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[etherealperrie]

Anywhere With You

Chapter 2: "The Bolters"

Coriolanus (Coryo) Snow x Reader Word count: 1.6k Contains: pre-hunger games Coryo | buzzcut Coryo | longtime friends to lovers | Coriolanus being soft for the one he loves | mentions of minor tbosas characters | tbosas spoilers

--

There’s a chill in the air. Your body shivers in response, a reminder that you really are here, your fingers wrapped tightly around the handle of the case you packed late last night. Wind dances across the town center, sweeping the leaves up into the air. You watch in awe as the oranges and yellows mix, their rustling the only sound at this hour. You’ll miss the changing of seasons here in the city, even though they don’t carry quite the same beauty and magic they did when you were a child – before the war. 

The sounds of footsteps catch you off guard, an instinct you weren’t aware you had, forces you back into the shadows behind a nearby building. It’s only Sejanus. You had no real reason to worry, he wouldn’t tell. In all honesty you thought he might try to leave with you and Coriolanus, but he refused. Even though he’d be the last person to try and stop you from leaving, you fight the desire to wave goodbye to him. It’s best you’re not seen. It would be easier to fade away in the memories of everyone here. Not only that, it would erase Sejanus of any culpability. To be honest you aren’t sure what the Capital will do once they realize you’re gone, but the last thing you want is for any of your friends to suffer consequences. So, instead of saying your goodbyes, you watch his figure walk away towards the Academy, noting the strength of his shoulders as he straightens up with every step. 

Your heart thuds against your chest. 

Where you’re headed is uncharted territory, really. A place you’d only heard stories about. A place supposedly far beyond District Twelve. A place with no one in sight – no civilization, just open fields and nameless land. Your heart pounds and you’re not sure whether it's out of excitement or fear: maybe both. After all, you’d been taught to fear a place like that, a lawless land. And yet, the thought of being able to live without the Capitol breathing down your neck, without the expectations and demands of your parents and professors excites you. Makes you wonder for all the things you might do, for the person you might become; to see the ways you and Coryo grow together. 

Slinking further back against the building, you glance up at the sky, the sun just beginning to rise from its slumber. When you woke this morning, Coriolanus was gone, his bed empty. Though the two of you discussed strategy mere hours before, waking up alone was frightening. What if Dean Highbottom heard word of your planned escape? What if a Peacekeeper found your Coryo out in the wee hours of the morning and took him to Dr. Gaul? Coriolanus is smart, but Dr. Gaul is calculated – who’s to say she wouldn’t catch on to your plans and punish him? 

Your worries are cut short as your body collides with something, or rather, someone. Before you have time to panic, a hand covers your mouth, another hand interlocking with yours, rubbing a soothing circle into your skin. 

Coryo. 

His eyes meet yours and you release a gasp, wilting into the strength of him holding you up. Your gaze rakes over him, noting something different about him. His hair. The soft wave of blonde curls are no longer, his hair buzzed down.

“Coryo,” you breathe, running your hands over his head. “What happened? Did they hurt you?” Your hands drop from his head down to his shoulders, feeling every inch of him. 

“I’m okay, love, I promise.” He chuckles, pressing his forehead to yours. “I figure it would be easier to maintain this way.” He shrugs. “That, and I thought it might help us slip out unnoticed.” 

He had a point, he did look different. Everyone here knew him to have those soft, gentle curls.

His hands tuck into the back pocket of his pants and emerge with a saffron yellow colored scarf. The golden thread shimmers in the early morning light. He glances at you and smiles softly, unfurling the satin fabric to drape it over your head. His fingers work to tie the ends just under your chin. 

“What’s this?” Your brow furrows and you reach up to feel the fabric now covering your hair, shielding you from the wind chill and the eyes of anyone around. 

“It was my mothers.” Coriolanus sighs, lacing his fingers through yours. “Anything to keep us out of sight.” He tugs you the slightest bit closer to him and presses a gentle kiss to your lips. It takes every fiber in your being to hold yourself back from him, to not mash your lips against his in such fervor that reflects the danger of the situation the two of you are in. Instead, you pull back as he squeezes your hand, a promise that there’s more on the other side of the two of you escaping the Capitol. 

The sharp whistle of a train in the distance brings you both back to reality, Coryo snapping up, his posture impossibly straight. 

“Come on, we don’t want to miss this one.” 

Close on Coryo’s heels, your hand in his, you make your way across the Capitol center towards the train station. As you approach, unfamiliar voices echo in the station yelling in virulent opposition to the stoic silence of the Peacekeepers as they yank small, frail bodies from the train. 

Your breath catches in your throat, your feet stopping. Coriolanus doesn’t notice at first, the way that you’ve stopped in your tracks, your hand no longer in his but lifted to your lips, the other shielding your eyes from the horror in front of you. 

The tributes. 

Peacekeepers. 

There’s no guarantee that Dr. Gaul or Dean Highbottom aren’t here as well. There’s no guarantee that you and Coryo make it out of the Capitol, let alone onto the train. You hadn’t realized everything Dr. Gaul mentioned yesterday would happen so quickly. That the tributes would be arriving this morning. Where would they go? How many would survive their welcome into the city? How could you run away while they were being carted to their untimely demise – something you’re supposed to have a hand in? 

From where you stand just behind a rusted column at the back of the station, your eye catches those of a small boy. Dark brown hair and pale skin, marred by dirt and what looks like blood, his left eye blackened. Had he been hit by a Peacekeeper? A fellow tribute? No more than twelve, he snivels, crossing his arms as he jumps down from the train onto the platform. A peacekeeper takes hold of his arm, but the boy doesn’t take his eyes off of you. It clicks then. It’s him. Your boy. The one you’ve been assigned. 

“Where did you go?” You jump at the feeling of Coryo’s breath on your cheek, his eyes wide as he takes in the sight of you stuck frozen to your place. The two of you are cramped behind this column, if a Peacekeeper so much as glanced in this direction, you’d be caught. 

Coriolanus takes hold of your hand and follows your gaze to the boy standing on the platform. More tributes stand around him now, all of them accompanied by a Peacekeeper awaiting instruction. Coriolanus sighs and brings his hand to your chin, turning your head back to him. 

“I know you want to help them.” 

You nod. 

“I should’ve warned you we might see them, but this is the only train that’s going back out to Twelve for quite some time, we have to take it.” 

“But, Cory–” 

“I know, I know.” Coriolanus places a finger to your lips. “Sejanus is going to do all he can to help them. He knows people back in Two. If he can, he’s going to help them escape – but we have to go. Now.” 

“What if we-” you begin again but Coriolanus cuts you off, placing a delicate hand over your mouth. You raise an eyebrow as the group of peacekeepers and tributes fall silent, their footsteps echoing across the platform as they begin their march toward the transport vehicle. 

“They’re going to bomb the arena,” Coriolanus whispers. “Sejanus, the rebels. They’re already in place, the minute anyone sets foot inside, the whole place will go down. They won’t even be able to hold the games. We don’t have to worry.” 

You’re not sure how to reckon with the information. When did this happen? Whose idea was it? It just might work, though, the Capitol is more than halfway out on the idea of the games overall, most people not having bothered to watch in years. A plan like this just might convince the masses that the Hunger Games are a moot point. That these children are victims to a war they never waged. 

Coryo eyes you, looking for any sign of movement. His eyes are slightly manic, bouncing between you and the train as if internally counting the seconds you have left to board. 

“Okay,” you sigh, taking one last look back at the tributes who had been shuffled into the car. A peacekeeper locks the back door and climbs inside the passenger seat just as the vehicle putters away, its engine just loud enough to mask the sounds of cries and screams. 

Your heart rips in half as Coriolanus tugs you from behind the pillar and out into the open for a singular moment before thrusting you up into the open train car, climbing inside after you. His hand rests on your hip, making sure you’re secure before turning to slide the door closed. 

It's dark. 

The train gives one last, mighty whistle as it lurches forward beginning its long trek back to District Twelve. 

“We’re almost free,” Coriolanus whispers, tucking his head to press a kiss to your neck. He rests there, on your shoulder for a long while, his fingers dancing across your thigh as the sound of the train tracks mimics the pounding of your heart.

--

A/N: I know this is many, many months late BUT I wanted to continue the story & tag those who requested it all that time ago...so...

TAG LIST: @clintsupremacy @jennifer0305 @zucchinimalfoy @marina468 @nishimura-writes @lovebyceleste @ennycutie @mjkale @tellsbabyy

[etherealperrie]

Hypothetically speaking…IF I had finally finished the part 2 of “Anywhere With You” would any of you…care?? It’s been months, but… 👀

[etherealperrie]

[etherealperrie]

“i can’t do this anymore” says a girl who is not only going to do it but do it well

[etherealperrie]

[etherealperrie]

Peace

Link x Zelda | Zelink

Word Count: 1.7k

Contains: Link and Zelda being soft for one another | the "I would lay my life down for yours again & again if it meant being able to see you happy" kind of trope | excessive amounts of fluff | Link and Zelda being soulmates in every universe | Link and Zelda finally getting a peaceful, happy moment

Warnings: references to nudity, potential spoilers as the events of this fic take place after BOTW & TOTK

A/N: I've never written anything for this universe before, BUT, I've been playing copious amounts of botw & totk and have been thinking about these two a lot & how much I want them to be happy & be able to hold one another, so I wrote it! I hope someone out there enjoys <3

...

There’s something on Zelda’s mind. Her lip pulled taught between her teeth, that all too familiar crease between her brows ever present. Link knows that look all too well. A distant look in her eyes, as if she’s not really here in the garden of their Hateno Village home, but somewhere else entirely. 

Link knows not to question her, she comes to him when she’s ready, but he watches her intently. A habit he’s never really broken, whether he realizes it or not. His eyes are on her, watching as she breathes, letting her eyelids close, the summer evening breeze grazing her slightly sunburnt cheeks. Her hair dances with the wind and Link swears that for a moment, his heart skips a beat. He doesn’t bother to check, though, for he’s all too used to that feeling ever since it began when he first laid eyes on her over a century ago. 

Sometimes he wishes he could remember everything. Every look, every touch, every word they exchanged with one another. To forget even one is a shame. Perhaps this is why he refuses to take an eye off of her now. Every day, hour, minute, second, is a chance to make up for the gaps in his memory. To put her at the center of his world. It’s easy work for him. 

Zelda sighs and Link’s shoulders relax as she comes back down from wherever she’d gone. Sometimes she gets swept up into memories – some of them pleasant, others not so much. Link holds his breath for a minute more, waiting for her reaction.

She smiles and rises from where she sat beside the garden bed of carrots, closing the space between the two of them in a few steps. 

“Another dream?” Link asks, looking up at her. She leans into him, collapsing onto his lap, her arms wrapped around his shoulders. He welcomes her, wrapping his arms around her torso, pulling her into him. She’s soft and warm, a soothing smell of grass and soap enveloping his senses, reminding him that they’re both here. Human. Solid. Real. Alive. 

“Sometimes, when the wind blows over me like that, I can feel my mother’s touch.” Zelda hums, leaning her head against Link’s chest. At her words, he hugs her a bit tighter, wishing he could fill these empty parts of her. Zelda continues on. “Then, I think of Urbosa. I miss her.” 

“Me too,” Link agrees. He misses them all. Urbosa, Mipha, Revali, Daruk. Back when he and Zelda were no more than a Princess and a Knight. He doesn’t wish to return to those moments, per say, he’s happy to be here with Zelda having survived the Calamity and the Upheaval. Happy that she came back to him after the draconification, that he can touch her again. How lucky they are to be here with one another. Some days the survivors' guilt is harder to overcome than others. 

He wishes Zelda didn’t feel it, though. He wishes more than anything that he could absolve her of that guilt. Of every sadness. He’d bare it all himself, double, if it meant she would never have to feel it again. But here she is, reminiscing, sharing with him. Handling it with such grace, such beauty. She doesn’t know it, but her ability to carry on is what keeps him going, what inspires him to keep living despite it all. 

The sun is just beginning to set now, beginning its descent behind the trees as she readies to exchange posts with the moon. The wind picks up, blowing a cool breeze over the two of them. Link watches a chill spread across Zelda’s exposed shoulder, her lip quivering for a brief moment. 

For a moment he’s sucked into his mind, a memory washing over him. Zelda knelt in waist deep water praying to the Goddess Hylia – pleading, really – in hopes of discovering her power. He’d been ordered to stand and watch guard while she prayed, ensuring her safety. But, goddess, it took everything in his power to keep his back turned to her.

Link would never admit this to anyone, but that night he couldn’t turn a blind eye to the tremble in her voice. While she prayed, he turned over his shoulder to catch just a glimpse of her. Bathed in the glow of the moon, her porcelain skin reflecting the constellations above and the water below she looked, well, heavenly. More like a goddess than Hylia herself, Link had half a mind to fall on bended knee and worship Zelda. 

Underneath, though, he could see her shivering. Her teeth chattered as she begged with the Goddess to show her something, anything that could help in their battle against Calamity Ganon. Her fists clenched, her shoulders heaved as tears began to spill over and trail down her cheeks. Link wanted nothing more in that moment than to rush to her side, wipe the tears from her cheeks with the calloused pad of his thumb and pull her from the water. But he’d taken a vow of silence. A vow to protect the Princess. He couldn’t act on impulse, on desire.

Link lets out a quiet laugh now, running his thumb over Zelda’s exposed shoulder, hoping to warm away the chills. She tucks into him, exhaling a breath at his touch. Foolish, he thinks, to have ever thought that desire for the Princess would ever disappear – he’s destined to love her forever, in every lifetime, in every timeline. 

It’s a relief to be able to act on impulses now. To care for her in his own way, to warm her shivering body with his, to take her pain away. 

Zelda feels Link’s eyes on her and she wonders what he’s thinking. She wonders if he’s just as content as she is to sit here, in his lap, forever. She wouldn’t doubt it, sometimes it feels as though he’d sit with her all day, if she would let him. She often has to remind him that she’s okay. That she’s not going to go anywhere. Though, she often has to convince herself of that fact first. They’ve been through so much in the past century, the past handful of years since the Calamity and the Upheaval. So much loss, that some nights she clings to Link in her sleep to keep her tethered to this reality, to prevent fate from taking her away again. 

“I think we’ve done enough work for today,” Link says, moving one of his arms and sliding it under Zelda’s knees, lifting her into a bridal carry in one swift motion. Zelda gasps, tightening her grip as if she’s ever once had to worry she isn’t safe in his arms. She’s never felt more safe in her life, and that’s not an easy thing for the Princess to feel. Even if, goddess forbid, something were to tear them apart again, she knows that somehow Link will return to her. 

The next few minutes between the Princess and the Knight happen in total silence and almost without thought. All Link knows is that he wants to make Zelda comfortable. So, a bath is drawn. 

Steam rises from the tub as Zelda sinks into the water, the chill of the evening leaving her body. She tips her head back, the ends of her hair skimming the surface, as she rests her head against the wall, turning at the sound of footsteps approaching. 

Link slips into the washroom, his eyes glinting at the sight of her – two lush green eyes set in a hazy glow of peach and pink. He smiles, elated to see her so relaxed, even more so to see her smiling back at him. 

“Might I join you?” he asks, already slipping out of his tunic.

Zelda hums in encouragement, watching as Link lifts his tunic over his head. She watches with wide eyes, as if she’d never seen him like this before. Perhaps it’s because she doesn’t remember much of anything from her time in the skies, that she would be remiss to not take every moment with her knight as something precious. 

She drinks in the sight of his muscled back, tan, naked skin marked with blotches of color – some yellow, others purple – bruises, from his endless battles. In the next second, he’s fully exposed and her eyes are mapping every freckle and scar, each with its own memory. 

Soon, Link is standing just above her as she shimmies back, spreading her legs to make ample room for him to rest. It’s not often that she gets to hold him, so when his back is pressed against her front seconds later, his head resting against her chest, those crystalline blue eyes looking up at her from below, she feels as though her heart might beat through her chest. She’s certain he can feel it. 

He can. And, goddess, what a sensation. The moment his bare skin comes into contact with hers, Zelda’s fingertips skimming up the length of his body from his hip, across his torso, and up his neck stopping to circle each mark, he is reborn. 

Zelda asks about each one, tracing her fingers across Link’s skin again and again, desperate to know the story that led to every blemish. Link entertains her, his eyes falling shut as he recalls spats and battles, some she was present for and others not. He surprises himself with a few stories. He was certain he’d forgotten some, but with her hands on him, he recalls them with ease. Zelda smiles as she listens to him, the cushion of his body beneath her hand. She stifles a laugh when she notices a trail of chills following in her wake as her hand wanders Link’s body. It’s sweet to know the effect she has on him, she’ll never tell him that she knows, so she revels in the discovery while his eyes are closed. 

They carry on until the water is tepid, their bodies having absorbed the heat of the liquid and of one another. They wrap in towels, drying their skin, unraveling from one another for just that moment before tumbling into their shared bed, naked skin to naked skin. 

Peace is something the two of them are just beginning to know. Perhaps peace, the gentle feeling of loving one another, is the very thing they’ll cling to.

...

[etherealperrie]

botw/totk link is the character of all time. he's the destined hero handpicked by the goddess. he's too anxious to speak. he's the princess's sworn protector, friend and partner. he has eaten rocks. he could best an adult man in combat by the age of four. he's befriended every leader in hyrule. he has tony hawk vibes so strong nobody else ever recognises him. he invented pizza. he can smite a lynel in 20 seconds. he's 4'10". he's even nonbinary

[etherealperrie]

LA GRANDE DAME • drag race uk vs the world 2.08 finale look

[etherealperrie]

LA GRANDE DAME • drag race uk vs the world 2.01 for queen and country runway

[etherealperrie]

I come bearing art of my favorite guys

I've never posted here before so if the formatting or quality is scuffed oh well

[etherealperrie]

[etherealperrie]

re-reading my own fic because the author has exactly my taste in tropes, ships the same ships in the right way, and also shares my sense of humour. what a find, what a revelation. i hope they write more of this sort of thing.

[etherealperrie]

Zelda: Would still love me if I was a worm?

Link:

Link: *gesturing to large photo of the Light Dragon in his house*

[etherealperrie]

🍃 “Oh, Link…I’m home!” 🍃

[etherealperrie]

Link... you must find me ♥

[etherealperrie]

Perrie recently ♡

[etherealperrie]

everybody give it up for this brand of green. round of applause for most under appreciated green