#ArtisticGaming

[star-mania]

A Simple Betilla Doodle

Currently working on more OC projects, so have a little doodle in the meantime.

[naptechgames]

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[skyloftian-nutcase]

Anybody want more Good Ganondorf content?

(@silvercaptain24 more of that plot bunny you had :) also @luckybyrdrobyn @artisticgamer @wildsage00 I remembered to tag y'all this time lol)

Link wasn't entirely sure how long he had been stuck in this bedroom after the Gerudo women had left, but he knew it had been too blasted long. By his third attempt to get out of bed, he had at least finally managed to sit up without immediately wanting to pass out. If he could just manage to get up, it would be a start.

The room was small, and the only supplies were medicinal, with the exception of some food and water. No weapons in sight, naturally, but he wouldn't expect any from...

Well. He couldn't exactly call this place a cell, but he was a prisoner nonetheless.

Why had they captured him? Why hadn't they just killed him? Did they need him to use the Triforce? They'd already seized the Triforce of Courage from him in the last battle (and goddesses he tried so very hard to not think about the last battle, about their catastrophic failure, about the bodies littering the field, the queen's desperation and anger and panic and--). He couldn't imagine why they possibly needed him. Cia had been obsessed with him but had still tried to kill him; Ganondorf didn't even care about his existence, so why was he still alive?

He wasn't finding out. He was getting out of here.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, the door swung open, making the captain jump. He tried to stand and face whoever was entering, but all he succeeded in doing was nearly face planting on the floor until strong, steady hands caught him.

"Nabooru figured you might try to get up," a deep voice rumbled.

Link's blood ran cold. He knew that voice. He'd heard it on the battlefield. He'd heard it when the Triforce of Courage was ripped out of him.

Ganondorf.

The captain tried to struggle against the monster's grip, but he was still too frustratingly weak. Before he knew it he was scooped up into massive arms, and a mild panic squeezed his chest so tightly he couldn't breathe. He couldn't stand to be so close to the man, so completely and utterly helpless and vulnerable in the arms of someone who could crush him in a heartbeat.

When he was gently lowered into the bed, he stared at Ganondorf in a mixture of bewilderment and wariness. "What do you want from me?"

Ganondorf raised an eyebrow at the question. "Currently, I want you to stop trying to get out of bed. You're going to worsen your condition."

Link narrowed his eyes. "And then?"

"And then?" Ganondorf repeated. "And then you'll get sicker, foolish child."

"What difference does it make to you?"

Ganondorf sighed. "Despite whatever idea of me you might have, I'm not interested in you getting yourself killed."

Link inhaled sharply to throw out a retort and found he had none, his mind too weary for whatever biting remark it usually would conjure. Then images of the battle came to mind, and he suddenly found he had far more words than he could say all at once. He settled for, "Killing people hasn't seemed to bother you that much."

Ganondorf watched him a moment, his expression unreadable. It made Link squirm. Finally, the man looked away. "I understand your impression of me is based on the war. That's... understandable. You'll be surprised to know my intentions with the Triforce are not to destroy Hyrule, and I don't kill outside the battlefield. I prefer not to kill at all if I don't have to... but war is war."

The words tore through Link's uneasiness, setting his heart and mind on fire. He jerked upright in the bed, ignoring the dizzy spell that accompanied it. "War is war?! That's your excuse for causing Hyrule to be torn apart at the seams?! Is that what you said before they sealed you away as well?!"

"And what words does your queen use?" Ganondorf fired back, his voice lowering dangerously.

"Queen Zelda is trying to protect Hyrule!" Link argued, his vision blurring as he turned to face his enemy more fully. "This entire war started because of you!"

"I had my soul split into pieces and was sealed away," Ganondorf said, his voice growing quiet, and the air in the room grew impossibly heavy. "Would you not do anything to escape such a torturous fate? I used what abilities I had to manipulate someone powerful enough to do the deed. The destruction she wrought as a result is not my doing."

"Nice way of saying you started this mess but don't want to take responsibility for it," Link snapped.

Surprisingly, that gave the king pause, and he sighed, looking away. "I cannot claim responsibility for what I have not done. I won't. Everything that has occurred since my return is my doing. Not before."

Link was growing too worn out for this argument, but he still had too many things to say. When he opened his mouth to do so, however, he coughed instead, collapsing onto the pillows. Ganondorf's gaze returned to him, softer and mildly worried, and it baffled Link beyond comprehension.

His enemy shook his head subtly with another sigh and tucked the hero in a little better. "I figured this conversation would be too much for you in this state. Get some rest, child."

The captain wanted to scream at him, to find the Master Sword and gut him, but between the man's strange look and the teenager's own exhaustion, all he could do was comply, closing his eyes.

[destiel-more-like-im-dead-again]

... did you make a little Cas plush?

Have you ever tried knitting or crocheting, Dean?

Yeah I’ve knitted the intestines of idiots and crocheted the tendons of damned

[nannelflannel]

Tagged by @stardust-king !!!

name: danielle!

nickname: elle, flannel, bullet

age: 21 ayyyy

gender: cis fem

eyes/hair: greyish blue?? Maybe. And usually pastel pink and brown roots, but I’ve been trying to do red, but my hair keeps fading to blonde ;n; (i bleached it a lot, it’s probably too porous now, rip)

piercings: none~

scars: mmm i got a tiny one on my leg from slipping at a pool once, somehow still have it lmao

tattoos: just one, of this lil doodle my grandma does~ i really want an autobot insignia on my ankle, and desmond’s arm tattoo from assassins creed, and probably a fox somewhere nyeheh

alignment: probably true neutral tbh

myer briggs: isfp, the artist~

sexuality: mmmm i wanna say demibi cause im bad at labels and I’m honestly a big ol question mark

occupation: retail worker and a struggling artist 🤙

pets: i have my girlfriend’s cat snuggles to love on haha, and I really want a dog one day

religion: agnostic tbh, i like to think that we just become space stuff again, like we started out as~

languages: just english, and im barely good at it now

hobbies: i love me some drawing, i work on comics with the lovely @radicalhighgay, and I’ve started getting into film/animation analysis too lmao. And I play video games a lot heheh

interests: oof there’s so many tbh, but my mains are probably sonic, transformers, assassins creed, pokemon, aaaand memes

blogs: this one and @bullet-art, my badly kept art blog, and I do the art on @sfytc-au , @single-parents-night-au , @og-freedom-fighters , @askhumansmokebee , and @tfphomecoming !

tags: yall dont gotta do this but if you wanna~~ @radicalhighgay @zonerz @pikachugirl1250 @atatfortatzelwurm @superemeralds @artisticgamer @sapphirechao @infinite-ruby-things and if i forgot anyone pls forgive me shshshjfjkfh

Thank!! These are fun ;w;

[possym-blog]

tonights mood feat. my shit edgy music taste

[hiddenawayhaven]

Deku Link! What a project! Took me about 15 hours to make from start to finish. I am some proud. Original pattern by Artisticgaming and the pattern can be found here: http://artisticgaming.com/portfolio/legend-zelda-deku-link-free-crochet-pattern/ #dekulink #legendofzelda #loz #crochet #amigurumiaddict #crochetaddict (at Halifax, Nova Scotia)

[star-mania]

Game Controller by Star-Mania

Started playing more video games in my downtime. This is something I made to get me back into the digital art scene.

Posted using PostyBirb

[raise-our-glasses-to-freedom]

Revolutionary Squad X Reader: Carnival

Word Count: 805

Pronouns: They/Them

Summary: A sequel to Another Time, Then?. Read that first. 

You smooth the wrinkles out of your shirt as you look in the mirror, inspecting your appearance. You tuck a stray hair behind your ear and blink. You look good. Your smile lights up your face, crinkling your eyes.

John pokes his head into your bedroom and looks you over from head to toe.

“There’s no need to be so fancy. We’re just going to a boardwalk,” he remarks.

“It’s always good to make a first impression,” you retort. “Your jeans and t-shirt won’t impress them much.”

“First impression? Y/N, we’ve met them already. I would imagine that our first impression was not that bad if I literally beat one of them up and they still want to go out tonight!”

You roll your eyes at your boyfriend. “I imagine they want to go out with me. You’re just a tagalong.”

“A tagalong?” John exclaims, breathless. He regains a tall posture and lifts his eyebrow. “We shall see.”

  You end up meeting the other three guys fifteen minutes later than proposed, as you stood with John and a rather large ice cream for twenty minutes. When they finally approached, you said nothing, and simply lifted your eyebrows at the three men.

“Our car wouldn’t start,” Hercules apologized.

“Then we got stuck in traffic!” Alexander complained.

“Just come on,” you tell them, gesturing towards the boardwalk, which leads to a carnival in the distance. “If we’re going to arrive before the lines get long, we should hurry up.”

Each of the guys agreed with your suggestion, and you all sauntered along the boardwalk, admiring the reflection of the sunset in the water. You glance behind you and notice John and Alexander walking closely, talking in hushed voices.

“Apologizing, John?” You question your boyfriend. He simply rolled his eyes. You then turned to address Alexander.

“Well, don’t be stealing my boyfriend,” you tease him.

“I already have these two,” he says, gesturing to Hercules and Lafayette. “I don’t need another.”

You laugh, amused at the joke. When Alexander doesn’t join in, but simply smiles, you stop laughing in confusion.

“Wait, so … you three are dating each other?” You question.

“Yeah,” Hercules responds. “It’s a bit strange to people who have never heard of polyamory before, but … yeah. We’re all boyfriends.”

You stay silent for a few minutes, processing this information.

“Uh, I’m … I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” Alexander breaks the silence.

“No, it’s fine. It just … wasn’t what I was expecting.”

The bright lights of the carnival blare in front of you, dazzling your eyes.

“Laf, what’s the french word for a carnival?” Alexander asks.

“Kermesse,” Laf responds. “Or carnival. They can both be used.”

  You enjoy the carnival rides to the best of your extent, but there are too many questions bubbling in your brain. You eventually just stand off to the side, watching the four guys on the ferris wheel, feigning sickness from the rather large ice cream you had eaten.

You drift off into your thoughts and don’t even realize when the boys arrive at your side. John pokes you in the arm.

“Want to do anything else, or are you tired?” John asked you.

“Can we head back?” You demand. “I’m just a bit tired.”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

  You wander back on the boardwalk with the group. Alexander, John and Lafayette quickly immerse themselves in a deep conversation about languages.

Nerds.

You watch Hercules walking off to the side, not participating in the conversation, but watching Alexander and Lafayette - his two boyfriends - with love in his eyes. You move to be standing beside Hercules, and you gently touch his shoulder.

“Yeah?” He asks you.

“Can I ask you about your relationship?” You tread gently, not wanting to intrude or make him uncomfortable.

“Sure! Go ahead.”

“How … does it work? How can you date two people at once?”

“It’s just like you can have two friends at once, right? It’s just that I love both Alexander and Lafayette romantically.”

“Don’t you ever get jealous?”

“No. We talk a lot in our relationship. Communication is always really important,” says Hercules. “We always make sure that each of us is comfortable.”

“Wow. That’s actually … really interesting.”

“They both make me really happy,” admits Hercules. “I love them both, and I really can’t imagine life without either of them.”

“That’s really sweet,” you smile. “I wish I had a relationship like that.”

“Do you not have that with John?” Hercules questions.

“Well, I suppose, yeah. It’s just that, dating more than one person sounds really interesting,” you tell him. “And to think that it unnerved me a bit earlier.”

Hercules smiles. “It’s always great to make people more open to the idea of polyamory. It can be really great if you find the people that you’re destined to love.”

Tag List: @fightmeatweedhawken @artisticgamer @kanadianwithashippingproblem @spicydice @drabbles-of-a-cosmonaut

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Do you remember the asks I sent a while ago about how another hero would have risen faster if Zelda had let link die in the calamity and the new hero’s « imaginary friend » was the spirit of botw link acting as the companion for the new hero? And how it would make botw link’s family feel? Do you think you could write something with that?

(@wildsage00 @luckybyrdrobyn @artisticgamer)

There was chatter of a strange swordsman amongst the gossipers in Hateno.

Abel was wary of it. He didn't like when there was "exciting" news in Hateno. He preferred it when the village was quiet. It had been quiet for so long, any change in the status quo immediately put him on edge.

He could only handle so much these days. Hylia knew Lyra was enough of a handful.

It had been fifteen years since the Calamity. Fifteen years since he'd lost nearly everything, fifteen years since he'd failed in his duty as a knight, as a husband, and as a parent, fifteen years since he'd buried his soldiers, civilians, his father-in-law, his wife, and his son all within the span of a few weeks.

He still had never spoken of it since then.

In a way, it was foolish of him not to bring it up. Clearly Lyra was just as affected as him, and she had far more of her mother's temperament than his own. He handled the matter silently while she fell apart. He held her while she cried herself to sleep night after night, shivering from nightmares, begging him to make it better and find a way to bring her family back.

She'd stopped crying, after a while. He'd hoped it meant she was improving, but he knew better. His daughter's one saving grace was that both her parents were stubborn, and she had inherited that. It had been interesting, watching which child took after which parent and how they blended them together. Link had always been sensitive, and he had grown quiet under pressure, putting duty above all else like his father. Lyra had always been louder like her mother, understanding the importance of duty but always questioning it; despite this, she held much of her father in her, growing resistant, angry, driven, outright frightening in the face of pressure. She would rise to the challenge and destroy any obstacle in her way out of pure spite if she had to.

As the years had gone by, Lyra's stubbornness and anger came to a head in her adolescence, that horrid time when a desire to grow, naiveté to the world, and self centered viewpoint all mixed into a stubborn and emotional teenager who wouldn't listen.

Those years had been difficult. Abel and Lyra had fought many times, and he'd had to leave the village in search of her more often than he cared to recall. She'd been insistent on learning how to fight, on reclaiming Hyrule as if she could do so by herself, on picking up her brother's sword and killing Ganon singlehandedly.

Those years had... strained their relationship. But they were trying to rebuild. Abel had compromised, teaching her a little of how to fight. She patrolled the forest just outside of Hateno and fought off monsters. Every time she returned with excited tales of her victories his smile grew a little more. It was a fair arrangement, and it kept things quiet and peaceful.

Until the talk of a swordsman started.

Visitors to Hateno Village were a rarity. No one dared venture out of whatever safe haven they had found the first few years after the Calamity. Refugees trickled into town the first few years and Hateno could barely support them. It wasn't until close to a decade later that anyone dared explore once more, and that was when word spread of the dangers of travelers. Strangers were watched warily these days.

Abel washed some dirt off his hands by the pond as he listened to some women gossiping. He heard feet shuffling and glanced to see Uma, one of the village teenagers, approaching him.

"Sir Abel, Mom says there's a swordsman in town," she noted.

Abel hummed noncommittally in acknowledgement.

"Have you seen him?" Uma continued gently.

Abel sighed. Uma was one of the chattier kids in the village, and she found events outside of Hateno fascinating. Naturally, she gravitated towards those who had any sort of experience with the rest of the world, so Abel had been victim to her interrogations in the past. An exciting visitor was definitely likely to pique her interest. "No. And you'd best be careful about him."

Uma gave a small pout, nodding a little in acknowledgement before asking, "Do you know where Lyra is?"

As a matter of fact, Abel did not know. Given the current excitement buzzing through town, he probably should look for her. "No."

"Oh. Ok. Can I get you anything before I go, Sir Abel?"

Abel paused from drying his hands on his tunic. The question was spoken innocently from the lips of a child who didn't know any better, but its origin was something he didn't care to think about.

Hateno Village was not a large place. Everyone knew everyone. They had all known Abel and his family, they had all seen Link walk through town to get home with a legendary blade on his back. Though many didn't know the happenings of Hyrule, word spread of the Hero of Hyrule, the Princess' Champion, and his role in destiny. Just before the Calamity it had gotten bad enough that Link no longer spoke in to anyone in the village and barely uttered a word in the safety of his family's home. When everything had fallen apart...

Well. Abel didn't care for the way people looked at him. Most did so with pity. Some with curiosity, eager to hear what had actually happened. The mayor had been kind enough to prevent any sort of interrogation. Over the years the concern and nosiness had transferred to their children. Uma was a kind soul from a kind family, and had clearly been told that Abel was in need of help, and so she always offered when she could.

He hated it.

"No," he answered quietly, and the teenager traipsed off, likely in search of Lyra, unbothered by his short responses.

Sighing, the world weary man turned and nearly ran into yet another teenager, though he immediately realized this one was not from the village. Based on the boy's dark complexion and black hair, he looked like he could be from Lurelin Village, one of the few remaining hamlets in the entire country. He was built strong; though short in stature, his muscles were apparent, sculpted from training though still softened by youth. He wore garb from the fishing village, all the more confirmation to Abel, and, as suspected based on the rumors, he had a sword on his back alongside multiple travel supplies.

Abel watched the boy warily. He hadn't expected the swordsman to be this young, but he still didn't trust him. What was he doing here, anyway?

"Um... hi," the teenager said, shifting in place awkwardly. "I... heard that girl--Uma? She... she called you Sir Abel. Are you Sir Abel?"

"What do you want?" Abel asked, crossing his arms and staring the boy down.

The teenager shriveled a little under his gaze before glancing to his right, staring at something for a moment. He took a shaky breath, his hazel eyes darting back to Abel for a moment.

Something about this kid was off.

"My... I..." the kid tried awkwardly, and then gave a sharp bow. "Sorry! I'll leave now!"

With that, the boy rushed by him, heading for the village inn. Abel watched him go, hackles less raised than before as he grew bemused.

XXX

The inn was really nice. Like, much nicer than the one back home. Of course, he guessed more people came here. Hateno was more centrally located. Maybe that was it.

Link didn't know. All he knew was this place was so big and overwhelming. He missed home.

After paying for a place to rest, he dragged his feet upstairs, thankful that he had the place to himself. Then he looked hesitantly to his right. "I'm... I'm sorry. He's... I..."

"It's okay," came the always quiet voice as the Hero reappeared, eyes downcast. "He can be intimidating."

Link watched his companion worriedly. The Fallen Hero often had an air of sadness to him, but he usually tried to hide it behind a neutral face or a small smile. Today had been a nerve wracking day for both of them - as soon as he'd been given this new task he'd seen the tension in his companion increase, and he'd spoken even less.

"You said he was the captain of the guard," Link offered with a shrug, trying to cheer him up and also trying to figure this out. "I mean... captains sound intimidating."

The Hero huffed a little, not commenting, still gazing somewhere far beyond where Link could reach. He wondered if it had to do with the Hero's guilt. Link had seen his friend through the years, playing with him, and as he'd grown older the visits had been fewer and far between until the Hero had finally admitted his true destiny with reluctance. He had apologized, stating that the fault was his own, but had promised to be with him every step of the way. Link had found what answers he could from his family and his village, but not much was known about the Hero of Hyrule except that he, alongside all the other Champions, had been killed.

Link supposed the true issue, then, was that the Hero's guilt made him think that he had failed the captain of the royal guard. After all, he had been tasked with protecting not just Hyrule, but the princess specifically. Now she was trapped in the castle.

This entire side quest was... terrifying to Link. He had been traveling with his friend for a good while now, but after many battles and growing in strength, the Hero had said they needed to find Sir Abel, who would be able to help him find the legendary sword that they would need to defeat Ganon. That had led them to Hateno Village.

The idea of taking the mantle of Hero had not quite sunk in until he'd realized that once he accepted that sword, he accepted his destiny. Having to do so was already weighing heavily on him... having to speak to such a scary looking man didn't help.

He kind of looked like his friend, though. That was weird.

"I'll talk to him, I promise," Link said as he sat on the bed. "I just... need to come up with a good way to approach him. Got any tips?"

The Hero hugged himself, looking opposite of Link.

Well, great. His friend was really upset about this. Link sighed. "Hey. It's... don't feel bad about... him. The Calamity destroyed the entire country and killed all the Champions. You know that it's... it's okay, right?"

He'd been trying to have this conversation for a while now. It was obvious his companion bore the weight of the entire Calamity on his shoulders. He'd tried dancing around the subject, thanking him for his help, saying he was great fun to be around. It had been complicated at first - he'd wondered if the Hero had befriended him as a child just to manipulate him into doing his duty when he was older. But he knew this person - he knew the reason he'd befriended him was out of shame, not some devious ulterior motive. So he'd been trying to cheer him up, because any joy he'd seen in his friend had slowly drained out of him as their quest had progressed.

The Hero looked back at him, face stony.

Link huffed. "It's okay. I wouldn't expect you to stop an entire freaking army of guardians. They look really creepy."

"You haven't faced one yet."

"Yeah, yeah, so I don't know how strong they are, whatever," Link said dismissively. "They still look freakishly strong."

"That's why I've told you stay away from Central Hyrule."

"Okay, but like, there were a million of them at the fort on the way here."

The Hero grew silent.

"Did... did Sir Abel fight them?" Link asked hesitantly. When he got no response, he sighed. "We'll figure it out, okay? I'll get the sword."

"Please," his friend suddenly said. "Don't... don't try to do this for me. I don't want you to do this for me."

"You want me to do it for Hyrule?"

"I want you to choose to do it."

"I already did," Link answered immediately. "I chose this. And I'll, uh... choose to maybe try some of the local food and go fishing before I get near that guy again."

His companion chuckled, a rare smile pulling at his lips. "I'll think of a way you can approach him in the meantime."

"Great! You think about it so I don't have to," Link chirped happily, hopping to his feet. "Maybe we can talk at dinner?"

"You know I can't maintain my form that long."

"Breakfast?"

His companion pointed outside the window, and Link slowly walked to it. This was another trial, wasn't it?

"Get the spirit orb from the shrine," the Hero instructed. "I'll meet you after that."

"Spirit orb. Got it." Link nodded, turning to smile only to find himself alone in the room. He felt a little cold and empty all of a sudden, sad and lonely, but he tried to shake it off. He wished his friend could just stay with him, but he guessed it took work being a spirit in a land of... not spirits.

Link looked back outside, catching sight of the knight he was supposed to talk to. The man was wandering by the inn, throwing a wary glance its way. The fisherman gulped.

Later. He'd deal with it later. It was time to relax for the day, and then defeat the shrine in the morning so he could talk to his companion.

They'd figure this out together, like they always did.

[figarosbackpack-blog]

And to bring forth this halloween holiday we have officially placed our one of a kind handmade wreath. Yes we gamers are crafty! Turn on those notifications, follow us on #pinterest and stay tuned as we will begin announcing some #handmade #halloween spectacular creations #halloween #wreath #oneofakind #handmade #crafts #lights #web #peonies #gothic #dark #victorian #enterifyoudare #skeletonkey #geeks #artisticgeeks #artisticgeekswithcats #catgeek #gamerswithcats #artisticgamers #artisticgamerswithcats #trickortreat #doorwreath #dingdong https://www.instagram.com/p/BoabaPel1PK/?utm_source=ig_tumblr_share&igshid=197c2pr3rmg9l

[artisticgaming]

Love the dreads!! WoW Shaman Troll :D http://artisticgaming.com/portfolio/world-of-warcraft-custom-troll/

[star-mania]

Controller WIP

Posted using PostyBirb

[star-mania]

Controller WIP

This is a small drawing of a controller I've got in the works.

Posted using PostyBirb

[skyloftian-nutcase]

botw Zora armour for the prompt?

(@wildsage00 @artisticgamer @luckybyrdrobyn)

Link wasn't sure what he had been expecting upon entering a divine beast for the first time, but it wasn't this.

Maybe he'd been expecting something akin to the shrines. Stale and warm at the same time, strange but familiar. He'd woken up in a shrine, it was the first imprint of the world that he had. As much as he loved the villages and the wilds, the shrines were somehow the most familiar things to him. That didn't necessarily make them homely, but... routine, perhaps, was a good word.

But he knew the divine beasts were cursed with the calamity's malice, he knew they'd be something to conquer rather than solve. So maybe he'd suspected a place filled with traps and danger, a place that felt terrifying or thrilling or unsafe.

Instead, it felt cold and haunting. Instead, it was damp and chilled not only his body but his soul. Instead, it made the armor he wore stick to him like skin, scales digging into his chest with a sharpness and pressure that stole his breath away.

Instead, it felt like a mausoleum.

He had barely stepped into the beast when he heard a voice whispering in his mind. It was eerily familiar, making his skin crawl and his heart beat harder and faster. An image of the statue came to mind, and his entire being screamed.

Mipha.

Hylia above. He heard Mipha.

He could see her in every corner of the beast, he could envision her pain and terror with every touch of malice that entered his sight. She'd smile around one corner, showing him what her divine beast could do, and then he'd turn another corner and find a piece of the calamity's horrors staring at him, startling him out of the memory and into action. Her voice cheered him on, guiding him through the beast, and he couldn't help but hope beyond all measure that somehow she was still alive, that this wasn't a spirit but just her using the beast to communicate with him while being held hostage, just as Zelda was doing from the castle.

His mind could barely remember her, but his heart ached for her nonetheless.

He wanted a piece of himself back. Zora's Domain had been the first true piece of his old self that had smacked him in the face. Everyone here knew him, knew him, knew the Hero of a hundred years ago, the person he was supposed to be.

And Mipha...

Link's hand rested over the centerpiece of his armor, over the scale Mipha had given to protect him. For a moment he could feel a smooth palm on his cheek, he could feel thin fingers caress through his hair, nails gently massaging his scalp. He shivered, hugging himself.

Please be alive. I'm coming, Mipha.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Final Hour (Linked Universe fanfic)

(@artisticgamer, @ludoluck sorry I keep forgetting to tag you guys for my writing)

Inspired by @kikker-oma's amazing Fierce Deity art. Love your talent and your creativity, Oma! <3

Summary: When everything goes horribly wrong, Time desperately attempts everything in his power to fix it. Wind instead chooses to be the self sacrificing Hero, but the end result isn't what Time expected it to be.

(AO3 link)

The clocktower tolled.

He saw her. He saw Zelda standing in front of him, sad and beautiful and aged beyond her years, just like him. He saw her morose smile, the tears threatening to spill from her eyes, her steady resolve despite it all. He saw her play the ocarina as she grew ever smaller and farther away while his hand reached out desperately for her.

The clocktower tolled.

He saw her. He saw Malon smiling sweetly at him, bright and beautiful and innocent, like how he used to be. He saw the freckles on her cheeks pull as she giggled and called him by that nickname she’d made up a lifetime ago. He saw her eyes grow fierce with a desire for adventure as she worked with an unruly mare. He saw her twirl as they danced together.

The clocktower tolled.

He saw them. He saw Anju and Kafei’s love and desperation and acceptance in their eyes as they held each other, as she said they’d greet the morning together while his hand held hers in a white knuckled grip. He saw them tremble as he turned and ran outside.

The clocktower tolled.

He saw them. He saw the Heroes of Hyrule, how they were all young, experienced, hurt, filled with power and hope and light. He saw how they emanated a strength that couldn’t be quantified, an inherent resolve and determination to their core that shone through and resonated between each and every one of them, a shared bond and unbreakable spirit. He saw their uniqueness, their wonder, their gifts and quirks.

And he saw them fall, one by one.

The clocktower tolled.

They’d been wounded. They’d been weak. They’d just fought multiple hordes and had been desperately trying to get to the nearest village. They’d known it hadn’t been far, from the forest they could hear the bells of a clocktower in a nearby town.

There had been a split in the path. Time had chosen the route.

The clocktower tolled.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. It couldn’t happen.

The black blooded dragon roared again, held at bay by the few still standing. He heard a scream, and a body collapse on the ground. He couldn’t even tell who was still standing anymore; he’d been one of the last to fall. Nearly everyone had stilled, no longer writhing in agony or sheer force of will.

Except for Wind.

The sailor groaned as he desperately crawled forward, reaching above Time, whose hand was overhead as he’d been grabbing desperately at one of his items when he fell, as he’d been willing to throw his life, sanity, everything away in a frantic attempt to fix this.

The wooden mask barely was within his grasp, propped by a finger.

Despite the severity of the situation, despite the cold silence of his companions, despite the clocktower ringing in his ears, a reminder of time after time of facing death and life and everything in between as his entire journey flashed before his eyes, he wanted to save Wind from this. The mask was too dangerous for anyone else. What good would such a victory do if the child was lost to the darkness?

“Please, Wind… no.”

He had other methods he could call on.

He had other items he could use.

The Hero of Time was nothing if not relentless. He never gave up. Never. Not even now, not even when he was bleeding to death, when the world around him blurred and dulled, when his mind was screaming and running into the past rather than focusing on the present. Not even now. He’d spent a lifetime perfecting three days over and over and over until he could get everything right and save everyone. He refused to let this be any different.

“You said…” Wind pleaded desperately, his voice trembling, tears and blood and phlegm rolling down his face from what little of it Time could see. With a hiccup, he continued, “You said it’s for emergencies, right? It’s okay, I’ll save you!”

I’ll save you. A last, desperate, pleading promise. The others couldn’t be saved, but Time was still here.

Time’s hands fumbled around his belt, desperately searching for the item he needed.

The clocktower tolled. The dragon roared again, any obstacle between it and the last pair of heroes long gone.

The mask slipped from Time’s finger, a rough disappearance as if it had been pulled.

“Sailor,” he tried again, his voice barely above a whisper, his world spinning and fading fast. He had to move.

Wind screamed.

The noise jolted Time out of his stupor, adrenaline feebly trying to awaken what little life essence he had left in him. He had enough energy to look up and see a figure towering over him where Wind originally had been crawling.

The monster bore Wind’s curls, bleached white. It bore Time’s armor, with a decorative fairy pendant dangling in the breeze as it stood stock still. Wind’s face was older, chiseled, once-chubby cheeks pulled taught over cheekbones that shouldn’t be so developed. Its eyes glowed, contrasting the purple and blue markings that cut across its face.

The Fierce Deity.

Time let out a desperate breath, unable to speak anymore, and watched helplessly as the cursed mask made Wind’s possessed body march across the field towards the dragon that awaited him. He couldn’t see the fight, but he could hear it. He heard the grunts, deeper than they should be, the fierce battle cries, the screeches from the dragon as its opponent landed cut after cut. He breathed hastily, feeling his heart quicken, feeling his body begin to grow numb, and he again searched desperately on his belt for the one thing that could change everything.

Warriors was gone. Sky was gone. Four was gone. Legend was gone. Hyrule was gone. Wild was gone.

Twilight was gone.

Time was going to be damned if he would let Wind fall in the worst way possible.

The clocktower tolled.

The dragon screamed, and the earth shook.

And then everything grew silent.

Time gasped for air, trying to raise his head, wanting to call for the young sailor, for the brightest ray of sunshine in the group, for the one last surviving member.

He couldn’t move.

So this is how I meet death? He wondered. On the verge of tears, an utter failure to all who depended on me?

He remembered the people of Termina. He remembered how they all faced death in their own ways. He thought of Cremia and Romani, of Anju and Kafei.

Goddesses. He missed Malon so desperately right now.

Heavy footsteps approached him, and he blinked, the world coming back into focus long enough for his body to scream that he couldn’t take any more of this. A blurry image hovered over him, and he squinted, confused, until his mind registered who he was staring at, and his hands finally found the item they’d been searching for.

The Fierce Deity knelt down slowly, eyes fixed on him. When his knees sank into the ground, he reached slowly, sliding a hand behind Time and pulling him into a seated position. Time cried out in pain with the motion, and the cursed deity paused only a moment before reaching his other hand towards the Hero of Time’s fumbling hands, pulling the ocarina from their grasp. Time tried to protest, tried to fight against his possessed successor’s hold, but he was too weak to do anything. Then amethyst rose into his periphery, and he looked down to see the Ocarina of Time hovering in front of his lips.

“Play, Link,” the Fierce Deity said, Wind’s higher voice pitched into a deeper timber and holding power and energy the boy didn’t usually possess. “Save them, as you always do.”

Time stared at the deity, his fears and thoughts stolen away. The pair was frozen for a moment, the world pausing around them, time itself holding its breath in anticipation. A gentleness fell over the cursed deity’s face, and Time felt the thumb behind his back caress him once, ever so softly. Understanding slid between the two, a heavy, bone deep realization that dug into Time’s mind more than he could fathom in the moment, a certainty and safety and assurance and comfort that he'd somehow always felt but always ignored. He let out a shaky exhale and, with trembling hands, took the ocarina from the Fierce Deity.

And he played.

The world turned white.

Time felt warmth engulf him, like an embrace from tender arms. Magic sparkled inside his mind and heart, a familiar friend, singing and resonating with his song like fairies humming together, a melody entwined in mystery and grace. His horizon shifted, and he was on his feet, set there gently as if floating through the air. The warmth spread from his core to his extremities, the numbness in his fingers dissipating, the stabbing pain of his own armor piercing his gut dulling into nothingness. The blood on him washed away with invisible waters, and an airless breeze blew the dirt off his body. He continued to play, the melody growing steadier as his strength returned, his determination steeling him, tightening his weakened muscles and bringing an assurance that he hadn’t felt since Termina.

Save them, as you always do.

Oh, the countless times he’d played this hymn, this spell, this prayer. Oh, the countless times he’d clung to it desperately as he tried again, the numerous times he’d played it in tears at his failure, the many times he’d nearly belted it in fortitude as he prepared with renewed hope and a plan in place.

Save them, Link.

“Really, old man? You’re playing your ocarina right now? We have wounded, we need to get moving.”

Time’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Legend’s voice.

They were all there, tired and hurt but alive. Sky was leaning against Hyrule, eyes half closed but body stiff with stubbornness, while Hyrule held him with a fierce protectiveness. Legend was watching him impatiently, scraped and bruised but relatively unharmed and clearly anxious to get help for the others. Four and Warriors were bringing up the rear, watching everyone’s backs and growing ever more confused by the turn of events. Wind hovered with some distress between Sky and Wild, who was the other most injured member of the group, though the champion was well looked after in Twilight’s hold as the rancher carried him on his back.

Twilight.

Time stared at him too long, meriting a worried expression from the rancher. “You alright?”

Blinking the oncoming tears away, the eldest Link took a deep breath and nodded. “Let’s keep going.”

“That’s what I said,” Legend grumbled, turning back towards the road ahead.

“Yeah, but which way?” Twilight asked, staring at the fork in the road.

The clocktower tolled.

Time pointed left.

“But I can hear the bells to the east of here,” Hyrule noted as he steadied Sky a little. “Shouldn’t we take the path on the right?”

“We’re taking this one,” Time said firmly, brooking no argument. The group followed him silently as he tried to reorient and move ahead like nothing had happened.

His hand slipped into his adventure pouch subconsciously as they walked, and the group started to talk amongst themselves, their voices the most beautiful things he’d ever heard. His heart rate began to normalize, and he closed his eyes, basking in the safety of seeing and hearing everyone alive again.

His fingers brushed against wood in his pouch, and they tingled with warm energy that climbed all the way up his arm, through his shoulder, and into his core. He took another steadying breath, clutching the mask tenderly as an entirely different set of emotions nearly knocked him to the ground, confusion and relief and hope and fear and curiosity above all else.

Another time. Today he tread ahead cautiously and protected his family.

Today he saved them, as he always would.