IT IS A REQUEST BORN FROM LOVE, though they both know it's unfair to ask.

do they cry for their own deaths? perhaps, in part. which seems strange, doesn't it— for two people who have been ready to give themselves up in turn for another, defined time and again by their willing sacrifice. but it is only natural.

because—

(heads lean in, umber tresses twined in gold much like inter-locked fingers; like their blood, in the creases of trembling palms. the tears don't stop, they can't— but all the same, their sadness frames wane smiles. the last ounces of strength spent in some whispered idea of kisses: to Zelda's forehead, to Easy's cheek. there is no greater comfort in the face of death than her... but,)

          /Last of the cop shop/B99 AU shenanigans, but I forgot this existed and it’s just too perfect to pass up. Starring:

and

................................................

That may be closer to “infatuation” than “love” though…

And that may be yet another needless and totally subjective distinction put on the word "love!" Like, a certain sunset only happens once, it's just as transient and changing, but you don't go "oh I'm just so infatuated with the color of the sky right now" or "I feel I am experiencing an intense and superficial affection for the taste of this food"— you LOVE things! Instantly, and with certainty.

I just happen to find it very easy to do that with people, in a way I guess some don't. To fall in love with the way their eyes crease at the corners, how the cowlicks at the back of their head stand in different little directions, how they awkwardly hum a tune without even meaning to as they write out their to-do list.

@regnantlight said:

❝ keep moving! i'll cover you! ❞

"I'M FINE, JUST GO ON WITHOUT ME!" PROMPTS | accepting

SHE DOES AS SHE'S TOLD with little hesitation—nearly stumbling over herself in the scramble as yet another weapon is swung, another guttural cry bellowed out from the monsters which set upon them. It's all she can think to do; to run, to escape, and hope that it's enough to ensure her safety. All while the princess and her retinue stay behind—a brow brandished, arrows sent with astounding accuracy, and in another hand a blade flashes, catching the light with each slash, and flourish. CHAMPIONS in action.

Safe, out of sight, out of range, taking cover; Honey has all the time in the world to think, now, and so it comes again—that familiar thought.

Coward. what are you even doing here?

She doesn't know.

Supposedly it's to help Zelda; her, her knight, and the others desperately trying to prevent the calamity. That's what the great fairies and their kin existed for, after all, and why she—unique in her ability to leave the shrine, the fountain which she was borne from—had come to Hyrule's court in the first place, (encouraged by her father in his time goddesses rest his soul). All hollow words, because she was too afraid. she froze in the face of fear, or flew, but never fought. she could mend the wounds after they came, but could not prevent them.

❝ Honey? it's alright, now— we've dealt with the last of them. but we need to keep moving, in case there's more nearby. ❞

I can't do this. I'm not like you. I'm not like any of you.

❝ What did you say? You're mumbling. Come on, ❞ a hand, offered down; a sympathetic look in eyes which had just been hardened, steeled only moments before... she takes it, and comes to her feet, but only tightens her hold once she's standing, tethering them both in place for a heavy pause, tears still framing violet eyes.

@regnantlight asked:

“   Researching the stages of grief to see if I can get them finished in ten minutes tops. ”

ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF | accepting