the-little-robyn
the-little-robyn
Chaos, weirdness, and everything else in between
1K posts
Robyn || She/they || needs sleep. https://linktr.ee/robyncallisto
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the-little-robyn · 7 days ago
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the-little-robyn · 22 days ago
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sinking town
They make me sick oouuh 🥹🥹🥹🥹
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the-little-robyn · 23 days ago
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Just poppin' in to wish ya'll a happy pride month 🏳️‍🌈 🏳️‍⚧️ Yippeee!
Boy, it's been a while since I post some artwork here, huh?
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the-little-robyn · 1 month ago
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Find Princess Zelda: Complete. Happy 2nd anniversary, Tears of the Kingdom ❤️ Cheers!!
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the-little-robyn · 2 months ago
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i feel so completely directionless
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the-little-robyn · 2 months ago
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Yeaaahhh....
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At the moment how I feel
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the-little-robyn · 2 months ago
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I'm replaying pokemon heartgold and my team got infected with pokerus
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the-little-robyn · 2 months ago
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botw x httyd au hard launch (that i cannot for the life of me figure out a name for so if anyone has ideas PLEASE hmu)
everyone thank @blueorchid1707 for inspiring this and reading through my yapping
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im about to have a few big projects on my plate so i cant promise much content for this thing until those are over, but any contributions are welcome and i hope to continue working at it when i can! :)
(if anyone wants access to my brainstorming doc simply dm me and i shall bestow upon thee the link. its a mess in there and is mostly me talking to myself but have at it if you so desire)
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the-little-robyn · 2 months ago
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drake?
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the-little-robyn · 2 months ago
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the-little-robyn · 2 months ago
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the thing is that childhood doesn't just end when you turn 18 or when you turn 21. it's going to end dozens of times over. your childhood pet will die. actors you loved in movies you watched as a kid will die. your grandparents will die, and then your parents will die. it's going to end dozens and dozens of times and all you can do is let it. all you can do is stand in the middle of the grocery store and stare at freezers full of microwave pizza because you've suddenly been seized by the memory of what it felt like to have a pizza party on the last day of school before summer break. which is another ending in and of itself
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the-little-robyn · 2 months ago
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Why am I so freaking socially awkward
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the-little-robyn · 3 months ago
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the-little-robyn · 3 months ago
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Since the switch 2 has a built in microphone does this mean they're going to port phantom hourglass and spirit tracks too?
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the-little-robyn · 3 months ago
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ZELDA FANS, HOW ARE WE FEELING RN??!!!
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the-little-robyn · 3 months ago
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Seeing my family members using the AI ghibli filter is slowly chipping away my health bar
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the-little-robyn · 3 months ago
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The Garden Doesn’t Know She’s Gone Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom Fanfic by MythboundCal
Zelda’s garden doesn’t know she’s gone.
It still blooms like she’ll be back any second—like the sunflowers haven’t noticed she stopped humming to them, like the lavender didn’t watch her vanish into light.
Link stands at the gate. The wood is soft with age, half-swallowed by ivy. The watering can rests exactly where she left it in Hateno. Rusting. Waiting.
He doesn’t touch it.
Not out of neglect.
Just… fear.
That if he waters the garden, it might forget her—that its roots will stop searching for her footsteps, its blossoms will stop blooming in her colors.
So he lets it grow wild.
The basil climbs the wrong wall. The squash vines curl over the porch. The chimes still sing when the wind hits just right, a song no one ever wrote down.
And her gloves still hang on a bent nail by the shed. One turned inside out. He doesn’t fix it.
Somewhere beneath the soil are seeds she never named. He won’t dig for them. If they bloom, they bloom. If they don’t… he’ll wait with them.
Today, he sits. The Master Sword leans nearby, but he doesn’t reach for it.
The porch creaks under his weight. He watches the marigolds twitch in the breeze, reaching for hands that never come.
The villagers don’t ask anymore. He’s glad.
Because how do you explain a wound that grows flowers?
Even now, he hears her voice on the air—light, scolding, fond. “Don’t overwater the rosemary, Link. It hates being fussed over.”
He doesn’t answer.
Just lets the wind rustle the leaves. Lets the garden carry the silence.
And when a white lily opens—out of season, out of place—he doesn’t wonder how.
The garden remembers.
So he doesn’t have to.
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