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leloudlizbirb ¡ 1 month ago
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A snipit of a long since unwritten chapter/idea from my fic
Zatana smiled softly at the sight before her. She was at the Watchtower, looking for an item she misplaced a day or two ago (and to check on John), when she stumbled on the most precious thing she had ever seen. On a bed in the medical wing layed John, fast asleep.
Zee couldn't help herself coo as she heard the softest purr from Danny. It didn't matter that he was technically an adult, it was adorable. And from the looks of it, he had his guard dropped almost completely. There was no stirring as she crept closer, no twitch or care of who entered or where he was. He was well and truly in a deep sleep. It hurt her heart a bit to think that this may be the best sleep he's had in a while. Something was definitely up.
Constantine began to stir a few minutes after Zee arrived. He blinked a few times and looked around in confusion, wondering who was on him. His face softened just a bit as he realized Danny hadn't moved. Then, he noticed Zatana, by then having taken a few photos of the two.
John grumbled a bit as Zee laughed quietly. After a few seconds of silently staring, he asked as quietly as he could, “How long have you been here?”
“Only a few minutes,” Zee replied softly as she looked through her photos and settled down next to the two, “What happened?”
John began moving the young man off him, who, despite still being asleep, immediately tried to fight to stay on him. John just gave up after a few tries, too tired to fight him. “Had a fight, some childhood trauma popped up while doing so,” Zatana could see how haunted John was, despite his best to stay as neutral as possible. She calmly and carefully moved closer to Danny. What got her a bit worried was what John said next. “He did something incredibly dangerous to himself to save my life.”
“Hm,” Zee hummed as she softly scratched Danny’s scalp. She brought her attention to John's wounds. “What happened to your attacker?”
“The bastard deserved what happened to him,” John said with a little hollow tone. He smiled just a bit. “In any case, it's over now. We won’t be seeing him anytime soon.” John’s eyes dropped. “But I found out why the kid was so secretive about his ‘other’ half. And you’re not gonna like it.”
“And that is?” Zee asked, carefully placing a silent spell.
He continued, clearly angry, “The US Government placed a law that says ghosts and liminals are non sentient or sapient and aren’t considered people. That law also put into place a branch specifically to hunt them down and study them. What makes it worse, his parents are the ones supplying and making the weapons to hunt them.”
“John,” Zee began.
John ignored her, beginning to vent, “I had some ideas of it, but that?!” His voice was beginning to raise. “Who in God's name would be so bold as to claim an entire species, older than the fibers of the universe -”
“John-” Zatana tried to interrupt calmly.
“-as non sentient or sapient! How do you prove something that is clearly wrong!”
“John-”
“Do you know what things they might be doing to the ghosts they had already caught? And the kid kept this to himself and didn’t tell us.”
“John Constantine!” Zatana yelled through gritted teeth. She was incredibly thankful for the privacy of a silent spell. As she yelled, Danny’s sleepful face twitched. He was mumbling something, clearly stirring, though still drifting in and out of sleep. “It’s okay darling,” Zee hummed sweetfully, scratching his scalp, “You’re safe.” Danny settled down again, drifting back into his slumber. She looked back at John. Constantine stopped and finally turned to the magician. She was giving him such a hard look.
After a brief stare off, Constantine’s eyes grew wide. “You knew.”
“Long before I even met Danny, in fact, but yes, I knew.” Zee said quietly, looking away. She sighed, “The law was placed when I was a girl, and I only knew about it because my father tried and failed to fight it. It was his mission to, if nothing else, protect the ghosts that can’t escape. And I do too.”
John held back a stutter. “Who else knows?”
“Dr. Fate came to me about a year ago about how much me and my father knew about it, and I’m pretty sure the Big Three know, but I’m pretty sure they’re keeping it on the down low until they figure out a way to repeal the law and organization,” Zee’s eyes looked at John softly. “I’m sorry I-”
“It’s fine. Really, I get it,” John sighed, clearly defeated. “I would have certainly made a fool of myself if you did tell me.” He looked at Danny sadly then back at her. “For now, I’ll try to keep my mouth shut about it. But if that fucking organization goes for you or the kid, I will raise hell and make them wish they were never born.”
“It’s only fair,” Zee said with a soft smile.
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fictionadventurer ¡ 7 months ago
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I love libraries.
I'm browsing the WWI shelves (as you do) and notice a very old book about the war. I glance at the first pages that talk about how one day the war will be over and we'll look at this place and not see any signs of the battlefield.
Then it hits me. And I check the publishing date.
This book was printed before the war's end. Not written. Printed. The physical object was created in 1918, while the war in question was raging and the end was as yet uncertain.
Now I'm standing on the other side of the apocalypse, with this physical link to that era in my hands. I'm living proof that the war did end and life did go on and we can all look at the end of the world as a long-ago memory.
Reading old books is cool enough, connecting our minds and hearts through the ideas of people who lived long ago, but there's something extra profound about holding a copy of the book that comes from the time that it was written. It's a physical link between the past and the present connecting me to those long-ago people. A piece of the past come into the future that gives me the chance to almost take the hand of some long-ago reader, to hold something they could have held, connecting not just mentally but physically to their era, a moment of connection across more than a century.
Excuse me while I go weep.
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keferon ¡ 2 months ago
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Hiiii! So I saw you mention SunnyBlue in that post you made about Blue and the twins and I wasn't sure if you were actually into that ship but if you are I would like to offer you my favorite fic of those two. It's Saturated Sunlight by @inkfamy It's honestly the greatest characterization of the two, and on top of it being a romantic fic of the two, it dives into Blue's ptsd and how he earned the title of the best sniper in the Autobots as well as the issues Sunny and Sides have and it's just so fascinating. Idk, it seemed like something you would enjoy based off of the other fics you like.
I absolutely adore your art and sorry if I'm bothering you 😅 Have a lovely day/evening
HOOO GOD YOU WERE RIGHT I ABSOLUTELY LOVED THIS FIC EHEHEHEHEEMHMHM
The characterisation of Blue?? And the twins?? Muah~ Absolutely wonderful. The emphasis on Blue being a really fucking good sniper is so interesting. Like I've never seen sniper programming being used in that way.
Despite being fairly short this fic still managed to make me love them so much ehehe I crave more now
Thank you for your recommendation🤍
Saturated sunlight
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sheerakk ¡ 1 year ago
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imclou ¡ 9 days ago
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can't believe fnaf brought me out of art hibernation man what a turn of events
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gomzdrawfr ¡ 4 months ago
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content warning: blood
Loyal to a fault
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bonus + other versions:
Bonus:
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the words on Ghost's body reads:
LOVE (level of violence)
it takes a monster to destroy a monster (poorly cropped i apologize)
Loyal Dog
Vēnor (Latin verb for hunt, chase)
this is something very different to what I usually do I hope yall don't mind....also this was me when I was sharing this with my friends...because priceghost/ghostprice dynamic really gets a grip on me
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shrugsinchinese ¡ 6 months ago
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A sketch and doodle page for Bat Swap by @im-not-buying-it-ether!
Billy is truly Going Through It in this one, and Bruce is getting called out by every significant Fawcitizen it’s hilarious
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faiell ¡ 7 months ago
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inspired by a scene from this heaven of mud by @garagepaperback
Sitting near but far, legs spilled off the edge of the bed, Potter turned to look at him. There were two wide windows on either side of the bed, drapes drawn back. The lights in Draco’s bedroom were off but it didn’t matter, the flat being in the city. Draco learned it was called light pollution- It meant you couldn’t see the stars. It meant it was much harder not to see what was right in front of you.
Potter looked beautiful. It should have ended months ago, preferably before it started.
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spindlewoed ¡ 2 years ago
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Look, listen. The smoker on the balcony is obsessed with beauty and the fine arts while Cindy the skull is a contemporary artist all about activism and I need them to interact so badly because they would have THEE most heated art debate of the century. Cindy would eat him alive but that's not the point their back and forth would be legendary you don't even know. Lesbian on gay man violence.
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otome-dissection ¡ 1 month ago
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Idk man I just think that mizu/ena5 and its progression was really beautiful actually. I just think that the release of the ena5 song was also really beautiful and kind of the nail in the coffin for me and I haven't been able to get the event(s) out of my head all week and that I kind of want to talk about it, actually.
It's about being hurt so deeply and continuously that any kindness that could be offered to you manages to feel like a sin, that it makes you crumble and shatter but for all the wrong reasons, not because of the newfound safety, not out of relief, but something worse and more deeply ingrained in you than kindness ever was. It's about carefully measuring the distance at which you keep others away from yourself, to ensure that it never happens again ("To save yourself the trouble", if that makes it easier).
It's about realizing that the people you've been spending all this time with are drifting closer, that they just might bump up against the unsightly parts of yourself that you've tried to keep locked away, it's about turning around and sprinting at full speed and slamming the door shut and holding onto the handle behind you to stop it from turning, because you're as frightened of the possibility of another wound being inflicted on you as you are of the possibility that kinder, gentler hands will reach out and smooth over the exposed scar. It's about hating eyes that judge and silently condemn you as much as you hate eyes that simply see you and take all of you in without scrutiny, because no matter what they're looking and they're looking at you and they know that your hand's on that door handle and they know that you're hiding something because, as much as you try to keep it shut, they've seen through the crack that you foolishly left open.
(The prominence of eyes in Bake no Hana, specifically eyes looking and searching, and finally landing on you, the viewer, Mizuki, is so fucking. Visceral in my opinion. Every character in the MV stares at the viewer in a deadpan, almost judging way. Even though Mizuki knows deep down that niigo won't really hate them, won't judge them, she just can't stand their kindness either; any gaze directed at her is a loss, another prick in their skin. It screams "don't look at me" while making sure that you know, with horrific certainty, that they're looking for you, that you're being watched. You can't go outside, can't leave your room, because they're searching for you, and while that should be reassuring, to you it's anything but).
It's about not wanting to be dissected, whether it's with hands that want to pull your organs apart or stitch them back together because no matter what they're there, and they're getting frighteningly close to your heart. It's about blinding yourself and covering your eyes to it all because seeing means exposure and exposure means they're taking something from you and you can't do anything about it, much less take it all back, much less have a say in the matter. Everyone's just taking and taking and taking and you wish you could just be alone. You wish everyone would just disappear and you could live in a world all to yourself, for only yourself (but is that really what you want?).
It's about the way that, near the beginning of the Yoka ni Mitoreta MV, Mizuki and her loneliness is represented as a dark, splotchy stain in the shadows. No colors, no patterns, no way to clean it or wash it all away, just raw ugliness marring a blank canvas. It's about the way that Ena reaches out to it anyway, the way she startles when the glass shatters just when she finally starts reaching forward, the way that the rest of the MV/song represents her searching for and reaching only further out to Mizuki, even if the broken shards of glass will only cut her fingers, potentially leaving scars.
It's about how, in every way, subtly, directly, consciously, and subconsciously, Ena shows that she fucking cares.
It's about the way that Ena lets Mizuki have autonomy, despite the situation being so horribly out of their control. And it's such a delicate thing: If she really wants to, Mizuki can take the opportunity to just run away, keep running forever, repeat the cycle over and over, and maybe she'll just destroy herself with it again, but it can't be denied that it's something important to them, something she can't quite live without just yet, their means of survival. Mizuki's autonomy is their identity, it's her tailoring her own clothes and choosing her own ribbons and styling her own hair the way she does. Ena letting them have that is as much about trust as it is about understanding that Mizuki of all people should have this right, when control was something stripped from her throughout so much of her life. She couldn't control how she was born, how people look at her or why, can't control what they think of her; lacking control has only left Mizuki vulnerable to the cruelties of others, has only caused them to suffer, which is why it's so important that it's given to them now.
She had the control to make the choice to see niigo's welcoming love and run away instead of staying, and she has the control to make the choice now whether she wants to keep things the way they are or take a step forward to be at their side again. She has every right to have it, and I think the fact that Ena realizes and respects that, even if it's subconsciously, is really beautiful (there is an entire fucking Verse about this in the new song and just. God Look at this. It's so caring, unconditional, and for fucking What. I think there is something to be said about how much Ena is willing to put aside for Mizuki, and maybe deep down it isn't healthy, but for now I'm just kind of in awe)
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It's about how insanely patient Ena has been this whole time. Mizuki says that she basically lied to Ena's face about telling her their secret, even after Ena said with such conviction that she would wait for Mizuki as long as it takes, and Ena is just kept waiting and waiting and worrying like this seemingly indefinitely. It's about how Mizuki danced around it, avoided it, kept the distance, straight up ran when she was finally pushed, but Ena still chased anyway when she saw that she couldn't wait anymore, kept chasing just enough to intervene and get a straight answer out of Mizuki when she really needed to, but still leaving her enough space to leave if that was truly what she wanted. It's about how relieved Ena is the moment that Mizuki finally says outright how much they want to be with her and niigo, how much she wants to try, how much more light Ena's voice sounds when she grabs her hand, relieved, the way that the relief she feels can be felt through the music, throughout the entirety of Yoka ni Mitoreta, the way that warm colors always follow her when she chases after Mizuki, just to hold onto her and stop her from running away completely.
It's about how that careful combination of Ena's directness, Ena's persistence, Ena's warmth, her patience, her bluntness about her feelings, the way she chases and holds on but not too tight and her regard for how unsafe and exposed Mizuki feels actually works and breaks it all down. It's about how she really did reach through to Mizuki, despite the thorns and broken glass shards and nearly-unfulfilled promises, the way that Mizuki did finally let her turn the door handle and step through to see what she'd been hiding all this time, the way that Mizuki's hand, limp, when Ena first grabs onto it, shifts to hold hers back as they cry in the face of Ena's gentleness.
Despite how harsh Mizu/Ena5, and even Ena herself as a character can be (or at least was in the very beginning of pjsk), everything is somehow gentle and warm in the end, blindingly so. And you know what, I think that's beautiful. And what's even more beautiful than that is how Mizuki allows themself to crumble and shatter under that kindness, that warm light, but this time, finally, out of relief.
On a final note, I just want to say that I also appreciate how all that didn't have to solve everything. The scars haven't disappeared, haven't gone away, and Mizuki knows that their desire to run hasn't gone away forever, and maybe it never truly will. But for now they've calmed it, at least a little. She's learning to allow herself to be seen, learning that when someone's fingertips brush over their scars the way Ena's did that it's only out of care, and that maybe taking in that care and allowing herself to feel kindness and safety is okay. They're safe, for now, somehow. They're learning. They're trying. And I think that's cool :)
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courfee ¡ 9 months ago
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“Regulus would be proud of us,” James whispered quietly to no one in particular, still gripping onto the painting like a life raft. 
— Tender Curiosities, Baby!  @otrtbs
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jackshiccup ¡ 1 year ago
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if i could hold you for a minute darling, i'd go through it again
inspired by chapter 42 of OTNWAS by @jjackfrost
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hballegro ¡ 6 months ago
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"It's more than something. It's everything."
s8e11 "Life Time"
painted screenshot. cannot give a time estimate, i lost track long ago. still gouache brush, my beloved, with blur tools to fade edges and so on
i have to go to the zoo now and will be making the version with the clock later [i cannot express how long ive been battling with hawkeye's face, gamers]. background went very fast like i said it would lol
version 2 [as in, w/ clock] will probably be done later today, and i will edit this and add it when that happens [and prolly make a separate post too, for celebration purposes, and will link them]. i will also compile progress pics for that post. they are terrifying early on lmao
"A lot of very touching songs came outta that war" previous painting
"It was pink, and perfect, and I tossed it in the scrap bucket" previous painting
everyone say thank you to bj to being a perfect painting subject today he was very polite and he looks about how i wanted unlike SOME PEOPLE
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that was me to my sibling last night, and i stayed up til 1:10ish and still didnt finish the final pass over hawkeye's eye. everything else took like 5ish minutes
also everyone say thank you to margaret and nurse kellye for also being perfect and lovely and pleasant to work with
photo used blatantly stolen from this post thank you again @remyfire i owe you my life
update edit;
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clock back
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skyward-floored ¡ 3 months ago
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Whumptober Day 11: seeing double
Totally not what this prompt meant, but I don’t care lol. I do care that I keep making Wild cry though, sorry buddy 😬
No clue if anyone cares anymore, but this has some brief age of calamity spoilers in it. Just a heads up.
Warnings: broken bone, discussed past character death
Ao3 link
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Wild had two thoughts as he went plunging through the portal, the others’ frantic cries in his ears:
One, that hopefully Legend wouldn’t give him too smug of an ‘I told you so’ the next time he saw him, since Wild had entirely forgone his advice to stay away from Dark Link and was now plunging rapidly through the air. And two, well, at least I’m going to fall into the water down there.
Which he promptly did with an explosive splash.
It wasn’t so high up that he was badly hurt, but Wild was still thrown for a loop, and found himself crashing down a river with little sense of which way was up.
Water got in his mouth and he spluttered, trying to spit it out and also get his head above the surface so he could breathe. The current was fast here though, and Wild couldn’t do much except flail around like a drunk Zora.
Wait, could Zora get drunk?
He actually had no clue.
The current got suddenly faster, and Wild breathed in some water as he got smacked against the rocks, coughing and hacking as he struggled to get any air. He managed a wet gasp when his head briefly poked up, but then he was pulled under again.
Air wasn’t the only thing Wild had gotten when he went up though— he’d also gotten a sight of the river up ahead. And at the sight of the waterfall rapidly approaching, his struggles grew even more frantic.
I need to reach shore, he thought as he continued to cough and claw his way to the river’s edge in a panic. I need to reach shore now, I need air I need—
The angle of the water shifted, and Wild was shot out of the waterfall, the rapid change in direction making his head spin.
He found himself in open air, water still in his lungs, and he clumsily grabbed for his paraglider as the lake below rapidly approached. Wild managed to snap it open just in time, but he didn’t manage a good grip on the handle.
His arm slipped, and Wild slammed into the sand near the shore, a choked yell escaping him as pain blazed up his shoulder.
All he could do was cough up water for a minute and catch his breath, trying not to wrench his shoulder more. Something was broken in there; he wasn’t sure if it was his shoulder itself or his arm or collarbone, but it hurt. He could barely move without his whole arm lighting up in agony, and hoped blearily that none of the others had suffered the same fate as him.
Then he heard a splash behind him, and his stomach sank.
Had one of the others fallen in the portal already? Or was it something else? That hadn’t sounded big enough to be a splash from something falling from the waterfall, but then again, he could be wrong.
“There, look!”
The voice sounded familiar, but Wild couldn’t place it over the sound of the water behind him and the blood rushing in his ears. He tried to raise himself up, and pain tore across his senses, and for a minute all he could focus on was the fire ripping through his shoulder.
“—know who he is? He looks just like—”
“—in the water, don’t—”
Two voices floated around his head as the fire eased, and Wild took a deep breath, opening his eyes again. His hair had fallen in his face, and between that and his blurry vision he couldn’t see much, especially through the damp strands. Unless he moved again, but that seemed like a bad idea.
Wild groaned, blinking to try and get the hair away from his eyes, but he barely succeeded. His wet hair slipped to the side, but all he could make out were two blobs, silhouetted by the sun shining behind them.
Then he heard a soft gasp, and the sound of a weapon being drawn.
“How is this—”
“This has trap written all over it,” a different voice than the first interrupted, soft, but sharp. Cold steel nudged Wild’s chin, and he stiffened. “Don’t go near him.”
The other voice made a worried noise as Wild weakly coughed. “I don’t think he would have fallen down a waterfall on purpose and hurt himself like this if that were true.”
“It could still be a trick.”
“I know... but we won’t get any answers if he’s too dazed to speak.”
Wild heard a huff, then the sound of footsteps padding towards him in a familiar way. A hand settled over his shoulder, and Wild groaned again, a soothing noise coming from the voice.
“Hold on just a moment.”
Then a feeling like that of a gentle stream swept over his shoulder, quiet and small, but carrying the mighty power of water along with it. Wild automatically relaxed, sinking into the bubbly feeling. A blue light flickered in his vision, healing his shoulder in a familiar way, and Wild relaxed even further before he abruptly stiffened again.
Wait...
The smooth magic trickled into his middle, down to where his lungs were still burning from the water he’d inhaled. It soothed the ache, and though Wild still felt exhausted, he could tell his shoulder had been completely fixed as well. Even the various scrapes and bruises from the fight before the river had been healed.
Which meant...
The bubbly rush of magic faded away, Wild’s vision fully cleared, and his stomach dropped out.
Red scales. Yellow eyes. A petite figure covered in scales that were smooth and shiny in the sunlight, and healing magic that was fading from slender hands.
“M... Mipha?” Wild choked out.
The Zora woman (it couldn’t be Mipha, it couldn’t—) gave him a concerned look, but before Wild could do or say anything further, the steel was back at his neck.
Wild stilled, and followed the blade resting at his neck up to the person holding it. His already fast heartbeat tripled, and he choked for a second time.
The person holding a blade at his throat was himself.
His double’s hair was much shorter, pulled back into a neat ponytail, and instead of the champion’s tunic he was wearing the Zora armor Wild had received. His eyes were steely as he watched Wild, but the most shocking thing about him was the fact that the right side of his face was entirely smooth.
He didn’t have a single one of the scars that had killed Wild.
I’m unconscious. I’m dreaming. I hit my head on a rock and I’m hallucinating—
“Explain yourself. Who are you?” his double demanded, not appearing to notice how Wild’s world was caving in on itself. Wild stared, and coughed once, still feeling tired from his fight with the river, and just... unable to process this. What could he even say?
What was going on?
“I asked you a question, who are you? What are you doing in Zora’s Domain?” his double repeated, voice even sharper.
Mipha sucked in a worried breath as she stared at Wild, and touched the double’s arm. “Oh no, did... did a little guardian bring you?” she asked, and Wild stared at her, her words jumbling in his head as he stared.
Mipha.
Mipha.
Mipha was alive here. Wild was alive here, and missing his scars, and wearing the Zora armor that Mipha had crafted to give to him as a—
“Wh... who are you?” Wild whispered, throat suddenly dry as bone. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe it was just a mistake, a strange coincidence, but he— he had to know. He had to know.
“We asked you first,” Link’s double replied suspiciously, and Mipha set a hand on his shoulder.
“Link, he was just injured and half-drowned, I believe he’s confused. If he were here to kill us, he already would have tried,” she said pointedly, studying Wild with an intent look. “I think he looks too much like you to be a coincidence.”
“It could still be a trick. A Yiga or something,” his double said suspiciously. Wild didn’t blame him. That did sound like something the Yiga would do.
“But why add the scars and long hair?” Mipha countered, and the double looked frustrated.
“To confuse us, I’m sure there’s a motive. He’s probably here for you, you know you’re—”
“If you say “at risk” again Link, I will set Sidon on you,” Mipha said with a little huff, and turned back towards Wild with a kind-if-cautious look. “My apologies. I am Princess Mipha of the Zora, and this is my husband, Link.”
The words were like a slap, even though Wild knew they were coming.
Husband. Mipha. Zora armor.
Husband.
Link.
Wild would have fallen over backwards if he’d been upright in any way, and he stared between Mipha and his double, wondering if he was about to be sick.
They all knew the portals were transporting them through time. Wild had been a part of Time and Wind’s discussion on fractured timelines, and they all knew that there were splits and sections where the history of Hyrule didn’t make sense.
But this...
Was this a timeline where Wild hadn’t failed?
Mipha’s face grew more worried the longer Wild stared at them without speaking, and even his double started to look a little concerned.
“Did I miss an injury?” Mipha asked, scooting closer again, and Wild froze as she approached.
“No, no you got— you got everything,” Wild choked out. He felt perfectly healthy apart from being tired and his falling-apart mental state, just like if he’d used Mipha’s grace. Even though he hadn’t used it in nearly a year because the champions were finally at rest and they’d passed on and Mipha—
Wild lurched to his feet, using a rock for support, and immediately the other Link’s blade was raised again.
“Stay where you are,” he said sharply, and Wild stumbled backwards towards the water. His double’s face grew fierce and he leapt around him and blocked him off from the river. “I said stay where you are! We’ve told you who we are, now tell us your identity or I will treat you as a threat.”
Wild stilled, and swallowed. He might as well explain.
“I’m... well, Link,” he began, and the other Link didn’t move. “You... probably figured that out. I... I don’t know how I got here— I mean, I do, but it wasn’t on purpose, I-I... I don’t know what you mean about a guardian, but one didn’t bring me here.”
Wild looked at Mipha again, and swallowed thickly, his eyes stinging.
“This isn’t a trap. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m not here to hurt you,” he croaked, and the other Link pulled his sword back just a hair. “I— my companions and I are traveling through time, but... I think something went wrong,” he finished in a whisper.
We’ve never had anything like this happen with the portals before.
Did the Shadow do this?
“Time travel...” Mipha said thoughtfully, and exchanged a loaded look with the other Link.
His face had creased further, but in a different way, and he finally pulled the sword away from Wild’s neck. He kept it at the ready though, and watched Wild intensely.
“How did you get here?” he asked again, a little less accusatory and a little more curious.
Wild exhaled. “It’s a long story... but it was through a portal,” he said, deciding he would just... ignore what was going on for now. It was that or completely freak out, and he wanted to know more before passing out due to shock. “My group is hunting a Shadow, one ripping holes in time. We’re trying to stop him.”
“So no Terrako then?” Link questioned, and Wild shook his head in confusion.
“No? No... Terrako. Just portals that sometimes spew powerful monsters.”
Link and Mipha both stiffened.
“These monsters, do they have darkened blood?” Mipha asked, and Wild nodded. “Oh my. We’ve seen some up in the highlands, remember that moblin, Link?”
Link grimaced. “Yes. What a disaster. We assumed it was just leftover magic from Astor or something of that nature, not... time travel related. Bazz is still recovering.” He paused for a second, then his eyes went wide and he whipped his head back towards Link. “You said you came through a portal that expels these monsters?”
“Yeah, from upriver somewhere,” Wild nodded. “But it’s not sending out monsters right now. I fell through it, then fell right in the river.”
Link frowned. “So no monsters were coming out when you went through?”
“No, they were all on the other side, my group was fighting their leader. But I don’t know—”
“Papa?”
Link froze, and Mipha looked worried as Wild turned around towards where the voice had come from.
A young, orangey colored Zora was poking his head up from the water, and he looked between Wild and Link, a wide look on his face.
“Papa?” he repeated in a curious voice, and Wild stared, studying the little Zora’s features.
“Stay in the water, Ty,” Link said seriously, and the Zora hesitated, eyes darting between Mipha and Link and Wild. Then he hopped out and scurried over to stand next to Mipha. He hid behind her leg and watched Wild with large blue eyes, and Wild began to shake, recognizing them as his own.
Oh Hylia, haven’t you put me through enough?
Mipha put a hand on Ty’s arm, and he continued to watch Wild, his expression concerned as he studied his face.
“Papa... hurt?” he said worriedly, and Link shifted around so he was standing beside him, and placed a hand on his head.
“No, I’m not hurt,” Link reassured, and Ty switched to clinging to his leg instead, still staring at Wild. His orange scales shone brightly in the sunshine, like the last rays of light before the sun set.
“Wh... who is...?” Wild choked out, and Mipha gave him a look that was as conflicted as he felt.
“This is our son. Tyde,” she explained gently, like she knew the words would hurt.
They did, hitting Wild like a laser, and he felt a mixture of longing and wonder and grief so intense he was nearly sick.
Tyde was small, and as he shifted around the other Link’s leg, Wild saw that his left arm was shorter than it should be, the fins the wrong size. He had Wild— Link’s eyes, and his frame was proportioned more like a Hylian, but he had golden-orange and white scales all along his body, and had the Zora tail on the back of his head.
All in all, he was exactly what Wild would expect a child of his and Mipha’s to look like.
A tear fell down Wild’s cheek without his permission, and he sank back down to his knees, overwhelmed. He was married here. He had a child here.
This was what would have happened if he hadn’t failed?
This was how much Mipha had loved him?
Wild began to shake, and barely even noticed as Mipha approached and knelt beside him, so lost was he in his own mind.
“You’re from the world the older Sidon came from, aren’t you,” Mipha said quietly, and Wild shakily raised his head to look at her. “I... doubt he remembered in order to tell you. Zelda theorized they all wouldn’t recall anything from their time here.”
Wild gave a small shake of his head, and Mipha sighed.
“It’s complicated I’m afraid, but we’ve dealt with time travel before,” she explained. “And me and Sidon, we... we talked a little, about things. He said that in his time the champions were slain, and that you nearly were along with us. But you were placed in a sleep for one hundred years in order to heal, and then you saved the princess.”
Wild nodded mutely, and Mipha’s face turned further grieved. She carefully reached forward, and Link couldn’t help his flinch as her cool palm rested on his cheek, right over his scars.
The other Link behind Mipha had gone white, his sword finally lowered. Tyde tugged at his pant leg, and Link wordlessly picked him up, holding him tightly to his chest as he locked gazes with Wild.
Wild could only imagine what was going through his head.
Mipha wiped the tear off Wild’s cheek then withdrew her hand, giving him the same smile that he barely remembered from a hundred years ago. It almost made Wild fully break down, but he choked back his tears. He didn’t want her to feel like she had to comfort him.
“I’ll h-have to hear about this adventure Sidon had,” he said, managing not to make his voice sound too watery. “Sounds like it w-was something.”
“It was,” Mipha said quietly. “He always spoke so highly of you.”
She looked like she wanted to say more, but Wild’s double spoke up then, Tyde still nestled up to his chest.
“In your world, we... lost?” he asked in a quiet voice, and Wild swallowed thickly.
“We... did. I failed,” he whispered, not looking at Mipha. “The champions... our weapons turned against us. Overwhelmed us. I only survived because of a Sheikah invention that took a hundred years to work so I could fix my failure. So many died...”
He took in a shuddering breath, and looked at Mipha and his double again, their child still watching him intently.
“But you won here. You did it, you won—”
Wild’s voice choked off, and he barely noticed Tyde tug on his father’s sleeve, trying to get his attention. He did notice when Tyde pointed at Wild though, his brow scrunched up.
“Hurt,” he said with another tug, and for some reason that one small word made Wild lose the rest of his composure.
Suddenly it was too much, the sight of himself holding his and Mipha’s child, Mipha herself sitting beside him, her hand on her husband’s arm. It was a family Wild never had, never would have, and the fact that there was a timeline somewhere where Wild hadn’t failed them, where they had the opportunity to exist, it was just—
A small sob escaped him, and he pulled back, his shaking starting up again. Before he could bolt though, Tyde suddenly squirmed out of his father’s arms and padded over to Wild. Wild froze as he put a tiny hand on his arm, and when Wild looked down at him, he ran his hand up and down for a moment before nodding.
“Better,” he declared, then scampered back to Wild’s double.
Wild could only stare, tears dripping down his cheeks as Tyde climbed back into his father’s arms.
“He’s seen me heal before, he thinks he can too,” Mipha explained with a faint smile. “He does that whenever anyone cries, he thinks they’re hurt.”
A thick laugh burst from Wild’s throat, and he smiled shakily through the tears only running faster down his face. Tyde kept watching him, and Link swallowed back the gigantic lump in his throat in order to speak.
“Thanks,” he managed through his tears, and Tyde gave him a shy smile before hiding his face in Link’s chest.
Wild breathed out shakily, shuddering with a sob he tried not to let escape, and Mipha and his double stayed quiet as they let him cry, Tyde quietly watching them all. Mipha put her hand on his arm at one point, and Wild only cried harder, wishing he could remember her more, wishing she hadn’t died, wishing he didn’t even know what.
He merely cried, and Mipha let him, a different version of himself watching in pale-faced silence.
That was where Wolfie found them barely a quarter hour later, Wild’s eyes red as he quietly explained more about the infected monsters, Mipha and his double asking worried questions about what was going on, Tyde resting against his knee.
And nine Links became ten.
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storgicdealer ¡ 7 months ago
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again & again
quote from @siren-nate !
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flowerakatsuka ¡ 3 months ago
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" just know that i'm always here for you, okay? "
i'm finally finishing up my s2 rewatch and getting to the 24th episode awoke a beast in me. so i wanted to make a fake screenshot based on some of their lore that takes place during that episode. i think they'd end up having a heart-to-heart moment since kuroba went through similar struggles after their grandfather's own hospitalization...
also have a bonus doodle bc i need to even out the balance between serious & goofy with these two.
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