#i think post canon link can still shoot a bow with one arm
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The Surface: Chapter 25
Summary: A post-canon story. Link and Zelda begin their lives anew in an empty world and learn more about themselves and their destinies. Link searches for answers he never found on his journey, and Zelda is pushed to her limit after a huge discovery.
Notes: This one’s the second to last chapter. Thanks for sticking with me and thanks for betaing @zeldaelmo and @zeldadiarist!!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 24 | Chapter 26 | Ao3
Zelda felt her heart leap to her throat. Her vision blurred. She set her jar on the ground and leaned against the Sealed Temple. The hard cold stone stabilized her trembling legs and offered her burning skin some relief.
“Groose, he’s still not back,” she choked out, clenching her eyes shut.
Groose staggered in place, “Wh—what! Now I thought you were here having a little getaway for a while but you’re telling me—.”
Zelda pointed her eyes on Groose, “A ‘getaway?’ Is that what you think of us?!”
“I didn’t think Link would take this long!” He threw his arms outwards.
Despite the support of the wall, her legs refused to hold her any longer. Her body sank in tandem with her heart. She brought her knees to her chest and rested her forehead in one hand.
I didn’t think he would either…
“Zelda? Are you okay?” She could hear the soft, irregular crunching of grass as Groose hesitantly walked towards her.
“Yeah… I’m just…” She shook her head once, “I’m just thinking.” She lifted her head, crossing her arms, “How do you know people are coming here?”
Groose crouched to reach eye level with her. As they looked at each other, Zelda’s eyebrows furrowed and she interrogated, “And how did you get here? Are you okay? I wish you wouldn’t put yourself in danger!”
“It’s for Skyloft. You would do the same.”
“Fine… Do you at least have any idea how to get back?”
He grinned wide, “Have more faith in Groose,” he held the expression for a couple of seconds and continued, “Well… I know they’re coming because, uh… you see…”
“Yeah?”
Groose looked away, saying, “Someone… told me.”
“Who? Is it credible? Should I be panicking right now?”
“Yes… we have… a spy. It’s credible.”
Zelda released a breath long stored in her chest. She tilted her head to the side and observed the grass below.
“Well.” She stood.
“Well what?” Groose asked, mimicking her action.
Shrugging, she said, “I’ll just go about today like normal. I know what I need to do to protect the Triforce without Link.” She made sparse eye contact while she spoke.
Groose nodded slowly, “Oh—kay.”
“Does anyone in Skyloft know where you are?” Zelda inquired.
“Yeah, I’m out hunting. As long as I come back with something, it doesn’t matter how long I’m gone,” he explained.
“Do you… Could you stay with me, just for a little? Some company would be nice. I was just about to go out and forage myself.”
“Oh, sure. Yeah,” he agreed.
“And… you only brought a sword? I can shoot something for you if you need help,” she offered, referring to her bow.
“Are—you allowed to hunt, being the Goddess and all? Cause, you gotta, you know…”
“I have to eat, too,” she turned towards the forest, “Let’s go.” Groose followed.
Once they were a couple meters past the tree line, Zelda noticed the redhead crouch. If they were striving for silence from this point, she needed to ask him now.
“Groose, one second.”
“Yeah?” he asked, looking towards Zelda.
“Whatever happens, I’m going to do what’s best for Skyloft,” her heart thundered in her chest, “Will you?”
“Of course. Why?”
“Just making sure…” In case the worst happens, she concluded to herself.
If there was a raid tomorrow, she would be forced to use a similar strategy that she used in the war against Demise. To ensure her safety, she would once again secure herself behind the double doors inside the Sealed Temple. After an earlier day spent meditating, she learned how to summon and direct the Triforce. She would relocate the ultimate power into the back room with her, and seal herself along with it.
Only Zelda could dictate the conditions of awakening from her deep sleep. If Link did not return and there was civil unrest in Skyloft, she would guarantee no one could ever access the Triforce. If he never revisited the Sealed Grounds, Zelda would exchange her life to secure the Triforce. Had he perished on his journey—her stomach soured at the thought—she felt that she owed him.
Hunting should distract me for a couple hours.
After they caught something, she decided she would lead Groose to Skyloft. Then, back to the Sealed Temple to face the inevitable.
——
Link watched the feather as it drifted down to his level. He blew air out of his nose and smirked. He thought he would be better off if he rolled over, facing the inside of his little cove where it was mostly black. Lying in that direction, he would know everything he saw was a farce, a trick of his mind.
Gods, he thought, that really did sound like my Loftwing. He wished the harsh animal call that he had heard was replaced by the sound of Zelda singing. During their time together in Skyloft, he was too nervous to outright ask her to sing, so he did not have opportunities to hear it often. He added that to his greatest regrets.
His mouth crackled with an attempt to hum. It was like he had swallowed a mouthful of thorns, each one tracing its own separate line down his throat. He felt like one of the flowers that Zelda used to hang upside down before pressing between the pages of a book. Withered, brittle, like he would snap if he bent or pulled too hard.
He could have more water, he told himself. But he needed to save it. What for, he wondered, he did not know.
“Oh youth,” he choked out in a whisper, “Guided by the servant of the goddess,
“Unite earth and sky, and bring light to the land.”
He pondered the song, which held much more significance since the day of his Wing Ceremony.
All along, kids were predestined for their journey. They were thrust on dangerous paths when they were just teenagers, with the outcome of refusing being their death and the death of everyone they knew. Maybe his destiny was decided when he was a small boy, when he wanted to be a knight more than anything. He could have never guessed what that would entail. His parents would never see what he had accomplished.
But Zelda lived because of him. The residents of Skyloft and all the races of the Surface lived because of him. He helped liberate the Surface, giving this desolate land the chance to thrive, to break through the confines that evil had placed. The people of Skyloft could reclaim the land they once lost—they were no longer caged above the clouds. Link prayed hard that someone, anyone would fly down and visit Zelda soon.
At least he found closure before falling; he was able to sever the strings pulled by Hylia. At least he told Zelda he loved her. He hoped she would be able to move on. His eyes misted when he imagined her with someone else.
Zelda, I’m late again. I’m sorry.
Again, he heard a caw.
“Fine,” he croaked. He dragged himself from the cavity in the wall. When the ceiling was high enough, he crouched to inch towards the light. As he approached the feather, he was standing fully with his neck craned down. Gravity seemed to be pressing harder on him; his bones were replaced with lead. He squinted and slowly tilted his head back. The sun stung, he kept his eyes shut until the light was no longer assaulting.
A pair of eyes stared back at him. He shrieked and fell backwards to the ground. When he pointed his eyes skyward again, the sight was unchanged: two eyes straddling a large beak. The creature was painted red, feathers fanning out of its body.
“It can’t be,” he muttered. The crimson Loftwing screeched in response. Tears streamed around Link’s taught smile. He laid his back flat on the ground, watching the giant bird throw its head back and spread its wings. He interpreted the breaching motion as his Loftwing saying, “Let’s go!” but he could not find it in him to move. Not yet. Now, he could imagine reuniting with Zelda, and prepare himself to encase her in his arms and feel her soft skin. He was close to being with her again, and he was going to relish this moment.
The wind tugged at his hair and clothes as Link and his Loftwing soared through the air. No experience on the ground could be matched with the sense of freedom that a Loftwing provided. Freefalling into Lake Floria or catching an updraft on Eldin Mountain could not compare to the total control and certainty of flying his guardian bird.
Whether it was from the wind or joy or relief, tears seeped out of Link’s eyes, only to be pulled into the sky behind him. Even with air whipping his face and ears, he had not felt this calm and secure in months. He stretched his arms to the side to hug his Loftwing without restraining it. His appendages sunk slightly into the soft, crimson plumage, as if his bird was returning the embrace. Link had fashioned a harness out of vines to support his lower extremities, as he would not be able to hold tight for the hours it took to return to the Sealed Temple in his current condition.
During their flight, Link realized this may well be the last time he will ever ride his Loftwing. He made certain to tell it how much he loved it, how it was a best friend, and how thankful he was for their time together. When he expected that the world and the gods who created it abandoned him, his guardian bird answered his call—his gift from Hylia Herself. Maybe She knew her people would stumble and need the help of their birds after returning to the Surface. Maybe She did not, and his bird flying over was a coincidence.
Link tried not to think too much about the how’s and why’s and instead accepted and celebrated the present. A smile was plastered on his face while he looked into the skies ahead. He resolved, when he saw Zelda again, he would urge them to invite others from Skyloft to the Surface. He did not want to leave their safety up to random chance, and more people meant more security.
Throughout his time in imprisonment, Link had not prayed to Hylia for his survival. Her Grace had mapped out destinies for he and Zelda, but now that they have fulfilled their roles, only they can guide their own lives. Hylia, as Herself and Zelda, ensured the lives of himself and everyone else he knew were able to begin in the first place. After lowering the Master Sword into its pedestal, he started his wild foray into ambiguity. His life was his own.
She probably blessed you, though, he considered as he stroked the back of his bird. And… Zelda and I will be tied to each other forever. Together to participate in the eternal push and pull of good and evil. As the pendulum of war swings, they will be reincarnated time and time again. As friends, lovers, or enemies—Link’s heart warmed with the thought of this life not being the end for them.
He commanded his Loftwing to descend. Besides giving his bird a chance to rest, he was still weakened. Although he was eager to see Zelda, it would do no good to push either of them past their limit. He checked his companion for any injuries, and when he found none, they could repose. He shared the last of his food with his bird and ran his hands over its soft plumage. Soon they would both be released. His Loftwing would return to the sky, and Link would return to a life without world-ending obligations.
When he determined they had enough rest, he fastened himself to his Loftwing again to ascend to the skies. They would arrive at the Sealed Temple soon.
“Groose, I assure you, there’s a faster way,” Zelda said, sitting on a log and watching the redhead assemble a contraption.
“But trapping will save us time in the long run!” Groose declared. “I just need to do a few more tests and we’ll be ready to go.” He stood, carrying his cage made of sticks and reeds, and marched to fasten it to a pulley.
Zelda exhaled deeply. She was able to fill her basket with foraged foods before Groose caught a single beast. She peered at her findings; she tried to search for her favorite things to eat. She was not certain she knew what she preferred anymore.
As Groose struggled to latch a vine over a tall branch he asked, “What happened to ‘a couple of days?’ I thought you were supposed to be back earlier.”
“Groose I…” she kicked a pebble at her feet, “I’m worried. About Link.” She spoke slowly to stifle her emotions.
“Worried?!” Groose exclaimed. “You’re worried about the guy who defeated the evilest dude in history by himself?”
She breathed out quickly, “I guess you’re right…” Her chest felt hollow. She used to think that way. Groose would discover her plan eventually—she could not bring herself to tell him.
Fidgeting with his contraption, he finally admitted, “Although the Groosenator 2.0 is a success, it’s more of a waiting game... Could I, uh, borrow your bow?”
Zelda rose from her seat and smirked, “I’m just happy you’re not the only hunter in town.”
The pair caught a couple of rabbits and waterfowl to bring back to Skyloft. During the hunt, Zelda shared some tips with Groose, and she was impressed by his quick learning. Every time they struck an animal, Zelda would take special care to remove the arrow from it, so as to not oust Groose when he returned home.
——
When they neared Skyloft, Groose offered her words of optimism. “You have nothing to worry about, Zelda. He’s probably just… I don’t know. He’s been out for a while, give the guy some time to rest and get back.”
“Thanks.”
“How are you going to protect the Triforce anyways?”
“It’s… I can’t exactly describe it,” she swallowed hard, “It’s more of a feeling, you know?”
“Goddess stuff?”
“Yeah… goddess stuff…” Her voice trailed, her eyes evaded her friend.
Groose, facing her, began to sound worried, “Well… let me know what I can do.”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you for coming by,” she picked her head up with a fabricated smile.
“I’ll see you ‘round,” he said, a twinge of unease lined his voice.
Zelda turned and threw her arms around him, he responded with, “Woah!”
“Thanks for all your help,” she said, arms still fastened around him, “I mean it. For everything you’ve done.”
“Yeah, no problem. Good luck tomorrow,” he replied before pulling away. “You can take whatever they dish out.”
They parted, Zelda traveling towards her place of exile. Upon facing away from Groose, tears started to fall. How difficult it was for her to move her body at all. A part of her felt displaced from her own body—would these hands maim the heart of the one she loved most? Were they really hers?
She was reminded of the words she once imparted to Link: “I’m prepared to pay the price for what I have done.” She was so certain, so certain the right way to defeat Demise was to use Link as a pawn. Why could she not have been honest with him from the beginning? She walked through the tears, she walked through her heart twisting and squeezing and gasping for relief. The only thing that could provide her relief would be seeing Link’s blue eyes, feeling his sturdy frame close to her.
She wanted to slam herself to the ground, but she did not. She wanted to wrestle with the goddesses above and tear down mountains and flood the earth with her sorrow, but she did not. She could only keep going, for she had to. The world depended on her to keep going, no matter how strong the urge to curl up on the forest floor and become plant matter herself. From the moment she fell to the Surface, her desires were last.
Zelda remembered her last vigil. In her thousands of years of sleep, she had never forgotten Link. He was a recurring figure in her dreams, whether they acted out loose versions of childhood memories or impossible scenarios. Some dreams were dismal, some tugged at her heart and ended in the worst way possible. But they were together. And it felt real. More real than this seemingly endless separation.
Reaching the back entrance of the Sealed Temple, she paused. She placed her hand on the door and dropped her head, tears dotting the grass at her feet. She looked up to the sky with glossy eyes and blinked. Despite the sun boring into her vision, she kept her head tilted back for an extended moment. When she thought she had memorized the look and feel of the sun, she opened the door to the building.
In front of her was the familiar interior of gray stone, patterned with carvings and foliage. She stepped a heavy step, then another, fighting the shackles that pulled her far, far away. She glanced at the spot her and Link used to sleep alongside each other.
Sitting, arms crossed, chin touching his chest, was Link.
#zelink#skyward sword#zelda fanfiction#zelink fanfiction#my writing#surfaceff#loz fanfiction#legend of zelda#ss zelink
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Whumptober day 3: Forced to kneel/held at gunpoint
Fandom: The Musketeers
Characters: Aramis, Porthos, Athos (Comte de la Fere)
Warnings: Blood, canon-typical violence
Notes: Giving up on summaries, sorry, everyone...
Living on the wild side writing in real-time and posting with barely any editing *yeet* ... If you find any mistakes, you're free to keep them.
AO3 link
“Kneel.”
Aramis raised his head and straightened his shoulders, ignoring the muzzle of the pistol digging into his back. “Excuse me?” he asked mildly as if he hadn't understood what he was asked to do.
The man, a minor noble with delusions of grandeur, scowled and repeated more forcefully: “Kneel. That's what you do before your king every day, don't you? Scraping and slobbering for his attention like the dogs that you are.” A sneer twisted his features. “Though you're a pretty one, so you're more of a lapdog, I guess, not one of his attack dogs.”
Aramis tried to smile pleasantly though he could feel tension seeping into it. It was one thing to deal with a disgruntled and rebellious man but this one was clearly approaching madman territory. “You should give him more credit,” he said, “he's quite content with bowing, most of the time.” He raised an eyebrow. “I could indulge you with one of those, maybe?” he offered. It was risky, of course, but if he twisted just right … After all, there was only the man at his back, the others of the noble's small force still out there looking for his brothers. He needed to get free before they returned, with or without the other Musketeers. Preferably without them, though that could also mean two very different things.
In any case, he would show this man that he was anything but a lapdog.
The muzzle dug deeper into his back, and the noble snapped: “On your knees! I won't ask again.” At the same time, the heavy hand resting on Aramis' shoulder began exerting pressure, and even though he tried to resist, his legs bowed involuntarily until his knees hit the dirt.
He held his head high and stared at the man with all the scorn he could muster, which was quite a bit. “Happy now?” he asked.
The noble pursed his lips and stared hard at the kneeling man. “It'll do,” he finally said. “Stay there and don't move – I will think about what to do with you once your friends have joined you.” He got up from the box he had used as a makeshift chair and moved away, leaving Aramis' field of vision and leaving him in the company of his silent sentinel, the hard edge of the muzzle pressing against his neck now as a constant reminder not to move.
It did not take long until his knees and back began to hurt from the uncomfortable position he had been left in, but Aramis refused to show any outward signs of his discomfort. Instead, he finally broke the silence and said to his warden cheerfully: “The weather is nice these days, isn't it? Almost summer. And in a region like this, it's surely quite enjoyable!”
The man grunted and shoved his head forward with the pistol. “No talking!” he barked.
“Don't be like that. I'm just trying to pass the time until your friends come back,” Aramis said. “They seem to take their sweet time with it, don't you think? And here you are, stuck back in camp watching me kneel. Very rewarding, I assume.” Sharp pain at his temple interrupted his stream of words, and he gasped, swaying slightly. But the pistol at the back of his head had disappeared.
“I said no talking!” The guard stepped to the side, and Aramis took his chance. He threw himself to the other side, his leg shooting out and hooking behind the man's knee, and he half pulled, half kicked him. A short outcry escaped the man as he was wrenched to the side and overbalanced, following his prisoner down to the ground. Aramis breathed in sharply when he landed on the rough ground but did not waste time. He pushed himself up and turned around, launching himself at the other man. His bound hands grappled for purchase, and for a moment, he could take hold of the man's belt and one flailing arm. Then another hit clipped his temple, he was shoved to the side and rolled over, and the guard loomed above him, face dark with fury. “You insolent worm!” he spat as he grabbed Aramis' upper arms.
Aramis didn't bother replying. At least the man had lost the pistol, and while his hands were bound, he could still fight this way. He brought his hands up between them, interlocked in a double fist, and rammed them into the man's face. Something gave way under his hands, and blood began rushing out of his opponent's nose down on him. The Musketeer gave him a feral grin that would have made Porthos proud, then pulled up his knee and shoved it into the man's lower body. A grunt was his reward, and he pushed again, feeling the hold on his arms loosening. Slowly, the guard toppled off him to the side, and he wasted no time to shove him away and scrabble upright, then shuffle forward until he was directly above him. “You deserve a nap,” he told him as the man blinked up at him in a daze. Again folding both hands together in a fist, Aramis brought them down on the man's head, and with a small sound escaping the guard, his eyes rolled back in his head.
Aramis let himself slump to the side, breathing hard. He knew he needed to move, to find a knife to free himself and then his weapons, but for a moment, all he could do was blink his eyes and convince his body that no, having a rest was not in the cards for him.
He straightened up – and froze at the sound of footsteps approaching. He had hoped the noble was not close enough to hear the scuffle but today was not his day, it seemed.
“Aramis?” a voice came floating from behind him, sounding almost uncertain – and oh, he would know this deep, rolling bass everywhere. Tension seeped out of his shoulders like water, and he turned his head and grinned over his shoulder at his brother. “Porthos! So nice of you to join us!”
Porthos' worried frown only deepened, and he hastily took the remaining few steps to Aramis' side. “You alright?” he asked even as he already drew his main gauche and set to work cutting Aramis' bonds. “You're hurt?” His gaze lingered on Aramis' face, and it took the marksman a moment to understand before he remembered the guard's nose breaking and the amount of blood that had rained down on him.
“Ah, not much.” Aramis shrugged and drew back his hands when Porthos released them, now free of the rope around his wrists. He rubbed them with a wince and added: “The blood's not mine. I got a hit to the head but I can see straight – so I possibly escaped a concussion, this time.”
Porthos grunted, the worry lines in his face smoothing out slightly. “Your lucky day.”
Aramis grinned, nodding. Then he looked around and frowned. “Where's Athos? d'Artagnan?”
“Athos is--” Porthos started, then stopped. “Athos is coming – and look, he's made a friend!”
Aramis looked in the direction Porthos was pointing in and had to laugh. There his friend was, striding towards them with long steps, and behind him, he was dragging the noble who was ineffectually sputtering at him in sentence fragments like “you have no right!” and “--hanged for this!” Their leader came to a stop before them and looked Aramis up and down. “Are you alright?” he asked in a clipped tone that was barely covering the worry underneath – at least for someone who had known him as long as Aramis had.
“I'm fine,” the marksman said. “You have great timing.”
Porthos snorted. “Not really,” he said. To Athos, he added: “He already took out that one before I got here.” He nodded at the guard lying insensate on the ground. The noble devolved in another bout of incomprehensible outrage.
Aramis smiled and got up laboriously, gratefully accepting Porthos' hand in support. “Still great to have you here now.” He looked around again and frowned, repeating his earlier question: “d'Artagnan?”
“I sent him off to send a message to Treville – informing the Captain of treason took precedence over a rescue mission, I'm afraid,” Athos explained. “As much as it seems the latter was not all that needed.” He nodded at Porthos. “Tie that one to his master,” he ordered, with a gesture to the unconscious guard, ignoring the protests from the noble with a great deal of experience.
Aramis shook his head, the last bit of tension evaporating and leaving him feeling wrung-out and beaten. “I bet he loved that,” he murmured and got a bark of laughter from Porthos and a half-smile from Athos in return.
“He did not,” the swordsman allowed. “But alas, duty called, and we are the King's men.”
“That we are.” Aramis nodded and then grinned at the captive noble. He playfully snapped his teeth at him and gave a short bark. “But not his lapdogs.”
#whumptober2020#no.3#forced to kneel#held at gunpoint#the musketeers#fanfic#blood#flower writes#aramis#porthos#athos
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A/N: Just a quick little prompt fill for @livinginrhythm to get me back in the writing mood. Prompt post linked at the end :) Harry/Allie - Established Relationship Canon Divergent
all filled up with whiskey apologies
It’s almost nine by the time she pulls up to the bar, her half size too small heels already killing her feet even though she slipped them on just before leaving her apartment. She swears out loud when she notices a dime sized pasta stain on the left leg of her ripped jeans and wonders, not for the first time, if she can just bow out of this entire fucking night.
At least three people shout her name when she walks into the dimly lit hole in the wall that Becca assured her served the “best fucking tequila sunrises this side of Hartford”. It’s not that she doesn’t like Becca, she does even though she doesn’t spend very much time with her, it’s the other people that are supposed to be here tonight that she frankly can’t stand. People they went to high school with that Allie would have sooner never seen again, except maybe at their ten year high school reunion that’s still another lifetime (or roughly six years) away.
She pulls out her phone to call Harry to find out where the hell he is, he’s never usually as late to events as she is, when she sees a text message that must have come through when she was driving here.
Babe, I’m not going to make it tonight. Clemens is on my ass about the Peterson case so I need to stay late. Love you, don’t kill Lexie.
“Son of a bitch,” she mutters as she types in a response with enough swear words to make a sailor blush. Harry being here was the only thing that was going to get her through the nightmare this night is going to be and now she has to deal with it alone. She considers leaving, briefly wonders if any of these people would believe her if she made up a lame excuse about being sick, and decides to suck it up and get the night over with. Hell, she was late anyways, which means it’s an hour or two closer to getting out of here than if she’d shown up on time.
“Hey!!” A tiny ball of brown hair and Victoria Secret perfume hits her all at once in a tight hug as Becca flings herself in Allie’s direction. “I can’t believe you came! We invite you all the time!”
Every sentence is loud, punctuated by the distinct aroma of orange juice and Don Julio, and Allie holds her friend at arm’s length so she can look in her eyes. Sure enough they are dull and glassy, the telltale sign that Becca is this side of too drunk. Allie wonders who’s watching the baby tonight but decides, not her circus and not her monkeys, and flags down a bartender to make her a drink.
Lexie is standing off to the corner talking to Campbell, her beady little eyes darting over to Allie every few minutes. They hated each other in high school and while it seems like it was a lifetime ago in reality it was only a few short years. Lexie was always jealous of her relationship with Harry, a side effect of dating the most notorious boy in school, but Allie has never been one to back down from a fight. Allie shoots her a smirk and pulls out her phone, typing out a text to Harry just because Lexie is watching.
Your ex is giving me the stink eye again. This bitch is obsessed with me.
Harry sends back a series of laughing emojis, tells her to play nice and to take a shot of Macallan for him and then send him the total of the tab at the end of the night so he can pay it for her over the phone. It’s not that she dates him for his money but well, it doesn’t hurt when she can take shots that cost more than her monthly cell phone bill for free. It’s not like he wouldn’t be paying for her way if he was here.
You suck for not being here. She texts him and he responds back with a I know, baby. I’ll make it up to you later. And really, how can she be mad at that?
Actually fuck that, she can be mad at him because this whole dumb thing was his idea in the first place. They never go out with this particular group of people, save for Becca, Griz and Sam. She hasn’t seen Helena or Luke, which isn’t a surprise since they are very much like Allie and Harry in that they’d much rather stay at home and do nothing than hang out in a bar with people they talked shit about in high school.
“How you been, Al?” Griz asks as she slides into a booth in the back of the bar next to Sam. He smiles and kisses her cheek, which is sweet so she bumps her shoulder into his and throws him a genuine grin.
“I’ve been alright,” she says as she sips her drink. Becca was right about one thing, the cocktails are amazing and that shot of whiskey hit her just enough to make her a little light headed. Journey is playing on the outdated sound system but you don’t need state of the art speakers to sing along to “Any Way You Want It”.
“Where’s Harry?” Becca asks, her words slightly slurred as she rests her head on Griz’s shoulder. “You two are usually attached at the hip.”
Allie rolls her eyes. “He’s interning this summer at a law firm in Bridgeport and they keep him busy. He had to work late tonight but he sends his best.”
It’s bullshit, he never said anything of the sort, but they are all adults now and it just felt like the adult thing to say. It’s not strange to her to be in such a serious relationship at their age. They started dating in their junior year and stayed together all the way until now, when they are almost ready to graduate. They don’t live together yet, Harry keeps an apartment in the city since he works there more often than not, but he does spend as many nights at her place as he can.
Conversation and drinks flow for the next couple of hours and it’s actually not entirely terrible over here in their little corner. The people she hates, like Lexie and Campbell, stick close to the bar and the people she doesn’t know very well, like Campbell’s girlfriend Elle, don’t bother coming over to them at all. It’s not until Will starts to wander over that things get sufficiently awkward, mostly because her and Will used to date and it didn’t really end well. Like, at all.
Shit, ex alert. She types out to Harry. She’s been running down the entire night for him so far, mostly because she knows he’s busy and it feels just a little like payback for making her do this without him.
Yours or mine?
Mine. You should seriously be here to run interference. I hate you, Harry Bingham. I . Hate. You.
Her cheeks heat when he sends back Not what you were saying last night when your legs were over my shoulders but okay.
“What’s that look for?” Grizz asks, pointing to her flushed skin and Allie rolls her eyes and signals the bartender for another round of shots.
“Nothing, mind your business.”
Will makes it to their table and she groans internally, wishing that she could be anywhere else. Their relationship in high school was full of drama, mostly from Will’s obsession with Kelly, who he dated immediately after breaking up with her. Kelly graduated and went off to California for medical school, leaving Will behind, and she can’t lie and say it doesn’t bring her just a little joy that he ended up alone.
“Hey guys,” he says, setting his bottle of beer on the table next to Allie’s drink. She yanks hers away childishly and Becca snorts. “Hey Allie, how’ve you been?”
“Great,” she says, so cheerfully that it probably sounds like she’s lying even though it’s the truth. It takes another ten minutes of awkward small talk before he finally tells them that he’s taking off of the night and that he’ll see them at the next get together.
Not if she can fucking help it. She’ll never do this shit again, with or without Harry.
She gets a text from Harry around eleven that just says I miss you and she hates that it makes her tear up a little. As much as she wants to be mad at him for ditching her she does understand that what he’s doing is infinitely more important than drinks with their friends. Instead of telling him that she misses him too she says something a little dirty that she’s sure made him groan out loud before taking another shot.
By the time last call comes around she’s definitely too drunk to drive home.
It pisses her off that she let herself drink this much, because the whole reason she even brought her own car was because she didn’t plan on staying long. She’s got two options, either Uber home tonight and back in the morning or call Harry to come and get her.
He picks up on the first ring and she can tell he’s home but hasn’t gotten into bed yet.
“I need you to come here,” she says, her voice thick with tiredness and whiskey, and he chuckles.
“You need me, huh?”
Her groan makes him laugh harder. “Don’t be a dick, Bingham. I’m only in this position because you left me high and dry.”
“I think we can both agree, sweetheart, that I have never once left you dry.”
Her pulse races at his words but she’s still pissed, and drunk, and now turned on because of this asshole and all she wants to do is go home.
“Will you please Uber to the bar and drive me home in my car?”
Her voice must sound pathetic enough because he tells her to sit tight and that he’ll be there in twenty minutes.
Everyone but Becca has left by the time he gets dropped off in front of the bar. He gives Becca a hug, drops a kiss to her forehead and asks if she needs a ride too.
“My Uber will be here in a few minutes,” she says and they wait with her until she’s safely in a car (with a female driver, Allie checked), and on her way home.
“You’re a mess,” Harry laughs as he looks her over and she smacks his hand away when he moves a curl that’s fallen in her face.
“You bailed on me tonight,” she says seriously. “And you made me cry!”
He looks taken aback and his eyes narrow. “What? When?”
“Your stupid ‘I miss you’ text,” she says, her fingers coming up to do sloppy quotation marks in the air. “I was crying, you made me cry!”
He laughs. “Baby.”
“No! You don’t get to use pet names with me right now. I’m mad at you.”
“No, I’m calling you a baby. I’m making fun of you. We both know you were tearing up because you fucking missed me too.”
He pulls her into a hug and she huffs before letting herself melt into his arms. “I’m still mad at you,” she says and he kisses her hair, then her cheek, and then her mouth.
“I told you I’d make it up to you. I’m a man of my word.”
She pulls back and looks at him with a raised eyebrow. “Think so, huh?”
“Yep,” he says, popping the ‘p’ as he takes her by the hand and leads her towards her car. “Drunk sex is amazing, remember?”
There was a spring break in Cabo that she remembers quite well, too many margaritas and an experience on the beach that almost got them arrested.
“I suppose I’ll let you try to make it up to me,” she says when he gets behind the wheel and starts her car. He just shoots her a smirk that’s too fucking sexy for how annoyed she is at him.
He drives with one hand on the wheel and one hand on her knee the entire ride home and she notices that his thumb rests on the pasta stain, covering it completely. It feels weirdly full circle but she’s drunk and it probably wouldn’t make much sense if she tried to say it out loud.
“What are you thinking about over there, boozy?” He asks and she giggles, puts her feelt up on the dashboard (the first thing she did was take off those fucking shoes), and rolls her window down as far as it’ll go for some fresh air.
“Pasta,” is her only response and he gives her a look like she’s crazy but that’s why he loves her.
“We can stop and get food if you want, but I’m not sure anywhere serves pasta at three am.”
And just like that, she’s not mad at him anymore.
prompt: https://bumblingbookworm.tumblr.com/post/616309885231120384
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MASTERLIST, FIC AND LIFE UPDATES
Last Update: November 7, 2023
I REBLOG NSFW AND SFW FICS AND FIC LISTS.
No dub-con or non-con because I am legitimately terrified of that shit, all 18+ either in canon or in fic.
Links to my other fan fiction accounts are below the Q&A.
PFP: Jason Todd (Red Hood), DC comics, by Dexter Soy (https://twitter.com/dextersoy/status/1121067492120522758)
K-POP FICS AND MOODBOARDS
K-POP CHARACTERS DO NOT REFLECT REAL LIFE PERSONS.
Do I write K-pop fics anymore?
No, my K-pop fics are all dead. If, by some miracle, I ever want to work on them again, I will. You can see my progress as a writer in all of them, if you’re interested.
Do I make moodboards anymore?
No, but you may save and use them as PFPs and wallpapers, if you like them!
ANIME FAN FICTIONS
Updates on my Haikyuu! fic, “Relationships”?
I dropped “Relationships” (@relationships-haikyuu) by December 8th (2022), as my Google Document told me. Rest in peace, little guy.
Updates on my Creepypasta fic, “The Housekeeper”?
Currently available to read on my Ao3 and Wattpad. (Links at bottom of masterlist before cutoff) "The Housekeeper” will get its own blog later.
NOVEMBER 7 2023 UPDATE: I’m trying to work on it plus my DC comics fic that hasn’t been published yet AND my actual book lol
My BNHA/MHA fic, “Secrets of Soukutsu Mountain”?
This fic that has both of its previous versions available on Quotev. Version one, “Ursa Frigus” is by far the worst, and version two, “Aurora Hypnosis” is only a little better, IMO. I was supposed to start SoSM in February (2023), as the note in the first chapter of “Aurora Hypnosis” says. I still think about it now and then. Might not start it until late 2023 or 2024. Or never! Who knows?
NOVEMBER 7 2023 NOTE: Probably never, lol
OTHER FAN FICTIONS
Updates on my LOTR fic, “Irises Bloomed in Mud”?
Still a WIP!
HOMESTUCK FAN FICTION
Updates on my Homestuck fan adventure, “Fateless are the Fateful”?
MARCH 16 UPDATE: Writing Act 1 Chapter 1, and it’s going great! See next section for a snippet fun info. about the project!
I want its art style to be all over the place, like you’re looking at the arts and crafts table of a pizzeria, which is a relevant analogy that I will not elaborate on! I’m not “good” at drawing myself; I’m good at writing, and providing ideas for others to literally draw upon.
APRIL 12 UPDATE: Ready to post Chapter 1 tomorrow, plus a “Dave Strider fucking suffers” fic! Links will be below in the April 13 update!
APRIL 13 UPDATE: It’s here! And so is the Dave Strider suffers fic (here)!
NOVEMBER 7 UPDATE: Y’all I think it’s dead, sorry :p
How is life?
NOVEMBER 7 UPDATE: I’d say pretty good!
Can I ask you personal questions?
You can shoot your shot! :D I am a very open (too open) person.
I have Reactive Attachment Disorder and the rarer recessive form of an alread rare dwarfism, Robinow Syndrome. I have minor scoliosis at two parts of the small of my back, my arms are upper thigh length with bowed forearms, I have photosensitivity, I despise loud noises (I still hate balloons!), and I have hypotonia (muscle tone weakness). That last thing fucked over my high school experience, for real. My little brother is not a dwarf ,so we weren’t put in the same foster home. My foster parents fucking sucked, but absolutely could’ve been worse. And that’s the version of the story without all of the details! You can read that version in my Homestuck fan adventure, hooray!
NOVEMBER 7 UPDATE: MY BROTHER AND HIS GIRLFRIEND HAD A BABY GIRL ON SEPTEMBER 17TH! PIPER IS A GOOD, BIG AND CUTE BABY, WE ARE ALL IN LOVE WITH HER!
That’s all, I think! Thanks for sticking around and interacting with my old things, I appreciate it. Puts a smile on my face. Also makes me question your choices.
Bye for now!
—Faith
Tumblr: This is where you are. You know that.
I really only used this in like, 2017, for K-pop, and then petered off. You can find snippets from other fandoms and NSFW reblogs, (like I said all the way at the top, I still do, plus SFW fics and fic lists) but I went inactive because I graduated in 2017 and didn’t move out until 2019. My parents had moved to a homestead property with my mom’s younger sister and her husband, so we didn’t have good Internet. I was very depressed until I went to a group home in May to June of 2019. Then my dad died that November of an aortic dissection. Yeah. And I’m adopted, so it hurt even more! Yeeeah.
But Tumblr is home for me. I may not use as it as often as I “should” (??). But it’s chaos. It’s kindness. It’s the fucking best.
AO3 (wintryEthereal) (actively used, preferred)
Wattpad (wintryEthereal) (for people who prefer to read on Wattpad)
Quotev (@MissMage) (Barely used, full of archives and “archives” lol)
—K-pop Fics and Moodboards Below—
Shift (Discontinued)
(Captured Memories)
Genre: Supernatural x Mafia ATEEZ
Pairings: Seongjoong, Seonghwa x OC, San x OC
Story Rating: 18+
Content Warnings: Violence (?), swearing.
Description: Kim Hongjoong was completing his road trip to his friend Park Seonghwa's house in Chuseok city and stopped to fill his car with fuel and ask where Dawny Road was. He was given false directions and trespassed on the property of Ha Minkyu and kidnapped. Minkyu sent a message to Seonghwa the next morning: he would leave Hongjoong's corpse at Seonghwa's doorstep the morning of the following Friday, if Seonghwa didn't surrender. Seonghwa sent one of his best Stars to infiltrate. The information the member came back with made Seonghwa's decision to free Hongjoong clear, but the catch of becoming the owner of the estate revealed Ha Minkyu's secret to Seonghwa and made him unsure if he could win with his Stars alone. Luckily, he had also been informed about the wishes and secrets of Minkyu's servants and fifteen year old son.
Dawn City Asylum (Discontinued)
(Introduction + Hero Bios — A Fervid Greeting — For Nothing)
Genre: Hero/Angel vs Villain/Demon
Pairings: Jisung x OC, Bang Chan x OC
Story Rating: 18+
Content Rating: Violence, swearing.
Description: The quintet of heroes, Stray Kids, began their careers four months ago and spent that time keeping the city's crime rate as low as possible. On February 8th, Han Jisung brutally kidnapped his girlfriend, Faith. As the Kids walked up to the town hall to discuss this with the mayor and police chief, wanted serial killer Lee Minho, reeking of death and having powers he didn't before, told the Kids to come to the asylum at a specific time. Having no choice, the police and Kids walked into the trap...
ATEEZ MOODBOARDS
Park Seonghwa
romantic blue — vampire + black and blue (2 moodboards, 1 post)
Kim Hongjoong
mermaid — gold/yellow — red — purple
Jeong Yunho
birthday 2020
Kang Yeosang
birthday 2020 — royal gold v1 — royal gold v2 — yellow —
Choi San
peach — red —
Song Mingi
brown
Jung Wooyoung
pink — blue
Choi Jongho
snow white
STRAY KIDS MOODBOARDS
spring (4 moodboards, 1 post; Lee Felix, Han Jisung, Hwang Hyunjin and Yang Jeongin)
ASTRO MOODBOARDS
Park Jinwoo
autumn
GOT7 MOODBOARDS
Lim Jaebeom
untitled
Kim Yugyeom
red
EXO MOODBOARDS
Kim Jongin
naughty b&w
B.A.P SCENARIOS
Jung Daehyun
I Guess I’ll Stay (I wrote this four years ago! Feel free to check it out if you want a look at the progress of my writing.)
Non-Alcoholic Wine (Written at the same time as I Guess I’ll Stay)
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Hello! You both give good advice and write Winterhawk, so I was wondering if you'd mind giving a few tips since I might want to start writing Winterhawk? Like, is one of them a raging disaster and the other mostly has themselves together? How do you see them? Which of them would break a (dumb) law and who would keep their dumb friend from getting arrested? I haven't read fics either so if you know of any that really nail their characters, I would also love that. Thank you!!
oh boy do i have a lot to say on this subject!!!
the thing about winterhawk is that they are both dumb beautiful oblivious idiots, but they are also both highly skilled and competent strategists and agents. there are certainly differences between the two characters, but i think what makes them so compelling is their similarities. they’ve both been brainwashed and forced to do horrible things that they would never do otherwise. clint was kept under loki’s thrall for three or so days and was indirectly responsible for hundreds of deaths (and directly responsible for maybe a few dozen). bucky was kept captive by hydra for seventy years and was involved in dozens of extremely sophisticated assassinations, including jfk. they’re both going to spend the rest of their lives trying to make up for things they did that they could not control that they still take responsibility for. they both have ptsd and nightmares. they are both still good, soft, loving people in spite of the terrible things that have been done to them. although they’re probably both down for a revenge spree to make sure the bad guys never get to hurt anyone else.
(they’re also both snipers. clint uses a bow and arrow, and bucky uses a gun. who is the better shot? it’s impossible to guess, they should definitely have a shooting contest to find out!! they should definitely bet on the results!! the loser should definitely have to take the winner out on a date!!)
they are also both canonically disabled. bucky lost his left arm and uses a prosthetic. clint is hard of hearing and wears cool purple behind-the-ear hearing aids (i realize that using the term ‘disabled’ for hearing loss can be fraught, but to my knowledge clint does not identify with the capital-D Deaf community, and his hearing loss is acquired after trauma and not congenital).
they also have their unique traits. clint has depression, and his life outside of work is always kind of falling apart because of it. clint is our good disaster boy who is trying his best, and his heart is always in the right place, and he is loyal and good and protective, but his life is a dumpster fire.
clint is 6′3 (tall!!!) and bucky is 5′9 (small!!!!!) and this is Very Important. clint has broad shoulders and really muscular arms and back because of archery, and bucky has real good thicc thighs Because We Say So.
clint has a one-eyed dog named lucky who he rescued after some assholes pushed him into oncoming traffic. bucky (sometimes) has a white cat named alpine, although he only started appearing in comics like eight months ago so not everyone is on board with this headcanon yet.
uhhh also bucky is like over a hundred years old, and clint is like, i don’t know? in his thirties? i usually imagine him being in his thirties. but definitely not a hundred.
(in his defense, bucky looks extremely good for his age, but being cryogenically frozen by terrorists for long stretches of time will do that to you.)
“wait,” you may be saying. “i watched some avengers movies, and this does not sound like clint at all?” and, you know, fair point. the problem is that the first avengers movie came out in april of 2012. then, in august of 2012 matt fraction started writing the hawkeye comic book series which is extremely beloved and really deft and emotional and powerful and really changed how a lot of people saw the character, but it was really Too Late for any of that to carry over into the MCU. when people ship winterhawk, they sometimes mean movie bucky and sometimes mean comics bucky, but they almost always mean comics clint.
i realize this is confusing.
this is why you have to Read The Fic and Learn From The Masters.
here at Winterhawk 101, our reading list is pretty simple, and it is: the complete and unabridged works of @captn-sara-holmes, which can be found here. it is impossible to overstate how much sara is directly or indirectly responsible for pretty much every single one of us being here. like, we all go here, but she built here. i would posit that every single winterhawk writer joined fandom either because they read one of sara’s stories and fell in love, or because a friend of theirs read one of sara’s stories and they got yanked along for the ride (see below: winterhawk is a pyramid scheme).
i always suggest starting with clint barton’s super secret snipers’ club, which i think is a very accessible way into this fandom and basically a masterclass in what makes this pairing fascinating and compelling and tender and perfect. where you go after that is up to you. there’s time travel, kidapping, kidfic, this one amazing fic based on the martian that’s so good i don’t even know how to describe it, and plenty more.
study sara’s work. learn her ways. realistically, i think like 80% of us are just writing our stories based on her stories anyway.
but also! there are so many other people in this fandom creating amazing fics and fanarts, and it’s a fun and thriving and creative community full of people who are excited about making stuff and excited about people joining the community. there are always fandom events going on.
here is a link to the mcu bad decision buddies discord (18+ only, please), which is not officially a winterhawk server but…it is a winterhawk server. it moves fast sometimes, and some people can be a little feral, but it’s a great place to do writing sprints and to promo your work and to meet new people and ask questions.
the winterhawk reverse big bang wrapped up pretty recently, and there are lots of new stories and artworks available for you to put into your eyes!
@winterhawkbingo is going strong!
@mandatoryfunday is an amazing account that posts a new prompt every monday, and people spend the week creating arts and fics based on the prompt, to be posted on friday (or like…on saturday or sunday if you are me lol)
the winterhawk tumblr tag is always popping, and lots of fans track it or check it regularly. if you post a story there or if you ask a question about fandom, someone will find it, even if you have no winterhawk followers.
in conclusion
winterhawk is a pyramid scheme
it is, though. because the people who love this pairing love it so, so much, and it’s something you want to share with your friends. you get sucked into it, even if maybe you didn’t want to and you’d been actively resisting it because you were so sure you weren’t going to like it (am i talking about me? who can say?). and once you’re into it and your mind is blown, you start thinking of people you know who would also enjoy the unique kind of hurt/comfort, angst, recovery, catharsis, etc. that this pairing excels at providing. you’re gonna bring a friend along. you’re probably gonna bring a few friends along. and you’re all going to create cool stuff, and the fandom will keep growing and changing, and so there is new fan content being created constantly. it’s a very rewarding fandom experience. it really, really is.
anyway, both those idiots would break the law if it was dumb enough. clint’s the one who ends up in jail, but by the time bucky shows up to bail him out, clint’s already slipped his cuffs and charmed the secretary and escaped out the window in the bathroom. but he probably took three steps of freedom before tripping over his shoelaces and faceplanting on the pavement, and that’s where bucky finds him, passed out in the alley.
#winterhawk#i feel like i did not do this ask justice AT ALL but don't worry i'm sure some other winterhawk fans are gonna chime in#we all love to talk :)#long post#Anonymous
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Trying To Tie Loose Ends (Catharsis Continuation): Bonus Chapter 1: Going Home
Brivere is just…tired. All he wants to do is go home, but he can’t go there without the only thing he has left in the world: his beloved little brother.
(An angst AU of Coma Baby, a sidlink fic by BanishedOne. It takes place roughly after Brivere last sees Prince Sidon when he took the spirit potion and occurs over the week that Sidon was knocked the fuck out. It borrows dialogue from CH 48 of Coma Baby, to keep in the spirit of this being like an alternate timeline.)
This is a fanfiction for a fanfiction called Coma Baby by BanishedOne on AO3 (tumblr @banishfics / @banishedone), and a continuation of the other one I wrote called Catharsis. If you like a grumpy Link and really well developed, deep characters and an amazing take on the political structure of the Zora Domain, then definitely check out Coma Baby!
I know that I haven’t posted all of TTTLE yet, but I actually finished everything already and I just wanted to get this chapter out there before the next big chapter of Coma Baby, 49′s epic boss fight! This particular chapter is written with my own experiences of depression and suicide, so hopefully it feels real in that aspect.
My tumblr is bunnyb0b! I post memes and fics for Coma Baby there, you can chat with me any time about anything!
Huge thank you to my amazing beta reader Alina! Her tumblr and ff.net is @ipromiseitsnotanobsession. She actually does editing shit for a living and she is the one that makes sure these things aren’t trash, so. Also this particular chapter was made for her, because she loves angst lmao
Disclaimer: In no way does this have any true ties or canon to Coma Baby unless stated otherwise. It’s really just an indulgence AU to feed my obsession for Brivere drama.
Brivere was just… tired. Tired of everything, really.
The past and the present were taking a toll on him. He had accidentally lashed out at his only true friend, Prince Sidon. And the way that his prince had stared at him a few days later, as if they were strangers or perhaps even worse, had absolutely crushed the golden knight’s heart. Seeing the wretch that had stolen his beloved Sidon’s heart, standing there, watching all of it with a triumphant look in his smug blue eyes, infuriated Brivere to no end.
He had no one now. Prince Sidon had been the only one to ever really be there for him, allowing him to drink up constant praise and affection that he didn’t deserve. Uncertainty tugged at Brivere’s heart at the fact that he wasn’t sure if his crush on the prince was true love or… just a broken attempt to hang onto every ounce of positive attention that came his way, to get absolutely drunk off of the prince’s genuine care and concern.
And, as Brivere sat at the edge of the cistern in his home, legs dangling in the possibly contaminated water, he wondered if he could blame himself for that. After all, the prince’s attention was the only positive attention that he really received. It was clear that all of the other soldiers didn’t like him, or anyone else, really. This was exemplified when the Guard Captain refused to help give his younger brother rations, despite Estuu’s extremely sensitive palate. It was also apparent when the other nobles would glare at him when he was just trying to do his job as First Knight.
Then he thought about why. It had all begun when his so-called father had hastily married his mother, claiming to love her but leaving no evidence of it, dooming her and her unborn son to a life of torment and humiliation. And when he was born, no one had believed her story, and they were stripped of nobility status. Then, in her grieving state, she had been taken advantage of by a smooth talking noble named Zambezi, who had just gotten her pregnant and had eventually abandoned them. The only good thing to come out of it had been his younger brother, who he would lay his life down for.
Estuu. The only person he had left.
Brivere glanced over his shoulder to watch the younger Zora, who was completely wrapped up in a blanket and surrounded by piles of his favorite books. They were the only things that had survived the wreckage.
Right. Their house had collapsed in the earthquake. And as if they hadn’t lost enough already, Estuu had lost the lower half of his arm, also losing both his ability to shoot a bow and arrow along his power to quickly heal people. The rare ability that had given them some sort of worth in society.
Now, they had nothing. They were nothing.
Brivere let out a deep exhale, fully turning to his younger brother. “Estuu.” he said quietly, rolling around the bottle in his hands. “May you come here? I must talk to you about something urgent.”
The younger Zora didn’t move, the only thing indicating that he had even heard a word at all being the slight flicker of his golden eyes. Finally, he relented, unraveling his mangled body out of the blanket cocoon, the only thing that protected him from the world that threatened to overwhelm him every second that he dared to live in it.
Estuu slowly made his way over to his older brother, settling down beside him and dangling his feet in the water. That was when Brivere knew that his younger brother was thinking the same thing.
Because it didn’t matter that the water was contaminated with the Water Blight, considering what they were about to do.
He held up the familiar bottle, shaking it in front of the younger Zora’s dull eyes. Sensing the hesitation there, Brivere decided to fully explain the implications to his little brother, to eliminate any chance of doubt. “As you must recognize, this is mother’s bottle. The same one from that day.”
Estuu nodded. Neither of them could forget a single detail from the moment they had found their dead mother, floating in their poisoned cistern.
“Perhaps it is morbid, but I have kept it all this time. Both because it is the only thing we have of her, other than my longsword and our memories, and also…” his voice trailed off, trying to force the words out of his chest. “… because I thought we may need it someday. This poison is so strong that it isn’t even allowed in the Domain anymore.”
His younger brother just continued to stare at him, unflinching. Brivere sighed. “I know. But I promise that I hid it because I thought that we would never need it. Because I hoped that things would get better.” He absolutely hated the way his voice was getting weaker by the second, the way he was breaking down in front of the one person he was supposed to be strong for.
But he just couldn’t be strong anymore. Maybe he never had been.
“However, I cannot lie anymore, Estuu.” he explained. “It is not fair to me. It is not fair to you. I have lost all hope. There is no future for either of us other than the torment that we have been putting ourselves through for nothing.” He wasn’t sure if he was surprised or not when Estuu nodded in agreement.
But he still caught the hesitation that lingered in his little brother’s golden eyes. “Estuu…” he said. “Do you miss mother?”
The younger Zora nodded feverishly. “Of course.” Brivere sadly chuckled. “It would be foolish to think otherwise.” He sat the bottle in his lap along with his hands, slightly rocking it back and forth. “She was the only home I have ever felt. I am sure you feel the same way. Not that I do not love you or that I am accusing you of not loving me, of course. But she made the world feel… safe. Like it was a place that would forgive us for simply trying to live among everyone else.” Estuu nodded, clearly agreeing with him.
“Estuu…” he whispered, voice barely audible. “All I want to do is go home. Don’t you desire that as well? To feel safe, to feel loved. And perhaps it is selfish of me, but as always… I could never go anywhere without you.”
To his surprise, his little brother suddenly slipped his small hand over his own, gently squeezing it as he nodded. Estuu had always hated touch. For him to do this…
He blinked away the tears that welled up in the corner of his eyes. “Thank you, Estuu. But I will only allow this if you promise that this is something you desire as well, without my own feelings to persuade you.”
Estuu gestured at the bottle. “Are you just worried that it won’t be efficient enough?” Brivere questioned, raising his brow. Nodding, the younger Zora let out a whine and pointed between the two of them with his only hand.
“Enough for both of us?” Brivere asked, holding up the bottle to closely examine it. The dark liquid inside only filled up the bottle halfway, and sure, perhaps that was enough to quickly kill his mother when she had used it. But that was over a century ago, so it may have lost its potency. Besides, he and Estuu weren’t children like they were back then. Both of them were much older now. “I am sure it is enough. Perhaps it won’t be as quick, but it will certainly be painless, and it is the best way I can imagine seeing mother again.”
Nodding, Estuu gently lowered himself into the water, floating around. Brivere watched him fondly, remembering how they both used to do that before bedtime while waiting for their mother. It just appeared that the tables had turned, because now she was waiting for them.
He quickly lowered himself in as well, treading water as Estuu slowly swam around him. Grabbing the bottle, he held eye contact with his younger brother, who was staring back at him intensely. Usually, Estuu hated direct eye contact. But this would be the last time he could have it.
Brivere shook the bottle and held it up. “I promise that it will not hurt. It will feel like you are just going to sleep. In fact,” he swam over, tilting Estuu until he was on his back, “why don’t you try and take a nap? You will miss less that way.”
His younger brother hesitated, pointing his only hand at Brivere, who chuckled softly. “It is alright. I will still be here, watching you. I will make sure we go home together.”
Estuu slowly closed his eyes and nodded. Brivere hovered his hands underneath of his little brother, making sure that he didn’t move too much. When the younger Zora’s breaths became even and shallow, Brivere waved his hand in front of his little brother’s face. He was certain that Estuu had fallen asleep. Quietly, he uncorked the bottle and poured the dark liquid inside of the cistern.
The second it hit the water, Brivere could instantly feel the effects. His body suddenly felt very heavy, and eventually he let go, allowing himself to drift in the contaminated water. He watched Estuu’s body tense up for a second, eventually relaxing until his body went fully limp, bobbing gently in the water. Using the last of his strength, he pushed himself off of the wall and over to his little brother, cradling the tiny Zora into his broad chest.
Estuu wasn’t breathing. Before, this would’ve sent the golden Zora into hysterics, but in that moment, he let out a sigh of relief. He let the darkness cloud his vision as his head rolled back, completely giving himself over to oblivion.
;
Brivere awoke in the water. As his consciousness slowly came back to him, anxiety began to blossom in his chest. Did it not work?
Panicked, he tried to orient himself to tread water, desperately searching for his younger brother. It was difficult, as his legs felt as heavy as stone. Eventually, he managed to float upright in the water, scanning its smooth surface. Estuu was nowhere in sight. But as he took in his surroundings more, he realized where he actually was.
The medical bay.
A healer standing off to the side quickly looked over, startled by the sudden splashing. “Ah, First Knight!” she yelped, running over to the edge of the pool. “Please, do not move too much! You are still in critical condition!”
This was too much. “Where is my younger brother?!” he cried, pushing her away.
“Please, calm down! I will tell you what happened only if you float on your back!”
Hesitatingly, he did so, finding it difficult once again because of his legs, which felt numb for some odd reason. It took a while, but when he was finally on his back, his gold eyes stared intensely back up at her. “Please, mam, he is all I have. Where is Estuu?”
She shook her head sadly. “I am afraid that he is dead.”
“…what happened?” he croaked, fighting back the tears that stung his eyes. “I… I was supposed to go with him…”
The healer was frozen in place, trying to gather her thoughts. “I am so sorry, First Knight-!”
“Please do not call me that.” he whispered sharply, tightly shutting his eyes. “I do not deserve the title. Just… just Brivere is fine.”
She nodded. “Then, Brivere… I am so sorry. Some guards had entered your house because someone had reported that you were filling up your cistern, which is prohibited due to the Water Blight still spreading around. They were prepared to just arrest you, but…” her voice trailed off. He hated that he didn’t even have to look at her to see the pity on her face; it was practically dripping off of her words. “…no one expected to see you and your brother floating in poisoned water. They retrieved you, but your brother… he died long before they came in. I am sorry.”
“…Why?” he croaked. “Why didn’t I die too?”
“I am sorry that you felt the need to take your own life.” she said in a quiet voice. “Everyone is aware of your situation and background, and, in retrospect, they could see why. But even then, you shouldn’t have done this, Brivere. You have so much ahead-!”
“NO!” he screamed, eyes flying open in rage. “WHY DIDN’T I DIE TOO?!”
The healer flinched and jumped back. “The poison… it was extremely old. It was enough to kill your younger brother because he is still a child, but you’re a fully grown adult so it would have taken more time. If the guards hadn’t gotten you out, you certainly would have-“
Brivere rolled over, ignoring his legs that uselessly dragged through the water, instead using his strong arms to push himself over to her. “Then they should have left me there.” he spat.
She shook her head. “Brivere, please-!”
“You don’t understand!” he shouted in her face. “No one understands! I have nothing! I don’t even have my little brother anymore!”
Brivere’s voice cracked suddenly, as he was unable to hold back the tears anymore. He absolutely despised how much his voice dropped after that, so he fought the pain swelling in his throat to force out the words trapped inside. “All I wanted…” he whimpered. “I just… I just wanted to go home.”
The healer reached down and placed a hand on his shoulder. He was too tired to smack it away. “I am so sorry, Brivere. Please, just rest for now. We will have more healers come to talk about what the plan will be in regards to your situation.”
He nodded weakly. It didn’t matter anyways. “Just… is there anything else I need to know?” Catching the apprehension that flashed on her face, he continued. “If there is anything else, just say it. Just get all of the bad things out now so that I won’t break again later.”
She nodded hesitantly. “Well… the poison was in your system enough to still have an impact on your body. As a result, your legs don’t work anymore. And as such… you were dismissed from your position as First Knight.”
Brivere stared back at her, and she prepared for another melt down, but to her surprise he just laughed weakly. There was no humor in it, though. “I don’t know what I expected.” he murmured. “Just when I thought there was nothing else I could lose…”
“Brivere…”
He shook his head and tried to float on his back again, only using his arms. “Please. Just leave. I just need to be alone.”
Nodding, the healer shot him an apologetic look before stepping out of the archway, leaving him alone to soak in the healing water and his new reality.
;
The next few days in the medical bay were a horrible blur.
Muzu came by to officially dismiss him from his position as First Knight. He just nodded back numbly, too exhausted to say anything. After an awkward moment of silence, the old Zora had quickly bowed and apologized before scurrying out of the archway.
Healer after healer had come in, all of them talking in a coddling tone of voice that infuriated him. He didn’t want their pity. He didn’t deserve their help. All he wanted was to go home. But after a mental examination, they had deemed him too unstable to leave. In his sleep, they had cuffed his ankle to a chain bolted to the bottom of the healing pool, keeping him on a leash that wouldn’t even let him reach the edge of the medical bay.
So after losing his younger brother, his respected position, and his own damn legs, he apparently lost his freedom as well.
And to top it all off, it appeared that the goddess was also coming for whatever was left of his dignity, which luckily for him, was next to nothing, meaning that he at least wouldn’t have to lose much. Soldiers and nobles came in all the time trying to apologize, but he could tell that many were doing it more out of false sympathy than real sorrow and regret. Or perhaps they thought that a simple “sorry” would somehow even out the other vicious words they had pierced him with over the past hundred years. But he still caught the way they looked at him with pity, silently thankful that they hadn’t ended up as low as he had.
Even then, he could still see a hint of satisfaction in some of their eyes. As if he deserved this. As if it was punishment for some crime that he had never committed. Although he was chained to the pool, he could still hear their whispers in the hallways, calling him a monster for dragging his little brother into it, saying that it was about time that he tried at all. Apparently a common joke now was that he even failed at killing himself. Just like how he failed at everything else in his worthless life.
Captain Betaal, or rather, First Knight Betaal, visited a week in. She looked down at him, and he couldn’t tell if it was disgust or glee shining in her remaining eye. Probably both. She simply said her apologies, just like everyone else, and then promised that she would take care of Prince Sidon. Whatever he saw in her eye before turned to pity as she silently looked over his broken form one last time before leaving.
What finally broke him was when the Hylian Champion came the next day.
Link had walked in during a rare moment when no healers or any other Zora had come to visit. He wondered to himself if the Hylian had done it on purpose.
Brivere stared as Link made his way to the edge of the water. When he sat down, he snarled at the golden Zora. “Pathetic.” the Hylian spat.
“…I beg your pardon?” he growled, feeling the heat rising in his chest. It wasn’t an apology. It was an invitation, daring Link to explain his audacity.
“I didn’t think you could sink any lower than you were before.” the Hylian scowled, staring him down with icy blue eyes. “What, is this because you’re still mad that Sidon didn’t choose you? You hurt him enough with your words, did you intend to fully destroy him and guilt trip him into not seeing me anymore?”
Brivere snarled, baring his sharp teeth. “Not everything is about you, you selfish wretch.”
“Oh, I’m selfish?!” Link laughed incredulously. “I don’t recall dragging my own disabled and clearly emotionally unstable brother into some poisoned water! I don’t recall being enough of a coward that I let him die before me!”
The golden knight let out a roar and shot forward, lunging at the Hylian. He would have torn Link apart if it hadn’t been for the metal cuff that dug into his ankle. Not as if he could feel it anyways. “Do not pretend to be higher than me!” Brivere shouted. “Do not act as if you are one to pass judgement! You have no idea what kind of torment I have gone through, especially because of someone like you!”
“Same to you!” Link screamed back in his face. “Do you know how much you hurt Sidon with what you fuckin’ said to him?! I’m the one who had to comfort him while you jacked yourself off of your own self-pity!”
“As if you could take care of him!” Brivere spat. “I refuse to accept that someone as low and vile as you could possibly be the one that will be a good lover to him!”
Link’s face contorted into a crazed sneer as he leaned in, knowing that Brivere couldn’t grab him. “Well then you have to accept it. Sidon already knows that I’m better for him.” he chuckled. “Your fits of jealously are honestly just pitiful and annoying at this point.”
“It is not jealousy.” Brivere hissed, narrowing his gold eyes. “I have dedicated my life to protecting the prince. I have already accepted that I will probably never be his friend again after what I have done, and that is alright. If it is good for his health, then I will give up everything for him. But you!” he scowled, stabbing a finger at the air right in front of the Hylian. “You are just as bad for him as I am, if not worse! All you do is destroy everything that comes near you. Yet you dare to pretend that you are better than me, as you ignore all of the damage you have caused.”
“Oh, what the hell are you even babbling on about?” Link laughed. There was clearly no humor in it.
“Do you honestly believe that I do not know about what you have done?” Brivere spat, boring a hole into the Hylian’s head with his blazing eyes. “You took our prince and forced him to commit sexual acts that he was not comfortable with out of concern for your safety. And then, as if you had determined that you didn’t break him enough, you summoned his sister’s spirit so that she could heal the wounds that were a result of your selfishness.”
The Hylian Champion stared back in disbelief, jaw slightly ajar. “You… you knew? How-!”
“As if my lord wouldn’t tell me! We have been friends long before he even knew of your existence!” the Zora snapped. “You bring up how much I hurt him? Then you should have seen the way he begged for my forgiveness when he couldn’t focus on our sparing because of your sins!”
Brivere stopped himself and clenched his fists, absolutely trembling with fury. But he couldn’t tell if it was directed more at the heinous man in front of him or at himself. He had failed to protect the man he loved, the man he had sworn his life to protect. The man who was too caring, too kind, too naïve to see the danger within the Hylian that sat there as if he had done nothing wrong.
“You…” the golden knight hissed, vitriol dripping off of his words, “You are nothing but a worthless parasite feeding off of his kindness and love, hiding behind the false pretense that you could ever be a proper lover to him.” He glared at the Hylian, rage boiling in his chest. “Truly, how dare you. You are as wretched as they come.”
To his surprise, Link recovered easily, staring back at him with triumph in his cold, blue eyes. “I could say the exact same thing about you.” he purred, voice disgustingly sweet. “But the fact remains that at the end of the day, Sidon still deemed that I was more worthy than you.”
Brivere numbly bobbed in the water as the Hylian’s words sank in. Satisfied, Link got up and began walking out of the archway but stopped, looking back over his shoulder to eye the broken Zora in the water. “You have nothing because you are nothing.” he said simply.
And with that, Link walked out of the room, leaving Brivere with nothing but the truth echoing in his head.
;
That night, he just couldn’t take it anymore.
He just wanted to go home. He just wanted to see his family.
Diving under the surface, Brivere pushed through the water with his strong arms until he reached the bottom. He grabbed onto the metal chain and pulled with all of his might, feeling his joints pop and muscles burn from the effort. It wouldn’t budge. Eventually, he let go when his arms felt like they were on fire, despite the cool water he was submerged in. His fingers were sore and bruised from being so harshly clenched around the chains.
He warily eyed the cuff on his ankle. The silver leash would be impossible to take off without the guards or healers, who would never accept such a request.
But he could take off his foot on his own.
Bending himself at the waist, he opened his mouth and bit down on his ankle, hard. He smothered the scream that thrashed around in his chest when pain began to shoot up his leg and make his body buzz with agony. Trying to ignore it, he bit down harder, moving his head back and forth to saw through his own bones. If he imagined hard enough, he could pretend that he was just eating another fish for dinner. This was admittedly a bit difficult, as he had refused most of the meals given to him anyways, so he couldn’t exactly remember what eating a good dinner actually felt like.
With a sickening crack that loudly echoed through the water, he watched his foot slowly sink to the bottom of the pool as a cloud of blood began to taint his whole world red. Brivere quickly pulled his stumped ankle out of the metal cuff with ease.
He ignored the pain that burned his leg as he used his arms to swim back up to the surface. It wouldn’t matter anyways. None of it would matter soon.
When he broke through the surface, he scanned the room for any late night visitors or healers. By Hylia’s first blessing to him, no one was there. He swiftly shot over to the edge of the pool, hoisting himself up. It was harder to accomplish than he had anticipated, as days of inactivity and refusing meals suddenly took its toll on him as the adrenaline subsided. Nonetheless, he fought through the screaming of his muscles as he dragged himself out of the pool, crumpling against the cool stone with panting, labored breaths.
Shit. He hadn’t actually thought this far ahead.
Brivere quickly ran through the options in his mind, wanting to get this over with quickly before someone came in to stop him like last time. He didn’t have the poison on him. Obviously, he couldn’t drown himself. He couldn’t bite his own heart out… but perhaps he could claw at his throat?
He reached up to try it, but cursed when he felt his trimmed claws scratch at his scales. Damn. The healers must have anticipated that.
Looking around the empty room, his eyes finally settled on the window. No bars, no screen. Just an open hole in the wall, letting the moonlight flood into the room. A silent prayer echoed in his mind as he dragged himself towards it, begging Hylia to have mercy on him just this once.
And apparently, she had finally decided to show him some generosity, because his heart soared when he saw how high up his medical bay was. He could see most of the Domain, and the few people who were still awake at this ungodly hour looked like ants from his window.
There was no way he could fail this time.
Drawing up every last bit of strength within his quickly weakening body, he propped himself onto the edge and threw himself over. No hesitation, no last thoughts. He had had too much of that already when he had been imprisoned in the medical bay. Maybe he had had too much of it even before then.
And as he plummeted towards the cold stone pavement below, he closed his eyes, content.
He was finally going home.
;
Prince Sidon slowly opened his eyes, groaning at the pain that racked his body. Such was to be expected after taking the spirit potion. It took a toll on him both mentally and physically, and he was exhausted beyond belief. Despite this, he smiled softly at the sight of his Hylian lover sitting beside him, his small body sunk into the water bed.
“Ah, Link.” he croaked. “I am happy to see you.”
The Hylian Champion smiled back, but the gesture didn’t reach his cold blue eyes. Even without his empathy ability, Sidon could tell that something was wrong. “Love?” he asked. “Has something happened? You can confide in me, you know.”
Link’s eyes darted to the side as the smile quickly stretched into a taut frown. “Yes, but… it isn’t something that has happened to me. Well I mean, it has, and I didn’t expect it to, but…” the Hylian’s voice trailed off, slowly coming to a stop as he buried his face in his hands and shook his head.
Grunting, Sidon tried to prop himself up so that he could rub Link’s back, but the Hylian glared at him and pushed his large body back down. “No, I’ll talk.” Link said, eyes softening. Tears were prickling at the corners of them. “Just lie there, okay? Don’t push yourself.”
Sidon nodded and leaned back into the water bed, letting out a relieved sigh. His lover carefully laid on top of him, relaxing his body when he could tell that it didn’t hurt the Zora prince. Link rubbed small circles on his arm and both of them laid in a comfortable silence.
Eventually, Sidon decided that it was time to begin other projects. He may have been knocked out for a whole week in agony due to a spirit potion, but nonetheless, he was still a prince. There were many things to be done. Sidon glanced to the doorway, surprised to not see his First Knight obediently guarding his room like usual. “Link,” he said, drawing the Hylian’s attention. “Where is Brivere? May you call-?”
He instantly stopped when he felt Link’s body stiffen on top of him at the sound of Brivere’s name. While the two of them were certainly not on good terms, the Hylian had never reacted like this before. “Link?” he asked. “What’s wrong? I know you two may not like each other, but-!”
“He’s dead, Sidon.”
Sidon just blinked. “…I beg your pardon?”
His lover pushed himself up on Sidon’s broad chest, revealing the tears that were threatening to flow out of his blue eyes. “Sidon…” Link said, voice cracking. “They found him outside of the infirmary. He jumped out of the window. I’m so sorry. I know you two were very close.”
Sidon felt numb. He asked the question that wasn’t gnawing at his mind, for he knew that if he asked the one that was actually eating him alive then it would just confirm it all. “Why was he in the infirmary?”
Link opened his mouth, but a strangled gasp was all that came out. He got off of Sidon and sat up on the water bed, rubbing his throat and wiping at his eyes. After a few strangled grunts, he turned back to the prince. “He tried to kill himself a few days ago too. Apparently they found him almost half dead in his poisoned cistern. Estuu was there too and…”
His blue eyes shut tightly. “He’s also dead.”
Not knowing what to say, Sidon numbly stared the ceiling. Tears flowed out of his eyes as he silently wept, the screams writhing around in his chest fighting for a way out. And eventually they won, turning Sidon’s heaving breathing into howls that shook the whole room.
He quickly sat up, ignoring the pain that erupted all over his body. “What in Hylia’s name happened?!”
Link stared back at him. “It’s my fault.”
“…What?”
“It’s…” the Hylian slammed his fists into his head, grabbing at his blond hair. “It’s my fucking fault, Sidon!”
Sidon just blinked at him. “No… gods, Link… what did you do?”
"I said a bunch of shit to him!” Link screamed back. “I shouldn’t have! I know I shouldn’t have! He literally tried it a few days ago and lost his little brother, and his legs, and his First Knight position!”
Dumbfounded, Sidon continued to stare back. “…how…”
“The goddamn poison! It was enough to kill Estuu but when they got Brivere out he was still alive! It damaged his legs, and he was dismissed!”
Sidon sat there, trembling. He had had no idea that Brivere had felt that way. But now that he looked back on it, he was absolutely furious with himself for not seeing it sooner, especially when he literally had the ability to read other people’s minds and emotions. His beloved friend… who had lost everything. His mother, his nobility status, his reputation, his pride, his home, his brother, his job… just, everything.
It should have been obvious.
The prince shuddered, remembering the last things he had said to Brivere. The cold way he had looked at the golden knight. The threat to remove Brivere from his position if he ever dared to say such things again, when the golden Zora was delirious, sick with the Water Blight. The empty promise of possibly considering rekindling their bond. It hit Sidon so hard that he crumpled into himself, hugging his knees so hard that he could feel them bruise.
Brivere had died thinking that Sidon hated him. That he had lost his only friend on top of everything else.
Slowly, the prince straightened up, glaring at Link, who was still tearing at his hair and mumbling to himself. “What did you say to him.” he said in an unsettlingly steady voice.
The Hylian jumped, staring back at him wide-eyed. “No… I, I didn’t mean to-!”
“What did you say to him?!” Sidon shouted.
After a pause, Link gulped, speaking in a weak voice barely above a whisper. “I… I said that he was selfish. That he hurt you. That he killed his brother, and that he was a coward. And then he said that I was a horrible person, that I am the lowest of the low… and I said that he was too, but you still chose me over him. I said he had nothing because he was nothing. And then… I left.”
The Hylian gasped for air, looking at Sidon with pleading eyes. “Sidon, I am so sorry, I didn’t mean to, I never wanted him to die-!”
“Get out.”
Link flinched at the coldness in the prince’s usually soft voice. “N-no… please, Sidon, don’t, im sor-!”
“GET OUT!” he roared, slamming his fist into the wall next to his bed. Link jumped off of the bed and backed up slowly, but quickly rushed out when he caught the deadly glare that Prince Sidon was giving him.
His chest was heaving, fury burning his body alive. “AND DO NOT DARE TO COME BACK!” he screamed at the entranceway. He didn’t even know if Link had heard it. He didn’t even care at this point. It had to be clear enough from the moment he had ordered him to leave.
Sidon crumpled back into himself, curling into a hopeless ball that sunk into the water bed. The room became filled with desperate gasps of air, in between heavy sobs and weeping. His mind was filled with apologies that would never be heard by the one person he wanted to say them to.
He couldn’t help but laugh hopelessly at the irony of the situation. Now he was the one who had nothing. He had lost his knight, the one Zora who had felt like a true friend among the many who just used the prince for his power and status. He lost his lover, his sister, his people were dying…
Sidon just wanted to go home, wherever that may be.
#brivere#estuu#coma baby#sidon#prince sidon#link#botw#breath of the wild#loz#legend of zelda#suicide#angst#double death#everyone is an asshole#there is no happiness in this world#TTTLE#trying to tie loose ends#catharsis
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