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sun-aries · 11 months

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Hands (totk zelink)

OK i cracked. TOTK has me in my feels right now and I needed to write. It's been a couple months so I'm rusty, but If you like it, send some prompts and I'll whip up some one-shots!

Zelda couldn’t help but notice it. It’d started subtly enough, with his hand weaving into hers as they walked through the meadows of Hyrule Field. She’d heard the sigh as it left his lips, unbidden and trembling, but the wordless sound mirrored how she felt so precisely that she didn’t question it. It’d felt so right to touch his skin again – to be in her own skin again – that she met his gaze with a fluttering laugh and squeezed his fingers.

Yet as they got back into the rhythm of their lives, the scholar couldn’t help but notice that he’d made quite a habit of it. When they returned to Lookout Landing for the first time since her return and he’d taken her hand to climb the short flight of stairs, she’d passed it off as his typical chivalry and shook her head with mirth. “I’m fine,” she insisted, and he nodded, but didn’t reply and certainly didn’t let go.

Days had passed and it happened more and more often. Finally back in Hateno, he’d reached for her hand as she reached for a truffle, darting his eyes away when she’d looked at him curiously and yet leaving his hand on hers. Or as she lifted the woven basket into her hand, he’d covered it over the handle, avoiding her eyes as he did so.

It wasn’t as if they’d never held hands before, of course. In fact, it wasn’t the first time she’d felt his hands at all, calloused and rough against the smoothness of her skin, early in the morning or late in the nights. She couldn’t count the times on her fingers, in fact. But it’d been something different entirely - something raw - since she returned, and she could feel it in the trembles.

It was almost as if he’d been trying to make up for letting her slip through his fingers.

Zelda didn’t hold it against him - she couldn’t. She’d been there after all, felt the gravel shift beneath her feet and watched him dive after her without thought into the pitch-black chasm.

But she knew him and she knew it was eating at him – that it had been since they parted. Zelda had seen the desperation as the pads of their fingers just barely brushed one another, seen the fear in his eyes just before falling to the abyss and disappearing in a sphere of light. And now, it was as if he needed to feel the weight of her hand and the touch of her skin, to know that she was real and tangible before him.

Golden light awoke Zelda the next day in their little cottage, filtering though the windowpanes. She could hear the pan sizzle on the fire and the careful clatter of dishware and smiled to herself. After stretching out her muscles, more relaxed than she’d felt in ages, she placed her feet flat on the ground and went down to greet him.

Link’s back was turned to her, but he tensed for a moment when he heard the wood creak, as if suspended in disbelief. Then he’d resumed as quickly as he’d paused.

“Good morning.”

He turned his head to the side, a smile tightening his cheeks, and warmth bloomed through her. “Good morning.”

“That smells delicious,” the scholar commented, snaking her arms around his waist and pressing a kiss onto his shoulder as she sneaked a peek. “You’re making my favorite?”

He shrugged, but that smile was still ever present on his cheeks, and she swore it got bigger the closer she got. “You deserve it,” he simply said.

They’d plated the crepes at the table, steaming and fresh with fruits on the side, and she’d already started perusing through the papers, quickly noticing just how often her name popped up in her absence. She’d have to make quite a bit of stops at stables, it seemed.

She’d placed the paper down to take another bite when Link did it again, reaching across the table to curl his hand into hers, and she was surprised to find him studying her quite intensely. There was rosiness in his cheeks and at the tips of his ears, his blue eyes searching her, and suddenly she felt her own skin get warm under his undivided attention. “Link?”

His eyes darted down to their hands, his thumb brushing over her knuckles ever so gently. She could tell he had something to say, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue, but words never came easy to him and she was there to help now. “I’m right here,” she said finally, assertively. The noise that escaped him, a gruntled sob almost, shot through her chest like an arrow. “Look at me, Link.”

He shook his head. “I can’t-” he tried, his mouth dry, voice hoarse. He looked up and though his eyes were rimmed and red, he hadn’t yet shed a tear. But it was okay: she’d shed enough lately for the both of them. “I can’t let you go again.”

She had no words for that. It was unusual for her, especially since the Calamity’s defeat, to be at a loss of words, but she had no guarantees for him, no promises to make. It was clear then that life had a cruel way of tearing them apart.

But at the very least, they were good at finding each other again.

So then, she’d simply encompassed his hand with both of hers and raised it to her lips. “I will always come back to you,” she vowed. He took a moment just to treasure the feeling, the familiarity, and the weight of her hands.

“I won’t rest until you do.”

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bahbahhh · 10 months

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begin again

Chapters: [2 ] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7]

The Calamity is gone. The remaining leaders of Hyrule gather for a Summit to determine the future of the kingdom, starting with how to repurpose all the Sheikah Technology. Zelda is among them, and while everyone still calls her Princess, she’s not sure she wants to lay claim to an old throne. What she really wants is to move on. She wants to continue her research, to prove her worth beyond her bloodline, and to spend as much time with Link as she can…which sounds an awful lot like what she wanted a hundred years ago…

[ A story set between BotW and TotK, containing many spoilers for TotK as it was born from my need to explain many of the changes we see. A tremendous thank you to @zeldaelmo who volunteered to beta read this before she knew what she was getting herself into. I am immensely thankful for your eagle eye and your patience. ]

chapter 1

for the prompt “yearning”

Zelda doesn’t have a bed.

She thinks about this lying on the spare one in Purah’s study. She’s staying with Purah for the Hyrule Restoration Summit, which is what they are calling the first official gathering of Hyrule leaders since the fall of the Calamity, and the more she thinks about it, technically speaking, it's a cot.

It’s not unlike the one she uses when they are in Kakariko, albeit a few inches shorter, like everything else customized for a child in Purah’s lab. Zelda has to lay at an angle to fit and even so, her feet dangle over the edge when she straightens her legs. Symin offered her his bed, as Paya had in Kakariko, and like there, Zelda declined.

When she traveled a century ago, families were forced to give up their entire homes to host her. Royal quarters were permanently built in Kakariko, Rito Village, Gerudo Town, and Zora’s Domain. Due to the hostile environment surrounding Goron City, the Gorons agreed to travel to Akkala Citadel whenever there was official business with the Royal family which, in addition to a military fortress for the Hyrulian armed forces, acted as a second residence for her family. Another bed.

But that was all before. Akkala Citadel is in ruins, all the Royal quarters have since been repurposed by their respective domains, and Zelda will never ask anything more of the people of Hyrule so long as she draws breath.

Still, selfishly, and in the safety of her own thoughts, she yearns for the comfort of a real bed. Nothing extravagant, no need for anyone in Hyrule to forfeit their comforts on her behalf. Just somewhere she can readily count on for rest when sleep decides to visit.

That’s what Link says: a visit of sleep.

They are alike in this way. Their internal clocks recalibrated in the prolonged absence of waking, such that their bodies don’t readily cue the need for sleep. In the beginning, it took her weeks just to register the sensation of fatigue again. She stayed awake for two full days after the final confrontation on Hyrule Field before collapsing abruptly during the climb up to Kakariko’s western entrance. Link had to carry her the rest of the way. She slept for ninety-two hours straight.

When Zelda finally awoke, someone was smoothing her hair out of her face. Another sensory experience she needed to register again: touch. Not toxic oil on her skin, claws of shadow raking down her spine, or darkness pulling so tight it feels like it might become one with her. Actual human touch.

She hoped it might be Link in a delayed return of her affections for a heartbeat, but when she opened her eyes, it was an old Sheikah woman at her bedside. Zelda’s expression must have soured or pulled with confusion, because the woman began to laugh. Laughter. Warm and inviting and familiar. The sound vibrated inside Zelda like a bell. She gasped, set her hands on either side of the women’s face and felt a sudden and painful ache that has accompanied every subsequent realization of her losses.

She will never age like she was meant to. With the people of her time, with the people she loved.

And after a century in stasis, she is on the verge of being completely left behind.

“Now, it’s not that bad, is it?” Impa teased.

Zelda didn’t answer. She wept.

It has gotten a little better in the months since she returned to her physical form. She’s started to suspect Link is “visited’ by sleep out of preference more than necessity. But really, he slept for a hundred years, so she can’t blame him for rejecting a more traditional sleep cycle. She, on the other hand, was frozen. Not sleeping, not waking, just there—like gravity itself. Holding everything and everyone in place, unnoticeable until she wasn’t, when the Calamity would slip free of her grasp, swirl about the castle, and remind Hyrule of the horrors that awaited them if she failed again.

Zelda smudges a tear against the side of her face and turns onto her back. Regardless, she can’t help but feel like having a bed, a ceiling overhead she recognizes, and the freedom to get up and roam down to a kitchen for a slice of fruitcake when the night is still young, that she might be visited by rest more willingly when she wants it. Needs it.

Like tonight.

“So, what you're really talking about is wanting a home,” Zelda tells herself, a habit formed in the decades of solitude. Sometimes, in periods of dormancy or resignation, the Calamity would growl back at her in a tone that was almost human. But for the most part, she started talking to herself in and out of days and throughout the years until her sense of time too was a thing Hylia claimed in penance for her failures.

“That’s not accurate,” she chides herself and flips onto her stomach. Blaming the Goddess is a bad habit she is trying to change. When she finally unlocked her Powers, suspended in divinity, the closest to holy she’s ever been, the Goddess didn’t even answer her then. It was just the sound of her own voice, echoing back at her from inside the Calamity.

A bed. Something simple and fixed, like the one Link has in his house right on the outskirts of the village. Zelda’s caught glimpses of it when they’ve stopped there to replenish supplies; nestled against the wall on the second floor, beneath the only window so natural light kisses him awake when he finally decides to rest. He has a small dresser for linens and travel spoils, and a bedside table that is home to a painted vase from Rito Village he often fills with fresh flowers.

She wonders which flowers are watching over him right now. Has sleep visited him? Or is he rolling about his sheets, worrying about the Summit, trying to break old habits, or craving something warm from the cooking pot down the stairs?

If he is awake, it is likely the latter. He would be able to sleep on a night like this. The air is cool. Everyone at the Summit knows him personally; is indebted to him in some way, although he carries no ledger. He is known. Respected. Tomorrow is just another day. Sleep will visit.

Zelda’s role in all of this is yet to be defined. While news of Calamity Ganon’s defeat spread quickly, there was no whisper of the lost Princess’ return at first. Rumors focused on the disappearance of the shadow around Hyrule Castle and then later, turned into formal requests for Link’s presence in the aid of investigating the Divine Beasts sudden malfunctioning. No one asked about her.

And it was nice.

For a brief moment, she fantasized about cutting her hair, burning her dress, and letting Zelda disappear with the embers into history. Maybe she would accompany Link as a traveling scholar under another name? Or join the Sheikah and train with the weapons she was forbidden to touch a hundred years ago?

Impa, however, had other plans. She suggested Zelda travel with Link to investigate Vah Ruta so the Zora could verify her identity. They found her old travel clothes, Link presented her with a descendant of her horse, Storm, and the dreams of obscurity ceased. The Zora instantly recognized her, adding credibility to the announcement of her return and soon, her identity grew heavy with an unspoken claim to a throne that needed rebuilding.

No one has officially said anything, but there is a generous amount of speculation surrounding tomorrow and the opportunity to reestablish a centralized and unifying governing body. If they asked it of her, she would have no choice but to accept, right? It is the duty tied to this life. This title.

Maybe she could convince them of her usefulness as a scholar? She no longer has any restrictions on time spent researching. She could help the Sheikah redesign their technology. Perhaps to aid in the great restoration…if she could just get the Divine Beasts up and running again, they would prove so useful in the rebuilding!

This part of her, shunned by her family and now forgotten with them, could be the key to proving her worth beyond a head to carry the crown. She will show them. She has to. They don’t seem to know what else to do with her, otherwise. Rarely does anyone use her name, even after they realized who she is.

They all call her ‘Princess’.

Except for Link.

Zelda turns onto her side and inspects the empty sliver of cot beside her. She runs her hand across the weaving and thinks about how she used to be able to visit Link. When the Calamity was dormant and her Power was still new and untaxed, she would separate a part of herself from Hyrule Castle and ride the wind to the Great Plateau. She watched the seasons turn by Link’s side in the shrine until the Calamity would wake and pull her back into herself like a rubber band. This went on for decades.

When he finally woke up and the shrine’s toll for restoring his life was realized, Zelda felt her strength begin to waver. She is not aware of a word that accurately describes the feeling of being forgotten by the person you tethered your heart to; to have it remain connected to that person and witness it drift behind them, becoming more of a dark cloud than guiding light.

Her love for him burned for a hundred years. Somehow, in the depths of a living, breathing, rageful hell, it grew. It grounded her within the swirl of eternal darkness, the unyielding burn of malice, the mourning of time. As his memories of their kingdom, their comrades, and of her, returned to him, his reckoning of it all remained indistinguishable.

The last six months between them were uncomfortable. He never outwardly answered her question on the field. He extended his hand and led her away from the castle. He was gentle yet reserved, closer than the three paces he once stood as her appointed knight and still somehow further than when he sunk into the glowing waters of the shrine and she stepped into the center of the darkest night. Did his love die with him on the field that day? Was it left in the spot where he bled out, where flowers now grow? Has one unknowingly ever made it back to his bedside table? Could he recognize it now?

Did he want to?

She glances over her shoulder quickly, half expecting him to be there like he always was all those years ago, appearing out of thin air, as a part of her as her own shadow.

But there is no one else in the room. Her shadow is empty. Her window shut.

Zelda turns her attention back to the empty spot beside her and begins to imagine the weight of his arms around her. The sound of his sleep. His breath on her face. The cot is small, like his bed, but in the way she imagines they might fit together, it would be enough for sleep to find her. Even on a night like this.

But there is no one else in the room.

Just her and a bed, that's not even a bed, that doesn’t belong to her.

—

Sleep doesn’t visit her.

Zelda eventually gives up and pours her energy into drafting up a proposal on how to repurpose the Sheikah Technology. The Divine Beasts will be a tremendous asset. Vah Ruta can create new water reservoirs. Vah Medoh can mass transport supplies and people across Hyrule. Vah Rudania and Vah Naboris will be essential for maneuvering the harsher terrains of each region.

She is confident she and Robbie could reprogram the guardians and assign them different purposes. She will recommend they remove all of the mechanics for combat, save for a select few machines that will be assigned to aid in monster defense.

Their greatest challenge will be finding a new power source. When Zelda obliterated Calamity Ganon from the realm, her Light purified every non-living thing it held influence over; every pool of Malice evaporated instantly and every guardian -earthbound, skyward or decayed- from the North Akkala Beach to Daval’s Peak stopped working. Robbie has yet to find a working ancient core and hypothesizes Zelda “nuked the network”. Whatever that means.

The Sheikah Towers and shrines remain functional, so once they isolate the remaining source of power, she is confident Robbie and Purah will be able to design and power up new cores.

If only she had access to the old blueprints in her study…

On her way down to the main floor, she scribbles a note about returning to the castle upon acceptance of the proposal. She folds the pages carefully and tucks them into the small leather satchel Link gave her. Purah assumes ownership of the Sheikah Slate whenever they come to Hateno, so Link presented her with a satchel enchanted by the koroks so she can carry multiple items outside of the Slate on her at all times. Link has an identical one.

He jokingly calls it an ‘adventure pouch’.

Purah, Symin and a few others are already buzzing about the lab. Purah has the Sheikah Slate in the Guidance Stone, a tear drop of crystal blue bouncing between the stone and the Slate every few seconds. Zelda always thought it was interesting that information takes the shape of a teardrop. Was it intentional by the Sheikah who created the technology all those years ago? Or is it just the natural form of data? Of memory?

There is so much for them to learn.

“Good morning, Princess!” Purah says without looking up from her work. Zelda decided earlier this morning, just as the sun started peeking through her window, not to fight the title of Princess anymore. She would help them rebuild the kingdom, sit on a new throne if they asked it of her, but she would have a hand defining the responsibilities of the title.

“Good morning,” Zelda answers.

Purah rapidly flaps her hand in Zelda’s direction. Zelda moves into the spot beside Purah, who is balanced on her knees on a pillow in order to sit level with the table. There are sketches of the Sheikah Slate, looking very much like a six year old drew them, along with an unflattering portrait of Symin, and handwriting Zelda won’t even attempt to decipher.

“I think I can duplicate the Slate,” Purah says, snapping her fingers.

Zelda grins. She imagines each region having their own Slate. The possibilities for research, for communication. How quickly Hyrule could share information…the problems they could solve!

Link pushes open the door to the lab. Zelda imagines how his shoulders might relax the more Hyrule becomes connected. His burden would finally be eased...then maybe…

“Good morning!” She practically bursts.

Link waves and crosses the room to the cooking pot. Symin starts explaining what he is cooking and Link casually dumps the entire contents into the fire. Symin sighs in relief and pulls out a notebook. Link produces the ingredients one by one from his pouch, displaying each carefully so Symin can copy the recipe. A dozen eggs, Hylian tomatoes, assorted mushrooms, a handful of greens, and a tiny bottle of Goron spice. Zelda’s mouth waters before he even starts cooking.

She watches Link demonstrate how to slice the tomatoes before setting Symin to work, involving Symin in the salvaging of the meal and in doing so, lessening the blow of his failure. It is a change in Link’s behavior she has loved witnessing: he is eager to share his knowledge after awakening from the shrine; to spread it generously with everyone who asks for his help. In this way, he is teaching Hyrule how to need him less in the long run, a step forfeited a century ago by the pressure he felt and the structure of the role assigned to him.

Hero, knight, swordsman; whatever title he is to carry moving forward, she will protect his freedom to define it as well.

They eat quickly and head down the hill toward the village together. Hateno is the chosen location for the Summit because it has the largest settlement of Hylians, who, as a whole, have been without formal leadership for over a century. Central Hyrule was initially considered given the proximity for all participants, but the general consensus is six months of calm is not enough time for anyone to meet comfortably in the shadow of the castle.

“I heard this is the first time King Dorephan has left his domain in two hundred years,” Purah whispers to Zelda as they turn the corner down the split in the road to Hateno Pasture. A farmer named Dantz offered up his land, which borders Lake Sumac, to host. The water provides an added measure of comfort for the Zora. Zelda spots King Dorephan sitting close to the shore with several elder Zora and Prince Sidon.

There are a handful of Hylians mingling with leading members of the Sheikah, Rito, Gorons, and Gerudo.

Purah and Symin split off to join Impa, who is sitting in the shade of a nearby tree with Paya. Their movement pulls the attention of the crowd in Zelda’s direction. She watches recognition ripple across the group. The conversations soften and then die off completely at the mere sight of her. Just like old times.

Zelda flexes her fingers.

Suddenly, there is a hand in hers. She jumps, glancing to her side where only Link stands. He’s looking right at her, the same way everyone else is, but she doesn’t feel the weight of the crown on her shoulders in his gaze. He squeezes her hand and nods her forward.

“Right. Okay, then,” Zelda whispers.

Link leads her around the crowd so she can make introductions before the Summit starts. She is already known to the Sheikah, who are represented by Impa, Robbie, Purah, Symin, Paya, and Cado, and the Zora. Prince Sidon embraces her and compliments Link relentlessly.

It is Zelda’s first time meeting the Goron Boss, Bludo, who introduces Zelda to a young Goron named Yubono and emphasizes he is a descendant of Daruk, as well as the Rito Chief, Kaneli. He is joined by a Rito warrier named Teba, and his son, Tulin, who begs Link to go shooting with him later that day. Link offers the fledgling a thumbs up and then gestures like, you want to go now, quick?

Teba scolds them both.

Her favorite introduction is the last one. Chief Makeela Riju, who insists Zelda calls her Riju, informs Zelda the Gerudo sun has missed her and personally invites her to come meet her pet sand seal.

There certainly is a lot of personality, but Zelda feels certain the proposal will appease them all equally. The fact Link’s hand has remained in hers the entire time only boosts her confidence. Should she request the floor immediately or wait to see if there are region-specific needs she can weave into her proposal? She wants to emphasize the importance of each region’s involvement.

“I think it’s time,” Impa makes her way out of the shade with the other Sheikah and takes the spot closest to Zelda. “that we begin again, don’t you all agree?”

“Well said. The Zora recognize the start of the Hyrule Restoration Summit,” King Dorphean says.

“As do the Rito.”

“And the Gerudo.”

“The Shei-kah!” Robbie throws his hand in the air and postures.

“Gorons,” Bludo grunts.

“The Hylians have elected four representatives: I, Reede of Hateno Village, Elder Rozel of Lurelin Village, Hudson of Tarrey Town, and Traysi for the Stable Association. We recognize the start of the Hyrule Restoration Summit.”

“I officially call this meeting to order.” Impa claps her hands together and sits. She thanks everyone for traveling and for the village of Hateno for their hospitality. She summarizes the objective of the meeting as a gathering of the people of Hyrule in preliminary discussions about plans for a massive restoration following the purge of Calamity Ganon. She explains the forum will be open, but organized, in order for accurate minute keeping. Everyone motions in favor of detailed records. There are too many nameless ruins, too many stories and lessons lost to time scattered across Hyrule.

“Since there is no old business to attend to, I suppose it might be best to open the floor up to hear any initial recommendations for the restoration?”

Link raises his hand.

He so rarely speaks out loud that the anticipation of it commands the attention of the entire Summit immediately. It might be her imagination, but Zelda swears the wind stops, too.

“Let the record show the Hylian Champion and Hero of the Wild, Link, has the floor,” Impa dictates and gestures for Link to continue. Zelda fishes her proposal out from her adventure pouch and folds it in her lap. Whatever he says, she’s assuming he will have some brilliant suggestions on how the former trade routes can be optimized or offer insight into the state of Central Hyrule for an exhibition, it will provide the perfect opportunity for her to follow.

Link turns and smiles at her as he rises. It’s small. Relaxed. The kind of smile that’s only meant for the space between two people. Which means it is meant for her.

She smiles back.

With her plans for the Sheikah Technology, which will no doubt be strengthened by Link’s expertise, they can face this new Hyrule together. Self-chosen, this time, not forced by fate and the responsibilities of an old kingdom.

Her heart flutters so rapidly at the thought, it takes her brain a moment to register what he actually says:

“I propose the first step in the restoration of Hyrule should be the destruction of all Sheikah Technology.”

#totk spoilers #totk #totk fanfiction #totk fanfic #totk zelink #botw zelink #botw #breath of the wild #loz #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #loz totk #zelinkweek2023 #zelinkcommunity #bahbahhhart #bahbahhhwrites #begin again

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solarwreathe · 3 months

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searching for leviathan bones in the hebra tundra. from my oc zelda fic which you can find here

lore under the cut

the fur hood was made from a great-horned rhino. they resided in the highlands and hebra mountains until gleeoks and people hunting them (estan's silence on this topic is deafening) drove them to near extinction.

aubri and her yiga companion (his alias is twigs. i'm tired of calling him data expunged that bit has ran its course) encounter one of the last on their hebra trek, having barely escaped a gleeok, but slowly dying from its wounds. twigs wants to save it (misanthropic vegan that he is) but aubri elects the humane choice would be a mercy kill.

after which they clash again over their beliefs; aubri thinks every part of it should be made use of: cook its meat, sell its valuable tusks, make armour from its hide. because it's dead anyways who gaf. but twigs believes every part of its body needs a burial to pass on.

eventually she compromises to just shave its mane - it's not technically a fixed part of its body so it doesn't count.

burial is as important to the yiga as it is for the sheikah - fail to do so and they'll remain in this world as malevolent spirits. i think even if they killed link they'd give him that rite purely because they'd otherwise be haunted by his unfunny pranks for eternity.

it's also why they left dorian's wife in the underground well labyrinth - they knew she'd be a particularly determined vengeful spirit even when buried, so it keeps the spirit lost.

and if you got this far: bonus doodles!

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baings-nails · 2 days

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Some traditional art with Princess and an unseen dragon.

"Be no scared! Princess here!"

#lozbonds #fan comic #loz au #totk fanfic

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kenneduck · 10 months

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Page 10 of “Secret Confessions to a Sage”! 🌸 Goddess bless your sneeze, you gentle Hylian.

First Page | Previous Page | Next Page | All Pages Masterpost

Patreon | Twitter | Instagram | Ko-Fi

#sidlink #sidon #princess yona #prince sidon #king sidon #tearsofthekingdom #totk fanfic #totk comic #botw totk #botw #Secret Confessions to a Sage #tears of the kindom spoilers

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primalbeatsourhearts · 10 months

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The Call of the Moon

While I may not be posting any content on my version of Wild just yet, I figured you might like a small little snippet of a future oneshot! Just so u can get a little taste of what to expect!

It’ll be a while before this is fully published, since this will be happening later on in the overarching storyline! But it can give you some ideas for the plans and changes I have for Wild.

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR TOTK

Wild has gone through the entirity of botw and totk! Mostly follows canon lore, but there are a lot of changes as well to fit my story! But still, spoilers ahead. Read at your own risk!

This excerpt is based off of @kikker-oma ‘s newest comic linked here !! Plz go check it out, it’s amazing!!!

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Wild snarled at the imposters before him, kicking and thrashing as he desperately tried to launch himself out of their grip. Yet, Sky’s imposter held firm. This wasn’t them, of course it wasn’t them.

It never was. No. It was one of the Demon King’s many hallucinations that he loves to plague Wild with.

“Doesn’t it awaken memories? Memories of our time here?”

He could still feel that anger as he realized he was hunting for the wrong Zelda the entire time. That the real one sacrificed everything for him and he couldn’t even-

Wild tried kicking out, but still bound harshly by Sky’s legs. Barely able to move as the other desperately held on as though Wild was some wild horse. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold him ‘Rule, get that medicine down!”

“They aren’t your brothers, can’t you see it?”

Of course he could. He could see the way their hands clearly reached to grab him like the Gloom Hands. See the way his eyes glowed that eerie yellow. The flickers of red underneath their fake worried faces.

Why would they be worried for him, why are they still pretending? They have him, they have him and he’s not going to get out this time. He’s not going to be able to leave, the King won. He finally won, Wild was going to die but even worse, he was going to die alone.

Were they gone too? His past selves? Did they sacrifice themselves like Zelda did? Or were they ever actually real, and he was once again trapped. Deep within the depths where he and the Demon King are still fighting.

The Malice burned within him, his hands itching to tear something apart. It pulsated and stretched beneath his skin. The gloom felt like acid through his veins, it felt as though it was coming alive again, as though it died in the first place.

He wanted to go home. He wanted the wolves. He wanted Twilight, and the fairies and the wilds that he grew up in. He wanted Sidon’s comfort, and Yona’s sweet words.

He wanted Zelda.

Yet, as he stared up at the night sky, tears running down his face as the could feel the faint echoes of hands trying to maneuver him. He could see the gleam of the bright red blood moon.

#linked universe #wip exerpt #future chapter #lu wild #lu sky #totk fanfic

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nocturnalfandomartist · 3 months

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The Sealer of Calamity, the Ancient Princess Zelda

I don't know if anyone remembers my Zelink Week 2023 project, but I've finally fleshed it out! Zelda has a more finalized design taking inspiration from both her parents (Rauru and Sonia) and the Sage of Time (Zelda II). This design will be used in Origins of Calamity, a post-TotK fic I will be using to tie together the narratives of the Imprisoning War and the first Calamity (yes, I have constructed a long-winded timeline). I am so genuinely excited to share this story, and I'm hoping to do so soon (I want to have the first few chapters in their final draft stage before posting them). Enjoy this little bit of updated concept art in the meantime! :)

Origins Updated Concepts - Part 1

#origins of calamity

Time Elapsed: 5 hours, 33 minutes

Program Used: IbisPaint

Just a small note, but this will deviate decently from the story that will be presented in Call of the Forgotten. Unlike in the rewrite, this fic will lean heavily into the time travel aspect...

REBLOGGING IS ENCOURAGED, BUT DO NOT REPOST

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imaginethezeldaverse · 9 months

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The Desert's Moon (Ganondorf x Reader) (NSFW)

Welcome, welcome to the 100 follower fic I set all those polls for! You all chose and waited so patiently, so please allow me to give you the winner: a good fic with our big bad guy, Ganondorf (Tears of the Kingdom version). This will be nsfw, and just to be safe, be wary of any spoilers below the cut, okay? For this fic I'm running with an idea that was dropped in my inbox - initially I had planned to make it a simple headcanon post, but since he won, I'm writing it as a full blown fic instead. Thank you all for voting, it sincerely means a lot, I cannot believe even more of you have followed me since then. The comments and appreciation from you all truly makes my day. 🥹 As for the theme: you are inexperienced (we'll even say virginal) and Ganondorf here is going to be your first. Let's explore that together, shall we? Reader is gender neutral for all to enjoy. I sniped some fictional Gerudo language from here because I mean Ganondorf is a Gerudo man...he definitely should be able to speak the language.

Ganondorf is intimidating, this much is true. His demeanor exudes power in all things he does: fight, lead, and even fuck. He's had many a partner, his skills as a lover growing with each encounter of his past. He is not unfamiliar with experienced partners - and he will show you the patience and slowness you deserve.

The key is for you to be honest with him. Should you try to front as though you are experienced in sex, just know that he can see right through you. Ganondorf's read on body language is exceptional - so the slight shake in your body or the quiver in your voice is an immediate alert to him that you aren't what you're trying to portray yourself as. To your benefit however, he'll most likely find this cute. You attempting to be brave and take him head on is adorable, even though you have no idea what you'd be getting into (or really what would be getting into you). Being upfront however is not without its loss - you'd gain his respect and potentially a chance to call him an equal, he likes the idea of a long-term partner who can be honest with themselves as well as him.

For a man of his size and status, he's quite gentle. He offers to hold you first in your nudity, get you used to feeling his body against yours. Ganondorf will most likely seat you in his lap, with your legs splayed open over the length of his hips and thighs. Should you shy away or find yourself embarrassed by the less than polite way you're sat on him, he'll simply chuckle, reiterating that this is to acclimate you. His hands will find a place on your thighs, unmoving, but present. "Touch me anywhere you'd like," he offers, the rich amber of his eyes meeting your own. Setting the pace in your favor will help ease some of your apprehension. Your hands explore the planes of his body: his adept, powerful hands; the sizable, muscular curvatures of his forearms and biceps; over the thickened bands of his shoulders and down to the broad expanse of his chest. He's a mountainous man in size and that alone has you a tiny bit afraid, but you also can't deny that being able to trace your fingertips over the patterned tattoos that stretch across his muscles doesn't elate you.

When your hands finally cup the wide angles of his jaw, you find the pluck to once more lock eyes with the Gerudo chief. There's something unreadable swimming in them: whether it's tenderness or restraint you aren't wholly sure. His arm wraps around your lower back, bring you ever closer to him in a swift push. Your hands remain on his face, lips inching closer. Ganondorf doesn't kiss you. No, he wants you to be the one to take the honor of taking the first step. The world talks of his lust and greed for power, and make no mistake, the rumors are very much true. But this - intimacy with you - Ganondorf knows better than to rush. Taking you by force serves him little, and there is humanity in him still that bars him from wanting any harm to come to you. To feel your body yearn for him willingly only makes that much sweeter. Your breaths mingle momentarily, your heart pounding in your chest until you finally take the plunge and seal the gap. You're chaste in your kiss, timidity holding your tongue. No matter, the sensation of his thick digits roaming over the curve of your ass has you gasping enough against his mouth for him to coax you into a deeper kiss. Unbeknownst to you, your head tilts naturally, angling so that you can continue the kiss comfortably. You let go of his face, your fingers sliding into his long vermillion locks. There's a sound vibrating at the back of his throat that hits your ears so pleasantly - the simple soothing sensation of your hands in his hair delights him, so naturally he wants you to know it. The kiss builds heat, your body slowly beginning to want his hands to move beyond your backside. You lean into him, pressing your chest to his and linking your arms around his neck. The smile that curls his lips upward is something you can feel, and you almost smile back - but his hands that have now occupied a space on your hips are dragging your body over his lap. Ganondorf parts from your mouth, watching you bite your lip as he slowly grinds you over what you realize is his length beginning to grow rigid beneath you. Breaths slowly starting to come in shudders you snap your eyes shut, focusing on how his length slides teasingly over where you biologically know he's going to be soon enough.

"Do you feel me?" he purrs, dark tiger eyes trained on your flushed features, "Do you feel my want for you? My desire?" Your thighs are seeking one another to lock this feeling between them, but his hulking mass keeps them widely separated - your center at the mercy of his ministrations. Seeking purchase, your nails dig into his shoulders, earning a pleased rumble from the man. His lips find the hollow of your throat, easing pointed kisses and gentle bites to your sensitive flesh. Soft moans sound angelic to Ganondorf's ears; with ease he lifts you into his arms, your legs still very much wrapped as best as possible around his torso. Smooth, crimson silks caress your back as you're laid across the stretch of his bed. He doesn't stop kissing your body, only proceeds to move down it. Your collarbone, your nipples, the softness of your stomach: all places his lips tease and touch. He drinks your whines and whimpers in as though starving, an innate need to hear your voice call out to him ever growing. Still, he keeps slow. Rough finger pads glide down your body, stroking and fondling a pathway until he settles on his knees, with your legs splayed open by the sheer width of him. Those kisses that traveled now dot their way from your knee and inward. Your breath hitches, you know where he's going...you desperately want him there. As he reaches closer and closer, you shudder out, "P-Please...Gan..." Those initially amber slits, now ochre with hunger, slide up to see your face. Your cheeks are stained with reddish hues with your chest rising and falling faster than before.

"Is there something you need?" the timbre in his voice makes somewhere your stomach clench. How is it just his voice makes you feel this way? What kind of spell has he cast on you? Though your mind tries to wrack itself with answers, it always circles back to the lips that are nipping at your inner thighs. He places a kiss just close enough for you to feel his breath over your sex and you swallow thick with the gasp that tries to free itself.

"Your...mouth..." says you in a shaky whine, "Please..."

Like satin and fire, his chuckle is both suave but with the promise of something vile. A strong grip parts your legs further, holding you wide open. You try desperately not to look at how he drinks your nudeness in, fearing that you seeing the sheer lust flashing across his strong features will have you curl into yourself.

His mouth descends.

You gasp sharply.

Hot and wet is his tongue against your opening, circling your responsive flesh, his eyes never leaving your face. Ganondorf watches on as his silver tongue devours you, each lap and suck at you surging pleasure through your limbs. With one last scoop at your hole, he drew back. There was a question at your lips when you felt him retreat, but before you could even get a word out, you felt his finger carefully slide into you.

"A-Ah!" you mewled, then hissed. Given the size of him overall, even his fingers were substantial in filling you somewhat.

"Shhhhh," Ganondorf hushed your seizing frame. A hand came to your thigh, his thumb stroking in soothing circles the same time his opposite finger exited you, "Relax, my va'ina, you'll need to be much more open if you plan to take me." Your body shudders as you breathe, willing yourself to relax yourself in his ministrations. Having already gave you some slickness there, his finger meets less resistance than normal. His eyes roam your figure slowly, watching all of the small shivers and shakes that begin to build as his digit steadily works in and out of you. A spark of want pulses up your hips, with each coax of his finger you felt tiny rivulets of desire multiply inside you.

"Ganondorf..." came your gentle plea. This feeling was slowly starting to feel inadequate, your hips moving ever so slightly to try and chase the sensation of fullness. Chuckling at your urgency, the Gerudo chieftain withdraws his finger - adding another and sliding back into you. Eyelashes aflutter, you mewl at the sensation of being filled once more.

"There we are," he mused, smirking at the way you're snatching your bottom lip between your teeth. Gradually his fingers stretched you open, separating minutely as he fed your body each stroke. As soon as you had acclimated, you found yourself once again needing more. His hand, though making you feel good, was simply proving not to be enough. Ganondorf recognizes this as your features scrunch with some frustration. You need him, don't you? You need more than just two measly fingers to give you the passion that you seek.

"Your body seeks more than my current attentions I see," he says matter-of-factly, withdrawing his now very wet digits.

You turn your head away to blush, being read like an open book made your body burn with some embarrassment. Yet Ganondorf understood. He lifts your leg by your calf, pressing a kiss into the muscle there. "No worry, I'll give you everything you seek." He sits upright now, towering over your supine frame, a hand at each of your knees. You know what comes next, and though you tremble under him, there's a fire in those eyes of his that keeps you brave. Fingers descend upon his. He catches your gaze, doe-like and nervous, but no sign of withdrawal within them.

"You'll go slow, won't you?" you ask him, your heart mere seconds away from jumping out of your chest. There's an expectation for him to laugh at such an innocent, if not naïve question - but he surprises you when his hand takes your chin between two large fingers and keeps your eyes to his. Softness unlike you've ever seen in him stares back at you. "I wouldn't dream of bringing you harm, va'ina, you're safe with me." His words bring you comfort, allowing you shut your eyes in readied bliss. To reflect this, you spread your legs further apart, "Then I am yours, Ganondorf."

His lips find yours, hungry in its kiss. As his tongue melds against yours, he slips a hand down to grasp himself. You feel the slight shift of his body on yours, strong thighs flush to the backs of yours. He parts from the kiss, though his face remains close, "Ready?" Unable to trust your voice, you simply nod. His muscular frame surrounds your body, encasing you in his warmth. With your hands braced on his shoulders, you inhale sharply when he presses into you. Considerable length and girth stretch you far more than his fingers could even attempt. He's slow, methodical in his pace. So much so that he stops, just past the head of him, the second you tense in his arms.

"Breathe..." coaches Ganondorf, his voice showing the tiniest hint of strain. Though shaky, you try to follow his advice, and it calms your body enough for him to advance. Your mouth drops open from the pressure, hands gripping his shoulders for purchase as another inch fills you. The man above pecks loving kisses to your face as he sneaks a hand downward. He revels in the pleased gasp you let out when his fingers stroke your sex, "That's it...open up for me..." With him steadily plunging into your depths and the deliberate tease of his hand at your most sensitive area, you recognize that same spark from earlier.

Want. Need.

He slides in further still, about at halfway down the whole of him now. His hand doesn't relent on your flesh, easing over you with the intent to build the ecstasy he knows you're absentmindedly chasing. Ganondorf has every intention to bring you to rapture, but again - at your pace. There's a tremor in your thighs that shakes against his hips, he gives you more of him; but the noise you let out this time is a moan muffled only by the barrier of your bitten lip. He grins at this, supply your body with just a bit more. No reaction this time - you were getting used to him. His fingers stroke you for a few more counts, this being just enough for you to take him all the way to the hilt. You keen slightly, so impossibly full and almost dizzy from how overwhelmingly large he feels inside of you.

"Stay with me, love" he whispers, his opposite thumb stroking your cheek. The deep octave of his voice and the tender caress soothe you enough to lean into his touch. Ganondorf captures your lips once more, this kiss slower than the last. His hips remain still though his tongue ravages your mouth, and it pulls a licentious moan from you; the knowledge of him locked deep inside you as he kisses you so fervently has you yearning for what you know you want most. His mouth moves into your neck, and without hesitation your fingers bury into his fiery mane. There's a slight withdrawal of his hips, and you welcome the feeling now, the minor shift of friction feeding into a feeling at the most basic level of your instincts.

"More," your quivered voice speaks in his ear, "P-Please."

He's touched at your politeness, though it's unnecessary. You are a being to be worshipped in this regard, though you didn't realize it, you would never need to beg from him. Touching his forehead to your own, Ganondorf rumbles deep in his chest, pulling almost all of the way out of you before sliding all the way back in. "Nnngh, yes..." Ah, all he needed to hear. Adept hands place themselves at two points: a fist near your head for steadying, and a hand bracing underneath your back to keep you there. Leisurely, shallow thrusts easily evolved into deep, harder strokes. Your body would transform - blossom from tightly wound and tense to fully open and wanting.

The Gerudo male knows you're fully spellbound by your lovemaking when your nails begin to bite into the muscle of his shoulder blades - a most welcome pinch of pain. He's fully working you into you now, his hips immovable pistons to fuck you fully now. Your sweet and soft moans were climbing in crescendo, his name tumbling in slurred syllables off your honey covered tongue. Unable to stop himself now, Ganondorf growled into the junction of your neck and shoulder, pulling your body as flush to him as he could.

"Ah, ohh, mmf! Ahhhh G-Gan," you whined, clinging to him, "My body's on fire...I nghh I...!"

He feels you tightening around him, his pants are harsh as they dampen your skin, "Let it happen...let me have all of you." With only a few strokes of him you fall apart in a scream, your body winding up impossibly tight and then loosening entirely. The orgasmic pulse of your slickness around him milks him with an ungodly grip. He fucks you as fast as your body will allow, a few resounding claps against your flesh combining with the cries of your slight overstimulation that finally bring him to his own end. His strong fingers dig into you as he cums, hot and fast, in a wildly indecent roar. Your hands hold him in his place on your body, welcoming every drop of the licentious liquid that he spills inside of you. His hips begin to slow, still sliding in and out of your now sopping hole, and though you were already long finished, you moan at the sensation of his cock pulsing and feeding your body even now.

When he finally can take no more, he pulls from you entirely in a rough grunt. You feel the weeping of his seed from your entrance, but you are far too exhausted to care. Your body hums in pleasured bliss, but your limbs, so worn from a use you'd yet to experience until today, feel akin to lead. Never an issue, however, as Ganondorf carefully maneuvers you both so you can rest comfortably: with you at his side. His fingers traced the curves and lines of your body in silence, your hand and head rest at his chest.

"Gan...?" your voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes lazily move to you. Your heart flutters with candid bravery, "...I love you."

He smiles at this. Fitting words for a connection as deep as this. His hand covers your head, pressing you closer to his chest in a protective maneuver. Ganondorf is anything but vulnerable...but even a man as mighty as he isn't incapable of feeling.

"You have my heart, va'ina. You are mine as I am yours."

You hum contentedly, happy to fall asleep in the arms of the man who loved you.

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