#i can write them later yes yes i know

[bnesszai]

i was so excited for rarepair week and then this never ending headache ruined my life so i will have exactly one (1) fic to post for it

[hanzajesthanza]

(Adam Dudaczyk) The fact that vampires drink blood to get that *meaningful hand-neck gesture* - you made that up? (Andrzej Sapkowski) Yes, I didn't model myself on anyone here, I don't know anyone who wrote before me about the fact that vampires drink blood not to satisfy their hunger, but to satisfy their thirst for… entertainment. Texts: the guys sent me to get blood, I was flying drunk… The fun was great.

as i reread this i couldn't stop thinking of this meme

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

my greatest achievement in DA2 is maxing out Carver's friendship

and all it took was begrudgingly kissing a little templar ass in act 1 because Carver didn't want to plan a prison break if my Hawke got his ass arrested for being stupid.

[rosenfey]

things that are hard to find: writing advice that isn't condescending.

[fragmentedblade]

The "Dan Heng is Dan Feng" dogmatics annoy me a lot. It entirely brushes off one of the most interesting and prevalent questions posed by the game, incarnated by several characters and stories that give the question different hues with different potential answers, and a constant also in HI3, like a thread waving the two games together

[kaylazer]

back on my bullshit (meeting men im in love with). Ben Schwartz is so kind and tall :-) I didn’t totally freeze like when I met the Jonas brothers but the selfies we took are blurry so 😔

(at least I have these bc I told sam to record the whole thing heheheh)

[doomdoomofdoom]

not to get political on the blog for my thoughts of which many are political but

By far the funniest reasoning I've heard against voting for Kamala Harris is that she was/is a cop. She's not. Kamala Harris was a prosecutor.

These are not the same thing. These are so obviously not the same thing that it boggles the mind anyone would think so. Yes, cops and prosecutors work together. Yes, the US criminal justice system is incredibly flawed.

But one trains for 6 months and has the authority to use lethal force while not being required to know the law they're enforcing. The other has to spend 7 years to pursue higher education, 3 of which spent exclusively on law, and has a direct counterbalance when performing their job.

If you want to hate Kamala Harris for being a prosecutor, go do that. But don't pretend she's a cop to make it easier for you.

[justawrites]

Me telling myself I killed off this character for a Reason™️ and bringing them back would completely undermine that reason

Vs me knowing damn well the universe canonically has resurrection, and the guilt and grief and trauma won't be erased just bc the character gets to come back and would even give me a chance to explore that grief and guilt and trauma in a new context

[genekies]

tag vent

[darkfinch]

there needs to be,,,,,a typewriter, but not a hassle to acquire & fix and use and maintain. modern typewriter. simple maybe digital typewriter that doesn't have internet access or other features it's just for typing words and that's it. big storage. maybe it's an e-ink screen so it doesn't hurt ur eyes. maybe it doesnt cost 700 dollars. this is my dream i am gazing dreamily into the night sky dreaming abt it. modern typewriter

[the-greek-mythos-project]

The Greek Mythos Project: What We Accept Within Submissions

Hello everyone, it is once again Camila here and I am writing this post because I decided I should probably clarify things sooner than later. I know I and quite a few other lovely people can struggle with open barriers within things, especially in such a large and "imposing" project, so I decided to write down the general specifics of things to lessen everyone's anxiety. This can and will definitely be improved if we are given more information/questions/asked for clarification so feel free to check every once in a while or reach out if you don't see a specific question you have answered. This is once again here to promote better communication within things and break down this large project to more manageable things. So, let's get into it!

[Note: This post will go from the broader, more unspecific, topics to the smaller, more specific ones so feel free to scroll down or up as you please :)]

The Biggest Thing First! One Singular POV. This is something that I, Camila, want for the project and therefore, it will be the most enforced thing within here. Don't worry, though! We will be releasing a Second Work alongside this main project consisting of things that didn't quite fit into the original project, such as works that aren't exactly (or at all) one POV but still want to be recognized or OC pieces that are like reincarnations of various gods/mortals/characters which I'll get into later. So you work has a place with us, I promise you <3.

Anyway, back to the One Singular POV thing. It genuinely does not matter whether the piece is First Person, Second Person, Third Person, or something within those parameters as long as the setting, scene, thoughts, and work are being described in that one character's thoughts/experiences. A great example of this in Third Person is in the Heroes of Olympus by Rick Riordan, a popular YA Book Series centering around Greek Mythology in a Modern Setting told by their Demigod Children, where the narrative is in Third Person POV but it only ever follows whoever's POV it's in. Such as we do see the character's actual name and "he/she/they" instead of "I" but we're not privy to anything other than what the character is experiencing.

That is what I am asking for, and I am asking for this mostly for myself!) As we all may know by now, this project was created because I--Camila--took one look at my goal to rewrite the entirety of Greek Mythology in my search to learn more about the Greek Myths, was like "yeah... no," and then proceeded to make this public with the intent to bring out those niche writers, gain a community, make friends, and generally learn more about the various communities and ideas surrounding such a vast and deep thing such as Greek Mythology (remember, people not only know this across the globe, but across centuries. It's not just our ideas and the original texts, it's the Roman Empire's thoughts, the Rise of Christianity, all of our forefathers, and even those who we have read dissecting these things and creating academic papers or other works. It's just so interesting how much character and change and even how much influence various things have had on our modern perceptions). But, this is also a Project, this is also mine, and so I am very politely asking for it to be One POV of a Greek Mythological Character--However Niche They May Be--Only.

Thank you so much for understanding and, again, I will be hosting a Secondary Fic for all the things that don't quite fit under this Main Project but may still want to have the recognition/community that this comes with <3.

Note!! Because this post ended up being a little long and would be hard to properly organize going further, the rest of it will be comprised in reblogs <33

[gingerbreadmonsters]

oh this is going to be......... a problem actually

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Blood of the Hero Ch 9 (Link's parents play BotW)

Summary: The Soul of the Hero will always be there to save Hyrule. But when Calamity Ganon is nearly victorious in killing him, it's those that bear the Blood of the Hero who will prevail. Ten years after the Great Calamity, the Shrine of Resurrection is damaged and Link's parents fight to save their son and Hyrule along with him.

i.e. Link's parents play BotW while protecting their boy and they are ready to take on Ganon himself if they have to.

(AO3 link)

First

<<Previous // Next>>

To Kakariko - Dueling Peaks

It was the prickling on his neck that woke him. It was an unsettling feeling, like he was being watched. He’d felt it a few times when a monster would try to jump him or his men during a journey.

Abel opened his eyes, instantly on edge and confused. He was home; why did he feel like he was being—

Oh.

A little set of beady eyes was staring at him silently from the stairway, peeking around the edge of the banister.

“Link…?” Abel whispered a little hoarsely. “What’s wrong?”

His son watched him mutely, biting his lip. He looked afraid.

Concerned, Abel slowly slid out of the bed, careful not to disturb Tilieth. “What’s the matter, son?”

The toddler looked at his feet, sniffling. When he still didn’t speak, Abel sighed, sitting on the stairs and pulling the little one onto his lap. Link was a bit of a mystery sometimes, though he wasn’t sure if that was because the child was really that bizarre or because he himself knew so little of children anyway. This was his first, after all. But either way… Link was a pendulum swinging rapidly between a noisy, boisterous, and reckless three-year-old and a stifled, quiet, and timid one. To some degree Abel saw his own more silent demeanor and Til’s exuberance for life fighting for dominance in the child, and he felt a little guilty for it.

But when Abel was scared, he would grow agitated and aggressive. He would fight his fear. This little one seemed overwhelmed by it… and he didn’t know how to address that.

Giving his boy a kiss on the head, he said, “Tell me what’s wrong, Link.”

“Bad dream,” Link finally admitted into his father’s chest, his little hands clinging to Abel’s tunic.

“Oh?” Abel prompted, rubbing the little one’s back reassuringly. “What was it about?”

Link shifted a little on his lap, and suddenly Abel felt the boy’s weight change, increasing rapidly. Caught off guard, he glanced down and saw Link, bloodied and broken and burnt, one eye swollen shut, the other bloodshot from exhaustion and exertion, a small chunk of flesh torn off his neck as it oozed blood from the one spot that hadn’t been cauterized by an energy beam. Abel jumped, nearly dropping his boy, horrified at the sight.

“You didn’t get to me in time,” Link said accusingly. “And I died because of it.”

Abel gasped as he awoke, scrambling for reality, heart in his throat. He whipped his head to the right and his eyes immediately fell on his teenage son, oblivious to the world around him. Neither eye was swollen any longer, though Abel had only glanced at their cerulean hue for a few minutes in the past ten years. Had they been bloodshot when they’d opened yesterday? His neck bore the traces of a burn, reddened and somewhat swollen but at least fully intact.

The former knight sighed and dropped his head to the ground, closing his eyes as he collected himself.

Slowly, after a few calming breaths, Abel opened his eyes and sat up, pulling Link up with him. Tilieth was still fast asleep on Link’s other side, bundled under the blankets they’d packed, her brow slightly furrowed in discomfort as the family slept on the floor of the shrine. 

With Link settled on his lap, held loosely in place by his left arm, Abel sifted through their bags to find some water. Stew would be best as it could provide some nutrition for the teenager as well, but nothing was prepared and Abel’s growing anxiety would not wait for breakfast. Grabbing a flask of water, he shook Link slightly, whispering softly to him. In previous shrines, getting a spirit orb had shown some sign of improvement in Link, but Abel couldn’t discern any notable changes in his son since they’d completed this shrine, and it was making him grow worried.

Despite multiple prompts and his voice growing ever louder, Abel was unable to make Link even stir. Tilieth eventually awoke with his attempts, sitting up and throwing an uneasy look in his direction.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“He won’t wake up,” Abel answered pitifully, as if this hadn’t been an issue before. Being able to get some water into the boy yesterday had given him hope for their journey, but now he couldn’t get Link to react, even briefly. Had it just been a fluke?

Abel shook his head. There was no way Link was getting worse, was there?

This was foolish and he knew it, wasn’t it? Link hadn’t even flinched throughout all their jostling yesterday. Maybe the boy just needed more sleep. He’d barely awoken for them yesterday, but… Abel had hoped it meant he was improving quickly.

Of course he’d been wrong.

Tilieth reached out, her hand settling on Link’s forehead, and Abel shook his head. “I’m sorry. It… maybe we’ll be able to give him some water later in the day.”

“There’s a river outside the shrine,” Til suggested as she stretched. “Maybe a cool bath will wake him up a little.”

Abel supposed that was possible. Til made a simple breakfast for the pair, and Abel went outside first to clear any monsters before bringing Link to the water. There was a small group of bokoblins just down the hill by the shore, and he dealt with them swiftly. With so many beasts around, though, he was beginning to consider wearing his old knight armor; he hadn’t been keen on doing so due to its cumbersome nature while carrying Link and had been wearing a warm doublet and trousers instead.

Sighing, Abel was temporarily distracted at the sight of a chest that the bokoblins had been apparently guarding. Opening it, he felt his stomach churn at the sight of what was inside.

A soldier’s bow.

Abel suddenly felt enraged. These monsters were pillaging the bodies of the fallen, combing through their homes and stealing their weapons to further Ganon’s chaotic agenda?! The very thought of such a desecration happening all over Hyrule nearly made him sick to his stomach.

He turned to further maim or burn the bodies of the creatures he’d slain only to find them disintegrating into dust and smoke, as all fell beasts did when Ganon had no more use for them.

Abel spat into the ground, marching back over to the shrine. After telling Til that the coast was clear, he kept watch while she cleaned herself and Link, using the bow he’d just acquired to pick off a stray bokoblin in the distance. As his eyes trailed the shoreline on the other side of the river, his gaze settled on two guardians sitting seemingly innocently on the ground, and he felt his breath catch at the sight of them.

If they’d been active he’d have known by now. They would have fired when he’d first attacked the pack of bokoblins. It didn't make him feel any less uneasy, though.

“I’m surprised Proxim Bridge held up as well as it did, considering how many guardians were crossing it back then.” Tilieth remarked from beneath the bridge. Then he heard her gasp slightly, and he slid on the slick rocks to get to her. Before he could ask what was wrong, she pointed to the water flowing on the other side of the bridge. “There’s a chest in the water, look!”

Abel sighed in exasperation. “Til, the amount of debris around here shouldn’t be a surprise to you.”

“It’s intact,” Tilieth noted. “Let me see if there’s something useful inside.”

Abel spluttered in protest as his wife swam over into plain view, unable to stop her as she gently pushed Link towards him. His son was unphased, floating peacefully in the cool, clear water as his father held him afloat.

Tilieth reached the floating wooden chest, struggling a little to open it while swimming in the water. When she’d tried and failed three times, Abel called out to her. “Til, for the love of Hylia, get back over here! I can’t protect you from there!”

His wife was clearly growing frustrated with her lack of progress and swam to the rocky shore, climbing up and walking back towards their supplies underneath the bridge. Abel lost sight of her for a moment and then heard her scream.

Every nerve in his body fired in response, and he hastily tucked Link under the bridge and grabbed the bow and an arrow, knowing he probably couldn’t get within arm’s reach in time. When he leapt over the rocky wall of the bridge, he loosed an arrow at a brown figure near his wife and then felt a yell of shock and horror tear out of his throat immediately after.

The Hylian turned in time to see the arrow slam into his shoulder, and he hit the ground with a cry of pain.

Oh shit, Abel’s mind screamed. Shit, that’s a Hylian, an actual Hylian!

Tilieth slid under the bridge to hide, both horrified at being caught in such a state of undress and at what had just happened. Abel found himself at a loss for words.

It hadn’t occurred to either of them that they’d run into living, breathing people before they got to Kakariko.

“Zomi!” another voice cried, and Abel turned sharply to his left, seeing someone running towards him across the bridge, blade already raised.

Abel felt his mind numb as he nocked another arrow, and then Til was in view again, a green tunic covering her to her mid thighs. She waved frantically in the air. “Stop, wait!! My husband was just trying to protect me, we didn’t mean any harm!”

The Hylian on the ground grunted. “Feels pretty harmful to me.”

“You’re one of those thieves, aren’t you?!” the foreign woman yelled accusingly, raising her sword to point at Abel. “You think you can just attack anyone who is trying to travel?! Get away from my brother!”

“We’re not thieves,” Til replied, a little bemused at the branding. “We’re just…”

His wife trailed off, glancing at Abel uncertainly. Abel supplied, “We’re travelers.”

Finally, the former knight lowered his weapon, though he was still too addled to get near the injured Hylian. The woman grew hesitant with his action, uncertain of his intention. With the pause that it created, Abel managed to catch his breath and knelt beside the man. “I’m… sorry. My wife yelled and I—”

“Reacted,” Zomi grunted as he shifted uncomfortably. “Good thing you caught yourself in midshot, eh? Though I—Hylia above, this hurts… I’d really like to get this out.”

Abel bit his lip. He hadn’t changed the trajectory of his aim at all. He didn’t have the heart to tell the man the only reason he was alive was because archery was not Abel’s strength.

He couldn’t even fathom the fact that the only reason he hadn’t just murdered a man was because his aim was off.

“We can’t pull it out, you’ll bleed more,” Tilieth protested as the Hylian woman rushed over to the injured man.

“We have something for that,” the woman said dismissively as she reached for the arrow. Her brother hissed in pain as she braced, her brow furrowed in worry.

Abel put a hand on her shoulder. “Let me pull it out. It’ll be faster.”

“You’ve already hurt him enough!” she snapped.

“Hisal, please,” her brother pleaded, his voice shaking. “Let him do it.”

Hisal frowned, clearly not wanting to listen, but she backed off nonetheless, reaching into her large travel pack. Abel took a deep breath, putting one hand on Zomi’s shoulder and the other on the arrow. Then he pulled hard, leaving the stranger screaming as Tilieth looked away, slipping under the bridge to check on Link.

The sister shoved a bottle in her brother’s face, and he drank quickly, coughing a little on it as he groaned in pain. Once he was finished downing the contents of whatever concoction he was given, he laid on the ground, panting for air and sweaty, but… not bleeding. Abel glanced at the wound and saw that it was little more than a divot in his skin.

Abel looked at Hisal, amazed. “How did you do that?”

“Fairy,” she explained.

Abel grew confused. “Fairy? Those are exceedingly rare. And I didn’t see a fairy in that bottle.”

“If you cook them, they have healing properties.”

Abel’s mouth snapped shut. Somehow that seemed… wrong to cook such creatures. Weren’t they supposed to be gifts from the goddesses?

He didn’t comment. It wasn’t as if the goddesses had spared much after the calamity. People had to make do.

Maybe they could find some fairies too.

Tilieth appeared once more, wearing trousers and throwing her light blonde curly hair into a messy bun as she almost always did. “What are you two even doing here?”

“We were trying to make the pathway safer for travelers,” Hisal said as she helped her brother sit up. “People are slowly starting to try to venture out of their homes again. If we could make contact with others then maybe we can help each other out. But there are plenty whose homes were destroyed during the calamity and have been living out in the wilds. Some make do, but a lot try to jump people for supplies. It’s dangerous to travel anywhere right now.”

“So you’re… clearing the path?” Abel tried to surmise, growing tense. Had this Zomi person been about to attack Til, then?

Zomi rotated his arm a little, testing it as he grimaced slightly. “We’re building a shelter on the other side of the bridge. A place of refuge for weary travelers. I saw someone under the bridge and went to investigate. I’m… sorry for the scare.”

Abel’s tension drained out of him, and he slowly rose. “I believe I’m the one who should be apologizing.”

“Where are you two from?” Tilieth asked, prolonging the conversation (unnecessarily, his mind added).

“Palmorae Village,” Zomi answered after a moment, sighing. “What’s left of it.”

There was a heavy silence in the air after that. Abel glanced around uneasily, wanting to check on Link though he knew Til had just done so. Clearing his throat, he said, “Well, you stumbled onto my wife as she was finishing up a bath, but I’m afraid I still have to clean up, so perhaps you two can get back to whatever you were building and we’ll leave each other in peace.”

His words fell on deaf ears, though, as the siblings stared off towards the shrine.

“Wasn’t it glowing orange yesterday?” Hisal wondered softly. 

Zomi shook his head, glancing at Abel. “Sorry, we just… these things have popped up everywhere. People are taking it all kinds of ways. Have you seen the towers? They’re enormous and they came out of nowhere, and it’s got people freaked out. Like… some are saying it’s for the guardians.”

Abel nearly laughed, but he bit his tongue instead. As entertaining as others’ interpretation of the situation was, he and Til still had a mission to accomplish, and these two were stalling them. 

Tilieth, on the other hand, was eager to speak. “Oh? Well, I don’t think it’s anything quite that foreboding. It could be a good sign.”

“That’s what I said,” Hisal muttered, nudging Zomi. 

Abel was finally at the end of his patience and turned to go under the bridge. “Either way, be safe. I’m sorry about earlier.”

The apology felt significantly less sincere than it really had any right to be, but he hadn’t spoken to anyone aside from his wife (and recently a dead man) in the last ten years and had enough adrenaline in his system to make him want to scream. He had little idea or tolerance for such an interaction.

Zomi noticed the finality in his tone and huffed a small, sheepish laugh, patting his sister on the shoulder. “Yes, I suppose we should get back to what we were doing. I… good luck to you two.”

With that, the siblings uneasily made their way across the bridge, dipping around the other end and climbing down an embankment. Abel immediately let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding and rushed under the bridge to check on Link.

“You almost killed him,” Til said shakily as she followed him. “I–goddess, what if–I didn’t even think about—”

“I noticed,” Abel said flatly before adding with a sigh, “I didn’t think about it either.”

His train of thought derailed when he got to Link and saw the boy grimacing and shivering. Abel hastened his steps and knelt beside his son, quickly wrapping him in a larger cloak to dry him off. Til noticed his furrowed brow and immediately grabbed a water flask as Abel tried to coax him awake.

“Link,” he whispered, giving his son a little shake. “Open your eyes.”

Hylia, please, Abel prayed as he brushed damp locks of hair out of his boy’s face. “Wake up.”

Link looked like he truly was trying, but his furrowed brow started to relax, the crinkles around his eyes smoothed out, and he started to grow limp in his father’s hold. Tilieth let out a panicked little cry as Abel shook him again, but neither parent could rouse their child.

Abel sighed heavily. “Let’s just get him dressed and get going.”

Breakfast was simple and somber, and the couple was on their way soon enough. A quick scan from Abel ensured that the siblings they’d encountered were nowhere in sight as they crossed the bridge, though building materials were stacked to the side. As an afterthought, Til grabbed the slate and made an ice pillar to finally reach the treasure chest she’d been investigating, and she pulled a purple rupee from it.

“All of that for a purple rupee,” Abel sighed. At least it was more useful than amber.

Honestly, the more he thought about it the more he realized that if there truly were so many survivors, they had a fairly significant problem.

They were broke.

The thought was only a brief concern. They’d survived off the land long enough, he supposed. They didn’t need to buy from anyone. He looked distractedly to his left as Til returned, feeling his son’s legs sway by his sides, and saw the wrecked remains of a distant stable.

He wondered just how many people had actually ventured outside of their home towns and villages. He wondered how many towns and villages were even left.

Focus, he told himself, shaking his head. He hadn’t had these thoughts since the early years.

As the pair made their way on the path, the dueling peaks loomed steadily closer. Abel remembered when it used to be a comforting sight on his journeys home, when he was allowed time off duty. Except… there was something distinctly different.

There was a tower beside them!

“Didn’t you say the tower on the plateau let you map out the area on the slate?” Tilieth noted.

“I did,” Abel answered slowly, wondering if it was worth the climb. He knew this area like the back of his hand, after all.

Then again, the tower could have more to offer the slate. If nothing else, it would give him a good view to survey the region. It had been a decade - things changed.

“I‘ll climb it,” his wife said, catching him off guard. At his surprised expression, she added, “You're carrying Link. I don’t want you to get tired.”

“Til, that’s a hell of a climb.”

“I’ve got it,” she insisted, waving the slate. “Let’s get closer.”

A small monster encampment was just north of them, and it didn’t take much for Abel to eliminate it. The treasure they guarded was an opal, to Abel’s relief and Tilieth’s delight. His wife started to pick through the trail as well, finding herbs and berries and nuts and even snails on the shoreline at one point.

“Is that really necessary?” He asked as she stuffed a freshly caught butterfly into her pouch.

“It could come in handy,” she said lightly with a cheery smile.

The highlight of her strange fascinations was when she shoved a rock into a curiously formed hole and then smiled at the air above it, holding out her hand.

Abel stared at her in bemusement. “What are you doing?”

Til’s smile faltered a little as she looked at him, and then her eyes dulled a little with sadness before she shrugged and returned to the path ahead. “I’ll explain later.”

The tower itself was adjacent to a monster camp that rivaled the large one by the River of the Dead. Abel had practically gone to war with the beasts there a few times, keeping their numbers fairly low. Here, there were…

Wait a minute. Were those people?

Abel froze, and Tilieth nearly ran into him with a yelp. Then she tensed as she recognized them too.

“Is… why does that look like a monster camp?” she asked quietly, her voice tight.

“I think they took over it.”

“So… that’s a good thing, right?” Tilieth asked, and a part of Abel despised that it even had to be a question. Given their last interaction, it was possible, but…

But Abel wasn’t a trusting man. Not anymore.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “Best to assume it isn’t. That man spoke of dangerous people on the road.”

“But… they would have passed them, wouldn’t they?”

That was a fair point. It didn’t make Abel feel any better, though. He didn’t want them to see Link.

“Let’s backtrack,” Abel said. “We—”

“Wait,” Til interrupted, staring at the shore. “Maybe there’s an alternative.”

Abel watched his wife tiptoe towards the shoreline, staring at a spot just by the water. When he examined where she was looking, he saw only the same rock that covered the rest of the shore. She reached down as if to pick up a stone and then jumped slightly, her hand shooting back as if it had been burnt.

Confused, he approached slowly, very aware that they were steadily creeping into the line of sight of the camp. “Til, what are you doing?”

“I think I can find a safe path across the river,” Tilieth said. “We both can cross.”

“I can’t swim with Link on my back like this,” Abel immediately. “This current is too strong.”

“We’re not swimming,” Tilieth replied with a mischievous smile, pulling out the slate. “Follow me. With that, his wife started creating ice pillars to cross. Abel watched them warily. They were… fairly easy to traverse, but they were still made of ice. He’d barely managed to not slip when they’d first started using it in the snow shrine. And if they fell into the river…

Sighing, he watched as Til easily slid across three pillars to reach a little island where the stone tore out of the earth higher than the water could cover. They weren’t quite in view of the camp from here. He followed his wife, wondering why she again stopped on the rock and reached for something only to stop midway, but he didn’t bother voicing the question. They continued with this pattern until they were nearly all the way across the river. Then Tilieth smiled and held out her hand, her palm closing as if she’d grabbed something.

“Caught another bug?” Abel surmised, catching his breath after leaping across the river with Link in tow.

“Something like that,” Til said softly, her smile brightened by her flushed cheeks. Then she pointed ahead. “We’re almost at the tower!”

She wasn’t wrong. From here they could just hop to another rock and then they’d be at the shore again. Tilieth hastily ran ahead, climbing up some rocks that helped her reach nearly halfway up the tower.

“Be careful!” Abel called a little worriedly before settling Link on the ground. As he examined his boy, he noticed a little blood stain on Link’s trousers, right around where the strap of the harness would be. Feeling his gut clench a little, he slid them down to look and see the damage he suspected was happening.

The harness was hurting him. Because of course it was. It wasn’t as if something could go well for any of them. It wasn’t as if Link couldn’t just wake up, and—

Abel bit his lip, reaching into his bag for what little medical supplies they’d packed as he cleaned the pressure wounds. There was no sense in complaining about it. He just had to deal with it. Just like he dealt with everything else.

There was a yell of excitement and Abel looked up and nearly had a heart attack as his wife practically landed on top of them, their glider guiding her descent. Before he even had a chance to speak, Tilieth was immediately rambling with excitement.

“Honey, there was another upgrade to the slate, it has a sensor that can track shrines, we can find any shrine anywhere now and—why are Link’s pants pulled down? Did he make a mess? Why—is that blood? What happened?!”

Abel held up a hand in a desperate attempt to make his wife at least pause for breath so he could explain, and then her words registered. “A sensor? The slate can find shrines?”

Tilieth’s distress was evident when she started to speak again, so Abel hastily redressed their son and explained, “It’s the harness, Til. There wasn’t an attack. Tell me about the sensor.”

Tilieth bit her lip, anxiety sketched into every crease of her pinched face, and then she determinedly pulled out the slate. “If we follow the beeping, it’ll lead us to shrines. It’s already picked up on one nearby.”

Abel ignored how his stomach growled in protest while the midday sun hung heavily overhead. He was suddenly filled with energy at the sliver of hope that maybe, just maybe, something was finally going well today. Carefully slipping the harness back on Link, he rose with his son. “Then let’s get going.”

Tilieth rushed ahead, leaving Abel to run to keep up with her. At first they climbed a few rocks and then started to trace a path around the mountain. Then Til paused so abruptly Abel crashed right into her.

“Til, what the—”

“The signal stopped,” she interjected, a little worried. “Let’s try again.”

Turning around, Tilieth brushed by Abel, who followed her hesitantly, his brow steadily crinkling together. He heard the little slate chirping more frantically as they moved, and Tilieth picked up the pace once more.

And then she stopped again.

“Til—”

“It keeps disappearing.” She said, squinting at the screen. “I think… honey, I think we have to climb.”

You’ve got to be kidding me.

He shouldn’t have been surprised at this point.

Shaking his head, he said, “Well, if it means we can find a shrine, then let’s go.”

The couple looked upward, sizing up the mountain. There were perches for them to cling to, but it wasn’t going to be a pleasant experience. Abel’s gut churned; if Til lost her grip, there was nothing he could do to catch her. He didn’t like this.

Then again, they had little choice in the matter. And she had the paraglider, so there was that.

Slowly but surely, the two started to climb, emboldened by the repeated encouragement from the slate.

And then, halfway up the mountain, it stopped.

“What happened?” Abel asked, growing a little concerned and more than a little frustrated.

“We lost the signal,” Tilieth muttered, carefully looking at the slate as sweat poured off her forehead. “But… it didn’t… this doesn’t make sense…”

“Maybe we should just bomb our way through the mountain,” Abel grumbled.

“No, we have to figure this out!” Tilieth argued. Abel noticed with worry that her arm was visibly trembling.

“We will,” he insisted. “But let’s reach the top first.”

The pair continued on, and Abel quickly realized how completely idiotic of a suggestion that had been. There was absolutely no way they were reaching the top. Thankfully, though, there were outcroppings where they could stop and rest. By the time Abel dragged himself onto stable, even ground, his body gave out altogether, leaving him in a crumpled pile lying prone in the grass while Link slowly crushed the air out of him. Tilieth wasn’t of much help as she was splayed out on her back beside him, panting.

“Why—is there—a shrine—in the middle—of the mountain?” she asked between breaths.

“Why can’t that damn sensor figure out where the hell we’re supposed to go?” Abel snapped. “It has to be broken.”

Til groaned as she pushed herself into a seated position and gently coaxed Abel to lie on his side so she could get Link out of the harness. A steady rain started to coat the area, washing their sweat away along with any chance of continuing their climb anytime soon. Sighing, Abel finally crawled over to Link and pulled him close so he could shield him from the rain. He could already feel his boy shivering a little under him.

“I’m going to look around,” Tilieth resolved tiredly. “Maybe I can figure this sensor out.”

Abel didn’t bother to throw his two rupees in on the matter. Instead, he carried Link and found a tree to serve as somewhat tolerable shelter, and then he started rifling through their bag to see if Til had any elixir. They’d promised to not use any unless absolutely necessary, but if he couldn’t get Link to wake up long enough to sip more than two gulps of water, he’d need one soon enough.

Speaking of which, he should try to wake him again. At least Link was reacting to his surroundings once more. Every fiber of his being screamed in protest as Abel pulled Link into his lap and shook him a little, and his stomach was so tight he felt nauseous.

Maybe he should eat something too.

The ground shook, and Abel heard Tilieth call for him frantically.

Propping Link by the tree, he immediately grabbed his sword and ran to find his wife, only to find…

Only to find a stone talus.

Tilieth was miniscule in front of the monstrosity, running for her life to get to Abel.

“TILIETH!” he called. 

The stone talus took an enormous step and Tilieth screamed, dodging its feet within the last second. She managed to reach Abel just to slam into him, and he nearly fell over before whirling around to drag her away. 

His mind screamed a million different things at once. Where would they go?! How would they get Link to safety?!

Someone had to distract the beast.

Just as Abel shouted a command to his wife, she dragged him to the tree and pointed at Link. “Pick him up, we have to climb!”

“It’ll pick us off before we can ever get anywhere! It needs to be distracted,” Abel shook his head, throwing the harness to her. “Get him out of here!”

“No!” Til shouted as the ground shook again, the beast looming just around the corner. “Climb the tree! Remember the little taluses on the plateau? As long as they couldn’t see us they’d go back to their resting place. They’re even dumber than bokoblins, Abel!”

“You—you want to hide in the tree—”

“Come on!”

Well there wasn’t any stopping her. Abel quickly switched strategies, pulling Link onto his back and hastily clamoring into the branches. It appeased Til long enough for him to try to come up with a new strategy.

The stone talus loomed into view and then paused just a step away from them. It swiveled its stone body a few times as if looking for them. Abel and Tilieth held their breath.

A bird squawked beside them, making Til yelp. Another bird at the outcropping across from them flew off, startled. The movement caught the talus’ attention, and suddenly Abel’s world shifted and any stabilizing force holding the tree together fell apart as the talus picked up the tree and tossed it high into the sky.

Both parents yelled in horror as they flew through the air. The tree was steadily stripped of its leaves until Abel could see a clear view of ground underneath him - they’d cleared the mountain peak entirely. If they held onto the tree any longer they’d fall right back down into the river far below.

Assuming they didn’t hit the rocks first.

“Let go!” he shouted.

“What?!”

“Let—go!!”

Tilieth screamed but obeyed, and the two hit the ground hard before rolling a little ways. The tree continued straight over the cliffside, splintering on the ground far, far below.

The stone talus was nowhere in sight. Nor were any landmarks, until Abel looked around over the cliffside, dizzy and disoriented. 

They were on the top of the mountain.

The air was considerably colder, wind howling against his face and stinging his cheeks. The biting chill was a slap of reality to the face, and he gasped, unfastening the harness just as Tilieth helped pull Link off him.

Their boy was bruised, with some blood leaking out of his nose, but none the worse for it. Though he was clearly cringing in pain.

“Link, oh Link, baby I’m so sorry,” Tilieth sobbed, holding the boy. “I was just trying to figure out where the sensor was leading, the talus came out of nowhere—”

Abel put a hand on Til’s shoulder, too out of breath to comfort with words, when the slate chirped.

“That damn thing,” he snapped, getting ready to grab it and throw it when Tilieth gasped and pointed behind him.

Turning, he saw a shrine glowing at the very top of the mountain, nestled between two stone formations that looked like pillars.

On the other blasted mountain.

Abel was going to lose his mind. He was. He really, truly was. 

Gritting his teeth, he took a steadying breath, his chest burning both inside and out as his ribs protested against movement while his lungs protested against the dryer air. 

Shooting to his feet, Abel swayed in place and nearly fell back over, but he spread his feet a little to plant himself into the ground as Tilieth hurried to steady him. He stormed away from the twin mountain, away from his wife, and away from his son.

“Abel, where are you going?” Til asked shakily.

Abel waved a hand over his head, beyond words. His ribs hurt too much to talk anyway, and he was ready to go off.

The only way this day could get worse was if Link didn’t wake up at least once to drink something, and that seemed a likely possibility considering getting catapulted into the air didn’t rouse him.

Tilieth’s tear—filled call made him pause, and he clenched his fists, trying and failing to calm down. He wasn’t mad at her. He wasn’t mad at anyone.

Well. Maybe he was a little mad at Hylia. Maybe that was why they were getting pulverized like this.

What was it that they used to say back in the day? Trust the goddess?

Abel scoffed. Trusting in the goddess got Hyrule destroyed. Her royal bloodline had failed Hyrule and his son.

Yet he had failed Link just as badly, if not worse.

Abel’s knee suddenly gave out, and he yelped as he face-planted into the damp grass. His body felt like it was on fire and he couldn’t even tell if it was from pain or the pure frustrated rage that was about to tear out of his throat.

Instead, he took a shuddering breath and slowly sat up. Glancing back where he’d walked away, he saw Tilieth sitting on the ground with Link’s head in her lap as she rocked him slowly. He couldn’t see her face from where he was, but he could see her shaking.

The former knight sighed, drained of his anger and filled with hopelessness and exhaustion. Slowly, he rose to go back to his family and offer what little support he had left in him. When he approached, Tilieth looked at him, her cheeks stained with tears.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, barely audible over the wind.

“This isn’t your fault.” I’m sorry too.

Abel knelt beside her, slowly and gingerly wrapping an arm around her as he helped cradle Link. The wind blew harder, making both parents shiver in the cold, and it blew a few pebbles over the side of the mountain.

Only for them to bounce against something that was distinctly not stone.

Both Til and Abel glanced in the direction of the drop where the rocks had just fallen before looking at each other with curiosity and, in Til’s case, the smallest glimmer of hope. His wife rose first, leaving Link in his care, and Abel watched her walk as he held his son tightly.

Tilieth gasped and quickly said, “Abel! Abel there’s a shrine here! Just under the cliff!”

Though his joints were stiffening from the bitterly chilly wind and the cool moisture seeping into his clothes from the ground, Abel still had a little energy left to lift Link and follow his wife. Just as she proclaimed, a shrine sat waiting innocently for them just a little slide away.

There were two shrines. Twin shrines for the twin peaks.

Abel let out a weak, tired laugh, his breath carried away by the gusts.

“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get Link’s spirit orbs.”

[carebooks]

where is my lockwood & co. crossover with bridgerton in which lockwood & co. somehow time travel to the regency period and now have to deal with the time era’s bullshit whilst also figure out how The Problem is a thing in the early 1800’s when it hadn’t even existed… this is exactly what george wants to investigate. they get dragged to a time where The Problem was active and yet it has never been documented. meanwhile, locklyle were just getting their footing and being semi-more-flirty each other and now they can’t interact in private without a goddamn chaperone. do you think that stops either one of them— fuck no. but it creates so many fun situations. and in total, the trio goes out nightly more or less every time there’s ghost activity.

[crowlore]

no, dragon age 2 is not the best dragon age game. but it’s also not the worst. and most importantly, it is my favorite.

[dbphantom]

maybe i should have gone into practical effects instead of computer science...