#but yeah here ya go

[applestruda]

is there any way to get like a ,,,, combo of those individual hg and cg pictures im so sad i have to choose between them for my banner *explodes*

Here's them combined

[jadewritesficshere]

Thinking about Eddie Munson who was complaining to the rest of the band about his shoulders and neck hurting post show. One of them convinces him to go for a massage.

Eddie shows up day of and is told to strip to level of comfort and get under the sheets laying on his back, his masseuse will knock before coming in. Eddie has not an ounce of care or shame, strips completely naked. Scars and tattoos on full display. He climbs between the sheets and waits. After knocking and hearing a "come in", his masseuse enters and-

The most handsome man he's ever seen walks in. A bit of stubble on his defined jaw, soft pale lips Eddie wants to kiss, big brown eyes Eddie wants to get lost in, slutty little waist and an ass Eddie could-

He introduces himself as Steve. Verifies where Eddie had said his tension was on the form he hastily filled out. Then it starts.

And maybe, maybe, Eddie is a bit touch starved. He could have anyone he wants, but they don't want him just his fame. Pushes them all away. Only gets close to his band, but they all are busy and have their own people outside of work.

And Steve is just touching him. Rubbing smooth circles into his temple, down his cheekbones towards his jaw. Pressing on parts of Eddie's face he didn't even realize were tense. It's relaxing.

And Eddie regrets not leaving at least his boxers on to help hide that he's becoming hard. Kind of embarrassing, which makes his dick harder- which, that's a lot to unpack right now-

"Hey, relax man," Steve says, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. Eddie can see Steve's eyes dart towards the obvious situation," It's natural. Happens to the best of us." "Does it happen to you?" Eddie blurts out. Eddie wants to shove his face in one of these soft plush pillows and scream, but Steve just snorts a laugh and shakes his head at him. Doesn't even respond as he continues the massage.

Eddie tries to hold back his groans as Steve turns his head to the side and rubs his neck into his shoulders. He can feel the tension leave his body slowly. Feel the knots in his muscles release.

Eddie can't, however, hold back the noise he makes when Steve grabs a hold of his hair and tugs it. Eddie's eyes pop open and he stares into Steve's face, who has started blushing. Steve just clears his throat and let's Eddie's hair go before continuing the massage.

[cheatsylu]

I saw your request thing at the bottom of your Hyrule and Wild drawing! Could you also draw Wars and Twilight being silly? I feel like they should get the chance to be idiots together

Who supplied them with the famous xxx beverage? I want a word with you

[claiborneart]

How is Your Refrigerator Running?

option a: regular human legs

option b: whole bunch of mechanical spider legs

option c: it looks like a regular, normal refrigerator, but you can hear the sound of running as it approaches you

[gods-perfect-idiots]

damn this hyperfixation got HANDS (and claws and fangs to boot)

[pixiecaps]

etoiles spoke about the qsmp briefly and these is what the translator said 🫶

edit: when he said “arc 0.5” he meant zero enemies arc

[unclewaynemunson]

Thanks to a conversation I had with @frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe and @stevesbipanic about this post by @piratefishmama about Scott Clarke helping middle schoolers with sexuality crises I wrote a lil something :)

Scott Clarke has been worrying about Eddie Munson ever since the boy first set foot into his classroom. He was tiny for his age and thin on the verge of being scrawny, with big, scared eyes in a pale face. With his long, dark curls he was the kind of boy who would unavoidably be called names for being too much like a girl, and Scott wasn't surprised that it only took one week before the boy came in with his hair all buzzed off, pulling even more attention to his expressive eyes instead.

Scott was known for worrying about the nerdy kids, and even though it wouldn't be obvious to everyone right away, he immediately noticed that Eddie was one of those. He wasn't the kind of nerdy kid who would sit in the front of the classroom, hanging onto Scott's every word while avidly scribbling down the secrets of the universe that Scott liked to share. No, Eddie was the other kind of nerdy kid: the kind who would often be called dreamy, or imaginative, or quiet, or lazy. The kind who would retreat to the back of the class and get low scores on their tests because they were spending their time sneakily reading comic books underneath the table or staring out of the window with their mind completely elsewhere for hours on end.

Middle school wasn't an easy place for kids like Eddie, as Scott knew all too well. The only thing he could do, as a teacher, was try to make it a little bit more bearable for him. He was glad when the boy took him up on his offer to spend his lunch breaks in the science classroom instead of the cafeteria or the playground. Soon, it became a habit that Eddie would be on the other side of Scott's desk reading his way through some big book while Scott was grading papers or preparing his next lesson.

Scott knew that with patience and kindness, all kids like Eddie would eventually come out of their shell and start trusting him. So he asked about the books Eddie brought first, proceeded to topics like music and games he liked to play later, and eventually could ask him about his home life.

Whenever he'd talk about his books or his music, Eddie's eyes lit up and his smile widened. Scott soon found out that, when Eddie was at ease, he could talk a mile a minute and bounce around the classroom, caught up in his stories with all kinds of excited hand gestures. At those moments, he was nothing like the quiet boy with the haunted look in his eyes who Scott met two months ago.

But Eddie never disclosed much about his personal life. He didn't mention his mother even once and he didn't tell Scott much more than that he was living with his uncle in Forest Hills because his dad was “unavailable” to take care of him.

Scott doubted whether Eddie was much better off living with his uncle than with his father. Judging from the meager lunches he brought with him, the shabby and ill-fitting clothes he wore, and the fact that the man never once came to drop Eddie off or pick him up at school, Scott was skeptical, to say the least.

He started worrying even more when one day, Eddie lingered in the classroom after the last lesson of the day, saying he wanted to ask him a “science question” with a certain dread in his eyes that Scott had never seen there before.

“There's nothing I love more than a good science question,” Scott quickly reassured him. “Tell me, what is it?”

“The other kids,” said Eddie, “Brendon and Mark and, you know... They call me names.” His voice was soft and his eyes were aimed towards the ground as he spoke. “Queer. And fag. And...” He shrugged. “Y'know.” He raised his head up again, big scared eyes meeting Scott's.

“I – I think they're right,” he said, almost in a whisper. “How can you stop being gay?”

And oh, this was a conversation Scott had experience with. He had been a teacher at Hawkins Middle School for almost two decades and there had always been kids he worried about, who would open up to him about this exact topic.

So he sat Eddie down at his desk and patiently talked him through everything the boy needed to know; God knows his trailer park uncle most certainly wouldn't. He told him all about science and nature and feelings and, most importantly, being perfect the way you are, no matter who you love.

More than two hours later, Eddie finally left the classroom with relief in his eyes instead of dread. But Scott kept worrying: Eddie's uncle hadn't so much as called the school to inform where Eddie was. Who was looking out for him after the last school bell rang and the kid rode his bike out of Scott's sight?

Not long after that conversation, Scott finally got to meet Mr. Munson for the first time. He was one of Scott's last appointments of the yearly parent-teacher evening, and Scott half expected him not to show up. But he was right on time, even though he looked almost comically out of place when he walked into the science classroom.

He was exactly what Scott would've imagined of a man living in Forest Hills: washed-up jeans and a worn-down flannel, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth, and a gruff frown hidden underneath a faded gray trucker's hat. He walked up to where Scott was seated behind his desk in a few big strides, and Scott couldn't help but think that there was something almost intimidating in merely the way he carried himself. Not exactly the kind of man who radiated safety for a boy like Eddie.

They shook hands and Scott felt rough callouses press against his own chalk-stained fingers.

While Scott talked Mr. Munson through Eddie's grade list – a list that at this point was barely enough to get him into the next grade – Mr. Munson didn't say anything. Only when Scott asked him if he had any questions, he opened his mouth.

“How're the other kids treatin' him?” the man asked him in a thick southern accent.

“It's not easy for him,” Scott answered in all honesty. He wondered how much Eddie told his uncle about what his days at school usually looked like.

Mr. Munson bowed his head. “I know,” he mumbled.

“Eddie is a sensitive kid, he –”

“I know what kinda kid he is,” Mr. Munson interrupted him immediately. It sounded sharp and Scott wondered if he should be worried about Mr. Munson having a temper.

“Of course,” he cautiously retreated. “I just assumed, since I've never seen you at the school before, sir, that you might not be aware of what exactly he has to deal with in here.”

“Maybe you should do less assuming, then,” Mr. Munson answered bluntly. “You think I should be at the school more? Drop Eddie here in the mornin', come pick him up in the afternoon, all that?”

Scott wondered if Mr. Munson was mocking him.

“Well, I think it might be good for Eddie if –”

“You know why I ain't never at the school? 'Cause I'm tryin' my damned best to keep that boy's stomach filled. When should I be at the school, exactly, between my day shift at the quarry and my night shift at the plant?”

“I – I'm sorry,” Scott backpedaled. Suddenly, the frown lines in the tired face of the man in front of him had gotten a different meaning. “I didn't know. You're right, I shouldn't have made assumptions.”

“Look, I dunno how much he shared with you, Mr. Clarke, but I know he looks up to you. So I think you should know that he's the kinda kid who got in trouble at home for bein' “too sensitive.”” He shot Scott a meaningful glance. “Boy was cryin' to me on the phone, 'cause of what his daddy did to him, so I picked him up and drove him here and I made it my mission, as his uncle, to protect him, to shield him, and to take care of him as best as I possibly can.”

Scott had always prided himself on being a good judge of character. He wondered if he had ever been more wrong about somebody before in his life.

“I know he thinks highly of you, Sir,” Mr. Munson continued. “And I'm very grateful that you're keepin' an eye on him when I can't. But at some point, he may trust you with some very personal information about himself, and you better have his back when he does.”

He knows, Scott realized with a shock. He tried to give Mr. Munson a reassuring smile, but his heart was beating in his throat with what he was about to tell him.

“I was a sensitive kid, myself, Sir. I promise you Eddie is in good hands with me.”

Scott wondered whether Mr. Munson caught the message in those words while a long silence stretched out. Their gazes were locked: Mr. Munson's eyes were bright blue, completely different from Eddie's but just as expressive. His gaze softened while the seconds passed and underneath his graying beard, his mouth twitched.

“I was a sensitive kid, too,” he eventually said.

And Scott's jaw nearly dropped to the floor. This man, with his big calloused hands and his trucker's hat and his undeniably manly demeanor?

His feelings of astonishment must have been visible on his face, because Mr. Munson chortled softly.

“Didn't see that one coming, did ya?”

Scott laughed, too, making the last bit of residual tension between them disappear. “I'm sorry, Mr. Munson. I had no idea.”

“'S okay,” Mr. Munson said. “'s good to know that Eddie has someone lookin' out for him here. Um –” He scraped his throat. “I um...” He abruptly averted his gaze back to his lap again, where his fingers were nervously fumbling with the cap he was holding between his hands.

“I always make Eddie dinner,” he finally said. “'S one of the few things I can do for him, y'know. It'd probably be better for me if I took a quick nap 'tween my jobs, but it's the only time of the day we got together. I'm not much of a cook, but I try to get him to eat somethin' healthy and warm, and we talk about stuff, whatever it is he wants to talk about. So um... If you ever wanna join us – that is, if you don't mind comin' to the trailer park... We don't have much, but I'm sure we can fit another chair 'round the table. I think it could be good for Eddie.”

Scott could barely believe what was happening. To think that only a few minutes ago, he had been worried about this man having a temper or being neglectful towards his nephew...

Wayne Munson was shy and soft-spoken and he loved Eddie with a passion that sparked a fierce protectiveness. And after having Scott judge him based on the way he looked and a bunch of false assumptions, he showed him nothing but genuine goodness.

He felt his lips bend into a smile more authentic than he'd been able to give in a while.

“I'd love to join you sometime,” he told Mr. Munson. “For Eddie – but I also wouldn't mind getting to know you better,” he added in a sudden spur or braveness.

And he could swear that something suspiciously like a smile matching his own was hiding beneath Mr. Munson's beard.

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Telling you all to listen to Talking Heads

Song: Born Under Punches (The Heat Goes On) - Talking Heads

Literally Me Soul Freeman (Soul Freeman)

[SFM] Gordon has not been hugged since before the Black Mesa Incident (Komegatze)

Half Life Stranding (Harry101UK)

Half Life: Episode 2 | Unforeseen Consequences (Animux)

[SFM] Say my Name (CoreyLaddo)

Combine Hunter | [S2FM Half Life] (BottledWehr)

[naranja-301]

Stan can feel his vision going blurry, he was crying, figures out a while ago but how can't he? He felt like it was to much, to much for him but at the same time felt so good.

There betwen his legs laying down in the bed was Fiddleford, his hands holding with a gentle hold both his thighs and his mouth trailing with soft Kisses his skin. His touch was so gentle and so hot at the same time, the lips of Fiddleford going all the way up from his knees to his inner thighs.

After a few minutes of kissing the touch turned into nibbling, the teeths of Fiddleford leaving light marks in Stan.

Oh, but that wasn't the thing that was making Stan go crazy, it was the things that Fiddleford said to him in any touch his lips Made, in any nibbling his teeth Made on the skin of his thighs.

"I love You so much, Stanley...You are so good...so inteligent"

Another soft bite meets the skin of Stan, that with those Words, the way Fiddleford said them Made him unable to hold back another cried moan from his throat

"I'm-...i'm not-"

"sshhh...My love...My everything...yes You are"

Fiddleford moves his lips more up, almost metting with that spot on the body of Stan that sure would made the man go more overwhealmed that he already was.

"please...Fidds...I...I can't-"

"yes You can, love...please...let me love You..."

Fiddleford moves slighty from betwen the legs of Stan, sitting betwen them and his hands make their way to the face of Stan that had some tears in it. He gives Stan a warm smile, his eyes showing only love for the man under him, sweaping his tears with his thumbs.

He leans foward, Stan has to hold tight the sheets of the bed to supress another moan that wanted to leave his lips but at this point his body didn't made the actions his brain was telling to. He felt scared, even a bit frustrated with himself. Weak, the first thing his brain was screaming at him when he leaves another moan when Fiddleford breaks the Kiss and returns to those soft, gentle touches Fiddleford around his body, and just like if Fiddleford could read his mind he stopped, it was so sudden that made Stan freeze in place.

Stan looks up at Fiddleford Who had a somekind sad expression in his face and Stan hates himself for feeling like being the reason of that expression. Before he can Say anything he feels how Fiddleford holds his hand with his, guiding it to his face, massaging the back of his hand with both of his hands. He could feel the warm of the skin of Fiddleford, his thumb in an unconsious action caresing his cheek.

"Stan..."

"...i'm sorry... i'm-...I-"

God, why did he felt like this? Why does his heart have to hurt so much when looking up at the eyes of the other? Those eyes that Saw in him something he doesn't even know what, but sure enought to make the other stay and don't leave him, don't push him away. He felt his visión going blurry again, no no no he can't, he can't show weakness, not now, not with Fiddleford.

He is about to Say sorry again when the sensation of those warm and soft lips meet his jawline, then the corner of his lips, his nose and finally, the corner on his left eye. His hand no longer on the cheek of Fiddleford but holded with his in a soft grip.

"Stanley...You don't have to Say sorry for anything..."

"..."

"It's ok...it's ok, Stanley..."

Stan keeps looking up in silence at Fiddleford for some minutes, just Staring at the other with a shaky breath. His eyes traveling for all the face of Fiddleford, his eyes, his large nose, those lips, the lips that Made him felt like crazy just Moments before.

And then, he can feel how his ear gets a bit wet, his vision going more blurry. Stan leaves a shaky breath while more and more tears falls from the sides of his face.

He can't help himself this time, his body craving for letting all out, feeling still scared but now more secure, secure that the other wouldn't call him weak, or even a dissater. He cries, he even can feel how Fiddleford hugs him tight with his arms, cooed to him as if he were a little kid.

"it's on Stan...I got You...I got You..."

Stan wraps his arms back around Fiddleford, it was tigh, like he was scared the other would run away from him. He cries now more lauder, hiding his face on the crock of the neck of Fiddleford.

They both keeps like that for around 30 minutes, Fiddleford not stopping wispering those sweet and warm Words to Stan, brushing his hand on his back.

Stan sniffes his nose, sweaping the tears out from his eyes. He doesn't dare to look up at Fiddleford, not yet, he just stays there and wispers lowly at him.

"...thank You...for everything..."

Fiddleford hugs more tight at Stan, leaving a soft Kiss in his ear.

"anytime..."

[homeb0ys]

Screenshots of Antony Starr as Homelander from The Boys Season 4 trailer

[jadewritesficshere]

Hold me close as you drift off to sleep

Eddie Munson x reader

Eddie spends the night for the first time

Contents: no use of gendered pet names,, no physical descriptions of reader but clothes are described, mentions of nervousness, mentions of sharing a toothbrush which leads to mentions of spit kink, no actual smut but allusions to it,

MDNI 18+ only

You slowly looked over your pajama choice in the mirror. A pair of warm plaid pants and a t-shirt from years ago that was faded and soft in the most comfortable way. You weren't sure why you were so nervous about this, you and Eddie had seen each other in many different clothes and lack thereof.

But there was something different about spending the first night together. The first time sleeping together, and by sleeping you actually mean it in the sense of the word. Snoozing. Dreaming. Resting. Snoring-

Oh God what if you snored? You bit your lip as the anxiety started to rise. You didn't think you snored, but what if you did? What if you walked in your sleep? Or worse, what if you talked and shared all your secrets (the most important being you loved Eddie, but you didn't think it was that big of a secret).

The door to your bedroom creaked open, causing your eyes to dart over. Eddie walks in, dumping his clothes on the floor. The white tank top clings to his lean torso, the ill fitting red plaid pants rolled up at the hems. Eddie smiles at you slightly before sighing loudly. You stomach turns until Eddie gestures to his pants," Well, one of us is gonna have to change."

A laugh escapes you just as your worries do. This is Eddie. Your Eddie. There is no need to be nervous.

You walk over to the bed and crawl in," Should have packed a bag just in case. You saw the forecast was calling for snow." Eddie scoffs slightly but crawls into bed," You're my weather.. guide? the weather diviner...the weather-" "meteorologist" "Yeah that! You're that. Wayne watches the news, not me. They just want you to see one side." Eddie pulls the blankets up to his chin and bats his lashes at you," You're my meteorologist and you didn't tell me. Almost like you wanted this to happen."

You smile as you roll your eyes," Yes Edward, I wanted you all to myself and chose to not tell you so that way you had to borrow clothes from whatever was left here by Steve and Robin." "Oh, I'm not borrowing, these are mine now. Finders keepers." Eddie winks at you.

Eddie reaches over and turns off the lamp, letting the room go dark. You blink your eyes a few times, adjusting to the lack of light. You can feel the dip in the bed where Eddie is laying next to you. Your hands almost touching. Hear his breathing cut through the deafening silence.

You look over at Eddie and find him already staring at you. "Sorry if I snore," you mumble looking into his eyes. Eddie brings up a finger and traces your cheekbone," Don't worry about it. Wayne snores, won't bother me if you sound like a chainsaw." You huff and go to turn away but Eddie holds your face towards him.

"Goodnight." Eddie whispers as he leans in and kisses you lightly. Its soft, sweet, and almost shy. You grin into the kiss. Eddie sighs and pulls back a fraction, lips barely touching. You can feel his breath against your face. You can smell peppermint- wait.

"You brush your teeth?" You ask. Eddie hums an affirmative, " Yup. Got my molars and everything. Rinsed your brush really wel-" "My brush?" Eddie looks a bit sheepish as you gape at him," My brush Edward? That's-! What? Eddie!"

Eddie blushes," We've swapped spit when kissing-" "That's different!" "Is it?". You roll away as Eddie makes grabbing hands and tries to keep you facing him. You evade his grasp and stare at the wall, feeling Eddie wrap his arms around your waist,"I'm sorry?"

You can't help but smile as Eddie kisses up and down your neck, apologizing the whole time. You grab his hand resting on your hip and interlock your fingers," It's okay i just don't want to think about it. I guess you have spit in my mouth-" "No I haven't! Wait, is that...Is that on the table cau-" "Don't press your luck tonight Eddie you know what I meant," you warn. "Shutting up" Eddie makes a motion of zipping his mouth shut.

You start to laugh and pretty soon Eddie is too. If you had had any nerves left, they would be gone now. You sigh, relaxing into the bed. The weight of Eddie's arm laid across you, holding you in place, had you feeling secure.

"Night Eddie. Don't let the bed bugs bite," you grin as you close your eyes. They snap back open a minute later as you feel the sting of Eddie's teeth lightly clamp onto your shoulder," Hey!" "No bed bugs here, just me. Your loooovveee bug." Eddie grins as you swat at him," Go to sleep!"

Eddie goes to roll over but you grasp his forearm, pulling his arm back over you. He smiles as he nuzzles his nose into your shoulder. He slides one leg and slots it between yours. Your limbs entangled in a more innocent way then normal. You smile softly as you lay there, trying to go to sleep.

You can hear Eddie's breathing even out as he falls asleep behind you. Knowing he feels safe and comfortable enough to do so makes you feel warm inside. You grin as you start to feel the edges of sleep start to overtake you.

Your eyes flutter open as the sun shines through the window. You look over at Eddie and try to stifle a laugh. His face pressed into the pillow with his hair a wild, tangled mess around him. The pillow slightly discolored from where he has drooled onto it. You can't hold it in when you realize the tank top he's wearing has shifted to reveal his entire pec to you.

Eddie slowly wakes up to your laughter, glaring at you slightly for being woken up. The grumpy look fades from his face as he realizes it's you that woke him up. Eddie sits up quickly, brushing a hand through his hair and only getting it caught once or twice. He wipes at the drool on his chin and gives you a big grin," What are you laughing at?"

You nod at his chest and he looks down. Eddie gasps dramatically," My virtue!" He fixed his top as he chuckles. You're sad to see his chest get covered. "Good morning," you say, hand reaching out to lightly graze his.

Eddie grabs your hand with his, thumb stroking the back of your hand," Good morning my dying fish" You wrinkle your brow at him," your what?" "My dying fish, you flopped around so much like a-" You cut Eddie off by hitting him with your pillow. His mouth drops open before he grabs his and hits you back.

Giggles and the sound of pillows hitting each other fill the air before Eddie tosses the pillow aside and tackles you to the bed. He kisses you before hovering over you slightly," Good morning." You grin back, tucking a stray curl behind his ear," Good morning.

Eddie grins down at you and you smile back. The warmth in his eyes causes your stomach to flutter and heart to beat faster. You don't know what he is thinking but can see the love written plainly on his face. You know that while this was only the first time he slept over, it definitely wouldn't be the last.

Eddie kisses the tip of your nose before jumping up," I'm gonna brush my teeth." He starts to giggle slightly making your eyes widen. "Eddie you better not use my brush!" You holler after him, hearing him cackle as he rushes down the hall," Edward!"

[magicicephoenix]

Erase - The Ink Demonth 2024 (Day 16)

Weird, huh? Almost like someone thought eight legs would be two too many and took action… or something.

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Computer Problems

If anyone heard the muffled sounds of violence that was me strangling my friends for telling me to do this.

And being logical and sensible about it how dare they!

Anyway so. I'm not sure who's actually aware of this? I don't think it's most people. But last year in February my computer got a huge crack down the middle of the screen, and the battery decided it wasn't going to be a proper battery anymore. Those of you who've been around for a while will remember that last year was incredibly difficult for me financially as the steady job I'd had for a couple years disappeared and other jobs I'd been promised dried up (ah, the joys of freelancing).

I now have an office job but it still couldn't fully cover bills until I got a raise which kicked in finally in March. I took on two extra jobs the last few months to try and take care of the debt I accrued last year trying to survive (and taking care of family members; I have been partially supporting a couple of them for the last 2-ish years).

I've put off taking my computer in to be fixed as long as possible. At first it was because until this office job my computer was my income, and I literally couldn't afford to have it out of commission for even a few days. Later it was because I simply did not have the money - my credit card was maxed out, etc - but it's been over a year and I can't see big chunks of the screen, and the battery is doing the equivalent of hacking up blood like a Victorian heroine about to die of consumption.

It's going to cost me $800 to get it fixed, and that's where this post comes in. I have a Ko-fi, and if anyone has anything to spare to help, that would be so deeply appreciated.

I know there is so much going on in the world and people who need financial assistance so much more than I do. Nobody owes me anything, and I feel terrible for even asking. But I've been informed there's no harm in asking, and so here I am.

Thank you for reading this long post, and my (as usual) long winded explanation. Any little bit helps, as does reblogging. I apologize for taking your time sharing this, and I hope everyone is staying safe and taking care of themselves.

Ko-fi

I also have a Patreon that's been on hiatus and I'll be returning to shortly.

[applestruda]

that new skin huh

[aesfocus]

[ganondoodle]

rough wip of a sonia redesign i might use for the totk rewritten project (plus her daughter zelda)

i thought to fix the whole ancestry confusion with just .. having sonia having a child already before meeting rauru, and she named her zelda bc of an ancient legend ;)

also she wears her enigma stone on her hand since she is the one to sacrifice herself to lock ganondorf away (sicne its jsut kinda .. makes more sense especially in my rewrite.. lady locking someone in an awful stasis between life and death with the cost of her own life as an intentional cruel revenge for her husbands death and also she had time powers works so much better both logical and emotional imo; also there is no time travel so zelda(botw) cant take her role and thus stupidly justify sonias death bkjdsbdhsbjs)