hello!! i saw your requests are open and if it’s okay could I request Fox with a shy/slightly insecure reader? Headcanons or Drabble is perfectly fine- whichever you prefer!! thank you sm!! :D
Rerouted Patrols
Fox x gn shy/insecure!reader
description: Fox can tell you have a crush on him, but you can't seem to bring yourself to do anything about it and he's getting impatient.
warnings: none
notes: guys I like this one. I think I've converted myself into thinking that Fox with a shy partner is one of the best dynamics for him
You always felt like the corridors of the Senate building were too bright, but at least it gave you an excuse to keep your eyes down. Everything and everybody here felt…important. Senators swept past in flowing robes, aides hurried with datapads clutched to their chests, helmeted guards stood around nearly every corner. Everything was so fast and controlled, and you never quite felt like you belonged in it.
"Excuse me--sorry--"
You sidestepped a pair of arguing officials, hugging your stack of reports tighter against your chest as you slipped into a quieter side corridor. You leaned against the wall for a second, taking a brief breath and forcing your shoulders to relax, before continuing down the hall. But then you looked up, realizing someone else was at the end of the hall.
Oh.
Fox.
It was always hard to tell with the helmet, but you were pretty sure he was looking directly at you. It flustered you so much that your stomach flipped and you lowered your gaze so fast you risked almost walking into the wall. Kriff, pull yourself together.
You'd been crossing paths with Fox maybe every couple days somewhere in the Senate building. Every single time, you could feel his gaze locked on you. At first, you'd assumed it was for security reasons. He probably had every Senate employee's face memorized. That made sense. More sense than thinking there was something about you in particular that always caught his attention.
"Morning," he said as you passed by him. Force, his voice.
"O-oh. Morning, Commander."
He stared after you for a moment too long, almost like he'd hoped for something else. Conversation, maybe. But you never knew what to say to him, and so you kept walking.
______________________________
Fox was getting tired of this. Not of you, never of you, but every time he thought about trying to talk to you, you looked seconds away from fleeing Coruscant.
He'd spent months trying to make himself more approachable. The way he always straightened on instinct when he spotted you was a habit he'd been trying to abandon, he'd been working on trying to make his greetings a little less clipped and abrupt, and he'd been intentionally taking the Senate routes he knew you used most often. It had been months of watching your expression go soft with recognition whenever you saw him before uncertainty or even panic immediately swallowed it again.
You liked him. He was certain of it. The problem was that it seemed like you were convinced he couldn't possibly return that feeling…which was ridiculous.
Fox noticed everything about you. The way you thanked the guards at security checkpoints, the exhausted little smiles you'd give him during late-night shifts that somehow made twelve hour rotations bearable. But, kriff, he'd seen criminals more straightforward than this. And he was getting impatient.
______________________________
Later that day, you exited a meeting feeling thoroughly miserable. One of the senior aides had spent nearly half an hour criticizing your work in front of everyone else, and even though your supervisor assured you afterward that the complaints were minor, you still felt humiliated. You kept your head down lower than usual as you walked; which is why you startled violently when a familiar voice spoke beside you.
"Are you avoiding me?"
Your head snapped up so quickly you almost tripped. Fox was walking next to you, matching your pace.
"Am I--what?"
"You keep running away from me." His tone wasn't angry. If anything, it sounded exasperated. "Did I do something wrong?"
"No!" Your answer came out too fast, a little too loud. A couple people glanced your way and you shrank. "No, Commander, I just--"
Fox interrupted you with a low sound in the back of his throat, something rough with frustration. "You always do that."
"Do what?"
"Act like you're waiting for me to arrest you or something."
Your face flushed. "I don't--"
"You do."
He stopped walking, and it took you a second to register it. You paused, swallowing hard, and turned to face him. He was still staring directly at you through that unreadable visor, arms crossed over his chestplate. Way too intimidating.
You glanced down. "…Sorry, Commander."
Fox sighed sharply. "Kriffing hell."
Your eyes widened slightly.
"I have a name, you know."
You blinked at him. The irritation in his voice sounded closer to exhaustion, like he'd been trying to force something for too long and was finally losing patience with it. "I…" Your fingers tightened around your datapad. "I know."
"Then use it."
You stared at him helplessly, unsure what to say. The silence stretched long enough that he exhaled heavily.
"See? That's exactly what I mean." He stepped closer, not enough to crowd you but enough that your pulse quickened further. "Every time I talk to you, you panic."
"I don't panic."
"You jumped out of your skin when I said hello this morning."
"…Maybe a little," you admitted. "I was just surprised."
"Surprised," he repeated flatly. You could practically hear the eyeroll behind his helmet. Heat crept up your neck again, humiliation mixing unpleasantly with the miserable ache still sitting in your chest from your meeting earlier.
"Commander, I--I'm sorry if I--"
Fox groaned exasperately and abruptly reached out to catch your wrist. Not rough, but enough to stop you from trying to retreat again, and you fell immediately silent.
"I'm getting sick of chasing you around the Senate building," he said bluntly. Your breath caught, but he continued speaking before you could fully process the statement. "I reroute patrols to this sector to see you. And every time you pass me, you look at me like you want to say something, and then you bolt. I don't understand what you're so damn afraid of."
You let out a weak, nervous laugh before you could stop yourself. "Commander, you're terrifying."
Fox went silent for a moment. When he next spoke, he almost sounded offended. "I'm not supposed to be terrifying to you."
You blinked, shifting your weight a little from one foot to the other. "I--I'm sorry--"
He groaned again, heavily. "Stop kriffing apologizing."
For a second, you were both silent again. His grip on your wrist tightened minutely, and then he made another quiet, frustrated sound and shook his head. "Fine. Since subtlety apparently doesn't work on you--" He forced his grip on your wrist to loosen. "I like you."
Your heart stopped. Fox continued before you could recover.
"And I refuse to believe you haven't caught on by now. I wanna take you out."
You stared at him. He stared back. The corridor suddenly felt way too hot. "I…" Your voice failed.
Fox's posture shifted, impatient again. Nervous, maybe, though he'd never admit that. "Well?"
"You like me?" you managed faintly.
"Obviously."
Obviously. Stars.
Fox tilted his helmet towards you slightly. "I'm asking you to dinner."
You could barely think straight. "You are?"
"Yes."
There was a beat of silence before he prompted, "Say, 'yes, Fox. I'd love to, Fox'. Come on."
You couldn't help the way the corners of your mouth finally quirked up, and you finally focused your gaze on him. "Yes, Fox. I'd love to, Fox," you repeated quietly, blushing furiously.
He took a slow breath, the tension in his shoulders loosening. He finally released your wrist. "Good."
He stands like a fool in the palms of the Goddess Hylia, hesitating. The sun shines bright and happily in the clear sky above. Good and blue, as it should be. A gentle breeze breathes life through the woods, ruffling through the leaves in a familiar cocophony. It springs the tiny birds into action, who scatter about, singing their songs. The very same sun that lights up the sky warms the stone of the statue below him. It warms his own skin in kind.
The great statue of the Goddess has fallen, and along with it, a blanket of peace. The Triforce has been wished upon, and the Demon King is slain. All of his fighting is over, his journey finally coming to an end. Any minute now, Fi had told him, Zelda will awaken from her thousand year crystallized slumber.
He should feel relief.
“I’m still your Zelda.”
But all he can feel is dread.
The breeze touches his skin, playfully nudging him forward. It brushes through his hair and rustles the feathers at his back. It feels like an old friend and it feels like a slap to the face. He shifts his weight, moving closer to the edge of Hylia’s mighty hand. He remembers, not long ago, a laughing someone behind him, pushing, pushing, pushing.
He was not afraid to fall.
He has never been afraid to fall.
No, the stagger in his heart, the lead in his stomach- it is all to do with that very same someone, to whom he had made a promise. Before she had sealed herself away, she had made one request of him. Of her Link.
“I’m still your Zelda.”
After all that she had been through. After her perilous journey across this wide land called the Surface, after being captured and hunted by the greatest evil that he’s ever known, after bearing the weight of enlightenment on her shoulders, she had trusted him with this one thing: when this is all over… wake me up…
A request that sounded almost loving on her lips, spoken to a boy that no longer exists.
He wheezes, and the sound comes out like a tired Loftwing’s cry. The song of the forest fades away, the birds and the rustling leaves becoming lost to the sound of his own heart in his ears, racing, racing, racing. He falls to his knees, feeling his wings bend to accommodate the motion. Precious feathers snap as he goes down, and he only properly folds his wings after he’s already curled himself around his legs.
“I’m still your Zelda.”
But he is not her Link.
He- this imposter that stole away the boy she used to know- has come in his place. He has the same memories, albeit twisted and confused, but he can never be that person again. He never was that person at all. The moment that Link entered the Goddess’s final trail, he dug his own grave. And now, he- this jumbled up mess of a creature- is all that is left.
He reaches over his shoulder, feeling the smooth crimson feathers. They are as familiar to him as the hair on his head or the teeth behind his lips. And yet, they feel foreign. As foreign as the fingers on his hands or lashes over his eyes. He is entirely new, made up of so many pieces, and even he doesn’t know how to fit it all together.
The Goddess smiles down on him, her stone face betraying nothing but tranquility. Is this what she intended for him? To forge him into something greater, a spirit mighty enough to wield the strength of the Triforce. And then what?
Will Zelda even recognize him?
He takes a shaky breath, running his fingers over his wing, as if petting himself. It’s the same method that one might take to soothe a Loftwing in distress. And there he sits, staring at the ground below, his legs dangling off of Hylia’s hand. Some logical part of himself tells him that he must get up. He must be there when she emerges from her crystalline prison.
Summon a shred of courage, it says.
You’re going to be late, it says.
And he takes a deep breath, and he falls.
Leaning forward until his unbalanced top half topples right out from between Hylia’s fingers, he spins in the air as a familiar feeling takes hold of his entire body. All at once, the cacophony of Faron Woods comes back to him. The wind in the trees, the birds singing in their branches. The sunlight catches the brilliant reds of his feathers, air rushing past his face as he rights himself, spreading his mighty wings.
He catches that air at just the right angle, shifting his weight to pull him to the left and back up again. It takes no effort at all to flap his wings and circle the statue. It’s second nature. It’s… a part of him. The racing of blood in his veins, pumping with every mighty wingbeat. The rush of wind past him as he picks up speed and altitude. He can’t deny it: this is who he is.
It’s who he always has been.
“I’m still your Zelda.”
And he is not Link.
“I’m still your Zelda.”
And he has never been Link.
“I’m still your Zelda.”
And he weaves through the mist of the clouds in the sky, letting Hylia’s blessed rays of sun reach him. This is what she made him for- this is what she wanted him to be.
He shrieks a proud call into the sky, pushing himself ever higher. The Sealed Temple is small below him, and he can see where the earth is stained where a great evil had been destroyed, creating a perfect circle of darkness. It is over. It is done, and this is what the Goddess intended. This is what Zelda needed.
What now?
Now, he gets to live.
He may not be Zelda’s Link. But he can be even better.
I’m reblogging this 7-year-old comic of mine because, not only is it somehow still circulating, it just passed 400,000 notes??? Thank you, several hundred thousand internet strangers, for keepin’ this ol’ goat girl goin’ so long
(Also hi, I’m still making fairy-tale-flavored lesbian romance comics and have a new one coming out very soon…)
I finally finished this selfship. I think I know how to work with watercolors well enough now to open watercolor commissions....My OC as a Fire Fairy ... Next time I'll draw a kiss xp...
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Original
it's actually an experiment that I was forced into because I had to spend a day on my second OS, got bored, installed krita on there, didn't have my regular brushes but wanted to paint SO BAD. and here we are (Twilight was also part of the experiment but I don't really like how he turned out so shhhhh)
gonna drop this too, those are exploration sketches originally, but I kinda liked my first attempt so it's more of a ref sheet now.. and now I think that I should make ref sheets for the rest of them cause why does Time always look different, is it just me
idk. The first animal Time found and brought home was a dog they named Captain after they got back from the war. He has a blue bandana, Mask still wasn't really talking to anyone but leaf did cuddle with the dog like he was a stuffed animal, and still does, whenever Malon isn't looking Captain The Dog gets on the bed time. Idk. I drew this.
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