Zelda Daily 2 Electric Boogaloo

Daily Legend of Zelda Drabbles Status: paused

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Hi hi hi hi hi Welcome!

Here you will find drabbles (100 word fics) about the Legend of Zelda posted every day. AUs will be included sometimes and tagged accordingly.

Day 14 update: they’re sometimes drabbles. It’s like… 70% drabbles. I’m in charge and I can write more if I want 🤗😂👍

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[Profile pic art by @zelda-daily. Profile picture ID: A digital drawing of Groose from Skyward Sword. He is sat in a relaxed recline, leaning back on one arm as the other is draped across his loosely bent legs. He closes his eyes with a tense sigh. End ID.]

[Header ID: Screenshot from the LOZ Oracle of Ages game. It is pixelated art of a simple sailboat on the ocean. The clouds are fluffy in the sky and there are nine birds flying near the ship. In the bottom right corner, the words "The End" are written in large orange font. End ID.]

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 29: Last One Standing

His sword was sheathed. The field was empty, save for the corpses leaking blood into the dirt.

The battle was over.

Link staggered forward, pushing himself upright with the tip of his sword buried in the dirt. The metal barely shined through the coating of blood—from monsters, enemies, allies, he didn't know. It might've been all of them.

His scarf flapped in the wind. It was the only sound across the sullen landscapape that broke through the ringing in his ears. He pulled it up to cover this nose against the pervasive smell of death.

Link stood alone.

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 28: Backstabbing

(<-Part 1. Continued from Day 15: Failed rescue attempt)

Link shot up, screaming and sobbing and gasping for breath. He frantically whipped around and found himself in his bed, in the house on the Surface he shared with Zelda and Groose. They were both sitting up, blinking sleep away from their eyes, as they stared in concern.

"Link?" Zelda asked, reaching out a hand. "Are you alright?"

"Nightmare," Link muttered through his sobs. "Crimson—”

"He's fine. You're both safe," Zelda soothed.

Link shook his head and curled his knees up to his chest. He shoved his face onto his knees and desperately tried to calm his racing heart. It would be hours before the sun rose and the Loftwings. would be able to venture to the Surface, but Link knew he wouldn't be able to rest until he saw Crimson with his own eyes.

“Link—” Groose laid a gentle hand on his back. Link flinched and smacked Groose's hand away. Zelda gasped, and Groose moved back more quickly than if he had been burned.

Groose's eyes were wide as he gaped at Link. "Link, what..."

Link threw himself off the bed and stormed out of the house. Groose may be a changed man—Link knew this, and he loved him for it—but he was still the one who had kidnapped Crimson all those years ago.

It was the one thing Link could never bring himself to forgive.

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 27: Bedside Vigil

(CW: discussion of self harm and mental health issues, negative self talk by POV character)

(←Previous)

Link hadn’t left his side since yesterday. They were curled up on the couch, where they’d been most of the day. Groose had a book in one hand that he was pretending to read, and his other arm was trapped in a hug. Link was sniffling on and off as he fiddled with the corners of Groose’s bandages. Every little sound he made sent a knife into Groose’s heart.

He was the one to make Link this upset. It was his fault. Groose grit his teeth together. Why did he have to ruin everything he touched?

Zelda set a tray on the table with three steaming mugs of tea. Groose glanced up at her and met her smile with one of his own. It wasn’t forced; it never was, with her.

“Thanks,” Groose mumbled as he took the mug she offered him.

Link made a grabbing motion with one hand; it was barely visible from where it was curled under Groose’s arm. Zelda rolled her eyes. “Sweetheart, you need to untangle yourself first.”

Groose couldn’t see Link’s face beneath his mop of hair, but he heard his frustrated huff. Link pushed himself further into Groose’s space, somehow, and wrapped his hands around Groose’s arm. Groose and Zelda shared an exasperated glance. Zelda picked up her own mug and pushed the tray in front on Link in case he decided to move.

Zelda settled cross-legged on the couch facing Groose. “I figured it was time to talk, since you haven’t turned a page in the last twenty minutes.

Groose’s cheeks burned with embarassment and his ears twitched backwards to lie against his head. He marked his page and set the book on the table. He swallowed, chewed on his lip, and reluctantly nodded. Link’s hand slid into his. Groose wrapped their fingers together and squeezed.

Zelda cleared her throat. “I…I don’t know what the right thing to say here is, so I’m not going to try. I’m going to say what I want to say.”

Groose wouldn’t expect anything different. “Okay.”

“I love you. Link loves you. I love our life together, and I don’t want anything to change. Are we clear on that?”

Groose smiled past the sour taste in his mouth. He didn’t deserve them.

“Love, this can’t happen again.”

Groose’s stomach plummeted.

Zelda reached forward and put a hand on his thigh. “You can’t do this to yourself every time we have an argument. We have a lot of personality between us, there’s bound to be more. I can’t watch you hurt yourself. Neither can Link.”

Link sniffed. Groose pressed a kiss to his head and rested his other hand on Zelda’s. She flipped hers up to hold him, and scooted closer until their legs touched.

“So, we come up with a plan. The first step in the plan, in any plan we discuss—talk to us. If you’re feeling like you want to hurt yourself, or like you don’t…don’t want to be alive, or even if you’re just a little sad! You have to talk to us.”

Tears pressed against Groose’s eyes as shame burned in his core. He nodded. “I can try.”

Zelda’s smile was as bright as the sun.

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 26: Relapse

(CW: self harm)

It was a stupid fight at the end of a long week. Link couldn’t even remember what started it. Zelda was strung out, trying to solve everyone’s problems herself as Skyloft moved to the Surface. Link was struggling physically, and endlessly frustrated that he couldn’t do more to help. Groose had been lashing out, soaking up all of their stress like a towel, and he couldn’t keep it from dripping.

Link couldn’t remember what started it, but he knew he was tired of the tense atmosphere. This was their home; they were all meant to feel safe here. With a grumble, Link pushed himself to his feet and shuffled around the house until he found Zelda. They both apologized, Link cried, they hugged; business as usual. Together, they went searching for Groose.

There was no sign of him in the house, escept for the locked bathroom door. That in itself was not unusual. Despite their level intimacy in their daily life, Groose often wanted time to himself with guaranteed privacy. Link normally thought nothing of it. Tonight, however, cold dread pooled in his stomach.

Zelda glanced at Link with concern before she cleared her throat and leaned against the doorframe. “Groose?”

A distinct crash, a mumbled curse, something metallic hitting the tile floor. Link’s heart skipped a beat. Zelda’s eyebrows furrowed and she leaned closer to the door.

“Groose, love, can you open the door? We need to apologize.”

Silence. Link’s heart threatened to beat out of his chest. He wasn’t sure why, but his entire body felt tense.

“Um, just—just a second!” Groose’s voice was shaky, as if he had been crying. Link couldn’t hold back the concerned noise that bubbled out of his throat. Zelda put a hand on his shoulder. Link grasped her hand and squeezed.

“Are you okay?” Zelda asked.

“I’m fine.”

Immediately, alarm bells went off in Link’s head. It was that tone of voice—the one Link associated with the scars on Groose’s wrists and the mournful look he held on sleepless nights.

Zelda tried the doorknob. It didn’t budge. “Groose, open the door.” The softness in her voice was gone, replaced by an urgent anxiety. The same urgency knocked Link’s voice loose from where it was trapped in the back of his throat. This was Groose. Groose needed his voice.

“Groose,” Link whispered. “Please open the door.”

Silence.

“Hey, look. Whatever we’re feeling, we can all work through it, okay?” Zelda rested her forehead on the door, as if Groose could feel her love permeate through the wood. “We have each other now. We work things out together.”

Link counted 43 rapid beats of his heart before the lock clicked. Zelda burst through the door, Link right behind her.

Groose was sitting on the floor, slouched against the wall, with his bloody wrist cradled in his lap. Tears trailed down his face, sliding over his clenched jaw. He didn’t meet their eyes.

“Oh, love…”

A million thoughts warred in Link’s mind, screaming all at once: why? I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you ask for help? How can we fix this? How could you hurt yourself in our home. I’m so sorry. Instead of saying any of them, he knelt by Groose’s side, kissed his cheek, and wrapped him in the biggest hug he could.

(Continued tomorrow ->)

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 25: Lost Faith

How long is time, when they need time to adjust? How much grace is there to offer? How much am I willing to offer?

“It slipped my mind.”

“I was talking too fast to think about it.”

“I knew you as — your whole life.”

It seems time is never long enough. There’s always someone who slips up. Always someone who forgets, someone who makes a mistake. Sometimes they correct themselves, sometimes they don’t. Even if I wear a pin, or have my pronouns written in bold on every page.

It never makes a difference. Every mistake chips away at my heart until there isn’t any hope left. I know, now. No matter how many friends I make, how much support I find, how many good intentions, how much transness I surround myself with,

the world will never see me.

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 22: Self-sacrifice

Warriors rubbed his forehead in frustration as a headache pounded behind his eyes. They’d been at this for hours without getting any closer to a solution.

There was riddle inscribed on the stone wall, just above a small hole. The only explanation they could come to was that the dungeon wanted someone to put a the hole, and, Warriors feared, lose their hand.

Penance for the blood on your hands.

Four was curled up against a wall, eyes flashing a multitude of colors as he tried to figure a way out of the room. Wind was circling the room, looking for any clues or cracks in the walls they hadn’t found. Time had gotten overstimulated and overwhelmed very early on. He retreated to a far corner of the room with his knees tucked to his chest, head down, and hands over his ears. Wild and Hyrule were together, ordered to keep the other from doing anything self-sacrificial.

Twilight, Legend, and himself were arguing, nearly to the point of a screaming match. Tensions were high; they were out of healing magic, low on food and water, and even lower on patience.

“There has to be another way out of the room,” Twilight said, for what Warriors thought might be the seventy-fourth time.

“There’s not a fucking—We have to complete the riddle to leave the room. What about that don’t you understand?” Legend’s tone was tense. Warriors knew he was close to snapping.”

Warriors shook his head. “No one is losing a hand on my watch.”

Legend whirled on him. “What the fuck do you take me for? Of course I’m not suggesting that. There has to be another interpretation—”

Warriors’ blood boiled. “We can’t stay here. We’re out of water, Time and Four are hurt, there’s no other way out.”

Twilight made a noise so close to a growl that, in any other circumstances, Warriors would’ve loved to tease him for. “We’re talking in circles. What if we—”

A blood-curdling scream ripped through the room. To Warriors utter horror, Sky was collapsed against the wall with the hole, his arm clutched to his chest and drenched in blood.

Nobody was watching Sky.

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 21: Kneeling

(CW: emetophobia, illness)

Link wakes to a sharp, coiled cramping in his stomach. He shoves the blankeys away and tries to throw himself towards the basin. His legs shake violently, stiff and throbbing with pain. He only makes it halfway before his vision starts to darken, pulse pounding through his head, and he falls to his knees.

His stomach clenches. Bile burns as it claws its way up his throat. His arms shake as he tries to hold himself up—he can’t do it. He collapses. His elbows land in the puddle of vomit and he’s so disgusted that it starts all over again.

Pain like stakes drive into his head, as sharp as if he were hammerig them in himself. His vision swims. He floats, tethered to the ground by the raging discomfort.

He doesn’t notice Zelda until he is cradled against her side, head pillowed on her chest. She bolds him up with one hand while the other pets his sweaty hair. It’s disgusting by now, surely. She really shouldn’t be touching it.

“Shh,” Zelda soothes. “Don’t worry about that.”

Had he said that out loud? Was she reading his mind now?

“Do you think you can manage some water?” Zelda asks.

Link’s stomach roils. He shakes his head, then deeply regrets it as the world spins and pain spikes between his eyes and at the base of his neck. His hips throb where they’re supporting his weight. The stitches on his side scream, agonizing waves of pain shooting through his body. It wasn’t infected, though. Zelda’s been checking it daily.

Link’s stomach cramps again and he leans forward to heave, but nothing comes up. He collapses against Zelda and doesn’t have the willpower to stop the tears leaking from his eyes.

“Why is this happening?” He whispers. His voice is so small and weak that he would be embarassed, if it wasn’t Zelda, and if she hadn’t already found him the way she did.

Zelda sighs deeply. He feels it in her chest.

“It’s natural for the body to succumb to illess after a period of prolonged stress and exertion,” she says.

Link doesn’t have any idea what those words mean.

“You pushed yourself too hard,” Zelda explains.

As pain pulses through his body, as he kneels on the floor in his own vomit, Link can recognize the truth in her words. But she is the important one, not him. What else could he have done?

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 20: Fancy Event, Resignation

Warriors affixed the last button on his collar and flashed his prized smile at the mirror. He didn’t see what everyone else seemed to—handsome, elegant, charismatic, the spitting image of a perfect hero.

He saw two eyelashes stuck together by a clump of mascara, a red spot on his chin shining through his foundation, the bags under his eyes that concealer could never quite manage to cover up. He saw the scar on his neck from another traitor he failed to protect.

He saw the damaged figure underneath layers of niceties.

Warriors let the smile drop and picked up his makeup brush. Imperfections in his Hero persona—in his mask—would not be tolerated.

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 19: Living Weapon

For the second time in as many days, the sword is knocked from Sky’s hand. He barely feels the crunch of his bones as the club hits his hand. it’s far overshadowed by the ripping of his soul as Ghirahim screams. Sky doesn't think—can't think—as he sees the sword fly though the air. He dives, reaching for it with his left hand, and barely manages to grasp the hilt before he hits the ground.

Immediately, there is a hurricane in his mind.

"How dare you? Are you trying to be rid of me! Or are you just that incompetent! A failure of a swordsman, failure of a hero! Failure! You’re nothing without me! You will never be free of me!"

Sky chokes, barely resisting the urge to curl into himself. Although his vision is wavering, black and red and throbbing as Ghirahim screams, the monsters are still within his view. A bloodied club thrashes closer to him and Sky rolls. He uses the momentum to land on his feet and swings right into a spin attack. Blood spews as the sword rips through the monster’s flesh.

Ghirahim’s screams are incomprehensible. Sky’s vision shakes; he can barely make out blurry shapes approaching. Light glints off the blade of a sword. Sky’s heartrate spikes and he slashes diagonally. His opponent blocks and pushes, sending Sky careening backward into the ground. His head bounces off the forest floor and, somehow, he steals a moment of clarity.

“Sky! Can you hear me?”

Sky blinks and rubs his arm over his eyes. As soon as his hand touches his face, he gasps in pain and flinches away.

“Hey, you with me?” Twilight asks. He kneels in front of Sky, sword pointed away but still gripped tightly in his hand.

Sky blinks, swallows, and nods. His brow furrows. There were no other monsters around. Had he—Sky’s stomach sinks. He’s overcome with nausea, and barely swallows back the bile in time.

“Did I hurt you?” Sky asks, voice barely above a whisper.

Twilight shakes his head and sheaths his sword. “No, I’m good. Are you okay? You didn’t recognize me.”

"Traitor! Fool! Worthless burden."

Sky gasps and clenches his jaw. He needs to apologize, but the words clog in his throat. He sheaths the sword—against Ghirahim’s wishes, he’ll pay for that later—and circles his uninjured hand on his chest, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, you didn’t know,” Twilight assures him. Sky shakes his head. Twilight didn’t deserve that, and Sky needs to make sure they’re even now. He doesn’t want this to be hanging over his head for weeks. He pushes past his discomfort and finds his voice.

“Do what you need to now, please,” Sky whispers. He closes his eyes and turns his face away. Cowardly as it may be, he doesn’t want to watch Twilight turn on him. Ghirahim laughs at his weakness.

“What?”

“Get it overwith now,” Sky says. “I’m sorry, I…”

“Sky, what are you talking about?”

Sky opens his eyes. Twilight is staring at him with wide, confused eyes. Sky’s head tilts to the side as he tries to figure out what’s going on.

“Um, I almost hurt you.”

“You didn’t,” Twilight inturrupts.

“But I almsot did. I’m asking if you’ll get even now, so it doesn’t have to hang over our heads,” Sky explains. Twilight stares. Sky’s face flushes with shame. “I’m sorry, I know I don’t have the right to ask, but I just…”

“Hey, feathers, listen to me. Whatever you think is happening, it’s not, okay? It was a mistake in the heat of battle. We’re good. If you need me to say it, you’re forgiven. Alright?”

Sky stares. His mind whirls. “You…Are you sure?”

Now, Twilight smiles. “I’m sure. Promise.”

Sky doesn’t understand, but then, he’s always known the heroes were as good as a person could be. Twilight is far too forgiving. Sky of all people does not deserve his kindness. Bright feelings burn within his chest, but Sky doesn’t care to examine them. Against his better judgement, he trusts Twilight.

“Okay,” Sky says, forcing a small smile.

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 18: Dystopia, environmental whump, ruins

There was a shortage of clean water in Hateno.

Zelda assigned herself to the task after the third person fell ill from the contaminated water, and the more she learned, the more distraught she became.

She’d asked about wells and aqueducts first. They aqueducts had been abandoned early on, and the wells were usable, but they hardly had the manpower to keep up with the maintenance. She asked about waste disposal next. It was like she had been transported back in time, instead of forwards; the loss of technology and best practices was immensely distressing.

No one else seemed as upset as she was.

“These things go around,” they’d said, as if it wasn’t entirely preventable.

Link had to pull her hands from her hair before she ripped it out. On the verge of tears, she asked him, “How many years of research have we lost? How much knowledge will we never be able to get back?”

Link flinched away. His jaw clenched as his gaze landed somewhere on the floorboards. With a sharp pang in her chest, Zelda realized what she had said—who she had said it to.

“Link, I…”

Abruptly, Link jumped to his feet. “The Zora will help.” Just like that, he was gone.

Zelda was alone, again.

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober day 17: Internal bleeding

"See? " Wind cheered. "I knew we could take them!”

Wild looped his arm around Wind’s elbow and grinned proudly at Twilight and Legend. "You have no faith in us! A couple of measely monsters are no match for nine Heroes of Courage!”

Legend scowled andstalked away. Twilight groaned and wiped his to hand over his face.

“I'm just saying,” Twilight argued, “we could’ve come up with a plan. "

“Or waited until we weren’t out of potions," Time grumbled as he wrapped bandages around a cut on Four's arm.

"He's fiiiiine," Wind said with a wave of his hand. Wild chuckled and made a mental note to make Four’s favorite meal as an apology, later.

“Is that everyone? Warriors asked, glancing around the field. "No one else hurt?"

Mumbled negatives, until Legend spoke up with urgency.

“Where's Sky?"

Everyone went silent as they looked around the battefield. Wild was just beginning to feel nervous when he heard it.

“Help…” The voice, barely audible, came from behind the treeline.

"SKY!" Wild screared, bolting towards the voice. The heroes pounded through the forest until they found Sky, barely conscious and propped up against a tree. Wild froze in his tracks, mouth agape in horror.

A spear was embedded in Sky’s side. His clothes were absolutely drenched in blood, and it was dripping down his side into a sizeable puddle on the forest floor.

Time’s words rang in his head: out of potions.

Warriors and Twilight were beside Sky before Wild could move. Warriors ripped off his scarf and pressed harshly against Sky’s side. Sky gasped in a wordless scream, face contorted in agony. Tears flowed down his cheeks as he gasped and heaved for breath.

“Sky, are you with me?” Warriors asked.

“I’m here.” Sky’s voice wasn’t anything more than a whisper. It was ore subdued than Wild had ever heard it.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Warriors eyes were scanning Sky’s body, taking stock of his injuries. He needed Sky to keep talking.

“I…’blin snuck up on Wild.'“

Wild’s heart plummeted into his feet. He put a hand over his mouth as nausea flooded his body. He did this.

“Didn’t see the spear. Didn’t—” Sky coughed harshly. A thin line of blood dribbled down his chin. He collapsed onto the ground, crying and writhing in pain.

“Sky, hey, you’re gonna be just fine. You hear me?” Twilight soothed. Sky was unresponsive. He and Warriors manouvered Sky until he was on his back, head resting in Twilight’s lap.

“Hold him down,” Warriors ordered. Twilight paled, but did as he was told. “Hyrule, Legend, with me. Time, when I say, pull the spear directly up. Do not let it move until I say so.”

The others scrambled into position. Hyrule’s hands glowed with the force of his life spell as they hovered over Sky’s side.

Wind pressed himself against Wild’s arm. Four stood behind them both, sword in hand.

“I didn’t know…” Wild mumbled. He shook his head. “I didn’t…”

“Not now,” Four hissed under his breath. Wild barely held back tears.

“Time, on three. One, two, three!”

Sky’s scream ripped through the forest, until he abruptly collapsed, unconcious.

Wild knew the sound would haunt him for the rest of his life.

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 31: Cuts

(Posting out of order bc day 16 isn’t done yet and I can do what I want 😁😁)

(CW: self harm)

Blood was not a sight Groose was unfamiliar with. It never had been, and it certainly wasn’t now. Seeing Link stumble into the temple covered in blood was nothing new, but it was always so much worse than seeing his own.

The trails of blood dripping down Link’s gaunt cheeks cut through Groose’s heart. It skipped a beat, then stopped altogether, somersaulting into his stomach. Link’s own stomach was bare, his shirt ripped away and his armor nowhere to be found. Groose’s eyes zeroed in on the hole in Llink’s stomach, and he moved.

Before he knew what he was doing, he was diving forward to catch Link as he fell. He ripped off his own shirt and didn’t have a second to spare for the terror that would normally instill in him. He used everything he had to hold pressure while Granny coaxed a potion down Link’s trembling throat.

It was only hours later, after Link had been stabalized and was resting peacefully, that Groose realized his chest was still bare. He froze, halfway through cleaning the soiled bandages off the floor, when he noticed Granny staring at his side. Staring at the cuts.

Groose’s mind went white with panic. He whipped around and grabbed the closest thing he could to cover himself. The harsh fabric thrown onto the fresh cuts burned. His scars itched, mocking him. Granny’s gaze weighed on his back until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“It’s nothing,” Groose snapped. Granny didn’t respond.

The silence went on long enough that Groose thought she would let it go. Too many emotions to name tumbled through his chest. Did he want her to let it go, like everyone else who discovered his secret had? Did he want her to interrogate him until he told her everything? How could he spill his soul about his weaknesses while the Link recovered from a real injury in the next room over?

“Sometimes…” Granny’s voice startled him so badly he flinched. The blood-soiled fabric fell from his hands and onto the floor with a sickening splat. “Sometimes, even with the smallest cuts, you can lose too much blood.”

Groose swallowed down bile. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Granny sighed, then took a deep breath in. “If you—”

Groose whipped around in fury. “I said it’s nothing!” Granny stared at him with an unreadable expression.

Groose huffed and shook his head. He shouldn’t have worried. No one ever seemed to know what to do with him, once they found out. Most people ignored him. Groose guessed Granny would go on treating him like normal, ignoring the storm clouds hanging over his head.

“I’m going to find more fairies.” The slam of the temple door echoed loudly through the forest.

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 15: Failed Rescue Attempt

(CW: animal abuse, pet death)

Link's chest burned as he heaved for breath. He couldn't stop, as much as his body begged for it, while Crimson was still missing. Everyone had assured him that the race could wait, but it only infuriated him more. Didn't any of them realize Crimson was his concern?

The shadows grew longer as the sun fell below the clouds. Link's muscles were on fire, blazing with pain, but he refused to be too slow for his oldest companion. He had to keep searching.

By the time Link found him, in the dead of night, it was already too late. Crimson's bones lay piled in the corner of the cold stone cell.

Link screamed.

Next part → (Continued on day 28)

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 14: Ignoring an Illness

Sky knew as soon as he woke up that it was a bad day. But they were on a schedule, so he dragged himself up regardles.

His joints stiffly resisted movement, clicking and grinding in protest. Oh, how he ached. Every thing felt for too tight, but his morning stretches hardly made a difference. Each joint stabbed and stung with pain, amplified with every movement. His muscles were hard as rocks. He jammed his fingers into me muscus of his neck but it only made his pounding headache worse.

Worse than the pain in his head was the dizzines. If he held perfectly still it was bearable, but every time he moved his head, the world shifted and lurched. Sparks of electricity tore through his limbs. He resolved to keeping his neck as still as possible.

Despite the tumultuous nausea in his stomach, and the bile burning as it clawed its way up his throat, he forced himself to eat some bread. The food cleared some of the fog from his mind, at least. He was finally able to stuggle through a complete thought.

The others wanted to move on. Sky said nothing. He pushed his limbs through the heavy weight of pain and fatigue.

Wild and Wind jumped aroud, making plans with Twiligh, Hyrule, and Four to go foraging after they stopped for the evening. Warriors and Legend bickered playfully, minds clear and wits sharp. Time led the pack with confidence. There was no tremble in his steps as he marched through the forest at a quick pace.

Emotions swirled through his body, flaring sharply and burning through his strength. Sky wished desperately, hopelessly, with everything he had, that he could go home.

Here, at the back of the group, no one noticed the few tears that slipped through his mask.

They had a quest. Sky refused to be too slow. He would kep walking, his body be damned.

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 13: Never Enough

The handmaids whispered of disease. Her father said they'd done everything they could. The priests said it was her time. None of them answered the one question Zelda wanted to know: why? Why did her mother have to die?

Never enough.

Zelda spent her mornings in lessons and her afternoons on her knees in prayer. Sometimes, after she snuck a glance upon the town, she would ask her father why she couldn't play like the other kids. She had a job to do, he'd said, a mission divinely imparted. She could rest when she was successful.

Never enough.

A boy pulled The Sword That Seals The Darkness. Everyone saw it for the doom that it was. Zelda's hands shook as she prayed—prayed for salvation, for guidance, for power, for wisdon, for any sign that her shortcomings wouldn't mean the destruction of her people.

Never enough.

He was perfet. He did everything right. Her father loved him. Her father told her to work harder, to be better, that her incompetance was known by all. Their deaths would be on her head.

Never enough.

Red flashes tore through her vision. Rain pierced her skin. Feet pounded on the dirt. Link's heaving, pained breaths were loud through it all as he fought to clear their path. He fell. They all fell. She was too late.

Never enough.

He only remembered fragments, bits and pieces from the meager images she left him. As much as he tried to convince her otherwise, this failure haunted them both.

Never enough.

[zelda-daily-drabbles]

Whumptober Day 12: "It'll be for nothing," withholding medical treatment

(CW: pet death)

“There has to be something!” Link screamed. “You can’t—”

His voice cracked as a sob broke out of his chest. His knees buckled. Groose’s arms around his chest supported him fully.

“You can’t—he can’t…”

Groose slowly lowered them both to the ground. Link crawled forward, hand outstretched, but Crimson didn’t react. His fingers threaded beneath the plumage, but there was no familiar warmth. The blood marring his side was long dried.

“We’ll—we’ll take him to a Spring, he can try—”

“Link,” Zelda whispered. She sucked in a shaky breath and wiped her own tears away. “It’s too late.”