#loz fandom

Sleepover before school  (August)

Vibing to songs

Wind sneaks alcohol and gets scolded by Hyrule after the minors get drunk except Four cuz he’s ✨responsible ✨(he’s not)

Wild tries to play saxophone and is unsurprisingly bad at it

It’s 3:30 and only Time and Sky are asleep. Someone randomly says “spoon” and everyone bursts out laughing 

Class 

Flora, Time and Four (the only ones paying attention)

Passing notes, napping etc at the back

The teacher either doesn’t care or doesn’t notice

Tulin is playing with Wild’s slate

Geography Road Trip (it’s a group project) idea from journeyspark from tumblr

Gas station stops 4 snacks & bathroom breaks 

Cramped Van with too little space™️

Legend keeps playing bad songs intentionally just to irritate people 

Sky gets carsick (Angst) 

Mid-year exams

Time singing lullabies for Wind to help him sleep (fluff)

Turning Caffeine (and Tears) Into Solutions 

Astor never dared to sleep in the castle with Ganondorf stalking about. The man never slept, neither did his mothers. The prophet swore up and down that he’d find his throat torn out when he woke up in the morning or even worse so he slept in the stables. Once he had come upon them in the night, stalking about and that was a sight he never wished to see again. The dead do not Rest In Peace. Midnight was a sort of alert for him, for she was a light sleeper, so he was confident he would never be approached by a murderer or thief in the night. He found comfort in being next to something at least, even if it was a horse. But all that night, his dreams were plagued about what others said about his master. Did Ganondorf truly wish for him to fail? What if even after all that work, he still didn’t uphold his end of the deal? How could Astor ensure the man did such a thing…? Another visit to Vaati was in order after he acquired the remaining Poes. 68 more. The day broke over the hills at all and he felt safe enough to head up to the man and cash in what he’d brought. Hyrule Castle’s outside path annoyed the hell out of him. Steep, winding, and now ruined from war and battle. Luckily the outside entrance into the dining hall was still in tact and the smell of rot told him that the three were up for the day.

“Hello in there! It’s just me.” He called out. They seemed to ignore him. No sound of breathing did they produce, so he could not attempt to listen in to see if they were simply trying to avoid him. Either way, he stepped into the dining hall. Kotake, the one in blue, and Koume, the one in red, were seated at the heads of the table. If Astor was correct in his research, then the complete darkness in their eyes was a sign of them being dormant… or lying in wait. He drew his bow, carefully lining it up and making sure that Vaati’s charm was hidden in his pocket and not tied to the end of the weapon. It whizzed past the underside of Koume’s nose and she shrieked, causing her twin to startle and scream as well.

“Damn you, boy!”

“Just checking to see if you were trying to trick me.”

“Why would we do that?” The two said in tandem, almost teasing.

“Because you nearly tore out my jugular when we first met.” Footsteps approached from behind. Astor drew his bow and turned around. It was Ganondorf and his first reaction was to cover the jewel on his forehead with his mummified hands. Astor found that odd, he’d make note of that.

You discovered a new fact about Ganondorf! Check it out in the Profiles section of your notebook.

He lowered his bow. “Sorry. I wasn’t sure who was there.”

“My boy.” A large brown hand was outstretched for the Poes. Hesitation blocked the seer’s nerves for a moment, his mind ringing with Vaati’s words. Ultimately, he handed the ghostly beings over. And once more, in their disgusting manner, Ganondorf and his mothers devoured the poor things. Usually Astor would’ve looked up at the purple crystal that held his sister, peaceful and perfect, but it was not above him. Matter of fact, it wasn’t in the room anymore.

Dread and panic took hold and forced his tongue. “Where is my sister?”

“She’s in the jailhouse.”

“You weren’t supposed to say that, you old hag!”

“Old hag!? You’re the same age as me.”

“My sister is WHERE?!”

“Well that’s just what you get for saying that you were 20 years younger than me!”

“I said that so long ago! That doesn’t count anymore!”

“Yes, it does!”

“No, it doesn’t!”

“YES. IT. DOES!!!!”

“For the love of the Gods, what of my sister? What of my sister?! Is she awake? Why is she down there?”

“If it weren’t for your big ass—!”

“We’re identical twins!”

“But you’re the stupid one!”

“No, you’re the stupid one!”

“SHUT UP!” Astor banged his fists on the table, rattling the empty cup and barren plates. The flames of the candle flickered and it was only then did they realize the black stain on the table that was eating the metal candleholder away slowly. All fell into silence until the boldest of them came to settle the issue.

“Your sister, Astor, she was disturbing us.”

“With her incessant fussing!”

“She wouldn’t stop talking!”

“She’s awake? You said she would not awaken lest you allowed it, have you lied?” Astor immediately accused with a pointed finger.

Dragmire silenced his bickering mothers. “She speaks in her slumber.” He clarified. “She speaks of things she should not know, she could not know.” The other ReDeads were tense, remembering the words, details, dates, times, places that came from the girl.

“So you sent her to the cellars?” He questioned with major offense.

The dead man smiled wickedly. “You can go bring her up if you’d like.”

His ladymothers then burst into cackles that nearly made his ears bled. “You mustn’t fret, Knightford!” The three decaying corpses knew of Astor’s newfound fear of the underground, they knew he would not go down to retrieve his sister unless truly necessary.

“We’ll bring her back up when she shuts up.” The urge to draw his bow was strong. At this range, an arrow to the head would most certainly kill them instantly, and with the medallion, the shot would be fired faster than they could even think to dodge or block it. But he thought of Ciella once more, sweet Ciella and could not risk her life for the sake of silencing the twin witches once and for all.

Though, he could always jest about how easy it would be to end them. “It’s so dark in this room, we ought to get some sunlight.”

Instantly, the two shrieked. “Don’t you DARE!” Astor’s hand lay on the edge of the curtain, teasing it, which with the tattered state of the fabric, could easily tear it, burning them.

“You see, we both have something to gain here, something to lose. I’d appreciate it if you stopped treating me as if I’m not someone who could kill you if I wished. I merely need to send word to the hero,” Ganondorf perked up, eyes wide with some version of terror, “of your location and it would be over for you three.” There was no smart response or joke said in reply. “Oh? Did that get you to listen at last? I suppose I should make my demands then. I want my sister back up here. Put her in another room above ground so I may see her without your prying eyes.”

Ganondorf’s gaze intensified, angry at the idea that he, the King of Evil, was being bossed around by some tiny runt of a Gerudo male that should’ve been slaughtered ages ago. “Fine. If I must keep you placated like an insufferable child, then I will. She will be kept in the Princess’s study.”

“I’ll check when I return.” Astor bowed just very slightly, fearing an attack.

“Will you not stay and rest?” He asked.

“No. There’s much to do and…” He bit his lip. “I’m planning to head to the Hebra Mountains. I believe that I’ve scoured the fields and much of Akkala for Poes and they’ve run dry. This will, of course, take longer for me to complete than my other excursions but it’s necessary in order for me to get you the Poes you require.” They seemed to look at each other and considered it.

“How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

“Three weeks.”

“Three weeks?!” The twins shrieked. “We can’t wait that long!”

“You’ll have to.” Astor responded with certainty.

Packing for the trip was going to be difficult as Astor came to realize. He had practice surviving and navigating harsh conditions regarding cold temperatures, such as the Gerudo Highlands, but they were going to be different than Herba. Either way, he was going to collect Poes along the way just in case it didn’t work out. Ganondorf didn’t supply him with jackshit, which was expected. Vaati was likely right, the Dark Lord wanted him to fail. Poor Ciella, he thought, at the will of men once more. Him or Ganondorf, and sometimes he wasn’t sure if he was any better than that corpse. It seemed such a cliché plot, two men fighting over a sacred maiden, something that was only in the storybooks that children assumed themselves with a time before realizing there were better things to read. And everyone already knew the adventures of the knight in shining armor and the misdeeds of the tyrant. What of the maiden? What did she dream of in that crystal prison, in that crystal prison that maidens of countless old tales were trapped in before her?

Dried meat, dried fruit, staples that he’d need for him and his horse. Some medical supplies would be nice if he could afford them. He gave himself three weeks and only three weeks, why couldn’t he have asked for more? So what if Kotake and Koume pitch a fit, those two and their son owed their lives to Astor. Slaving away under Master Kogha and his wise ass bodyguard just to revive a master that wasn’t worth reviving. Such a pitiful state his so-called lord was in! The dried skin that flaked off at the slightest turn of the neck or rotation of the arms, the cracking bones at the slightest shift of weight, not to mention how the man had to hold his stomach like a pregnant woman to prevent his own guts from spilling out and dragging on the floor! At least his mothers were not hulking masses of bones and decayed muscle and rid themselves of their abdominal organs, not having to throw ribbons of intestines over their shoulders like a satchel. The ‘Great’ King of Evil was a complete and utter mess.

The wind medallion was wrapped securely around the wood of his bow with fabric. Hiding it beneath the black would prove useful since there would be no telling if someone working for the King of Evil would be able to recognize it. In truth, he’d simply like a better bow but he wasn’t about to go toe to toe with a monster to get a new one.

Dried apples, dried strips of common meat from a goat, some Hylian herb, and ale. He couldn’t bring water, it would freeze. Allegedly, honey couldn’t spoil but that’s more something that he’d resort to if he was desperate. Some hearty truffles, a bit of endura shroom and stamella shroom, that would hold him over. But that wasn’t his first stop. Kakariko. His undershirt was ripped. It must’ve happened when he was working on the lab, he remembered a monster dropped a stone and it hit his back. He had scolded the thing severely but that didn’t change the cold breeze that hit his bare back. He and his horse were Southwest bound to the village, though he knew he wouldn’t reach it until nightfall, which actually was ideal for him. In reality he wasn’t supposed to have this stealth gear, it was reserved for Sheikah folk only.

He had to take a slight detour through the ranch ruins to avoid a bokoblin camp of archers, collecting spicy peppers along the way. If he could catch a butterfly or some insect, he could make an elixir. By accident, he ended up taking a longer path, around Whistling Hill and across the Owlan Bridge. It wasn’t in vain, he collected plenty of food and supplies along the way but he felt a pang of frustration when he realized he missed his turn far too late to turn back. However, past Eagis Bridge, he saw a traveling merchant, Nembis (a ridiculous name, Astor thought), who complained about the lack of sales. Well, Astor had some rupees. He bought some spicy peppers and a bit of cheese and milk. He was thirsty and cheese was hard to come by. He managed to even haggle down the price of the Hateno cheese to a mere 12 rupees and enjoyed the taste of it on the rest of his ride. The Sun was completely down and the sky was cloudy by the time he reached the start of Sahara’s Slope. A bad feeling took over him. The way those clouds looked… every high oracle to lowly fortune teller in Hyrule could tell it was a sign of evil showing itself, or that’s at least what Astor thought. What was happening in Kakariko Village? Clouds like these were something only seen in the old tales. It could not have been Vaati, and Ganondorf was far too weak for any sort of attack. As Midnight climbed the hill, the world began to get darker and darker, the air thick with the smell of old blood. It was a new Moon tonight and the stars didn’t dare to show themselves, hiding away in fear. He arrived at 1AM.

Every window was boarded up, he could see the shadows of the wooden planks because the lights were still on. It seemed the outside of the town was deserted. Had no one come out of their house in days? He left Midnight by the entrance but she was insistent on not being left alone and thus followed the trail of blood with him. It was to the graveyard, overlooking Telta Lake. Under that dying tree, shedding its red and orange and yellow leaves, was a woman with hair of moonlight and a skinny frame. She had a purple and magenta skirt with much poof, an eye design and vertical strips all along the fabric, and a magenta corset that clung to her torso, along with a sort of shrug with two tone purple puff shoulders and sleeves that connected to a loop around her middle finger. She let go of the child’s body, rudely tossing it to the ground and lunged at him. Astor had only a split second to process the ruined throat of the kid, and he only spoke the name—

“Kana?!”

The woman paused, raising her white brow. “Who?”

Realizing this was not Kana’s body, Astor pulled the knife from his thigh in defense. “What the hell are you?!” Moonlight cast shadows all over her and he could count her ribs until the bit of soft breast held up by the corset blocked the rest of the view. The sweetheart neckline with soft swoops instead of a classic crisp heart shape displayed on the torso the same eye as the two on the sides of the skirt, only the corset had a tear below the eye on it. She had sharp bangs that were cut diagonally, the lower side on her right and it nearly covered all of the eye on that side. On each large ear that stuck out on the sides of her head were large pink diamonds that matched the one on her chest that was built into the shrug in some way.

“I really should be the one asking that. Don’t you know that this village is a death trap?”

“I could tell by the clouds.”

“The clouds? I thought seers of the olden ways died out.”

“Are you the one the newspapers are talking about?” He questioned.

“I am not responsible for those cannibal attacks, I toss my bodies in the lake below. But I am responsible for the state you see this pitiful village in now.” She said rather proudly, a sharp fang sticking out in her smirk.

“Then who the hell…” His thoughts returned to Kana. Those red streaks in her hair could’ve been overlooked in a witness’s panic and she did wear purple, though it was not the first purple that came to mind when someone mentioned the color. And what was all that talk about Kakariko doing well? That wasn’t the case, not at all. “Just how much are you controlling this village?”

“I’m not telling you that, get out.”

“You’re Sheikah, well, racially anyway. I remember… I think I remember that you Yiga don’t consider yourselves Sheikah anymore.”

“Yiga? Those buffoons? Ha!” She threw her head back and with how thin and brittle she appeared, Astor feared she could’ve snapped her own neck with the sudden action. “I do how much for a revolution and my successors are weak, pathetic, banana-obsessed fools!? Oh come on! My fucking Goddesses, this land has regressed far past even the laissez-faire reign of Ume Ziyu! You know, we used to have neon lights, do you know what that is? We had fucking bombchu bowling alleys, shooting galleries—”

“What’s a bombchu?”

Her eye twitched. “Oh my Gods. You know what, you know what? I’m going to end your miserable existence. Thank me later.” The silver kyoketsu-shoge hit his arm and sliced it deeply, black bile rushing out. In response to the black puddle taking shape and wriggling like bugs under skin, she screamed. “Oh fuck, ew, ew, ew! That’s disgusting! Put it back!” That ancient yet posh accent, the fine silk and lace gown, the large and high ears, the long nails. This was a former royal or at least an aristocrat.

“Oh?” His face wore a mischievous look, a purple brow raised. “Afraid?”

“I am most certainly not!”

“Liar. What if I made it jump at you? What then?” In truth, Astor was the true liar. He knew damn well he could not control the Malice inside him but he’d used whatever leverage he had in this instance. “I’ll do it! One, two…”

“Stop, stop, stop! I am Grace Tsukuyomi of the Sheikah, for the love of Lady Moon, you will respect my authority!”

He chuckled behind his own hand. “Perhaps I’ll reconsider if you do me a favor.”

“A lady such as myself does not do ‘favors’.”

“You see, I came here to get my clothing fixed.” Astor continued on. “This shirt,” he lifted up his overshirt and took it off entirely, “is made specially by the Sheikah for stealth. Of course, they don’t typically give them to outsiders but I had some interesting friends back in the day.”

“After all this time, we still live in the shadows. Exclusive and shady.” Her long nearly claw-like nail came to rest over the diamond on her chest. “Still shadow folk. How long’s it been? Millions of years? Long enough to forsake the Gods in favor of a glorified angel that stood there and let our people suffer on the surface for her favorites.” Red eyes drifted to the symbol on his short cape. “Ah. A sand snake. No wonder you’re so unrefined. You’re so pale that I didn’t catch it at first but had I looked closer, those eyes… they give you away. Furthermore, your ears are dreadfully short.”

“Racist too, just my luck. Listen, can you repair my shirt or do I have to use this?” He lifted his arm, the black liquid slowing gradually.

“Why not go to those Yiga fools? You could simply offer a banana for them to fix it!” She nearly snorted.

“Because the desert is harsh and Gerudo women are cruel.” He explained shortly. “Besides, I was expecting a village full of people and I have three weeks to head to Hebra and back.” Without another word, she walked past him and into the main village once more. The command was clear: ‘follow me’. Begrudgingly, he obeyed and they walked up the hill to the building with a sign that had a shirt drawn on it in white. Her nails scratched on the eye symbol on the door’s pale yellow window screen.

“It’s a shame they think simple wooden boards and shoddy talismans will hold me back. I could kill them at any time, really.”

“They aren’t drawing them right.” He closed his eyes and saw inside the building, the fresh ink running down yellowed pages. “They’ve got the third symbol down wrong for the type of demon or thing you are. They think they’re dealing with a spirit.”

“You have the eye…” Grace said with wonder. “I knew some Gerudo could have it but I disregarded those tales as ridiculous rumors.” Realization settled slowly on her face. “Wait. How do you know that the characters were wrong when it’s in—”

“Sheikah?” He finished. “I speak it.”

“An uppity snake, great! I’ll be glad when you’re gone.” She pushed down the door. “Go on and take what you want and leave.” Astor wasn’t entirely comfortable with face to face combat. The days in which he ran with the Yiga were much easier. It’s easy to look at the dead when they can’t look back. He stepped inside the shop.

He remembered when he first saw glazed over eyes. It was his Ciella. When did he start calling her his? Was it from the start? He was four when Ciella was born and he nearly thought of her as a doll, he even carried her around as such. She was pale as sin, more than him. Her eyes were so huge and round, just like the Moon in the sky. He took her around Lurilin all the time, carefully to avoid the Sun so as to not be beaten by his mother for giving them tans. It was up to Astor to carefully place the umbrella to cover the place they wanted to play on the beach. Ciella, in her little brown dress, loved the feel of the warm sand and the sound of the gentle waves on the shore as Astor tried and failed to braid her hair. He wasn’t very nimble with his fingers in his youth. Then again, what five year old was? Ciella was two when a teal colored crab pinched her cubby forearm and she cried and cried and cried and Astor nearly believed she’d drown all of Hyrule with her tears. In retaliation, he beat the crab senselessly on a rock and that night the Knightford household had seafood. No, they weren’t called the Knightfords back then, but he didn’t want to know or remember what name his horrid father cursed him with, it was better that it was long forgotten. As time chugged along, his parents let him lose to the world, Ciella begging to be at his side at every moment. They were along the beaches, further than they were supposed to be when he saw the object that soon grew to be an obsession. He should’ve spent more time with Ciella, instead of abandoning her for machines of old he should’ve been on that same beach, collecting the smallest seashells he could find, tracing the lines in her palms and wrist but he left her and when he returned, she was gone.

Those big eyes that once shone brightly were dull, the life from them long gone. The least he could’ve, should’ve done was bury her. He couldn’t bring himself to.

He came to on his horse as she slowly rode out and down the hill.

You got stealth gear!

Itsmellslikebloodandfearit’sallyourfaultastor

Press + and go into the Clothing Tab in your Inventory to change clothes for different environments and needs!