*downs coffee like a shot* Before we go back to our regularly scheduled Linktober/Linktober Shadow (because I don't leave things unfinished if I can help it), I gotta get the idea of Revenant First out of my system and y'all get to suffer with me until it eventually ceases being an idea and it turns into an actual story. For some reason we talk a lot about First already being alive or already a ghost by the time the Chain meets him, but I don't think I've ever heard someone talk about him actually coming back to life and so y'all get to suffer with my insane ramblings like I'm an 1800's psychic ward patient who believes themselves to be a witch.
Can be x Reader or not idk just an idea that won't leave my mind.
Might expand on this later so Part out of I/?
Revenant First, who died for his people and in the name of his Goddess. All alone on the surface, fighting, fighting, fighting, always fighting. Just to make the land a little safer before the next hero arrives, just to contain the Imprisoned for a little while longer with likely nothing than a ordinary, common sword to his name and a slowly rusting armor.
Always giving so so so much for his people, always doing his best to protect them, though they scorned him, loathed him, didn't believe or support him, rejected him.
With a spirit so strong and lovely that a Goddess fell for him, hated herself for having to manipulate and put him through such horrid experiences just to save the many, just to turn the diamond of his soul into an unbreakable lonsdaleite blade agaisnt a mad deity.
Someone whose will would be enough to keep him going, just one more fight right? Just one more kill right? Forward, forward, ever onward, it doesn't matter if the flesh decays, if the blood drips drips drips until he is dry of it, if the liver doesn't process nutrients, if the lungs don't draw air, if the nerves feel nothing but the cold cold numbness of the winter of his final years, if the heart doesn't beat. If the armor rusts or the sword breaks. He must keep going, he must keep fighting.
To keep them safe he must have faith, faith that he can keep going, to grasp onto that one.single.thread of purpose until the day that fiery, indomitable, determined will finally burns out. Even if his Goddess may have forsaken him knowingly or unknowingly, even if his people have rejected him to the point he isn't even human anymore, even though they reviled him, even if that rejection should by all intents and purposes chained his spirit to the land or ground the jewel of his unbreakable soul into dust, he still loves them, still adores them, still wants to protect them.
No matter how long he must keep going for it. He wishes to see those he holds dear happy, though they cursed and imprisoned him once.
The Chain getting dropped into a completely empty, desolated and undeniably dead version of Sky's Hyrule, only to find the only living thing besides monster is a single man, with rusted gold armor and an old sword, a faded tunic of green with a long, crimson scarf like a bloody banner. With hair and eyes like theirs, undeniably a Link. But so very frigid, so very silent they almost didn't notice him, that they can't help but wonder just how many years he has spent there, eroding away, ruined but still kind, kind, so very gentle. A shadow of his former self, yes, but still himself, still so so so good, doing all he can until Sky's Era comes and maybe, just maybe, he can finally rest.
Or maybe not, after all, someone has to keep the land safe until the Hero after Sky comes around, no?
Just Revenant First in general.
Or maybe we give him the House in Fata Morgana treatment, the House in Fata Hylia Au if you will- *collapses from sleep deprivation*
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what abt dorian and felis? :3
i'm going to make a different post about dorian because felis has literally consumed MONTHS of my time
alright, so felis (genderfluid, goes by he/she, amab) is a former child actor who grew up rather lonely, having only one real friend, rudy. because he grew up just acting and interacting with fans, he learned to just fake emotions and pretending to care about people because physically could not make those emotional connections to others since he was not raised to.
in school, people wanted to be close to him only because they were interested in the clout they could get, so he became reserved and avoided people, including his Actual friend, who still kept chasing after him because they were worried. one day, he was super frustrated and lashed out at them. someone was recording, and got a video of him slapping rudy and posted it on social media. felis blamed rudy for ruining his career and shut people out entirely.
(that was all. before the events of the actual story aksjdkdkdndnn ANYWAY) so the real story begins when rudy reaches out to felis when they're both meant to go to college, asking her to go meet them one last time in a forest where they used to play as kids as one final attempt to make amends. she begrudgingly agrees to go, and they wind up fighting again and falling into a "rabbit hole" (rift in space) and getting seperated in another dimension. (oh my god they divorced so hard they got isekai'd)
they end up split up in the new world, and felis winds up in a bake shop and meeting a pair of elven siblings named clementine and lemon, who take him into the city to ask around for ways to get back home. when he gets there, he is chased around by an eccentric poet, lillos, who recognized him from a dvd of a movie that he acted in as a child.
lillos reveals that he has a collection of oddities from the human realm and offers to take felis to the site where he found these things. together, they set out for the rift between realms, constantly getting detoured by royal guards protecting the rift, bounty hunters who had never seen a human before (and immediately decided that they must be worth a lot), seemingly-natural disasters, and more. they also have to find rudy (who is on a completely different set of adventures).
in the end, felis rekindles her relationship with rudy, figures out the meaning of love and friendship, and finds her way back home where she belongs. wahoo love wins!!
anyways um actual personality blurb now SORRY... so felis is sort of stand-offish and rude. she's quick to correct or reprimand anything she doesn't like. she doesn't really smile or laugh much outside of acting. she's usually proper and poised, but she's known to get violent or snap when she's stressed. she's very opinionated and critical of others. when she's losing an argument, she gets quiet and sulky. she's got very low empathy and is bored with conversation most of the time, so she is somewhat avoidant of talking to most people. SHE DOES GET BETTER ABOUT INTERACTING WITH PEOPLE... and she does learn to apolgize and take responsibility for her own actions and stuff. she can also be polite and knows when to be quiet.
and then obligatory pictures!! since this is an art blog!! still cannot find the right sketchbook 😭😭😭
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Propaganda
Jeremy Brett (My Fair Lady)—"...he was beautiful. A strange adjective to use in describing a man. I use it not to suggest effeminacy or a kind of male prettiness, but in the same way I would use it to describe a throughbred stallion, Michelangelo's David or Gershwin's Rhapsody in Blue. There was with Jeremy Huggins [Brett's non- stage name] a perfection and sublime symmetry in his features that was beautiful." [quote from "Bending the Willow" by David Stuart Davies]
Gene Kelly (Singin’ in the Rain, An American in Paris, The Pirate)—It’s hard to know where to start with Gene Kelly because he did so, so much, of such a high quality, from the ballet scenes in “An American in Paris” to the classy suave movie star act of “Singin’ in the Rain” to the incredibly camp, sexy “The Pirate”. He just never stopped finding cool ways to do things and he’s just brilliant to watch, especially when he’s dancing, but even when he’s doing drama or being silly! He’s one of those guys who could genuinely do it all and just radiates charisma through the screen, literally an #icon in every sense of the word.
This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.
[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]
Jeremy Brett propaganda:
"according to critic Kenneth Tynan a 'too beautiful' Hamlet."
“Please take my humble offering of propaganda for bisexual icon ✨️Jeremy Brett✨️ and his early career!"
"he’s such a himbo sunshine boy in my fair lady"
“not technically propaganda because it won’t let me save the images but just found out my bi king jeremy brett played patroclus https://www.jeremy-brett.fr/crbst_183.html and also apparently dorian gray in the 60s and basil hallward in the 70s?? range.”
"...as a dashing D'Artagnan in The Three Musketeers (1966/67) (Duelling is no problem! XD)”
“dropping to sleep - Jeremy is far too handsome to play d'art and also too tall, lol”
Gene Kelly propaganda:
"he was genuinely kind and supportive to judy garland when she was going through a rough time. she was having heavy trauma/addiction responses in 'Summer Stock' which led to her being late all the time and being too scared to come on set, and he actually faked twisting his ankle to distract everyone from her and give her some time off! so yeah, maybe he was a hardass, but when his friend needed him he was 100% there for her, and I think that's worth noting."
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metal arm brrr
Summary: Every problem needs a solution. Bucky just isn't the biggest fan of yours.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Tags: Fluff in the highest degree, old married couple, Swearing (It's Bucky, duh)
A/N: I just needed to give you guys something, it's been too long since i've written on here and you guys are the best :) I've barely checked this over so I apologize for any typos.
*****
“Can you stop moving, please?”
Bucky Barnes half asleep is not someone you want to mess with. The first time you shuffled he had hardly made a sound, the second you were met with a low grumble (a warning you knew well) and the third strike, he was thirty seconds from kicking you out of the bed.
When Bucky had finally learnt to sleep in a bed again, mostly thanks to you, he steadily became a big fan of his beauty sleep and god help anyone who ended up disturbing him. He had a lot to catch up on. Once, you had violently shaken him awake because his phone was ringing and when he heard Sam on the other line, you were deemed a ‘sleep thief’ for a week and a half after. Bucky Barnes was a bitch when it came to his sleep.
You usually wouldn't have any complaints about being in his vice grip but it was January and the nights were still cold and having a boyfriend with a metal arm meant that you were held to him with an ice cold grip around your waist. When the Summer came, it was a life saver, your own personal refrigerator but you still had a good few months to go before you were hanging off his arm everyday.
“Sorry.” You mumbled and tried to convince yourself you were comfortable without another word.
Nope, can’t do it. You shift again.
“You’re kidding- what is it?” He pulls away from you and sits up on his elbow, glaring, he dares you. “Go on.”
With the most innocent doe eyes you could muster you slip your bottom lip between your teeth and debate the argument you could spark when your gaze slips to his vibranium arm in the semi darkness.
He doesn’t miss a thing, you’ve come to realize.
“I swear if you say-”
“-It’s cold! I’m cold! It’s just too much cold!” You burst, arms flailing in desperation.
“It’s my arm! You said you wanted to sleep on my left, this is my left arm, nothing I can do. Okay?”
“There has to be something.” You search the room for solutions, briefly lingering on the sock drawer.
“Oh yeah, sorry, let me just take it off.” Bucky grunts, dripping with sarcasm.
“...If you could?”
“Seriously, fuck you.”
Bucky falls back into his beloved pillow, eyes shut and wishing he has chosen a partner that let him sleep peacefully, then again, why would he want that when you exist?
“Look, either come to the other side or deal with it.”
Silence finally reaches your bedroom and Bucky is deeply in dreamland while you lie awake, scheming away.
In the early hours, you slip out of bed without a sound and make a beeline for the sock drawer, knowing you had some old pairs of slipper socks stuffed at the back. Scissors in hand, you snipped off the toes and smiled at the D.I.Y leg warmers. Oh, he was gonna be mad.
With nearly medical precision, you held out the slumbering Bucky’s arm in front of you and one by one, slid the fluffy socks up the freezing metal until it was sufficiently covered. Thanking the universe, he was a pretty heavy sleeper, you shuffled back under the covers and happily wrapped the soft arm back around your waist.
You slept like a lamb after that.
*****
When the morning came, you woke up before him like usual and briefly left him to his own devices as you made coffee, two mugs sitting on the counter beside each other.
Through the wall, you faintly hear the rising of the soldier before heavy footsteps quickly storm in your direction.
“The fuck is this?”
You look up to see him in the doorway, and find yourself the subject of a stare that would send millions running. Not you. The multicolored socks lined up his arm kind of softened his hoped effect and you had to stifle your laughter.
“A solution?” You shrug.
“No.” He points at you with his flesh arm accusingly “Nu-uh. This? This is not how we solve things.”
“Is it not? I’m really digging the rainbow on you.” The giggle you had tried to push down had spilled over.
“You’re a fucking menace.”
The giggle now a full bodied laugh that had you clutching at your chest as you were overcome with the image of your big, scary, ‘world’s most deadly assassin’ boyfriend glaring daggers at you while donning the most fluffy and most colorful socks up his arm.
Bucky was fighting a grin with all his might, your laughter was like an ugly disease, incredibly contagious, hard to avoid, and annoying.
Something soft hits you in the face and you halt your hysterics as you peer at the slipper sock now at your feet. Lifting your gaze, Bucky is smiling smugly, and working a second sock off his arm.
“Bucky!” You yelp and duck under the counter as the rainbow sock flies in slow motion over your head.
You probably shouldn’t poke the bear but-
“Y’know, for the best shot the United States army had ever seen you sure do miss a lot.” You taunt from your hiding spot.
When there's no response, you make a break for the couch and get shot squarely in the forehead.
“Say that again.” He dares with narrowed eyes.
“Okay, truce. Truce!” You raise your hands in surrender.
“Say sorry for last night.” The pink ball of fluff in his hands, a deadly fate, and you’re consigned to concede
“I apologize for last night.” You sigh, approaching him with caution “Now, it’s been ten whole minutes and you still haven’t subjected me to your obscene morning breath.”
He beckons you with his head and you happily plod over, throwing your arms around his neck. The kiss is sweet, and full of promised mornings to come.
It’s welcomed by you. Until you feel the coldest thing known to man, his left arm, writhing under your shirt and sending immediate shivers down your back.
“Bucky!” You screech and his strong laughter descends on your morning with malice.
Desperately wiggling out of his hold, you escape to the bedroom and yell from your stronghold:
“That was an act of war James Buchanan Barnes!”
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