#and i just need to accept that :////

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Breath of the Sky Ch 11 (SS meets BotW)

Summary: When Princess Zelda goes to the Spring of Courage to pray, accompanied by her appointed knight, a giant magical cog spitting out a goddess is the last thing she expects, but it is what she gets. Meanwhile, the Spirit Maiden Zelda is trying to figure out what the heck is happening and where her missing chosen hero is.

(AO3 link)

Chapter 11: Fledgling Friendships

Zelda walked with haste, her mind so preoccupied with everything she’d just learned. She was caught in a confused haze, head whirling with too many words and images, to the point that she couldn’t focus on a single coherent train of thought. It felt like when she’d started to recover her memories – her mind had been so utterly overwhelmed with an entirely new life and revelation that she’d been practically catatonic for a few hours sometimes.

Speaking of being completely distracted, Zelda gasped in surprise when she nearly collided right into someone as she rounded the corner. The person had quick reflexes, taking a step back, and it took her a minute to recognize him.

It was that knight from before. The one with the Master Sword.

“Oh!” she said softly, eyes wide. “You’re—”

She paused, realizing several things at once. First, her interactions with him had been amidst a high amount of stress and emotions, meaning she’d been fairly rude, and second, she had absolutely no idea what his name was.

“U-uh…” she continued awkwardly. “I don’t think I ever actually got your name, sorry.”

The knight watched her carefully, face decidedly neutral as he blinked a few times, and then he said in a soft voice, “Link.”

Zelda stared.

Of course his name is Link, her mind whispered. Link and Zelda, here to save the world from Demise once again. What a cruel joke.

Had the Golden Goddesses even done anything to try to stop this? She barely remembered anything about them, even with all her recovered memories of a life past. Did they even care? Somehow she couldn’t figure it out – she felt like a part of her knew they were distantly invested, but she also reasoned out that they’d left her in charge of everything, which implied that they… weren’t paying attention anymore.

She didn’t even know. All she knew was that she was screwing up this conversation like she had the others.

“Right. Link.” She said, trying to gather her thoughts. “Um. I’m Zelda.”

The two stared at each other a moment, and then Zelda wanted to smack herself. Hastily, she shook her hands with an embarrassed laugh. “But you already—I mean—wow okay, I just—”

She sighed, cutting herself off. “I’m sorry. I’m—this is a lot. I wasn’t—I wasn’t prepared for any of this.”

The strange knight watched her, and his lack of reaction made her a little uneasy. His silence reminded her of her own Link, but her husband was so expressive, she could practically read his thoughts on his face. This one was very much the opposite.

What… had they done to him? Was he just like this? No one was naturally just like this.

“I guess it would be confusing to call me Zelda, what with the princess and all,” she said, trying to keep a conversation going. “But um… it’s nice to meet you. Formally, I mean. Because like… you know, we didn’t… I mean we met before, but I never got your name and there was a lot of stuff going on.”

The knight nodded subtly.

Zelda wondered if perhaps this was anxiety, or the same breeding as the other guards who had knelt and not even looked her in the eye. At least he was making eye contact.

Just as the thought crossed her mind, this Link also seemed to realize it, and his eyes widened as he clumsily fell to his knee.

Zelda had to laugh at the maneuver, feeling equal parts guilty and amused. “Hey, it’s okay, stop doing that. I’m… we’re going to be working together a lot, I think. Please. Can we just be friends?”

Slowly, the knight glanced up at Zelda, timidness evident in the way his eyebrows were raised and how he hid his eyes under his hair. Zelda smiled, crouching down to be at eye level with him, and the motion made him pull back just a hair, eyes widening.

“I promise I don’t bite,” Zelda laughed. “Well. I mean… okay, if you asked my husband he’d say I bite but—”

The knight’s face flushed, and Zelda realized what she’d just said, hastily tripping over herself to explain, “I mean—like—like as in I can be aggressive, but—oh my gosh, that’s not—I’m—”

Just shut up, you’re making it worse!

“Ugh, this is so stupid,” Zelda finally said aloud, smacking herself in the face and rising. “I’m sorry, let’s just try again. I want to be friends, okay?”

The knight watched her for what felt like an eternity before he slowly stood. It seemed like it was the best reaction she was going to get out of him.

“So anyway,” Zelda continued awkwardly. Trying to have a conversation with this teenager felt like pulling teeth. Her own Link (good grief, they’d need to find a way to differentiate) had been very quiet and shy when they’d first become friends, but he hadn’t been so understated on top of it. “I was looking for the princess. Do you know where she is?”

The knight shook his head.

Zelda hummed thoughtfully. “Well, maybe we can look for her together? You know this place better than me; I’d get absolutely lost.”

The knight swallowed, nodding slowly. When nothing else happened, Zelda motioned for them to start walking down the cavernous hallway. A few moments later she realized he wasn’t beside her. She glanced back to see if he’d just stayed put, but instead he was following her a few paces back.

"You know... the hallway's big enough we can walk beside each other. You don't have to walk behind me." She noted, waving the space beside her with a smile.

The swordsman took a shaky, fortifying breath before stepping ahead a little faster to catch up to her. He continuously glanced at her, though he kept his face decidedly neutral. Zelda had to chuckle at it – the poor thing was very anxious, wasn’t he?

Her smile faded, as she realized her earlier behavior was probably part of the reason. That and, well… all the other things.

“I’m sorry,” she reiterated. “I… remember how I said I only bite sometimes? When people I love are in danger… I mean… especially Link… I wasn’t thinking. I just reacted, you know? I’m sorry I was mean to you.”

The knight stopped abruptly, making Zelda skid to a halt. He immediately regretted his decision, awkwardly trying to resume their walk and then stopping again when Zelda didn’t move.

“What is it?” she asked.

The newer Link remained stubbornly silent. Zelda crossed her arms. “I know you can talk, Link.”

The knight shriveled subtly, looking at the floor.

Zelda watched him a while longer, confused. “What’s wrong?”

After another shuddering breath, the knight whispered, “It’s n-nothing, Your Grace. I beg your pardon for s-stopping.”

The assertive, stubborn part of Zelda swelled within her, wanting to grab this knight by the shoulders and shake him and say she wasn’t going to strike him down if he uttered a sound and that he needed to lighten up. But she held herself in check, smiling instead and holding a hand out as if to a scared child. “Well let’s keep going, then. Maybe you can tell me about the palace?”

This Link watched her hand hesitantly as the realization dawned on him, and he slowly raised his own hand in response. When his fingers delicately folded around hers, he made a motion to kneel again, and Zelda was reminded strikingly of her and Link’s conversation in the Temple of Hylia.

She quickly jerked him towards her once she had a grip on him, erasing that memory and any attempt to repeat it. The knight stumbled forward, face finally expressing terror and shock, before she caught him easily by the shoulder. Then she laughed. “That’s better! Let’s go.”

Having his hand in hers was a grounding force for Zelda, and she sighed in relief as they strolled through the hallway. His grip was stiff, though, reminding her that she really should try to ease his worries. She herself was filled with a thousand anxieties, but she didn’t want to scare him when he already seemed petrified.

She wondered how knowing his destiny had affected him. What he even expected his destiny to be.

She’d ask later. He was far too scared for such a conversation right now. And it delayed the inevitable for a while longer – befriending him meant she didn’t have to think about the king’s request… at least until she found the princess.

“So what’s your story, Link?” she asked. “My husband trained as a knight too, you know. A lot of us do on Skyloft. Was it kind of just expected for you too? My father’s the headmaster of the knight’s academy, what about your family?”

Before Link could even attempt to answer, his gaze drifted elsewhere, and Zelda tracked it to see one of the colorfully dressed guards ahead. He looked like he was heading somewhere rather than standing guard, but he quickly noticed them. For an instant his eyes were fixed on Link rather than Zelda, and then he knelt.

Wait, she recognized this guard. “Hey, you’re the guard who found us in Castle Town the other night!”

“I am, Your Grace,” he acknowledged.

For a split second there was a strange moment where the guard glanced up long enough to look somewhere between Zelda and the knight she was with, and then he looked at the ground once more.

“Thanks for the help that night,” Zelda said. “You know, with answering questions and all that.”

“It is my honor, Your Grace.”

He reminded Zelda of Impa. Her Impa. He held a very strong sense of duty and protocol but wasn’t groveling or petrified like the others. She liked him.

“Do you know where Princess Zelda is?” she asked. “Link and I were looking for her.”

“To my knowledge, Your Grace, the princess is in her quarters.”

Zelda looked around uncertainly. “Oh. Uh… do you know where that is?”

“I can take Your Grace there if you please.”

Zelda hummed thoughtfully, glancing at Link. “Do you know where it is?”

The knight swallowed and nodded.

With that settled, Zelda smiled at the guard. “We got it, thanks! I don’t want to bother you too much, I’m sure you have important duties to attend to.”

She knew better than to wait for an acknowledgement, given how everyone acted around her, so instead she tugged the swordsman along as they walked around the guard. The hallway seemed to be never ending, and it felt like the knight was dragging his feet the farther they went.

Zelda tried to ease his worries, as well as her own, by talking about anything but what she’d just discussed with the king. “So how long have you been here? Do you know the castle pretty well?”

“I can direct you, Your Grace,” came the hesitant and quiet answer.

“No, that’s not—I mean like have you been here long,” Zelda clarified.

“A few years, Your Grace.”

“Oh! So you must be pretty familiar with all this,” Zelda said cheerily. “I could never – this place is so huge. Skyloft isn’t nearly this big. It’s just… it’s really amazing seeing what our settlement turns into. I never imagined it would be this big.”

When Link didn’t comment, Zelda changed tactics. “So how long will it take to get to the princess’ quarters? I feel like you could spend a couple days just going from one side of the castle to the other.”

The swordsman stilled, eyes downcast. Zelda watched him confusedly for a moment, prompting, “What’s wrong?”

“We’re…” he muttered. “We’re going the wrong way, Your Grace.”

Zelda blinked. Then she laughed. “Well, why didn’t you tell me, silly!”

As the pair got turned around, Zelda finally decided she really did need to address the skytail in the room. “Look. I… I understand this is weird, you know? With the ceremony, with how I acted before… but… I’m… we’re going to be working together and…”

Zelda paused, feeling vulnerable and not entirely sure she liked it. But if it meant this knight would stop acting so weird, she was willing to speak a little on the matter. “This place is overwhelming to me. I’m… I’m scared too. Please don’t think that just because your people worship means that I actually am an infallible goddess. I’m just me, I promise.”

Despite her words, she got little reaction from the knight. Sighing, she looked away, but then she felt the slightest squeeze in her hand, and she belatedly realized it was Link trying to give her something to work with.

She looked back at the knight and smiled. “Well… I guess we should keep looking. Maybe you should lead the way, though.”

The knight nodded, walking ahead with her hand still in his. With their objective made clear, Zelda found herself just as silent as her companion, no longer really able to push off the thoughts that were nagging her earlier. She instead redirected her attention to examining the knight. He really held little to no resemblance to her own Link – he was thinner in build, a little shorter, his hair was lighter and longer and less fluffy, and his demeanor was practically entirely opposite. Yet… there was something about him that made her watch him, something eerily familiar and practically magnetic.

Not to mention the sword that rested on his back.

Zelda felt the wind get knocked out of her just looking at the blade. It was still distressing realizing that after everything…

Why? Why? She had planned it all so meticulously, even had backup plans – for heaven’s sake, Link was the backup plan. He wasn’t even supposed to be involved if it wasn’t necessary.

Yet everything had failed. Everything.

She had failed in the original war. She’d only sealed him away, and at a terrible cost. She’d failed in the new plan, to obtain the Triforce herself, if possible, rather than involve Link. She’d failed in the backup plan, where Link was supposed to be the one to fix things while she held the seal.

Tears stung in her eyes, and she hastily wiped them away before anyone could notice. Why did Demise have to be a reality they still had to contend with? Why couldn’t they just… have a kingdom and be happy? Surely there were enough problems in the world without a demon king adding to them?

Perhaps it serves as a unifying thing, she thought listlessly, a small glimmering of hope latching to it. Everyone can get behind defeating pure evil.

If that were the case, though… if the entire world was unified in supporting this knight and the princess… why did he seem so broken and afraid?

She supposed it was a silly question. She herself had been terrified on her journey. But she’d had Impa. Link had Fi.

Who did this boy have? Surely he had everyone, right? Was he just naturally this timid? Or was it because she was viewed as Hylia by all?

Zelda’s musings were interrupted when they stopped in front of a door. The knight hesitantly raised his free hand to knock and then paused, glancing at her and waiting for her to give some kind of signal.

Smiling, she pushed ahead and knocked gently on the door. When she got no response, she started to open it, curious if the princess was even there. The pair slowly shuffled into the room, both a little sheepish (one far more so than the other), and then paused in the entranceway.

The soft snoring from the bed was immediately familiar. The two lumps in the bed told her the rest.

Zelda snorted out a laugh. Of course Link had somehow found his way here to sleep. She was surprised the princess was asleep in the middle of the day though. Her heart warmed with endearment as she whispered, “I guess some traits did make it through all the generations.”

Apparently Princess Zelda was as much of a sleepyhead as Link was.

She honestly didn’t want to wake them. She was certainly curious how Link had found his way here and how much he had talked to the princess before they’d both settled in for a nap, but she also didn’t want to disturb the moment. She definitely didn’t want to address the issue that had brought her here.

But there was honestly little point in avoiding it. Sighing, she pulled out some feathers from her pouch she’d been carrying with her, handing one to the knight. As she did so, she saw his stupefied expression as he stared at the pair in the bed, eyes wide and face pale.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. “Are you okay?”

The swordsman jumped, startled, and glanced at her, bemusement apparent. His cheeks flushed, and he glanced between her and the bed.

Zelda stared, completely baffled. A thought slowly coalesced in her mind, picturing all the stiff protocol she’d seen so far. “Is this something to do with manners or something? Because she’s an important figure?”

The swordsman blinked, and despite his efforts for his stoicism, the disbelief was apparent on his face.

“You’re an important figure too, so it shouldn’t be a big deal to be in here, right?” Zelda questioned confusedly. “I mean… you didn’t have any issues leading me here.”

The knight’s brow furrowed.

“You were with her earlier,” Zelda threw out the observation with a shrug. “What’s the problem?”

When she got no response, she handed the feather over to him. “Here. I’ll wake up Link, you wake up the princess.”

Zelda went to the bed without sparing him another glance, bending over and inching the feather close to her beloved’s nose. Link was curled into the blankets, his face barely visible, but she still managed to maneuver the weapon into place. As she tickled under his nose, she giggled when he scrunched it in response, his brow furrowing. Link groaned slightly, slinking away and bumping into the princess’ back. Zelda smirked, having already started to wake him up, and decided drastic measures were required. Leaping into the air, she landed on the bed, bouncing right beside her husband as he yelped and kicked in all directions, landing a hit on both his wife and the bedpost.

“Ouch!” they both yelled as the princess squealed and fell right out of the bed with a loud thud.

Gasping, Zelda crawled over Link to look over at the floor, where the knight had also rushed to the princess’ side. “Are you okay?”

The princess was panting for air as if she’d run across all of Skyloft ten times over. Zelda felt a little guilty – she supposed she shouldn’t have startled the girl. She was just having some fun with Link.

“Sorry,” Zelda said, making the princess freeze. The girl looked up at her, horror in her eyes, and then she registered the knight in front of her and squeaked, pulling a blanket off the bed to wrap herself in it. In doing so, she yanked both Zelda and Link, making them tumbled over each other, but the princess didn’t have enough strength to actually get the cloth out from under them.

The knight rose to his feet awkwardly, brow pinched as he looked between the three.

“Zelda,” Link whined from underneath Zelda. Both she and the princess looked at him, and it was at that moment that Zelda realized they really needed to work out a naming system for everyone.

In the meantime, she said, “It’s time to get up, sleepyheads!”

Despite her cheer and Link’s good-natured grumbling, the princess seemed absolutely… mortified. She looked at the knight in horror, cheeks as red as Groose’s hair, and she pulled her nightgown more tightly around her, burying her face in her knees.

Zelda looked between the pair. She was definitely missing something. The knight turned around to look a different direction, staring pointedly at the wall.

Honestly, they were acting as if they’d stumbled in on the princess bathing or something.

Oh. Wait. Was… was finding her sleeping bad in this era?

Just as Zelda was about to ask, the princess rose and rushed towards some stairs, disappearing quickly. Zelda and Link exchanged confused glances. Before she could go after the girl, though, Link followed her, leaving her and the knight alone in the bedroom.

“That was weird,” Zelda muttered. “Is… did we do something wrong?”

The knight turned slightly, eying her in profile. From this vantage point, his neutral glance looked more questioning.

“Seriously, though,” Zelda pressed on. “I… you guys act so differently from us. What’s wrong?”

Eventually, the knight seemed to realize she was genuinely asking, and he faced her fully. “It’s… not proper to see someone undressed like that. Or in bed with... B-but—that just doesn't apply to Your Grace, I—”

Here the knight’s mouth snapped shut, like he was trying to explain but was fumbling too much to try and continue. Zelda watched him a moment longer, thinking about it, and then sighed. “Oh. Oops. I’m sorry.”

The room was dead silent, and then Zelda continued, staring at her lap. “It’s just… so different here. I didn’t mean any offense or anything. I didn’t mean to upset her, or you.”

She sighed, glancing up, and smiled despite the knight’s seemingly neutral reaction. “Well, maybe we shouldn’t linger in here, then. If it’s going to upset her and all. Can you show me where the gardens are? There were tiny birds there that I liked.”

The knight glanced at the stairs, as if to express his concern for the princess, and Zelda hopped off the bed, waving her hand. “Don’t worry about the princess. Link will talk to her.”

You’re avoiding the actual conversation you need to have, a voice whispered in her mind, but she ignored it. She didn't want to further upset the princess, after all. She'd let Link smooth it over; the pair had seemed to have bonded a little, at least. She could learn about the knight instead. He had the Master Sword. He was important too.

“Show me the way to the garden,” she asked, holding out her hand. “And tell me about yourself! I’ll tell you about me.”

The knight watched her before quickly taking her hand, as if he didn’t do so fast enough he’d be in trouble. She frowned at it. “Remember I said we could be friends, right?”

The knight stared at her. Zelda sighed. This was going to take some work. But she’d figure it out.

XXX

The stone stairs in the room led to a hallway that connected to a separate tower. Link had to marvel at the size of this place all over again. The room downstairs alone could act as a house for most on Skyloft.

Never mind the scale, however – something was upsetting the girl, the princess. What was her name again?

Oh, he abruptly remembered. Oh.

Princess Zelda was seated on the ground of the hallway between the stairs and the tower, knees tucked under her chin. Her head barely peeked over the stone railing. A gentle breeze blew by, rustling her soft silky robe and dress, rustling hair into Link’s face as he carelessly brushed it aside.

Approaching her hesitantly, Link asked, “Are you okay?”

The princess jumped, startled at his approach and his words. “Am I—what are you doing out here, you can’t see me like this! Nobody but servants and my family—”

She stopped abruptly. Link stared at her. The word family bounced around in his mind again, feeling so foreign and magical, bizarre and otherworldly, exciting and terrifying.

This girl was his family. Separated by countless years, yes, but family nonetheless. Link… hadn’t had that in a very long time. At least not by blood.

“You’re—I mean—don’t you understand how improper that was?!” the princess tried again, burying her face in her knees. “I can’t do anything right.”

“Improper?” Link repeated, tilting his head to the side. “Why?”

“Why?” the princess repeated, baffled as she looked at him once more. “What do you—because it’s—I’m dressed too—and I was in bed with—and—”

She lost either her nerve or her ability to articulate at this point, shaking her head and plopping her forehead on her knees once more. Link watched her a moment longer, unsure, and moved to sit beside her when she jumped, seeming to realize something.

“I don’t—I’m sorry to be rude,” she said hastily. “I-it isn’t my intent to be disrespectful or anything, it’s just—I—isn’t it improper for you too? Why were you in my bed?!”

Link furrowed his brow. Her tone had changed, as if she’d gone from mortified to scared. What was she afraid of?

…Was she afraid of him?

Link bit his lip uncertainly, plopping himself onto the ground beside her. What reason did she have to be afraid of him? Was it because of the big fuss her people made the other night? If the words they spoke in their fairytale rendering of his journey were what they truly believed, then they really didn’t understand the full magnitude of the situation.

They didn’t understand that this was his fault. They shouldn’t be showing him any kind of respect. Link hadn’t done his job, apparently.

Demise was still alive.

The thought both chilled him to his core and enraged him. He wanted to hunt him down now, he wanted to kill him now, he wanted to run away and hide in a corner and beg Fi to wake up and tell him what the hell he was supposed to do. None of this had been part of the plan.

Not like he’d been privileged to the plan anyway.

Link shook his head, ridding his mind of the unexpectedly bitter thought. He needed to focus on the princess, not his own issues.

“I’m sorry you’re upset,” he offered quietly.

“Link saw me in bed! And I was in bed with a stranger—well, you’re not a stranger, but—but you’re the Hero of Myth and Legend! The rumors that will fly—” the princess shook her head, her hands reached to her scalp and dug through her hair anxiously.

Was that what was bothering her? Rumors? “You shouldn’t worry about what others think of you. Besides, what are they going to say?”

“We were in bed together!”

“And?”

The princess stared at him again, a baffled expression on her face. “Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

Link squinted, wondering what in the world she was getting at. “…No?? Beds are for sleeping, and that’s what we did?”

The princess stared at him and seemed to give up, sighing and looking away.

“Who cares about rumors, anyway?” Link said, shrugging.

“It matters what people say about me,” the princess muttered. “You don’t have an entire kingdom relying on you.”

Link paused, feeling the heaviness in her words. He… didn’t really have a way to fathom it. The highest authoritative figure he knew was the headmaster, and Gaepora had never really cared if students didn’t like him. He wasn’t a bad man, but he did what he thought was best whether the students liked it or not. Besides, what if he had listened to popular opinion? What if he’d listened to Groose when he whined that Link wasn’t good enough for the academy?

Before Link could really ponder the matter more, the princess jolted and looked back at him and shook her head. “I—I didn’t mean—”

“No, you’re right,” Link cut in. “I don’t have that many people relying on me like that, I guess. I can’t even think about it. Just based on how many people I saw at the party… you have a lot depending on you.”

The princess bit her lip, looking down before returning his gaze. “You did too, I suppose. I shouldn’t assume that my problems are greater than yours, that just because I’m incapable in my duty that yours was somehow lesser.”

“Incapable in your duty?” Link repeated. “Is today really that bad?”

The princess sighed wearily. “No, it’s… it’s not that. I’m sorry.”

Silence filled the air, only interrupted by the wind whistling past flags and between the stone teeth cut into the railing above them. Link shifted uncomfortably; usually he wasn’t bothered by silence, but the anxious and dejected air about the girl was unfitting and he wanted to fix it. He tried changing tactics.

“Your name is Zelda, right?” Link asked, and the princess nodded. “That’s… so weird.”

At the princess’ bemused and embarrassed look, Link hastily added, “N-not in a bad way! It’s just… my wife’s name is Zelda too. I’m going to get you two confused if I say Zelda and you’re both with me!”

“She goes by Zelda?” the princess questioned.

“Yes,” Link immediately answered firmly. “She… she went by Hylia before, but ever since her, uh… her rebirth, she prefers to go by Zelda. It’s who she is now.”

“That’s so… fascinating,” Princess Zelda whispered, glancing off to Link’s left at nothing in particular.

“Well, either way, it’s going to be confusing,” Link said, dismissing the focus on his wife’s past. He didn’t entirely understand it still, but he knew it bothered her. He’d seen her discomfort during the feast, so he wasn’t going to encourage the behavior to continue. “Do you have a nickname? She doesn’t. Or—wait, your dad has like fifty names, right? Do you have more names?”

The princess stared at him a moment and then burst out laughing. Then her hands flew to her mouth, her cheeks as red as his loftwing. “I—I’m sorry, n-no, I don’t.”

Link thought about it a moment. “What about Zellie?”

The princess stared at him. “Zellie?”

Link shrugged. He wasn’t going to call her something she didn’t like, but she wasn’t coming up with anything, so he figured he’d just throw it out there. The princess watched him a moment longer, her gaze growing distant as a small smile played at her lips.

Closing her eyes, she seemed to try to center herself. “My mother used to call me that.”

Oh. Maybe a bit too personal, then. Link was about to say so when the princess said, “I like it.”

Link smiled. “Ok. Zellie, it is.” Then he grew somber as he remembered not seeing a female king (was there a term for that?) at the feast. “What… happened to your mother?”

“She died when I was six,” the princess answered. Her tone was neutral, polite, but he could tell in the way she was squeezing her hands that it still bothered her.

Link watched her for a moment longer and then looked away. “I’m sorry. I lost my dad around that time too.”

He heard her turn her head to look at him. “You had a dad?”

Link whipped his head to stare at her. “Yes??”

Then he remembered their story from the other night and he laughed. “I—I wasn’t made from a cloud, you know! I was born to parents just like you!”

The princess’ face flushed bright red. “I—”

Link waved a hand as he giggled. “It’s okay, it’s what you were taught. I just—”

He couldn’t continue, falling apart into a fit of laughter. Maybe he should have just said he actually was made from clouds; it would have been funnier.

I’ll do it next time someone asks.

“So… how did Hylia… I mean, did she even…” Zellie shifted to face him more fully. “What happened?”

Link’s laughter died down, reality sinking into him once more. He cleared his throat a little uncomfortably. “Uh… she… I mean, she chose me, but…”

“Is Hylia your… your mother…?” the princess asked, her face pinched in a manner that showed she was disgusted at the thought but trying not to show it.

“Ew, no!” Link immediately exclaimed. His reaction caused the princess to flinch, but the girl also looked relieved at the words. “My mother was a craftswoman, she worked in the bazaar.”

“What did she make?”

Link stared off and shrugged, looking back at her somewhat apologetically. “I… don’t remember what my dad said she made, honestly. He’s been gone so long, and… she died giving birth to me. I never knew her.”

She looked sad. “I’m sorry. To never know what having a mother is like… I can’t imagine.”

“What was your mother like?”

Zellie stared at her hands as her legs slowly slid out and straightened. “She was… wise. Beautiful. Caring and so gentle. She always seemed to know what to do.”

The princess bit her lip, somehow growing even more somber.

“I’m sorry,” Link said quietly. “She sounds like a good mother.”

“Oh, how I wish she could have met you and the goddess,” Zellie said, a sad smile playing at her lips. “I imagine she would have loved it. And… yes. She would have loved it.”

“She probably is loving it,” Link nudged her with his shoulder, giving her a reassuring smile. “Wherever she is. She’s probably laughing and thinking it’s silly that you were upset earlier.”

Zellie huffed. “It isn’t silly! My position is important, and maintaining dignity is part of it. I’m not like you, I…”

The princess cut herself off, rising abruptly, before she jolted and crouched beneath the railing to stay out of sight. It was… rather silly to watch. Link felt a little bad for her.

“Why aren’t you like me?” he asked.

Zellie continued to face away from him in her awkward crouch, and her shoulders drooped as she sighed. “Oh, this is all wrong. I shouldn’t be speaking to you this way, I apologize.”

“Why? What other way should you be speaking to me?” Link queried, wondering if she’d ever turn around. “I’m just me.”

“You’re the Hero. Created by Hylia—or, well, chosen by Hylia, I guess, but—you defeated the Calamity! You’re—” Zellie finally did turn, struggling for words. “I should be showing so much more respect to you. I’m sorry.”

“Please don’t be sorry,” Link immediately assuaged her worries, giving her a gentle smile. “I don’t like being talked to like I’m some fairytale. I’m a person, just like you.”

“I’m a princess.”

“So does that mean you’re not a person?”

“No! No, it’s just…” Zellie sighed, unsure how to continue. Then she huffed. “What you did the other night was just because you wanted to, wasn’t it? It had nothing to do with dominance.”

Dominance?? “Huh?”

“When you sat on the throne with the goddess.”

“I felt like I was going to pass out,” Link explained sheepishly. “I needed to sit. Also, Zel looked upset.”

The princess stared at him. Blinked. And then she let out a shaky breath. “You… oh, you’re still sick, that’s right.”

“No,” Link argued. “I was overwhelmed. I’ve never seen so many people, especially not all staring at me.”

“You… were scared?”

Link bit his tongue a moment. He’d gotten into the habit of saying he wasn’t scared, of saying things didn’t bother him. He’d had to. But… he felt like honesty was needed here. “…Yeah. Yeah, I was.”

If you wish to be of help to Her Grace, you must summon a shred of courage and face the trails laid out before you.

Goddesses above. He’d thought he had helped. Instead, he’d cursed everything and everyone.

Link felt sick. He felt so, so sick. His words hung in the air, held heavily in place in the stillness and silence. The words were swept away, however, when he heard a strange sound from far beneath them, like mechanical whirring and large footsteps. Curious, he rose and looked down over the railing to see a giant robot with legs akin to a skulltulla, its head swiveling as it people stood around it. The princess stood and peeked over, eyes barely above the railing, and she smiled.

“That’s a guardian,” she said eagerly.

Link felt his blood run cold at the word, and he shook his head. Clearly, this was something different than that. “O-oh?”

“They were made long ago by the Sheikah,” Zellie explained. “They helped defeat the Calamity ten thousand years ago. We’re hoping to reutilize them.”

“They still work?” Link questioned, squinting at them and thinking of all the broken down robots in Lanayru. “Or are you using timeshift stones?”

Zellie whipped her had to look at him. “Timeshift stones? What are those?”

Apparently not. “They control time within a certain radius. It’s… how I got here, I think.”

The princess slid to the ground again to stay hidden from the rest of the world, her brow furrowed. “You came here using a timeshift stone?”

“It… was an accident,” Link offered feebly with a shrug as he sat beside her again. “I was in a mine full of them and there was an explosion.”

“You… you came here by accident?”

“Uh… yeah.” Now Link was starting to feel guilty. Had… had they all actually thought he and Zel had come here on purpose? What was their thought process with that?

We seek your care and protection and favors, And hope you grant them through your sages.

The prayer from the other night lingered in his mind once more, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. Did… did they…?

Oh goddesses.

He shut that train of thought down so quickly he could practically hear the door slam closed in his mind. This was just an adventure. This was fine. He was fine.

You can’t avoid your own failure, a voice whispered that sounded annoyingly like Impa.

His thoughts weren’t wrong, though. What was he going to do? If he’d kept avoiding the matter on his own adventure, Zel would be dead, Demise would have won, the world would have ended.

Why hadn’t it been enough? Why hadn’t he been enough?

“I hadn’t planned on being here,” Link said quietly, refusing to make eye contact, dragging the words out of him. “But… I think maybe the goddesses had. To help you.”

The princess was quiet a moment before saying softly, “I suppose Link will appreciate the help.”

Link? He was Link. What?

Goddess. That knight. “His… his name is Link too?”

“Well, yes,” Zellie answered matter-of-factly. “Many boys are named Link because of you.”

Nope. This was getting to be too much again. Link rose abruptly, growing dizzy. Words left him, and he hummed when Zellie also shot to her feet and held a hesitant hand out to stabilize him.

I suppose Link will appreciate the help. Ha! As if someone who seemed so capable could possibly need a failure’s assistance. He had Fi now. Link wasn’t needed. He was replaced.

Well, of course you were, this is a bajillion years in the future, idiot, he thought. Then he sighed. It didn’t matter. Whether there was a Chosen Hero or not… he’d…

He’d failed. He’d failed.

“I… I think he’s down there with Her Grace.”

Glancing over the railing, he saw Zel and the knight looking at the guardian. Fi was strapped securely on the knight’s back as if she belonged there.

Because she did.

He’d gotten sick earlier just looking at him, just thinking about all the ways he’d gone wrong, all the ways he’d dumped his failures onto the knight’s shoulders. It was no wonder the knight acted as if he were the scum of the earth.

He was.

Link wanted nothing more than to jump down there and be with his wife. He wanted nothing more than to go home and pretend he hadn’t learned about any of this. But how could he possibly avoid the truth of the future he’d doomed?

I suppose Link will appreciate the help. No. No, he wouldn’t. There was no way Link could help this knight.

You’ve already failed before and still gotten back up, he reminded himself. You completely failed Zelda and still…

Still what? Succeeded? Triumphed? Clearly not.

Link just… needed to be alone. He needed to get away. He pointedly looked away from Zelda and the knight, looked away from the princess who was watching him, and turned on his heel, disappearing down the stairs and letting his feet take him anywhere, anywhere to get him out of there.

XXX

“Wow,” Hylia breathed as she looked at the guardian. “These things are incredible. And so big!”

Link watched her hesitantly, still trying to get his heart rate under control. Despite the goddess’ casual demeanor, he still wasn’t quite able to shake the fact that he was talking to a goddess. There had to be some kind of protocol he was completely messing up, but she hadn’t shown offense and had insisted on casual interaction.

Of course, he wasn’t entirely sure what she considered casual interaction, so it was best to just stay silent unless prompted. And even then… goddess. He didn’t know what to do.

Goddess! Maybe he shouldn’t invoke her while he was thinking about her.

This entire day had been one disaster after another. First he’d been so distracted he’d nearly gotten himself injured while sparring with Mipha, worrying his dearest friend, and then he’d run into the Hero and had somehow—well. He didn’t know. He didn’t know.

Running into Hylia herself had not been in the plans for the day. He’d just wanted to find Zelda and talk to her. He’d just needed someone to parse his thoughts and worries with.

Of course running into the princess while she was in bed with a man was how this day was going to go. The impropriety of it all—the one good thing was that the only witnesses seemed completely clueless that it was wrong. Not to mention, if Hylia casually talked about running into the princess in bed alongside her immortal spouse and her current Hero, no one would question anything about it.

That didn’t make it any less embarrassing, though. And he felt bad for Zelda, too. The girl worried so much about protocols and how she was perceived.

“So they helped defeat De—Calamity Ganon in the past?”

Link nodded. Again, he wondered how she didn’t know this. How she didn’t know anything. He didn’t dare question it, didn’t dare try to parse out how a goddess of time wasn’t aware of what had happened through the ages. That felt sacrilegious to even think about, let alone ask her. Despite how seemingly normal she was trying to act, how much he truly wanted to ask about it, he wouldn't dare.

He had planned on asking Zelda, though. But he supposed it was a moot point now.

Link stared at the goddess longer than he probably should have, but… her attire caught his attention. She’d been wearing it when she’d first appeared. It was just like the Hero’s, like the ancient traditional garb from the stories and tapestries. He wondered if the Hero’s attire was fashioned after her own, then, when she’d created him. It looked nothing like the statues, and it was far more practical.

It was a uniform. It was armor. He could see the chainmail. Hylia wasn’t just a gentle, benign goddess. She was a warrior. It was an aspect of her that he’d never really known or realized, and he wasn’t entirely sure what to make of it.

If she’d been a warrior, too, why had she needed a Hero? Or was it ceremonial? Was she a goddess of knights and soldiers and he hadn’t known? Maybe that was why she didn’t know what was happening – maybe she wasn’t a goddess of time at all.

Somehow, imagining her as a goddess of knights made her more approachable than a goddess of time, but he had to remind himself that she was still a deity nonetheless. He shook his head subtly.

Hylia turned on her heel, a hand to her chin as she hummed thoughtfully. “Okay. So in the past the guardians, divine beasts, a hero and a princess defeated Ganon. They didn’t use the Triforce at all. But that still doesn’t fix the problem. He just keeps getting sealed away.”

Hylia narrowed her eyes at the ground, and her face grew stormy. Link swore he could feel the atmosphere chill at the sight of it.

“Damn that demon,” she swore softly. “Damn him.”

Link swallowed, shifting uncomfortably in place.

Hylia sighed, seeming to remember he was there. “Sorry. We… he just… it’s a lot to take in. I know that you’re looking to me for help. I’ll… we’ll figure it out.”

Figure it out? Did she not know what to do? Hylia herself didn’t know what to do?

Link had so many questions.

"I wonder if Fi still has any of him sealed away in the blade,” Hylia thought aloud, staring at Link. "Or... perhaps since she's drawn... that's the part of him that broke away?"

Fi? Was he supposed to know who that was? Link looked back at her, fear making his palms sweat, wondering if she was expecting a response. Great go—good grief, he sincerely missed the days when the pressure on him was just to fight and destroy, not to provide answers and information.

Hylia stared at him too long, and he felt his mouth go dry. Was he supposed to say something?

“You must be a very good knight,” Hylia commented. “You seem to take your duty very seriously.”

Link’s heart skipped a beat. He felt pride swell in him while simultaneously being crushed down by the expectations behind it. It was an honor, truly, but…

Hylia laughed suddenly, poking him so hard he nearly fell over. “But lighten up a little, Link! I understand this is serious business, but it doesn’t have to be all the time!”

Link gasped as he took a few steps back to catch himself. Hylia’s mirth faded, a worried expression crossing her face.

“There’s just… it’s scary,” she said softly. “And we have to focus and fix this and stuff. I get that. It was like that on my journey too. But… you can’t always be scared. You shouldn’t be. There was so much to enjoy when I was finding my path. I hope… I hope we can do the same, you know?”

“You’re scared?” the words spilled out of his mouth before he could catch them, and he knew, he knew he was going to die right there on the spot. What was he thinking, questioning a goddess—

“Yeah,” Hylia replied immediately. “Yeah, I am. I’m… sorry if that scares you too. But it’s true. I… we… we were supposed to protect you from this. I don’t understand why it didn’t work. Link beat him. I got my spirit back. We won.”

Got her spirit back? What did that mean? And…

Link stared at Hylia, watched her as she hugged herself and looked at the ground, on the verge of tears. She looked so alone.

He couldn’t not do something.

Reaching out, he put a hand on her shoulder, catching her attention, and said, “We’ll figure it out. I promise.”

Hylia held his gaze, and for the millionth time that day he felt like he was going to die on the spot. What the actual hell did I just say oh Golden Three above—

Hylia smiled, eyes shining, and she wrapped him in a tight hug. “Thanks. You’re right. We’ll figure it out.”

Link stood awkwardly in the hug, not really able to return it, but she was squeezing him so tightly he was fairly certainly he’d pop something out of joint if he tried to move anyway. It… felt good, actually.

Well… the goddess had initiated it. So it wasn’t bad, right?

Hylia let him go with a sigh. “I guess I should actually go talk to the princess now. I figure Link’s calmed her down, at least. Maybe you can talk to him?”

Link froze. Oh. Oh, no.

“Come on!” Hylia said with a laugh, dragging him out of the courtyard. “Let’s go find them.”

[inkskinned]

she's singing in another room and my dog is asleep at my feet. my grandma asked me why i haven't found a man yet and i laughed. oh, you know. i like my house clean.

my girlfriend is also my man is also "my partner" if i'm in a professional setting. yesterday we went to a ren faire and a man mimed at me - you're together? and at my delighted nod, his baffled, you're gay? made me laugh. a woman with rainbow hair said i love the two of you together. you're both so beautiful it's absurd.

my dad introduced my partner as my "..... friend. or whatever" the other day. he knows we're dating. in the same way, i was never able to get my sister's husband to stop saying that's gay like it's 2008. he still uses the word fa***t, and my sister's defense of him has always been well, he's just kidding.

my lover and i dance to old music in a tiny kitchen. we judge new music together and take food critique very seriously. we watch love is blind before we fall asleep and agree that if they had a queer season, it would be bloody but also make for excellent tv. of fucking course queer people would know someone for only 2 weeks and agree to get married. what are you saying.

at a bar with friends, a man puts his hand on my wrist. got a boyfriend? and yes, i do have a boyfriend, she's amazing. i am texting her while i wander around a gas station named after geese. i am visiting a swing state for a wedding. in the candy aisle i overhear: she's actually like a lesbian it's disgusting. two teenage girls with packaged sandwiches in their hands, giggling. no literally, like. i'm not, like. okay with her being there while we're all, like, naked and changing.

my girlfriend and i tailgate, drink gin and cider out of cups. from the frat group beside us, a man corrects himself with one of his friends: bro, i mean, nonbinary entity, and it makes everyone around him laugh, myself included. he razzes his friend the same way i would have killed for at 19 years old - like nothing happened, he continues: you apply sunscreen like an alien. he does a little sassy (and fairly accurate) dance interpretation of the motion. his friend is laughing so hard they're crying.

i am lucky, i live in a safe neighborhood in a safe state. my masc passenger princess comes up from DC. i drive her for an hour to where all the leaves are a violent arrangement of color. we walk along the trails, letting autumn into our blood. in this part of the state, there's a lot of pickup trucks and trump signs. when we chastely kiss before getting into the car, i accidentally make eye contact with a woman holding her child's wrist. she looks disgusted. she looks fucking pissed.

two hours later my girl and i are eating dinner on a patio, soaking in the last warmth of new england sun before the chill of winter sets in. we are giggling and trying to talk through plastic vampire teeth. at another table, i see a young woman sit up straighter. i watch her watch us. she blushes and takes her partner's hand from across the table. shy, like the taste of evening has just become something deeper.

it's worth it for this moment, i think. my lover is still humming the same song she's been singing for four days straight and i don't want to kill her for it. her guitar is beside my bed. her toothbrush is in my bathroom. in a few moments i will make us lunch. we are lucky enough to have found each other. it is lucky enough to be in love.

[giantkillerjack]

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

[plain-text version of this post can be found under the cut]

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

Plain-text version:

Today my therapist introduced me to a concept surrounding disability that she called "hLep".

Which is when you - in this case, you are a disabled person - ask someone for help ("I can't drink almond milk so can you get me some whole milk?", or "Please call Donna and ask her to pick up the car for me."), and they say yes, and then they do something that is not what you asked for but is what they think you should have asked for ("I know you said you wanted whole, but I got you skim milk because it's better for you!", "I didn't want to ruin Donna's day by asking her that, so I spent your money on an expensive towing service!") And then if you get annoyed at them for ignoring what you actually asked for - and often it has already happened repeatedly - they get angry because they "were just helping you! You should be grateful!!"

And my therapist pointed out that this is not "help", it's "hLep".

Sure, it looks like help; it kind of sounds like help too; and if it was adjusted just a little bit, it could be help. But it's not help. It's hLep.

At its best, it is patronizing and makes a person feel unvalued and un-listened-to. Always, it reinforces the false idea that disabled people can't be trusted with our own care. And at its worst, it results in disabled people losing our freedom and control over our lives, and also being unable to actually access what we need to survive.

So please, when a disabled person asks you for help on something, don't be a hLeper, be a helper! In other words: they know better than you what they need, and the best way you can honor the trust they've put in you is to believe that!

P.S. Also, I want to be very clear that the "getting angry at a disabled person's attempts to point out harmful behavior" part of this makes the whole thing WAY worse. Like it'd be one thing if my roommate bought me some passive-aggressive skim milk, but then they heard what I had to say, and they apologized and did better in the future - our relationship could bounce back from that. But it is very much another thing to have a crying shouting match with someone who is furious at you for saying something they did was ableist. Like, Christ, Jessica, remind me to never ask for your support ever again! You make me feel like if I asked you to call 911, you'd order a pizza because you know I'll feel better once I eat something!!

Edit: crediting my therapist by name with her permission - this term was coined by Nahime Aguirre Mtanous!

Edit again: I made an optional follow-up to this post after seeing the responses. Might help somebody. CW for me frankly talking about how dangerous hLep really is.

[soldierandawar]

Eddie is such a good father. It takes a good parent to give their child the space they need but still invite someone in who can be a safe space so that Christopher is talking to someone. Giving your child that time speaks volumes of who he is as a person and a father.

He doesn’t want to bust the door down he wants Christopher to open it. He wants the privilege of being allowed back in and he recognizes that he needs to earn it. That he cannot force it upon him. Until then he’s going to do what he can to provide Christopher the support and trust that he probably feels like he’s missing from his dad right now.

[heavenbarnes]

need our simon to come home from deployment IMMEDIATELY 🫶🏼 | p1 p2 p3 p4

your older bf!simon comes home from deployment at dinner time on a tuesday.

herb alpert on the kitchen radio, knife tearing through a bunch of parsley, garlic and onion simmering on the stove behind you.

simon can hear it- smell it through the mail flap.

smells like home.

your ears prick at the sound of the door swinging open, the hinges alerting you to a secondary presence. back tensing for just a moment before you hear steps you could pick out in a lineup.

he sees your fluffy slippers first, then your little shorts, then his t-shirt. finally, he’s met with wide eyes and the kitchen light hits the curve of your face so nicely.

simon could cry.

you already were.

“oh my god, si”

he doesn’t really want to touch you with his outside clothes, tactical gear smelling like the back of a cargo plane and you’re so soft and lovely he’s afraid he might mess it all up.

but there’s nothing stopping the way you leap at him across the kitchen and swing your entire self around him and he’s forgetting what he’s wearing and he’s wrapping his arms around you like he knows you won’t break.

his tongue is immediately in your mouth and he’s taking one gasping breath and filling his nose with the scent that’s overwhelming him.

simon realises right then that the house smells like dinner but you smell like home. you are home. he’s home.

when he finally lets you let him go you’re telling him to leave all his gear by the washer and you’ll sort it all out tomorrow but right now he needs to sit down so you can feed him.

he’s back in the kitchen with a sweatshirt and shorts on and he’s never found his own clothes so comfortable. maybe it’s because he can smell you on the fabric.

you’d only been cooking enough for one but at this point, you’re so happy to have him home that you’re plating up the whole thing for him as he sits at the dining table.

his chair scrapes back along the floor and he’s patting his thigh, simon eats his tea with you curled up in his lap telling him everything he’d missed.

apparently, old-mate next door broke up with his missus and it was quite the scene.

apparently, they finally finished the roadworks on the junction at the end of your street and there was no longer a blur of orange cones on the drive to work.

apparently, there was going to be a barbecue at the house down the street and the two of you were invited. you might make a salad to take with.

you could’ve been reading him the phonebook and simon would be a happy man. his hand was holding under your thigh and your face was in the crook of his neck.

he was home.

dishes done (together) and tea steaming on the coffee table in front of him, simon isn’t sure this couch has ever been this plush. he could melt into it, as long as it was just like this.

bare feet up on the ottoman and one arm wrapped around your side as your head lay against his chest. you could hear his heartbeat and he could hear the football you’d recorded for him whilst he was away.

deployment was fucking rough, seen and done things he didn’t even want to think about. but this is what he comes home to.

you.

you who curls up in his lap and idly twirls the drawstring of his shorts round your finger.

you who offered up all of your food to him to fill the pit that’d been growing in his stomach over the weeks.

you who couldn’t give less of a fuck about the football on tv but watches in quiet contentment for the sake of being closer to him.

you who doesn’t ask once about what happened while he was away but will always listen without judgement if he needs to get something off his chest.

ideally, simon would like to give you the world in return. then again, he doesn’t think even that’d be enough.

instead, he takes you up to your shared bed and, miraculously, he doesn’t fall asleep as soon as his back touches the mattress.

he could, very easily, but instead he pulls you down on top of him and gets his lips back on yours. the kiss when he came through the door had been passionate but it’d been fleeting.

simon had kept it like that, knowing if he spent a second longer with your tongue on his then he’d have you over the kitchen bench and that wasn’t what he wanted.

really, he wanted this. the full weight of you on top of him and your hips rolling messily against his as his hands went up underneath your his shirt.

he wanted to run his fingertips along your bare back and feel skin so soft he almost couldn’t remember the things his hands had done just last week.

he wanted to map out every spot, every freckle, every ridge across your shoulders and commit it to memory so the next time he had to up and leave he could trace you like a constellation in the night sky.

truthfully, simon didn’t want to leave next time. he wanted to get the call from price and tell him that he was sorry but he couldn’t do it any longer. he now had something- someone to live for and he just couldn’t gamble odds like he used to.

he wasn’t entirely sure he’d still hold the sentiment on the other side of blowing a load so simon put those thoughts in the back of his head and decided he’d work them out on tomorrow morning’s run.

right now, simon felt the soft skin of the inside of your cheeks and your spit tastes like the nectar those gods harped on about and he’s pulling hard on your hips as he rolled something hard between them.

you were moaning, whimpering, whinging into his mouth while you ground yourself into the hard line of his cock. raging erection didn’t even cover it and his head was tipping back as a-

yawn, deep and all consuming broke from his throat.

simon was fucking knackered.

exactly what he didn’t want to happen was happening in front of him, you were sitting up and cooing at him so fucking sweetly.

“si, you’re exhausted- we’ll go to sleep”

strong grip around your waist was anchoring you to the spot so you couldn’t climb out of his lap like you were currently trying.

“sweet’art”

you could hear it in his voice, he couldn’t even lift his head off the pillow. you conceded, however, letting him rub soft little circles into your hips.

“jus’ gimme’ one and then we’ll sleep”

laying back down against his chest, you felt the air woosh out of him as you relaxed your body on his. face fitting into the crook of his neck like you were made for him (you were) with a hand running along his collarbone.

“we’ve got tomorrow”

you knew it was futile, he was already slipping your shorts to the side. head tilting just a little to press a kiss to the top of your head.

“and i need you tonight”

settled.

you felt one large hand lift you up as his other freed his cock out his shorts. just enough, just enough to get the job done because any extra effort was going to render him unconscious.

bringing a hand to his mouth, he spit in his palm quickly before rubbing it along the head of his cock. deep groan rumbled beneath you as you felt him pressing against your entrance.

“lift y’top up, sweet’art- wanna’ feel y’on me”

you did him one better, leaning up enough to slip the shirt over your head and onto the floor. forcing him to hold his arms up for just a second, you pulled his sweatshirt off and discarded it in the pile.

bare chest to chest, you could feel simon shudder beneath you. snaking one arm under his armpit and the other around his ribs, you snuggled in tight as you felt him slip right in.

that’s all he wanted.

weeks of photos, videos, imagination to go off of. this was all he ever wanted. you so close to him that it was entirely possible to imagine the two of you as one. that there was no version of reality without you together in it.

lazily rolling his hips up into you as you met him halfway, rolling yours back down to share half of the load. simon’s arms wrapped around your back, keeping you close and keeping you moving against him.

“sorry love, s’not gonna’ be a long one”

you could only respond with a whimper, gently nodding your head into his neck as your lips press soft little kisses into the skin. you didn’t need a long time, you just needed him.

unable to help yourself from noticing the couple new scratches he’d come home with, your fingers idly traced along them as he sucked in a breath at the feeling.

what you wouldn’t give to keep him home and keep him safe.

a thought for another day as you felt yourself constricting around his cock, grinding yourself into his lap as firm muscle rubbed against your front.

tiny little gasps flitted from your mouth and into his ear, you could feel his body tensing up beneath you. it wasn’t just with sheer tiredness, you knew this man like the back of your hand.

left hand coming out from under where you’d buried it behind his back, you ran the tips of your fingernails down simon’s chest. you stopped at his nipple, gently scraping along the peaked flesh until you heard him.

“need y’to cum right now f’me please”

slipping your other hand between the two of you, you let your fingers wander against yourself until you could feel the tide breaking in the pit of your stomach.

body clenching involuntarily, your mouth dropping open against his skin. no doubt drool pooling against his collarbone as you came with a pathetic whimper. hips bucking a little crazy in his lap as his hand ran the length of your back.

“god that’s it, sweet’art”

simon went rigid, gripping you tight like you might go somewhere as the dams broke and he filled you up. hot and sticky and dripping out of you and onto the waistband of his shorts.

he fell so still the only way you’d know he was still alive was the rise and fall of his chest beneath you. his arms were already starting to fall limp around you.

coming back from the bathroom, slipping off the rest of your clothes and adding them to the pile. simon wasn’t asleep, there were no snores, but he had been rendered totally immobile.

pulling the remainder of his clothes off for him and settling in beside, you pulled the sheets up over the both of you as his arm began drawing you in.

draped across him, you could feel his lips pressing against the crown of your head.

“m’gonna’ rock y’world in the morning”

you snorted a little laugh, nuzzling in closer as his breathing starts to even out. no use in replying, snorings about the only answer you’re going to get.

not that you’d mind.

he was home.

[pinacoladamatata]

blink and you'll miss it moments around skyhold....

[feralforbeanix]

Manfred Von Karma did not burn Phoenix's letters to Miles.

Like, I'm not even saying this to defend Manfred's character (though the fanbase does get a little crazy with what he actually did and didn't do) I'm saying this because that's not canon. I'm not sure it was even possible in canon.

Phoenix didn't write letters to Germany. He didn't know Miles was in Germany, let alone Von Karma's address. He didn't even know who Von Karma was until Edgeworth told him about Manfred in Turnabout Goodbyes.

In the game canon, Miles just stopped showing up to school one day. All Phoenix seemed to know was that he transferred schools suddenly. He didn't know why or where to. Remember, Phoenix didn't even hear about DL-6 until Turnabout Sisters when Maya mentioned her family's involvement.

Even in the anime canon (I haven't watched the anime in a while so I might be off about this) where Phoenix and Miles get a chance to properly say goodbye, Phoenix still doesn't have a direct means of contacting him. His best way of doing so was dedicating a song through the radio using Signal Samurai codenames and hoping Miles would hear it.

Phoenix mentions trying to contact him several times when explaining their relationship to Maya, but this was after finding out Miles was this "Demon Attorney". Miles would have to be at least 20 at this point in time, living back in California with at least a few trials under his belt. With how young he reached success, it's not impossible Miles was living on his own at the time. Even if he wasn't, I doubt Manfred was going through this grown adult's mail.

No, what the game seems to be implying is that Miles ignored Phoenix. (Maya even says, "I guess he didn't want to hear from his old friends.") And I don't think this was out of hatred or anything, I think Miles just wanted to forget his past entirely because even the good memories of his childhood would be bittersweet at best.

And to be honest that makes it even more tragic to me. Why do we need Manfred to intercept their connection when Miles' trauma and guilt complex is already doing that?

I like to think Miles knew Phoenix would be asking questions if he ever responded to those initial attempts at contact. Questions he of course doesn't want to answer because they'd at best open old wounds or at worst risk his childhood friend finding out he might have committed patricide.

I also like to think he knew Phoenix of all people would stubbornly try to find the answers Miles wouldn't willingly give because he literally mentions Phoenix always being "single minded in his work" and "always seeing things through to the end". If anyone was going to press and bring those uncomfortable and painful memories out in the open for the sake of "helping him", it would be Phoenix Wright.

Why do we need Manfred to take away all that complexity and tragedy? That is such a waste!

[valtsv]

the older and weirder i get the more i'm beginning to realize that i was actually a very cool kid who had no shame or fear until i was taught that i'd be punished for it and everything since then has been a slow uphill battle to get that part of myself back

[prismatoxic]

"chilchuck isn't a twink, he's a DILF!" now i get why you're saying that but i feel like you've maybe forgotten what chilchuck tims canonically looks like

i'm sorry but this man is a twink. also DILF isn't a body type it's a status (and technically, an opinion) so he can be both

"but he's middle-aged!" look at him. look with your eyeballs. his age has nothing to do with the fact that he Looks Like That. he's a twink. the sooner you accept this the less angry his fandom will make you

edit bc this post has become the bane of my existence:

FAQ

Q: wtf do you mean he's a dad? he looks like a kid. A: he is 29 years old, and a half-foot. half-foots are dungeon meshi's halflings, or hobbits, or whatever you want to call them.

Q: wait, if he's 29, why the fuck are you calling him middle-aged? A: half-foots have an average lifespan of 50 years. chilchuck was originally drawn with grey hairs (you can see that in the manga fullbody) but the mangaka gave up on that over time. he's middle-aged for his race.

Q: hey, doesn't that look like a little angry face on his boot in the manga drawing? A: yea kinda

[idolomantises]

I'm ngl i kinda wish people wouldn't look at a character I create, see that they're mean, and then immediately assume by default they're actually super tragic and a sad woobie. And I'm not even saying this to be like "people need to appreciate 2-dimensional villains!" because I don't agree with those people either.

It's like if a character is a jerk, it either needs to be justified with a sad backstory, or they need to be a saturday morning cartoon villain. it can't just be a part of their personality.

[redysetdare]

All this aroace character shipcourse has proven to me that a majority of people that interact in fandom cannot actually interact with characters and media outside of shipping and genuinely I believe you need to learn how to interact with media outside of shipping.

[sunderwight]

Bingqiu roleswap where disciple Shen Yuan knows he's gay, and figures out that he has a big huge crush on his handsome Shizun, but also concludes nearly at once that he's not going to be drawing Luo Binghe's eye any time soon. Firstly, Luo Binghe is notoriously straight. Secondly, even if he weren't, he wouldn't go for his scrawny untalented nerd of a disciple! Shen Yuan's not bad looking, not before or after transmigrating, but he's neither a beautiful nor a hot manly man, and he assumes if Luo Binghe were into dudes he'd be into the same kinds of twunks that Shen Yuan likes. Guys on his own level, etc etc.

Plus Luo Binghe hated the original disciple Shen, and only started to warm up to the transmigrated version after Shen Yuan got injured in front of him trying to stop the other disciples on the peak from killing a small animal. For some reason, Luo Binghe brought Shen Yuan medicine. He got even nicer after Shen Yuan distracted the skinner demon by trying to convince it to take his skin instead of Luo Binghe's, and then again when Shen Yuan successfully fought off a demon invader -- though initially when Luo Binghe volunteered him for that job, he thought it was an assassination attempt. His heart was in his throat when Luo Binghe nearly took a poisoned blow for him, but luckily he reacted more quickly and got hit by the thorns instead. His heavenly demon blood took care of the poison, and he managed to convince everyone that he narrowly avoided getting cut at all.

Shen Yuan's careful not to read anything into it when Luo Binghe finds out about his, erm, uncomfortable dormitory situation and moves him into the side room, or when he completely messes up trying to make dinner and Luo Binghe takes over cooking and bans him from the kitchen (he swears he's not actually that bad at cooking, he just never had to use a kitchen without a microwave or an electric hot plate before...)

After all, it's not like Luo Binghe is cooking for him, he's just making food he likes and letting Shen Yuan eat it too! Because he's nice! He's way nicer than the book gave him credit for being, see, clearly Shen Yuan was correct in signing up for his defense squad, "top ten worst villains of all time" his ass that poll was nonsense...

Unfortunately, though, the plot's still gotta plot. Shen Yuan is heartbroken when the Immortal Alliance Conference rolls around and his shizun stabs him and throws him down into the Endless Abyss. Heartbroken, but not surprised. After all, it was always going to go this way, wasn't it?

But at least, now that it's done, he has some agency in how he reacts to it. He's changed the story enough that he doesn't need to go get revenge. Maybe Luo Binghe's still the villain of his story, maybe that was inevitable, but some heroes let the villains get away. Don't they? It's all part of that noble, breaking the cycle of abuse type stuff. He can be that kind of hero. He can let it go. As long as he avoids Luo Binghe altogether, it should be fine, right? It's not like he's obligated to turn people into human sticks. He asked the system, he's definitely not!

Technically he's not even required to conquer the demon realms. He just has to get out of the Abyss and the be sufficiently cool and/or tragic. Conquest is just one means of doing that, and not even Shen Yuan's preferred, since he doesn't exactly want to rule over anybody. Going around the demon realms beating up some jackasses and rescuing some damsels in distress and becoming sworn brothers with Shang Qinghua, one of the current demon kings, is suitable. He definitely doesn't want to marry any of the damsels he encounters (thank fuck the system lets him off the hook for that!)

But eventually he has to go back to the human world. Not only is it mandated by the system, but he also misses living there. The demonic realms are in many ways better than expected, plus a lot of the monsters are really cool, but he misses the weather and plants and the people he's more accustomed to being around.

He misses Qing Jing Peak, if he's being honest with himself. Shizun's cooking and the bamboo forest and the crisp mountain breezes, the comforts of home.

Not that he can actually go back there in specific. Of course not. If he did that, Luo Binghe would try to kill him, or else the system would try and make him kill Luo Binghe. Bad ideas all around. No, he can't go back to Qing Jing Peak, but he can go find someplace nicer than the demon realms at least. He just has to keep a low profile, which shouldn't be hard since the original goods did that even while actively scheming to kill his former master!

Except.

Everywhere he goes, suddenly Luo Binghe is also there?!

Good thing Shen Yuan thought to take a page out of the book of Luo Binghe's actual love interest, Liu Mingyan, and start wearing a veil. He just didn't want any randos who might have seen him at the Immortal Alliance Conference or on any of the other missions his shizun sent him on to recognize him. But one minute he's investigating a strange case in Jinlan City, and the next the streets are full of Huan Hua cultivators (Shen Yuan has no intention of joining them, that's the path the original took to getting revenge! He doesn't want revenge!), and then Luo Binghe and Sect Leader MBJ and Peak Lord SHL show up, and SY is ducking down alleys and hiding behind columns, just trying to stay out of the way until the lockdown on Jinlan lifts and he can leave.

Except...

Luo Binghe really isn't acting like himself?

He looks like he hasn't been eating or sleeping well. There are dark circles around his eyes, and something almost melancholy in his countenance. And he's dressed entirely in white, none of the usual Qing Jing greens and blues anywhere to be seen. Of even greater concern, he's being reckless. Shen Yuan can't stop himself from rushing out when he sees his former shizun get infected by a sower demon.

Luckily, it's been some years since the last time they saw one another. Shen Yuan's gained a few inches in height, so he's almost at eye-level with his old master now, and though he's still more slender than bulky he's picked up some totally new styles from training the demon realms. He doesn't move the same way he used to. With that, plus the veil, it's enough for him to quickly swallow back his words as he grabs Luo Binghe and quickly administers a cure for the sower infection.

Well, he has one of course. He wouldn't need it himself, heavenly demon blood and all, but his time running around playing hero in the demon realms meant he rescued a lot of humans from such fates. Which is hard to do if you don't have a cure to their afflictions, but between him and Shang Qinghua, sourcing such things was almost easy.

Luo Binghe looks at him like he's just seen a ghost. The other Cang Qiong sect members are alarmed by SY suddenly accosting one of their own and of course find him suspicious, so he runs away right after, and then he has to lose Sha Hualing's pursuit in the city.

But what else could he do? He manages to evade the system's attempts to railroad him into meeting Gongyi Xiao, avoids the rest of the Cang Qiong crowd, and drops some of the cure through the current Qian Cao peak lord's window to get the incident sorted out. Then he flees and puts a good amount of distance between himself, Jinlan City, and every righteous sect he can think of.

The only problem is that after this point, Luo Binghe is everywhere.

Any time Shen Yuan stays in one place for longer than a few days, Qing Jing disciples start turning up. Any time he takes a job hunting some cool-sounding monster or pursuing some interesting tome of knowledge, the better to satisfy the system, it seems like Luo Binghe has selected and gone after the exact same target! Which is especially annoying because back when SY was a disciple, Luo Binghe was always assigning him to do this stuff. Since when does his chronic homebody master have an interesting in six-tailed scorpion lemurs or ancient spiritual kilns?

What's weirder, though, are the rumors.

It seems like any time SY stops at some well-populated place and asks for the latest gossip, he has to hear about how the Qing Jing peak lord lost his beloved disciple during the Immortal Alliance Conference, and mourned like a widow, and now wanders the earth in search of solace for his grief. Seeking something, possibly even the ghost of his dear disciple.

What nonsense! Luo Binghe threw SY into the Abyss himself. He had to do it, it was the plot! And also his obligation as a righteous cultivator, confronted with a "dangerous" half-demon. Does it sting? Yes it stings! That's why SY wouldn't just forget it! Despite logically knowing it's pointless, is there some part of him that wishes his master would have chosen differently? That thinks he should have known that no matter what kind of power Shen Yuan had, he would never use it to hurt people recklessly, or harm innocents, or especially not harm... well. It's pointless, his blood condemned him, and if there is some part of Luo Binghe which regrets what happened, it's doubtless just that he unwittingly harbored a monster for so long.

Which is fine and Shen Yuan would leave it at that, if the guy would just let him!

But no. Instead he has to deal with Luo Binghe turning up and asking him questions, trying to get him to talk (SY has no hope of disguising his voice, if he says anything he's not even sure it won't crack as he comes perilously close to tears instead, so he just stays silent), and then asking for his name, asking if he's mute, asking about his background, his sect, his kin. Is his a righteous cultivator? Where did he get that sword? (NOT Xin Mo, thanks, he used that thing once and then tossed it back into the Abyss before the portal finished closing behind him -- he knows a poisoned chalice when he sees one, although knowing the plot twist about that sword from the novel sure helped.) Where did he learn those forms? Is he... does he have a safe place to go home to? Someone to tend his injuries? Make sure he eats his meals?

SY, of course, stays silent. But it's difficult. Not only because Luo Binghe asks, but because he still looks... bad. Sunken, sorrowful, desperate almost. Shen Yuan can't figure out if he knows or not. Maybe he's unsure, maybe he's looking for SY to give him a sign, so that he can figure him out and then flip a switch and try to finish the job he started.

That can't happen. If they fight, SY will win, and he doesn't want to hurt Luo Binghe.

But even if Luo Binghe's not a heavenly demon, he is a highly accomplished cultivator, and it seems he's got his own breaking points to reach. Eventually he corners SY and gets a hand on his veil, and for a moment SY is sure he's going to rip it off, see his face, and confront him all "I knew it was you, you twisted evil demon, you won't escape justice a second time" and he feels a deep, icy terror close around his lungs--

Luo Binghe lets go of the veil before he can lift it.

But then something even worse happens. Because Shen Yuan's handsome, peerless, noble master breaks down. He falls to his knees, begging forgiveness, sobbing, clutching at his head like he's being driven to madness.

It all spills out of him, then. How he pushed his own dearest disciple into the Abyss, which obviously SY already knew, but also how he was apparently qi-deviating the whole time, and his senses could not differentiate between one kind of demonic "threat" and another. How he realized what he'd done only after he regained his senses hours later, and rushed back to the place where the tear to the Abyss had opened, but could not find a way in after the one he lost. How he had betrayed and thrown away the only person who cared about him, and couldn't even explain that he hadn't intended to. How he would accept anything, any punishment, hatred, penance, or revenge, if only he could see his disciple's face once more.

SY is stunned.

Apparently, Luo Binghe hadn't rejected him for his demon blood?

Not only that, but beforehand, he seemed to have valued Shen Yuan a lot more than Shen Yuan would have credited.

Is it a trick? Is he lying? SY would have guessed so, would have assumed that Luo Binghe's plan was to lull him into complacency only to turn on him once he finally had confirmation. But somehow, he just... doesn't think this is an insincere display. His old master is too cool for this stuff! He has too much dignity to just throw it away on a scheme! There are other ways to get what he wants.

Even if it is a lie, Shen Yuan is tired of running. He's the hero. He won't actually lose, and if it comes to it, it's still in his hands to decide if he wants to spare Luo Binghe or not (he does, of course he does, even if this whole spiel is an act). Plus he's got a backup plant body in one of Shang Qinghua's greenhouses if all goes to shit.

He takes the veil off himself.

Luo Binghe, teary-eyed, stares at him as if his face is the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Shen Yuan nearly puts the veil back on. His cheeks heat up. Dear Shizun, aren't you an immortal master? A noble peak lord? Isn't it your calling to vanquish demons? Get up off the dirty ground right this minute! Where did your dignity go? Shen Yuan did not spend all those nights doing the laundry to watch his teacher dirty his knees for no good reason!

There's a quaver in Luo Binghe's voice as he points out that Shen Yuan was terrible at doing laundry. Luo Binghe had to redo it the day after, all the time.

Shen Yuan chides at him that he should have made one of the other disciples do it then.

Luo Binghe just laughs, and stays on the ground, until finally Shen Yuan has to physically pull him up. Muttering about how he's being ridiculous, what's he crying for, why's he been moping so much, doesn't he know that handsome face should never look so bereft? Then he realizes what he's saying and shuts his mouth, but Luo Binghe just looks happy for the first time in years. Since the Abyss. How is it possible that SY, who actually had to slog through that awful place, can still smile more than Luo Binghe, who didn't?

They're standing so close. Holding on to one another. Almost as if... as if the scene's tone is... well...

Oh what the hell!

Shen Yuan closes the last little bit of distance between them, and kisses Luo Binghe.

[iridescentmirrorsgenshin]

alhaitham and kaveh as 'friends' - full circle

kaveh lying and using ‘his friend’ as a scapegoat for supposedly taking his plans is so um INTERESTING!! given his past references to Alhaitham, and that he was just talked with Alhaitham the scene before, this reads as a direct reference to Alhaitham, meaning that their relationship has come full circle from where we were initially introduced to kaveh

in the archon quest, paimon asks if Alhaitham and kaveh are friends, to which Alhaitham deflects, denoting a negative

but they are denied a friendship status definitively in alhaitham’s story quest where paimon directly asks kaveh if Alhaitham and he are friends, to which kaveh says although they used to be, they aren’t any longer

the game has repeatedly shown that Alhaitham and kaveh possess a deep understanding of each other, only it is their miscommunication and inability to compromise that causes the rift between them. Their character design is based around mirrors, and this ultimately poses the question of whether the two can align their beliefs, whether they can achieve a harmony

overcoming this rift between them begins in a parade of providence, where kaveh’s cycle of self-detriment in his excessive altruism due to his past guilt is particularly focussed on, with alhaitham’s reaction being saddened, and concerned, for kaveh’s mindset – not because his beliefs or philosophies are ‘correct’ over kaveh’s, but because of his belief that kaveh’s mindset negatively impacts him

Alhaitham posits that the issues between them are no longer about the ‘correctness’ of their respective philosophies after looking into sachin’s influence over kaveh’s father, in order to potentially provide kaveh closer, insinuating a more personal reason for the rift between them

It’s after this that a notable shift is seen in their dynamic, with cyno’s second story quest going out of its way to show a flashback in the intimacy of their home, and additionally showing the two voluntarily working together for the first time since their past, abandoned thesis

Their working together demonstrates this harmonisation of not only their personal, scholarly beliefs, but also their reconciliation as people, which can be seen in the two’s closeness, where they previously were separated due to strife – a closeness that is commented on by other characters

In nahida’s birthday event this intimacy is furthered even more, with kaveh wanting mehrak, an important helper companion, to be able to recognise alhaitham’s voice – as of now, this appears to be the only other person, besides himself, whom kaveh has programmed this feature for. Kaveh’s regard for mehrak, established in this scene, then carries over to Alhaitham, demonstrating how kaveh perceives the importance of their bond (i yapped about this more here!)

Going back to kaveh indirectly referring to Alhaitham as his ‘friend’, where this was previously denied, shows a fulfilment Alhaitham and kaveh’s narrative arc :’’’) I am so!?!?! Happy for them well done guys, you got there in the end <3

[bluuscreen]

triple masterminds ?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

hope you feel better soon!

I am riddled with ailments, but I stay silly!

[bunnieswithknives]

Dev this is serious stop beatboxing.