#hyliacursed

[bogenheld]

@hyliacursed asked:

META + food :0 ? additionally, does the cultural context of gerudo!link affect the whole foodie thing ehe (i ask this as a poc who has a deep connection to food i think lasoalu is so personal)

if anything, there's something about food that he rediscovers himself more and more through - learning some more recipes in gerudo town once they make it there to mama's hometown - it helps him remember her, remember her kindness and love, and how she taught her children love, and very much the you-feel-the-amounts-with-your-heart method of cooking.

he still can't quite remember her face, or her name, or his sibling's name, but over time he remembers things about her, and it leads him to chasing down parts of his lost past, the parts that are washed out by the fact people only see him as link, but food is something he reconciles with over time, and he does eventually regain parts of his memory.

he makes motions while cooking that something deep within themselves is something she did, all those years ago. his heart aches, and he wishes to recount it, but finding records from the before-times can be difficult.

he does experiment with a lot of herbs and spices, as well as watching for what core ingredients other gerudo women use in their recipes when he visits. though, when recounting elixir concoctions, it has resulted in some - uh - odd looks.

[petervel]

❛ narnia,   narnia . . .   ah.   king edmund the just ? ❜   well,   peter  did  know this would happen,   at least   —   still,   he’s almost a little guilty as he peers down at the list in the guard’s hands ;   though no more than edmund himself,   who’d argued with peter for over forty minutes in his bid to prove himself capable of being the  first pevensie  to visit hyrule   ( stubbornly blind all the while,   of course,   to the fact that the entirety of their exchange had taken place while edmund sat in bed,   his face even paler than usual )  .

❛ er   —   no,   sorry, ❜   he starts ;   though in some ways,   he isn’t sorry at all.   hyrule   —   like narnia   —   is a  far cry  from london,   and he cannot help but feel as if he’s tumbled through the doors of yet another wardrobe to engage in this visit :   every breath,   it seems,   is pure magic.   it’s certain,   then.   ed’s going to be absolutely  furious  about having missed this.   ❛ peter of narnia.   edmund is unwell ;   i’m attending in his stead. ❜

❛ peter of . . . ❜   at last,   the guard’s eyes widen in recognition,   and peter smiles graciously   ( if not a little self - consciously )  .   ❛ welcome to hyrule,   high king peter.   right this way,   if you please. ❜   peter is ushered into the castle as he conveys his thanks,   and in the moments before he passes out of earshot,   the guard speaks once more   —   but not to him.   ❛ narnia sure is trying to  impress  the princess. ❜   though he raises a brow rather surreptitiously,   he knows better than to comment.

in any case,   distraction comes rather easily once he walks into the ballroom and immediately comes face to face with said princess.   ❛ your highness, ❜   peter begins,   dipping into a polite bow at the waist.   ❛ happy birthday.   i have something for you   —   i’ve heard you enjoy reading. ❜   he lifts the package in his hands,   wrapped in brown paper and  intricately braided  threads of twine that at this point look more like a work of art than mere fetters ;   he can’t exactly take full responsibility for the idea,   but he knows that no library is complete without a compendium of narnian fairy tales   ( leather - bound and dusted with gold foil,   naturally )  .   even if zelda is too old for such stories,   he thinks,   one day they will be old enough to enjoy them again.

                                     plotted  starter  for  @hyliacursed​ .

[iresedge-arch]

we both draw our own icons so im yeeting you a starter hi how you doin ?   /   @hyliacursed​

even with the calamity ended , the demon found monsters to slay for his amusement ( although they were lowing in numbers each day he drew his blade ) . it was one of the few things that brought him joy, sans the horrid pain that burned on his right side . yet - he had to get closer  &  closer to hyrule castle to find these beasts , ones that were trying to claw up the remains of their demonic monster . to what ends ? the leviathan was dead . to return a few hundred years later when those who were around to see the god , understand what his return means , were long gone . where the pieces in this divine chess board would reset once again , but the audience had changed , not knowing the outcome . 

but he did . 

so he tossed his blade to the side , covered in moblin guts that stained the vibrate green lands of this kingdom . goddesses above --- he was tired. war hardened hands rubbed the sluggishness from his eyes . maybe returning back to dawn for dinner   &  good glass of whiskey would do well right about now . . .  

he turned , ready to head back to camp but . . . a person stood , only a few feet away. a civilian ? this close to the castle ? sure , ganon was dead but the threat of monsters were still very real . yes - he could leave them to fend for themselves but . . . tsk . fine . the demon walked towards the blonde , calling out -- but when they turned ? when he could see those blonde locks that framed a royals face so perfect ? those cheeks , full of life ? those eyes - those fucking green eyes ?!

even before had he felt such heat . 

“ you . . . . you should be DEAD ! ” 

[revaeli]

❝ this is war — not a test. ❞ ( feel free to choose & delete any of them btw i will just send multiple hehe )

ghost of tsushima starters

“did i ever say it was a test?”  the rito champion snapped back.  did he ever say it wasn’t a war?  did he ever say he didn’t understand the stakes,  as though it were a game?  as though he didn’t care?

    (as though there weren’t those he cared for at the end of the growing calamity?  as though he didn’t worry himself into a frenzy of their survival?)

if only to make himself taller,  revali launched himself upwards with a swift beat of wings and landed upon a sturdy tree’s branch.  his bright emerald eyes were narrowed as though with fury.

he snapped,  “i’ve known the grip of a bow since i was a child.  i’ve known war since i was a child,    moblins devouring my peoples’ bones.”  with an agonizing vividness he recalled a memory,  a memory of the realization that a father he barely knew could not be offered even a burial.  the rito champion offered only a cold little smile,  doing what he could to repress any show of the shuddering beats of his heart which his body longed.  the battlefield he was used to;  this was another.  

“you accuse me of treating this as a test,  while you flutter about with your worthless machines?”

[scarfbond]

@hyliacursed​   ❝ i can handle this. i’m tough. i grew up with nuns. ❞

          HE REGARDS THEM  with little more than a glance, eyes as blue as the sky on a sunny day filled with a strange ice to them, a cold gaze far different from respite from a warm day ; a biting, freezing cold.  how his eyes hold such light in their color ; how his eyes can be so bright  &  mistakenly lively at first glance, yet somehow resemble that of the undead  &   forsaken souls that wander about just outside the decrepit cabin.

          HIS INTEREST  in them is quickly lost, gaze averting to the knife he cleans grime away with a rag. it’s a well used hunting knife that he’s held onto for longer than he expected, though one that’s gotten him  ( & their majesty )  out of many predicaments in the past,  &  in the future. the knight, now, has little need for it -- with his own arsenal of weaponry ranging from the SWORD he was strangely captivated by, to his collection of firearms,  &  a much sharper, newer,  &  really . . . . more useful knife.  (  one that, admittedly, he could give to them . . but he wants it. so it’s his. )

          LINK ISN’T ONE TO WASTE,  however,  &   so he’s returning the blade to its leather holster, clipping it in  &   tossing it to zelda silently, without warning. their bat has . . . seen better days, let’s leave it at that, a back - up would do them good. god forbid the splintering, barely-more-than-kindling-at-this-point, bat BREAK during a fight  &  render them without anything besides the pistol.  he’s always preferred blades, now that he thinks about it. 

[   I told you I wasn’t going to toss it.    ]

          HE BARELY SUPPRESSES  a roll of his eyes, recalling a small argument had earlier over finding the new, sparkly knife --  &  link wanting it.  ‘ you already have one! ‘  well, he wants this one. 

[bransles]

@hyliacursed​    //    sc.

if only what these two were up to did not have to be kept secret from everyone lest they both get in trouble  ( though,  honestly,  zelda would likely only get a slap on the wrist while octavo would be the one to lose his livelihood ),  or else he would have demanded that this be considered charity work.  poor,  lonely prince who seldom ever got to leave the castle,  sneaking out with the court musician,  to a bar,  no less  —  definitely a scandal somewhere in there! 

he tells them to stay close behind him,  try not to be separated in castle town’s nightly bustle,  brick grounds packing full of people either returning to their home while they ask for their sorrows of the day to turn to rain in the gray clouds overhead,  or people continuing their day long into the night with merriment.  the milk bar only gathered crowds on certain days  —  which was nice either way.  it is home to a stage where local musicians often perform for the patrons  —  where octavo had his humble start before clawing his way into the walls of the castle to sit among true - blood nobles he swore were deaf.  how nostalgic.

“ here we are, ”    he motions to the bar once the two step through the doors,  almost like walking through a threshold with the way the atmosphere suddenly changes.

“ enjoy yourself,  of course  —  but do remember to at least . . . moderately behave yourself,  as well. ”

as in,  it would be awful for the both of them if the young highness were to draw too much attention to themselves.

“ now  —  i will allow the honors of your first drink being on me,  hm? ”

[ajstking]

𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 was what Edmund excelled at, but there was something far more personal about this attack. It was in his own WESTERN MARCH they were attacking.  He hurried into the room with much haste. Still enough time for a bow (for he was the only asking for help).  The people of Narnia and more specifically the Western March were in danger.  The worry would not move off the young king’s face until the threat were gone. ❛ Your Highness, thank you for seeing me. I wish I was here for our usual bickering. Narnia is in trouble once more with the Giants attacking the West.  Our armies are struggling with holding them off.  Is there any chance you may help? ❜

                   𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋                    :             @hyliacursed​

[lightumbra]

@hyliacursed​

it was an ache in her heart that woke her. a sorrow that penetrated even the still of death and facilitated her return in ghostly form.

she knew not, at first, what it was that caused such sadness within her -- what turmoil called her forth -- and so she wandered the castle aimlessly. it had changed quite a bit since her passing, a fact that came as no surprise, but some things remained the same. most notably, the wagging tongues of the castle staff and the quickness with which rumors spread in the stone halls.

it was from the servants that she learned of an impending terror, of champions intended to defend the land, of a princess and her personal knight. and the more she heard of the princess, the more she understood her own return, the anguish that called to her from beyond the grave. 

it was night when she approached -- it was when she felt most comfortable, more real and less a specter of a distant era. twili markings glowed faintly through her gloves, and she could not help but wonder if her newly acquired affinity for the twilight had anything to do with midna.

a pause outside of the princess’s study -- what would she say? should she introduce herself? rumors were already spreading of a strange woman wandering the corridors. oh, how she hoped she would not scare them.

a breath (she did not need to breathe. her chest moved all the same) before she passed through the door -- a feeling that became no less strange, regardless of how often it happened. a long moment passed before she spoke.

“they put far too much pressure on you, don’t they?” perhaps an introduction would have been better, but these words were the first she could find. “the burden of saving an entire kingdom...should not have to rest with just one person.”