Create a photoset of yourself, surrounded by characters you heavily relate to! (in case ur wondering, from top to bottom, left to right it’s tony stark, leia organa, wade wilson, finn, peter quill, lito rodriguez, poussey washington, and kanan jarrus!)
I had a really terrible idea…. Link continually has dreams of past lives, and more often than not they are nightmares. the ones that worry him the most are the things that happened in different timelines.
Ok but like, I share this headcannon SO. HARD.
The line between them being decedents versus the same soul being incarnated each time is a bit blurry as I understand it. But imagine as a Link gets older, and closer to death, they become closer to their past lives, since well, they’re already dead. So they begin to confuse their memories with those of the past, as their soul continuously reaches out for the rest of them, sort of like pieces of a puzzle that want to be whole.
When a Link is young, they are stronger, and don’t feel the pull as strongly, or in some cases, at all. But as the body and mind deteriorates through the natural process of aging, the barriers weaken and the line between themselves and their past lives becomes less and less of a strict line, and more of a blur.
Most Link incarnations don’t make it past their fifties.
i was wondering why hotaru is a firefly? it's adorable hehe
Why is he a firefly? Read on, dearest anon. I hope this answers your question! Much love. 💕
[Kirigakure Hotaru x MC]
There had been a day, about a month after she had turned three and twenty, when she realised she was in love. Initially, this had fazed her less than she would have imagined, in part because she had always considered herself a little in love with him to begin with; she had always felt a sort of low-key hum of attraction for him, the way she felt every time his sleeve brushed a little too close to her skin.
Lately, however, it was beginning to worry her. They had been huddled together slaying menacing vegetables, and although he hadn’t said a word the entire time, he had broken the thread of silence with his loud eyes the second they whipped around to her, hands brandishing his potatoes in a show of gesticulated pride. Never mind that they had been whittled down to the size of a plum, or that one had resembled the curves and dips of a lover’s body. It only mattered that he had blazed as bright as the summer sun in that moment – so unlike their first meeting, when all she could see around him was a cry through swirling shadows – that she had almost leaned over and kissed him.
She stopped herself, and the moment passed. But since then, she had been revisited by that impulse again: twice, three times, four times. And every time it would wrap her up in warmth and make her gut ache.
Today was no different. Yet this time he had done nothing, and she everything; she barrelled through the thread of silence and reached beneath his sleeve to grasp at his wrist. He had jerked back forcefully, then surged forward so suddenly she had to hold him back with hands clutched at his chest. “No,” she said, and he stilled, staring at her with fire in his eyes, as she ran fingertips over his quivering eyebrows, then down his nose, and across the meadows of his cheeks, which huffed in tandom to the rhythm of the dance she skipped along his face.
She knew he found it a comforting gesture: it was adoring, without being the least bit sexual, and she saw how determined he was, how earnest he was being for her in staying put.
When she finally stopped he blinked a few times, then smiled, bashfully, and she was filled with affection for him: for how beautiful he was, for how sweet he was, for how easy it was to love him.
“Firefly,” she said, on a whim, and he had tilted his head in a live rendering of a question. “Your name. Hotaru.” Her mind buzzed back and forth with thoughts of him. “It means firefly.”
It shouldn’t have split his cheeks any wider, nor should it have sent her vision careening, but it did, his arms winding, crushing, so dazzling and full, she could feel him reach inside her heart and stitch a piece of himself to the edges, clearing away storm clouds she didn’t know had gathered until just then. Suddenly it became ridiculous, her timidity, her confusion, her dithering, all of it this past month— silly. She knew where she wanted to be.
She wanted to be home, and home was Hotaru.
She loved him, she realised, crinkled as she was in his arms. She was meant to be with him. She didn’t know what it would mean for them, but she knew she would be safe.
So she opened her mouth to tell him, on a day not too long after turning three and twenty— and as she did, the swirling shadows lifted, as all around them, the skies in their smiles filled with blinding light.