#yes i am still writing those

[bamsara]

I love Arson he's my favorite heater but I should really get a cheap laptop one day so I can leave the house to write because the Noise. Is . Too Much. I need to go write in the forest

[scificrows]

Okay, my brain refuses to think about anything other than Murderbot, so I looked at every use of the word "friend[s]" in TMBD and... created some pie charts. Normal human activities.

Some Thoughts™ I had while putting this together (under the cut):

In All Systems Red, Murderbot notes that the PresAux crew are all close friends (twice! and goes on to explain their internal relationships which I think is very cute). This is pretty much the only use of 'friends' in ASR, except for when Murderbot says that SecUnits can't be friends with each other.

It seems that this may be one of the first times Murderbot has ever really been around a group of friends before? Murderbot notes that this is not the norm for its contracts and admits that the fact that they are all friends and the way they interact with each other make it actually enjoy that contract (before!!!! the hostile attack, so it already enjoys this contract before they start seeing it as a person etc ghghhhh). [Inference: Friendship seems enjoyable.]

The first character that calls Murderbot its friend is ART in Artificial Condition. Murderbot immediately refutes this (and then goes on to call ART its friend to its clients for the rest of the book). [Inference: Maybe ART is Murderbot's friend. And maybe that is... agreeable]

Rogue Protocol has more than twice as many instances of the word 'friend' as any of the other novellas. Why? Miki. Friendship and its implications for non-humans are a central theme because Miki is friends with everyone. Murderbot initially scoffs at the notion that Miki and Miki's humans are friends. At the end of the book, after witnessing how desperately Don Abene tried to stop Miki from trying to save them, and her grief after its death, Murderbot has to admit that she had in fact been Miki's friend. [Inference: Humans can be friends with bots and can sincerely care about them]

In Exit Strategy, Murderbot tentatively uses the word "friends" for its humans for the first time (several times actually). It questions whether it can actually call them its friends or not and later realizes that it had been afraid what admitting that the humans are its friends would do to it. At the end of the book, Mensah tells Murderbot the PresAux crew are its friends, which is the first time a human has directly said that to it (at least on-page). [Inference: Humans can and want to be Murderbot's friends]

In Network Effect, Murderbot seems to be more habituated to the word 'friend', confidently calling ART and Ratthi its friends, like it is no longer just trying the concept on unsure if it fits. There are many instances in which other characters refer to MB as ART's friend or the other way around and Murderbot's humans refer to Murderbot as their friend several times. Generally, there seems to be less hesitancy, because yes, all of them are Murderbot's friends, why wouldn't they be. [Inference: SecUnits can have friends. This SecUnit has friends. They care about it a lot.]

Conclusion: The Murderbot Diaries tell the story of a construct that does not seem to consider the possibility of friendship for itself and is fine with that - until it accidentally starts caring a little too much and suddenly more and more people annex it as a friend (ew) to the point where it can no longer deny that this is happening and has to begrudgingly admit that yes, it has friends now and maybe that is actually not a bad thing.

[meownotgood]

I'm going back to bed the moment I post this but I've been having a super rough and stressful night... so for whatever reason I went back to read some of the kind asks I've received since I saved a lot... some since the first time I started writing... and I got so emotional and just began sobbing haha.... I can't believe how lucky I am...... I love writing so much.........

[grimalkinmessor]

Aideku with blood (smut) 🙏❤️

Sorry this took so long, smut is hard 🥲How about a vamp AU? :3 Warnings in the tags ✨

Aideku/Smut/Blood

———

Izuku is nervous.

"Don't be such a pussy, Deku," Tsubasa jeers, shoving him forward. The mausoleum looms in front of them, haloed by the setting sun. "It's one night."

"Yeah, you can handle one night in an empty building, can't you?" Neiru laughs. "Or...mostly empty, anyway. Aside from a few corpses."

Izuku swallows. "I-I can do it! I just—"

"Good," Neiru interrupts, stepping up to open the big stone door. It opens with a grating moan, a vast expanse of black yawning beyond it. Neiru gives a mocking bow. "In you go then!"

Nails biting into his palms, Izuku sets his jaw. "...I do this, and you'll give me my picture back?"

Tsubasa throws an arm around Izuku's shoulders, leaning in close and making his skin crawl. "Aw c'mon, Deku, we're friends, right?"

They haven't been friends in years.

"It's just a little game. The picture's just insurance that you won't chicken out. We'll give it back if you make it the whole night without bailing."

Izuku doesn't believe him. But what choice does he have? If he refuses, he doubts they'll hand it over—it's more likely that they'll rip it up right in front of him. Besides, Izuku is less concerned about spending the night in a mausoleum than he is Tsubasa and Neiru letting him out in the morning.

But even if they don't, Izuku is crafty. He'll figure it out.

Tightening his hold on his backpack, Izuku strides forward into the tomb.

"Finally! Thought we'd have to throw you in," Tsubasa complains, and Neiru snickers as he begins to push the door shut.

"Have fun, Deku!"

Before Izuku can even reply, the door thuds shut, and the bar scrapes back into place over it from the outside. Izuku waits a moment before fumbling for his phone, turning on the flashlight to get a good look around. It's not that big of a space really, but it's full of cobwebs and coated in a thick layer of dust. It's clear that these ancestors haven't been visited in a very long time. There's about six plaques on either wall, some of them so old that the kanji has worn down so much he can't make out the names. They're so old that Izuku wouldn't be surprised if there were actual bodies behind those plaques rather than just urns full of ash.

And speaking of bodies—the biggest thing in the room is the long stone slab directly opposite the door. It has no plaque on it, but the seam between the heavy stone lid tells Izuku that it's likely a coffin, which means that he really is locked in here with a corpse.

Izuku gulps. It's fine. It's fine. He can handle this. There's nothing to be afraid of.

Shaking his head, Izuku finds a fairly clean spot in the middle of the room and sits down, shrugging off his backpack to rifle through it. First things first; he pulls out his actual flashlight, shutting his phone off to preserve the battery. He clicks his flashlight on and sets it on the floor like a tiny lamp, before tugging out one of his textbooks. Might as well get some work done while he's stuck here.

He's almost out of high school now, looking into nearby colleges so he can stay close to his mother—which makes it all the more pathetic that he's still getting pushed around by people like Tsubasa and Neiru. Granted, it's not as bad as it used to be, but it's still irritating.

Izuku tries to ignore his surroundings as he works his way through the next chapter, gnawing on his pen and occasionally jotting down notes in the margins. This works for a while; he manages to make his way through two whole chapters without much trouble. He loses track of time a bit, until—

—something skitters across his foot.

Izuku shrieks, throwing himself back on instinct, leg flailing as he tries to stand only to end up toppling harshly against the casket behind him. Yelping, Izuku crashes back to the ground, clutching his shoulder with a wince. It throbs when he touches it, and he hisses quietly. That's going to bruise.

Grabbing blindly for his flashlight, Izuku staggers back to his feet and looks around for whatever just tried to climb his pants leg. He sees a spider the size of his hand sprint into a crack in the wall, and Izuku shudders, making a soft 'blegh' sound.

Swinging the light around slowly, Izuku freezes when he realizes that his flailing has pushed the lid of the stone casket aside. "Sh-shit," Izuku whispers, anxiety spiking. He sets the flashlight down again, face up, the light dispersing throughout the tomb enough to give the place a dim glow. "Shit, shit, shit—"

Hands shaking, Izuku approaches the cracked casket and tentatively peers inside. He expects to see some withered husk of a thing, or maybe nothing but bones and dust given how old this tomb seems—he's very much not expecting what looks like the perfectly preserved corpse of a man who couldn't have died more than a year ago.

Izuku blinks, squinting. The flashlight glow is dim, but from what he can see it's a man with long, dark hair and a riot of stubble. The white and black yukata he's wearing is shockingly pristine, pale hands folded calmly over his stomach. There are no signs of decay at all, not beyond the ashen white of the corpse's skin. Unable to help himself, curiosity ad incredulity flaring, Izuku reaches forward and touches the man's cheek. The flesh is stone cold—not quite icy, but certainly not full of warmth. There's a bit of give there too, the flesh porcelain but still somehow soft.

Brow furrowing, Izuku slides his hand down to press two fingers to the corpse's white neck. He's no sure whether he's surprised or relieved to find no pulse.

Izuku barely has time to register this however, because mere seconds later a hand snaps out and fists in his uniform jacket, yanking him down and in to the coffin. Izuku yelps, panic spiking, as he crashes onto the cool body settled in the slab, mouth opening to scream as the stone lid of the casket slams back into place.

But no sound escapes his mouth, because in the sudden darkness he feels teeth slice into his throat—before pleasure overtakes him.

Izuku gapes at nothing as a solid arm latches around his waist, tight enough to bruise and yet somehow still seeming absentminded. The subtle rasp of stubble rubs against his neck, and Izuku smells the faint scent of blood as lips move and hum quietly against his pulse. The electrifying feeling of heat spiders out from the point of contact, spreading through Izuku's body and pooling in his gut. Izuku's eyes flutter, a weak noise escaping his mouth as his hands flex and paw at the chest of the-the thing beneath him. He's not sure whether he means to push it away, or draw it closer.

Izuku feels his blood spilling slowly down his neck, thick and hot, and the pieces slot together in his bewildered, fuzzy mind.

Vampire.

He is locked in a tomb—a coffin—with a monster of legends. It's feeding off of him, stealing his blood, likely killing him...

But Izuku can barely bring himself to care.

A ragged groan scrapes out of his throat as the vampire sucks out his lifeblood, ecstasy filling him in its place. He feels his cock stiffen, pressing tight against the seam of his pants as Izuku's eyes roll back in delirious elan. Through the haze, his ever analytical mind notes that the man's hands are skating up and down his sides, one fisting loosely in his hair to pin his head at a better angle. The chill of the corpse's skin is slowly being replaced by warmth, siphoning off Izuku's body heat as well as his blood.

Izuku gasps as a leg juts up beneath him, a muscled thigh slipping in between his legs and pressing against his erection. The pressure makes him tremble, little hiccups of sound lilting out of his mouth as he instinctively rocks his hips down in helpless little jerks, each movement giving him another jolt of pleasure.

A tongue swipes over his bloodied neck, the white-hot bliss of those teeth leaving him for a moment as the monster beneath him cleans him up. Izuku whines at the loss, a quiet desperation striking through him.

'No, no, come back, I'm almost...'

He moans shakily as he feels those fangs pierce the other side of his neck, drawing out his blood and sending him high once more.

"A virgin...?" a low voice purrs, sleepy and bemused and...in his head?

The hands on him tighten, and Izuku whimpers as it sends another spike of arousal through him. He has the vague sense of shame, of embarrassment, at the way he's humping the man's leg, rubbing the tent in his old jeans against the silky white fabric of the man's yukata—but it's a faint sensation. His anxiety is drowned out by the sheer amount of ecstasy coursing through him. Izuku feels it building in his stomach, coiling in his gut as his toes curl and his thighs clamp tight around the muscled thigh beneath him.

He's close, he so close, he—

Red glow fills the space, casting the figure beneath him in a crimson haze. His eyes are a brilliant, luminous scarlet, and the light of them makes the blood painting his mouth look black.

"Your lust..." the man rasps, hands skating up and down to fasten around Izuku's hips. His voice is low and wet, and Izuku can smell his own blood on his breath. "I can taste it."

Then the monster yanks Izuku's hips down, forcing him to grind up against the man's stomach. Izuku cries out, sobbing as the force, the crush, the smell sends him toppling over the edge of orgasm. He cums so hard his vision goes white, mouth open in a soundless wail as wave after wave of pleasure crests over him, shocking up his spine and curling in his scalp. He forgets to breathe for several precious moments, knocked breathless by it.

Vaguely, he feels the man's mouth on him again, trailing his tongue against the newest wound. Izuku's eyes flutter, and he collapses fully on top of him, lost in the afterglow. He's not sure whether the dizziness he feels is because of his orgasm or the blood loss, and he's not sure he particularly cares either. His limbs feel like jello.

"Mm, you're type O," that low voice muses, a hand trailing up and down Izuku's spine. "I thought it was merely that I hadn't fed in so long, but it's no wonder. Best way I've woken up in a long time." The hand pauses, and the red glow now saturating the inside of the coffin flickers. "Mind telling me what year it is?"

"It's..." Izuku begins, the question booting his brain back into gear. His thoughts begin to race as he blinks rapidly to clear his head, a myriad of questions and emotions and reactions flashing across his mind in quick succession. "I-It's 2237."

"A little over four hundred years this time," the man murmurs, brow furrowing in contemplation. "Odd. Someone usually wakes me up every turn of the century."

"U-Um, sir," Izuku tries after a moment, wriggling in mortification when he feels the mess he's made in his pants. "Can you, um, let me out now? If y-you're not going to finish me off?"

'Why would you ask that, WHY would you—'

"I would," the monster begins absently, licking a stray trail of Izuku's blood from the corner of his lips. He's looking at the faintest trickle of light that can be seen from the seam of the stone lid. "But it seems like it's still daylight out. The mausoleum must've collapsed..."

Izuku attempts to push himself up, but the idle hand on his back isn't as idle as he thought. Vampire strength, he realizes quickly. Biting his lip, he tries not to think of the bruises already blossoming on his hip. "No, that's just my flashlight! It's actually very late, so it's safe for you to let me out, I promise!"

Scarlet eyes narrow at him, grip tightening, and Izuku squeaks like a dog toy when those fangs scrape against his neck again. "You're not lying to me, are you? Little lust thrall?"

Izuku's face flushes brightly, and the man noses his cheek almost instinctively, as if following the blood flow. "I-I'm not! I'm not lying, I swear! Please, just—I don't want to die," he finishes weakly, hands fisting tightly in cloth pooling by the monster's sides.

The man's eyes soften slightly, and he sighs. The tang of warm iron feathers against Izuku's face. Reaching behind them both, the man swipes the lid to the side with one hand, the rough scrape of stone on stone making Izuku wince. Before Izuku can even move, he finds himself being hauled up and set outside the coffin on his feet. He staggers immediately, knees still weak, and nearly falls.

A calloused hand pushes against his back, keeping him upright. Izuku swallows and blinks away the spots crowding his vision, stumbling away to pick up his flashlight.

He turns again, cringing at the wet feeling between his legs. The man is sitting up in his box, peering at him curiously. Unable to help himself, Izuku tentatively asks, "So... you're n-not going to eat me?"

Tipping his head, the man gives him a hooded smile, dark hair shadowing his face as he answers, "Not anymore than I already have."

Izuku's face feels so hot he'd work well as a heat lamp.

The man steps smoothly out of his tomb and, to Izuku's surprise, folds into a bow. "Aizawa Shouta."

More habitually than anything, Izuku bows back. "Midoriya Izuku. It's, uh, nice to meet you?"

Aizawa smirks at him, the tips of his fangs flashing. "Well, Midoriya," he says, practically purring out the name. Izuku's breath catches. "Thank you for the meal. I hope you'll allow me the chance to taste you again. In a place where I can properly see you, this time."

With that, Aizawa rises from his bow and swirls into shadow, racing out of the doors of the mausoleum and leaving them banging open behind him. Moonlight spills into the tomb, and Izuku watches Aizawa's shadows zip through the cemetery and out into the night.

He has a feeling that he's just got himself into far more trouble than he knows.

[acaciapines]

i always forget how, like, raw, the opening of 17776 is....just the way you have to scroll for SO LONG, months and years passing by and nine's desperate loneliness and wanting and "i need you to know that i am getting good at being patient but i also need you to know that this is very hard." just. man. i dont think any other story has gripped me from the very start in this way. all the 'please answers.' how long it takes. god. god. 17776 i love you so much.

[skitskatdacat63]

Tradition vs Modernity vs Comradery

+ context & lore:

In the first drawing, Fernando is wearing a capote de paseo, which is what bullfighters wear before the match begins, as seen below:

In the second, Seb is shouting the very familiar "Olé" which is shouted by the crowd to praise the matador. He's a little brat, so of course he's yelling it for himself, but he did get many 💐

The third(which was a random sketch I had that I didn't think I'd finish tonight, so ignore if its messy) has very important context to me. Before going to the final act and killing the bull, matadors dedicate their montera(hat)(and symbolically: their kill) to a a specific person in the audience(or just the public as a whole.) Seb and Fernando are finally in the same color! Seb is bowing!!! And Fernando is honoring Seb!!!! Also ignore that I drew Seb's post-retirement hair. Though, maybe this drawing is supposed to represent Fernando making a dedication to his now-gone rival 😔(Seb: stop telling people im dead!)

Now, some more lore :D

So I talked about this in my last matador post but I'll expand more. I think it's very funny to characterize Fernando in this au as this fun-hating traditionalist. Because you have to understand; he's only this way when it comes to Seb. Because you absolutely KNOW he was doing silly, unserious shit back when he was younger. But absolutely god forbid Seb do anything silly.

It's very ironic because there literally is a part in the third act of a bull fight where it's basically encouraged to be a bit silly. This is a tad morbid, but basically right before they deliver the killing blow, some show their mastery over the bull by doing some superfluous action(ex. kissing the bull, kneeling in front of the bull.) There's some guy who literally would lean on the bull and mime taking a call. But anyways, Seb would def do this. I've not been able to draw it exactly how I want, but he would bend down and do his little bull horn symbol and mime charging at the bull. (Fernando, trying to make up reasons to hate Seb: oh my god, look at this blatant disrespect, look how he is disrespecting the bull, I cannot believe how rude this boy is!)

Also there's something to be said about how the matador shows mastery over the bull by kissing it or bowing to it...and Seb is technically the bull in this au and Fernando is the matador. There's just this unfortunate level of weird power inbalance that still lingers even though their rivalry is over and can't be affected anymore. There was no succinct answer about who truly was better because Seb was forced out of it. So there's always gonna be this level of "is he just pitying me? Is he just mocking me? Is he just patronizing me?" on Seb's part whenever Fernando praises him or makes dedications to him. And Fernando's always going to be haunted by the fact that there's no answer to who is truly better because he'll never know if Seb had reached his full potential or not. Anyways, they also have nasty sex while wearing their costumes and do weird bull/matador roleplay :)

[miraculouslumination]

Can we please bring back 20 episode seasons again. Please. Can we please NOT make 5-10 episodes a season the new "MAXIMUM". I am not asking by the way despite my usage of please. I am demanding but through gritted teeth, politely.

[not-another-robin]

The people have spoken!! Mighty Mouse lore drop under the cut! Very 5th grader core but it means a lot to me. Hope you enjoy!

The original Mighty Mouse, MJ Fierro, was a young soldier in the eighties who volunteered to be a super soldier experiment. She was granted heightened strength, agility, constitution, and senses - but her powers were deemed too unstable for the field, so they simply abandoned her. With her new powers and no help from the government, she decided to help her community of La Puente, anonymously thwarting injustice. She gained the local name "Mighty Mouse" because of her stature, but refused any accolade. After ten years of fighting, she left crimefighting behind her to start a family.

Fast forward 25 years, and MJs body is starting to deteriorate. A devastating cancer has formed, possibly caused by the experiments done to her. She passes away before 50, leaving behind 3 children.

The youngest of these children, Marcel Montgomery, starts to experience changes at the age of 18. Weird things are happening - they don't know their own strength, their senses are becoming overwhelming, and their clumsiness suddenly leads to no injury. After investigation, it seems the mutated DNA from their mother was passed down to them alone, activated at the same age their mother recieved her powers.

Marcel idolized their mother and took all of her lessons on heroism to heart. They decide that with great power comes great responsibility, and with the help of their friends, they take up the legacy of Mighty Mouse. They are bad at it. They lack coordination and any skill, and they start to worry their powers might attract undue attention to their family. They need someone to teach them.

Marcel strikes out on their own to the most super-crime infested city in the world - Gotham. Jumps right into the deep end. Alone, they start their search for Batman. He just seems like the mentoring type - I mean, how many robins are there at this point?

During a scarecrow attack, Batman encounters the new hero trying to get help. They get civilians to safety, but he warns them to stay away from the source. Sorrounded by scarecrow gas, Batman is in a vulnerable position - and Mighty goes in any way. Affected by the gas, Mighty starts to panic, momentarily distracting scarecrow and allowing Batman to neutralize him. He takes Mighty back to the cave for inspection after hearing their fears of not being able to protect their loved ones, and failing their mother.

At the cave, Batman insists Mighty is in over their head. They know that, that's why they're here. Mighty begs Batman to take them under his wing, just wanting to do right by the world and their mother.

"I just want to be like you. I want to be like her."

Batman knows the feeling.

And thus Mighty Mouse is the new sidekick in gotham! Posing as a personal assistant to Bruce Wayne, and also just being a personal assistant to Bruce Wayne, Mighty Mouse is born.

[sysig]

Requestober 2024 Sketches

The playlist is...well, it will be posting very soon! Keep an eye out for your req(s) every Wednesday and/or Friday after the 6th (I think?), pretty sure I got ‘em all >:3c

Doing the full season this time around! The entire mixed bag o’ candy haha

Day 1 had my beautiful boys!! ♥ I’m so happy that Yanderapy took the lead this year ah! It’s too bad I’m so out of practice with them haha, unconfident lines, but the idea was solidly in place from the word go - this was really the only image that came to mind for them, their weird dynamic hehe <3 Made for each other! I am glad their expressions came together so well in the final version, though I didn’t get to show Micchan kneeling! That’s alright tho ♪ Cute enough here hehe

Day 2 got a lot of notes! Kabu’s clothing design is So complex lol, just toss him behind Larry who’s like second nature to draw, suits are so so simple in comparison haha ♪ Still only ended up hiding bits of him! He did end up with his shoe on the outside of Larry’s, boxing him in that little bit <3 And look! His smirk!! As well as the “hiragana” on his sleeves while I was still under the impression that it was text and not Flame Texture lol

And yes, as you can see, I ended up going with the alt doodle, they got more! I was quite tempted by Larry holding Kabu since he’s so tiny lol, but that would’ve required drawing his details! No! Hide him!! The pose is fun and silly and cute tho haha, very plush-coded ♪ And then also a little smech for funsies <3 Just to follow up their staring-at-each-other-in-a-gay-way they ended up with ♥ Rather a fan of Kabu’s hands pulling Larry in :)

Day 3′s was such a pose change!!! Mostly for Edgar, though he’s still kneeling here, inexplicably haha - the angle changed for the final version, and both of their head angles and just, ah, nothing more than a general outline of what I was going for. I’m pleased with both tho! I think the final is much more clear and readable, but there’s always a bit of fun with Edgar looking down/Scriabin looking up haha. I suppose it’s more appropriate than an angel would be looking down on a devil, isn’t it? Haha

Day 4 was another easy one at least, the pose immediately came to mind to show off Nny’s clothes on an even ganglier, thinner frame haha. Like I said, I really tried for more fullbodies this year, so I had to give the tiny version a proper swing on-page! Ran out of room for the larger one, but I really wanted to draw him holding his shoe with his hand haha. You can see the goopmonster on his shirt here too! :D I think his annoyed face is quite cute hehe <3

Day 5 was practically a freebie, and I took absolute full advantage hehehe ♪ If I get the prompt of “soft” of course I’m going to opt for plushies! I’m back in my Webkinz era, and Tala is big big big on Webkinz as well :) And her being a plushie has something of an impact there too lol, but it was really fun to look over all my little guys! I ended up having an extra handful of thoughts about all of them so they’ll be getting their own post(s) :D Good too, since I didn’t talk much about Embroidery’s closet cosplay haha

Day 6 was actually a bit of a question mark for me at first! :0 Not as though I don’t love when Edgar has to clean up Scriabin’s self-inflicted problems haha, I just wasn’t sure what it should be! Making it seasonal helped a bit there - lots of sticker burrs around here when we go walking haha. The bonus ended up being a digital-only, but it was a good motivator to finish these, and then the full poses came to mind - I’m not sure why I was more excited to work on full body poses, but I really was! Maybe the success of meeting my self-imposed challenge haha

I ended up scrapping the alt since it reminded me a little too much of one of the ‘22 reqs - trying to keep things fairly fresh! It was also a little too cartoony haha, where would Edgar suddenly pull such strength from! This doesn’t look like a dream! At least it wouldn’t have been a nightmare of Scriabin being hurt :’) Rescue!

Day 7 was another insta-idea! Really going back and forth on those lol, it sprouted into my head fully formed! This was actually one of a couple I wrote down as I was away from my notebook while brainstorming, so it came back as a mini script; one of more dialogue-heavy ones! Chicken or egg, I wonder, hmm. I always draw Smoker with her sleeves up even though she usually wears them down haha, I dunno. Had a heck of a time with Angie’s hair! I tend to make hair super super fluffy but hers is long and straight and presumably weighs itself down! Doesn’t floof! You’d think having heavy hair myself would incline me towards knowing anything about it but nope lol

Little bouncy concepts haha, and poor Mousey so jealous in the middle, surrounded with them having the most fun!

Day 8 was fairly simple with such a focused ask of them eating Specific Food - can do! Chibis just felt right for such a cute food haha. Would Edgar have a crepe pan, I wonder... I suppose a lot of it comes down to the batter, I haven’t made crepes in such a long time so I wouldn’t know anymore haha

Day 9 featured the slouchy throne! You can see I like the little leggies haha, I did make it a touch more proportional in the final version but who can resist the sillies! Had to draw it and Mettaton separately so I could easily see their silhouettes, I think it all came together in the end fairly well :) Had one heck of a time getting the bottom of his shoes to play nice, but I’m proud of how it turned out!!

Day 10′s, who can resist skelehugs ♥ No I! Not me!! The original had them a lot more upright, I’m glad I went with my note of leaning them back a bit more. Also had Papyrus’ legs on either side of Sans, protective <3 I do like both, but I think they look a bit more reasonably comfortable in the final version, figuring out contact points with one of Papyrus’ legs all the way to one side was too much haha. No boots on the couch! I think they look a bit younger in the final version too, maybe from their eyebrow expressions? Interesting how such small changes can make a big difference ♪

Day 11 was originally going to feature a bunch more Pokemon!! Several of my pink-and-purple faves all gathered around MewTwo <3 Flaafy and Musharna and Sableye my beloved 💜 And of course Whismur!! Can’t but Whismur all the time haha, but in the end I opted to go for the simpler(?) option of just the two ‘mons interacting

Whismur is so spooked by you, even lying down!! Even tho I drew it so I can see it right in front of me, I just can’t imagine MewTwo lying down to investigate haha. More posing changes! Lot of ‘em this year. Pls to quiet, cats have very sensitive hearing, you don’t need to shout

Day 12 started off with probably the Correct Amount of confusion lol, considering even @cutiebetutie​ didn’t expect this to be the matchup lolol, still deeply hilarious to me. But hey, what was I going to do, question a crackship?? Do I look like the kind of person who would say no to exploring some possibilities? Of course I had to give them a scope lol

Haha, “Alt” in quotes as I knew this would actually be the full version, the handholding is cute but where’s the dynamic! There is something there after all! I think so anyway, some tiny tiny sliver that they could start from, and what more foot in the door do you really need? If Nny’s on his charm that drew Devi in, I don’t see why someone a little more airheaded like Jake couldn’t be beguiled haha, if he lasts long enough for that ♪ It’s very tense! I wish him well, I wonder if he could protect himself... Just cut and run, Jake!! Makes for an interesting suspense, that’s for sure haha

Day 13‘s kigurumis!!! Yay!!!! Smol and I successfully wore ours for Halloween this year, we’re them fr fr haha, definitely one of my favourites from this season <3 <3 They’re so cute! Biggest change from here to there is probably where the legs start/end haha, kigurumi have funny little legs hehe. And also Papyrus’ gloves! Sans ended up without any, I can’t resist a hand plate here or there ♪ Also him closing his one good eye to pun about was an accident until it wasn’t haha, just another excuse to do a touch of rereading :3

Day 14‘s turned out so good for how cramped the sketch was!!! Gaster’s hardly there at all! Which is appropriate in its own way haha, filling in the rest of his details was pretty fun tho :) Papyrus looks a lot more desperate in this version which I do like, but him openly enjoying himself is very sweet, who could deny him that <3 Quite pleased with how his arm and hand posing came together in the end as well, fairly minor changes but I think it all flows together much nicer :D

Day 15′s word bubbles turned out way cleaner in the sketch than the final version?? Calls for more practice I suppose; it is asymmetrical, but it does look nice! Maybe needed more colour swatches haha, more and more rows! Edgar’s unimpressed look in the final version is quite good I think but there’s almost a kind of urgency with no eyes behind blank glasses hmm, they both have their merits! I applaud everyone who caught Scriabin holding the bi flag as his swatches! :D Good eye!

Day 16 began The Sleepies lol, I was a bit tired while doodling the first go and it uhm. Well. I mean. You can see lol. S’a bit goofy haha

The alt was much much better! I did end up leaving out the grass which I’m a Little disappointed about - feels too manicured, too sterile in the final version! But I really couldn’t figure a way of adding a bit of visual noise that wouldn’t look flat as well! Minecraft, eh, lol. I am quite pleased with how round Moomin turned out tho :D He looks like a marshmallow in the final version! Yay!

I actually doodled Day 17′s concept before 16 since it came to me so strongly - I do kind of like how much more upright Mob is here, him being as hunched over as he is in the final version adds to the moodiness of the piece I feel. He really is such a good boy! I don’t wish him dark and upsettings!

Day 18‘s didn’t get a paper sketch as I was verrryyyyy tired and had no energy to scan, so skipped the step that would make scanning necessary haha. For all that, I do rather like the digital sketch tho! I think Snufkin’s left leg is a bit better proportioned, and his expression is maybe a bit cheekier? Moomin’s perfect, no notes haha. I also ended up really liking their tail expressions, how Snuf’s is kind of straight and flat while Moomin’s is very roundy hehe <3

I know I said Day 20 doesn’t count but I mean, it’s on the same page! It got the “Day 20″ label! Sketch can go here why not haha. Happy belated Ace Week! I thought it was fun to put a bunch of pink lovehearts around the big central ace heart for me specifically hehe 💜💗

I mentioned in the tags that Day 26‘s original concept was too big to try to do all at once and ahhhh I wish I’d been able to swing it!! I wish I’d been able to do the whole thing!!!! I love scenes like this the most!! Little isometric rooms with little isometric characters all chatting and interacting and being cute and silly and tiny!! I love that! Alas, it had to stay a sketch, but here it is!! Can you recognize everyone here? The main three got the center, but who could the rest be :3c And what of their costumes! Hehe ♪

Still fighting back the sleepies for what ended up being the final version so the dialogue was left much more vague than the caption haha, the aliens don’t even have feet here! I suppose they are meant to be in fish costumes lol, it tracks that only the fully-human Captain’s legs would end there, but definitely not intentionally done so lol. I like ZEX’s expression here so muuuuch ahh I wish I’d been able to capture it a bit better in the digital version! Always something for next time haha

I actually ended up drawing Day 30′s sketch very very last, so this was the last doodle of the season! Me, projecting my tiredness onto the Vargases? Nooo <3 Another one that ended up very very different from the final version, I just needed Something down to paper and out of my head to work with really - I knew even while drawing this that I was going to end up with something very different haha. Sometimes hand just does whatever it wants pft. The dialogue was the star of the show here! And you can see what Scriabin was up to, obscured by the couch haha

Day 31, penultimate sketches for the final day! I really do love Scriabin hiding behind Edgar - wants to be included but not That close, very much with Edgar in the way of anything bad happening to him haha. More pose changes! I like both versions, Todd holding Shmee for comfort or him spilling out of his lap as he focuses all his attention on Joel <3 Both cute in different ways!

Cats are still not one of my strong-suits, but I have been drawing them a bit more recently! Admittedly of the cartoon variety, but even that has had some effect I think! Like their little triangle noses, and the way their ears scoop inwards, and whiskers - little things! I like it! I had fun with these little concept poses, Joel kind of curiously huddling on Edgar’s chest, looking at the world from a safe vantage spot haha. Hold him gently! He deserves it!

All the sketches from this year! I ended up having a lot of fun this season even if it was a little lighter than previous years haha, thank you again to everyone who joined!! ♥

[scatterpatter]

HEY YOU SHOULD WATCH THE BRAVE LITTLE TOASTER

Oh nooooo if only there were an easy way to find it tho... if only... oh man... if only- oh oops sorry I tripped-

Oh man if only it were easy to watch... oh man...................

[simgerale]

me after attempting to get back into sims and realizing i had a lot more to do than play the game

[tleeaves]

The art is lovely and now I'm gonna ramble because that's what I do when I care about something.

For the love of women, please PLEASE can fan artists remember to add muscle to their Shadowhunter ladies? I'll commend Bowater for cleverly giving James that sculpted and lean look without making him a beefcake (nothing against beefcakes, I'd love to hug them), but Cordelia is once again suffering from Arms And Shoulders Too Slender It's Hard To Even Imagine Her Picking Up A Sword. There is some there, yes, but artists shouldn't be afraid of giving particularly Female Main Characters weight and toned muscle. Cordelia is supposed to be nearly the same height as James as far as I can remember, and she's curvy, and full, and she wields a sword like it's second nature to her. Please explain why she looks so tiny in James' lap.

Also I'm pretty sure marriage runes are supposed to go over the heart whenever possible (thinking about Will's parabatai rune being over his heart instead -- he didn't get Tessa to draw over the scar, did he??) and... either I'm looking at the picture wrong or James' rune is not over where his heart should be.

For the matter, where are their other runes and scars?? James' Voyance rune isn't even on his hand. And I'm pretty sure he's right handed. I could have that wrong though.

Another thing: no one can ever decide what Cordelia's hair looks like and it's the funniest thing to me. This is what happens when all you do is vaguely say the colour is like fire but also like rose petals but also a flowing river of those things but also is Red (probably for redhead, but then from there I never understand where the rose petal analogy comes from considering the typical rose is a deep bloody colour -- I do acknowledge the existence of those light orange varieties though which might more closely resemble red hair). In the end, I'm glad readers can infer what they want and imagine the characters how they like.

Anyone else think James looks like he's built like a tennis player? Oddly specific, maybe, but it was a thought I had. Mostly the arms and somewhat narrow body.

James' hair is nice, his eyes are an interesting take on gold in the shadows. Bowater managed to also make him look closely related to his father, so bravo for that.

In the end, the focus is obviously on the marriage runes and not other physical aspects outside of it being clear that this is James and Cordelia. Bowater's style is very beautiful and elegant. Love the way fabric and lighting is done too. I'll add also that it is possible to be a smaller person who is slender but still strong so I mean Cordelia's not necessarily done wrong, I just interpret her appearance differently. Obviously, they're both hot and they're both attractive and I have my qualms with the series, chronicles, and author -- the fandom I am so-so on, though I'm still here, aren't I? And I'm taking the time to ramble about my thoughts on a piece of fanart -- but this is good. Gorgeous, even. Both James and Cordelia are beautiful.

[anderstrevelyan]

Ran an errand near where I went to grad school, and I almost want to get a drink at the bar I did a lot of writing at back then and work on my fic…

…but then was gripped by the horrifying mental image of running into an old professor and being asked what I’m working on 🙃

[nyoomerr]

ouughh i'm going to have such a hard time tagging shen shixiong au when it's done

it is 100% written from a place of 'sj!sqq is a miserable little man who i wish got a happy ending' but it is also 'sj!sqq realistically would not HAVE a happy ending because he has been so thoroughly fucked up by his own trauma'

and i just know that no matter how i tag it i'm going to have sj antis commenting that i was too soft and apologetic on his behalf and sj fans commenting that i was too cruel to him (._.`)

[pardonmydelays]

gonna kill the minotaur now wish me luck

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Blood of the Hero Ch 16 (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.

(AO3 link)

Previous // Next

Tilieth listened to the wind chimes in the distance as she washed Link’s hair. The world around her was warm and bright, and her pack was full of freshly harvested mushrooms and herbs. The bathing area for the Sheikah was a pond just up the hill from the village. There were two ponds, actually, though one had a strange massive flower bud that glowed, and the area was considered sacred. Tilieth didn’t want to upset anyone, though she did bottle some of the water, so she took Link to the watering hole everyone else used. It granted a beautiful view of the village, and it gave her some peace.

After Tilieth and Impa had chased Abel, and their subsequent return to the village, Tilieth had called for help, and Kollin had arrived quickly. Abel was given a potion to alleviate the alarmingly fast rate he was bleeding through his shoulder injury, and while the wound was now gone, her husband was utterly spent from blood loss, stress, and a lack of sleep. She’d stayed by his side until he’d passed out, and then she’d resolved to take care of Link before returning to her vigil. She’d needed to clear her mind.

Where should she even start? She was still reeling, heart having only just slowed down as she’d watched Abel steadily fall asleep, his hand clutched desperately in hers. The moment of clarity she’d had as they’d teleported to the village allowed her to stay calm for her poor husband, but now she was alone with Link, and her head wouldn’t stay quiet.

Abel had hurt her? He had gotten so desperately out of control that he’d hurt her? It was clearly a complete accident, one he regretted so much he was terrified to even get near her, but it was frightening in itself.

How far gone was her husband, that he could lose such control of his mind? Had he always been this bad and she’d simply failed to notice? Tilieth tried to think of other instances where perhaps Abel simply wasn’t acting right, but aside from his short temper or paranoia…

Perhaps that was it, then. It wasn’t that he’d always been this way, it was just the logical conclusion to worsening of his already bad habits.

But how could she possibly help him with this? What had tipped him over the edge? Was it the lack of sleep? She knew he hadn’t slept at least one night. She had to be more on top of it – her husband had always been the strong one, but it was clear now that in some ways the poor man was downright brittle.

And that was frightening too. Because Abel had always been her steady rock, and now he was crumbling.

This wasn’t the first time the man had faltered, of course. He’d snapped at her before, he’d shown signs of being worn down. But this was… far more extreme than she imagined him capable of.

Sleep, she resolved to herself. He needs to sleep well. I have to make sure he sleeps well.

Sighing, Tilieth glanced down at her son, who was boneless under her care. The past day or two he’d wake up easily to stimulation, and the cool water had startled his eyes open, but the gentle touch of his mother had soothed him back to sleep. She didn’t mind. He’d already eaten. He could rest. Hylia knew he needed it.

Carefully, Tilieth pulled Link out of the shallow edge of the pond, laying him on a blanket she’d brought and wrapping him in it. Link shivered, brow furrowing in discomfort, and she kissed his forehead.

I can be the strong one for a little while, she surmised, smiling down at her baby boy. They were just going to stay in Kakariko. She could run a calm, domestic scene just fine. She wasn’t alone here. She had plenty of ideas already for what she could do while her boys slept.

“Tilieth?”

She jumped, startled, but the voice was familiar. Glancing down the hill a little bit, she caught sight of the Sheikah chief, Impa. “Oh! You made it back safely! I was worried.”

Lady Impa smiled. “I was worried too. I checked in with Kollin – it seems Sir Abel is resting now?”

Tilieth nodded. “He…”

She didn’t know what to say, honestly, so she just gave a weak shrug with a small smile.

“He loves you,” Lady Impa said, reading her body language. Her words were spoken with sincerity and conviction. “He loves both of you so much. And he’s strong. He’ll be okay. He just… I’ve seen it. With others. The Calamity left scars on us all. I’m just… afraid that perhaps his wounds have not had the chance to heal to that point.”

No. They truly haven’t. “I hope you don’t mind us staying in Kakariko for a little longer. I appreciate your hospitality. You’ve been so kind to us.”

“It’s my pleasure,” the Sheikah chief replied warmly. “I’m going to return to the village, but I wanted to find you to make sure you were alright. Your husband’s horse is in the stable with Epona.”

“Thank you,” Tilieth gratefully said. “Truly. For everything.”

Lady Impa was too humble to acknowledge the gratitude once again, so she bowed her head and departed. Tilieth looked down at her son, drying him off a little and dressing him in the tunic she’d made for him, as well as a fresh set of trousers she’d been gifted by one of the Sheikah. Then she braced herself and clipped the harness to her back, slowly carrying the boy back into the village.

Liyah, the innkeeper, was waiting for her return, and she smiled warmly. “Welcome back, dear. Your husband’s been sleeping quite peacefully. Can I get you anything?”

“No, I’m fine, thank you,” Tilieth acknowledged as she grunted, contradicting her words. Golden Three, why did her baby have to be so heavy? She couldn’t imagine hauling him around at his healthy weight – he was far skinnier now than he should be.

“He looks much more comfortable,” Liyah noted cheerily, leaning over Link as Tilieth tucked him back into the bed. “A good bath will do that. Perhaps you can help your husband clean up when he’s awake.”

Tilieth hummed, brushing hair out of Link’s face before glancing at her husband in the bed beside them. Abel’s face was worn and pale, but at least he looked at peace. He still had dried blood caked on his neck, though – his doublet had been removed to examine the wound, and the dirt, grime, and clots from the last day or so were evident where the clean bandages didn’t cover. A bath was a good idea. She was a little worried to take Abel any distance from the village, though.

“Oh, I remember long ago, before the Calamity, how there used to be this wonderful bath house,” Liyah continued, eyes lost to the past as her voice became dreamy. “My husband used to be a royal scientist, you know, and we’d travel often. Well, he would. I tried to go with him as much as I could. But ah, Tilieth, the bath house that my people built near Akkala! There were so many Sheikah spread across central locations of Hyrule, you see, so we made little settlements sometimes. Everyone loved that place – it became a vacationing spot, even! Utilizing the hot springs from the Goron lands was a genius idea.”

“It sounds nice,” Tilieth commented, imagining how wonderful a warm bath sounded. And to achieve one with no extra effort in making a fire to heat the water! She wondered if her family would have a chance to see Death Mountain at all on this journey.

The thought of it was certainly exciting, but also a little daunting. But now wasn’t the time to spiral over that. Tilieth knew that what everyone needed right now was rest, so she tried to only focus on the moment.

“Perhaps you should get some sleep too, my dear,” the innkeeper suggested.

Tilieth considered it, but to be honest, she was far too wired. If she laid down, she would only worry, not sleep, so she shook her head. “I don’t think sleep is attainable for me at the moment.”

“Well, then get yourself some fresh air,” Liyah insisted. “I can watch these two. If they awaken, I will retrieve you.”

Leave both of them? Tilieth watched the elderly innkeeper uncertainly. But, the more she pondered it, the better the idea sounded. Abel’s clothes were threadbare at best, worn thin from years of use with little to no repair. She had an opportunity to make something for him just as she had for Link. Perhaps she could even make something for herself instead of using an old repurposed dress as a tunic.

Yes… she supposed stepping out would be good. In fact, she was maybe even a little excited about it. Her heart still sped with anxiety as she looked at her husband, though.

“He’s resting,” Liyah said gently, following her gaze. “It will do neither of you any good to hover over him for now. Take care of yourself so that you can look after him, my dear. Now is the best time to do so.”

Tilieth sighed a little, feeling weight lifted from her shoulders as she smiled softly at the innkeeper. “Thank you. I… I needed to hear that.”

With a caring smile mirrored back at her, Tilieth happily went outdoors, feeling freer than she had in a while, ready to explore the village and set to work helping her boys. She could talk to Hakeez, the woman attempting to rebuild her clothing shop, in order to get materials; she’d helped Tilieth make Link’s tunic, after all. There had to be something Tilieth could offer in return. Perhaps she could make some garments for Hakeez as well?

She found the older Sheikah woman with the young mother who had just given birth recently. The new mother looked exhausted, nearly in tears as Hakeez tried to assure her with an offered baby blanket she clearly had made for her.

“Come on now, Pala, it’ll get better,” Hakeez tried to assure the young woman.

“Mellie just won’t stop crying,” the mother, Pala, lamented.

Tilieth recognized the desperation born from exhaustion, and she quickly stepped up. “Let me help. I can look after Mellie alongside Hakeez so you can get some sleep.”

Pala glanced at her, vaguely recognizing Tilieth from the celebrations the village had held for Mellie’s birth the other day. Hakeez quickly nodded, latching on to the idea. “Yes, we can help! Get some rest, dear, you need it.”

The tired mother didn’t put up much of a fight when a more familiar face made the argument, and Mellie was in Tilieth’s arms in no time, wrapped in the blanket Hakeez had made for her.

“Poor dear,” Hakeez lamented as the two exited the home, Mellie gazing up at Tilieth curiously. Tilieth smiled back at the newborn, admiring her beautiful red eyes, large and innocent as they were, light skin unblemished by the sun and not carrying a care in the world.

It was amazing, really, looking at such new life in such a broken world. In the chaos of Tilieth’s life, just holding the baby and standing there, rocking gently, gazing down at her, brought the tired woman some peace of her own.

Memories of her own children flooded her mind and heart, when she’d held Link for the first time, when her first few months with him were harrowing and exhausting, when Lyra made even more of a fuss than her brother at the same age.

She remembered Abel being there to help, having requested time home from the military, supporting her every step of the way.

Tilieth bit her lip, holding the baby close, closing her eyes and just soaking up the moment, remembering the love she had for her family and how much they loved her in return.

“Are you alright?” Hakeez asked quietly.

Tilieth exhaled slowly, swallowing the lump in her throat and smiling a little and nodding. The craftswoman continued to talk, then, being rather chatty and not wishing to stand in silence for so long. She cooed at the little newborn in Tilieth’s arms a moment before telling her about how she had made more clothes for the village. She did lament, though, that it was difficult trying to reestablish bartering and trade; money was rather meaningless within the village, and sometimes people’s offers of trade for her clothes were not what she’d hope for.

“What exactly do you need?” Tilieth asked, latching on to the topic as Mellie slept in her arms.

“Honestly, what I need is some of that stamina elixir that Kollin seems to know how to make,” Hakeez snorted. “I swear he hoards it for himself and his fiancée.”

Tilieth glanced at the seamstress, gleaning who it could be, confirming, “Lady Impa is engaged to Kollin?”

Hakeez nodded dismissively, sighing. “The point is that I’m always worn out and could use some of that stamina elixir.”

Well, if Tilieth wanted Hakeez’s help with supplies to make new clothes for Abel, she supposed she’d start there. Glancing down at Mellie to confirm she was still asleep, Tilieth headed towards Lady Impa’s abode, though she opted to stop by the inn first to check on her family once more.

The innkeeper, Liyah, looked a little surprised at the bundle in Tilieth’s arms, and then she chuckled. “Did poor Pala need a break?”

Tilieth smiled and nodded. “I didn’t mind. She looked pretty haggard.”

“The first one is always the hardest,” Liyah commented.

Tilieth bit her lip, thinking of her two children, and she looked at Link. Yes, it was certainly an adjustment when he’d been a baby, though Lyra had certainly been fussier.

Goddess, she missed those days.

Link was sleeping peacefully as usual, and, for once, Abel was still managing to rest as well. Mellie stirred, grunting a little, and Tilieth made a hasty retreat before the newborn could wake either of them. The little one’s wails caught the attention of one of the guards stationed in front of Lady Impa’s estate, and Tilieth recognized him as the child’s father. After quickly reassuring the worried man, Tilieth suggested that the little one probably needed a diaper change.

The guard blinked, looking anxious. Tilieth had to laugh at him, wondering if he’d even cleaned the baby up yet or if it had all been Pala. It was no wonder the poor woman was overwhelmed; at least Abel had helped. Though Tilieth supposed Abel had been staying home full time while this man was still working, but…

“Why don’t I show you how to do it?” She offered, tilting her head to the side.

“I—well, I don’t know, Pala—”

“Is exhausted,” Tilieth cut in. “It wouldn’t be a bad idea to help her sometimes, you know. Mellie needs both her parents’ love and care.”

The guard deflated, relenting. Tilieth forgot all her worries as she spent the next ten minutes trying not to laugh at the man dry heaving while cleaning his little girl’s mess.

Men were so silly sometimes. They could handle blood and gore of the battlefield, but a soiled diaper was too much for some of them. Abel had muscled his way through it with Link, but Tilieth could tell the first few times he’d been similarly uneasy.

Mellie seemed much happier in her father’s arms afterward, and his partner at their post said he would watch for a while so the man could be with his baby girl. Tilieth took the opportunity to head inside the chief’s estate, feeling a little satisfied that she’d helped the guard and his wife.

She hadn’t expected to see Sheik inside.

“—should tell them already, this is—”

“What difference does it make?” Sheik hissed, body language tight and defensive as she crossed her arms so tightly she might as well have been hugging herself. “I have my path and he—”

Sheik cut herself off as she caught sight of Tilieth. Her face was still hidden, but Tilieth could imagine her cheeks were flushed with how worked up she seemed to be.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude,” Tilieth said carefully, feeling guilty. She’d gotten so used to just wandering the village, she really should have knocked.

“Yet you did,” Sheik snapped, eyes narrowing.

“That’s enough,” Lady Impa said sharply. “We’ll continue this discussion later.”

The Sheikah warrior sighed, the fight draining out of here, and she walked by Tilieth without another word, exiting the building.

“Is everything all right?” Tilieth asked quietly. She supposed it really wasn’t her business, but if she could help at all, she wanted to offer. Lady Impa had done so much for her and her family, after all.

The chief seemed to debate something, watching Tilieth for a long moment, before she looked away. “Some matters simply must resolve themselves. How can I help you, Tilieth? Is Sir Abel alright?”

“Yes, he’s fine right now,” Tilieth hastily answered, embarrassed she’d seemingly pushed herself into Sheikah affairs. “I just… I was looking for Kollin. Not—not for Link or Abel, but I wanted to see if I could get a stamina elixir for Hakeez.”

Lady Impa raised an eyebrow. “What does Hakeez want with a stamina elixir?”

“I’m assuming she wants to not be tired,” Tilieth chuckled a little, lightening up. “I just want to make a tunic for Abel, but I need something to trade to get materials.”

Before she could stop herself, she added, “Speaking of Kollin, though, I didn’t realize you two were engaged! You two seem like you have a good chemistry with each other. When are you getting married?”

Lady Impa blinked a moment, eyebrows rising, before she giggled, growing somewhat bashful. “Oh. Well, thank you. I… we haven’t decided yet. We only got engaged pretty recently.”

Tilieth wished she could be there for it, but she knew that wasn’t likely to happen. Instead, she said, “Well, I wish you two all the best and happiness in the world. You deserve it.”

“You’re too kind,” Lady Impa quickly dismissed politely. “But if you’re searching for Kollin, he’s likely up by the fairy spring. It’s just beyond the shrine.”

Ah, yes, the spring that the villagers kept talking about. Perhaps the water did indeed having healing properties. She hadn’t given any to Link yet, so she hadn’t been sure.

Wait… fairy spring?

“He might be trying to talk to… well… a Great Fairy lives there,” Lady Impa explained. “But her power is dependent on rupees, and we hardly have any. She can still sometimes emerge, and Kollin tries to pay his respects.”

“Can she heal Link?” Tilieth immediately asked. “I’ll give her all the rupees we’ve found!”

Lady Impa watched her sadly. “I don’t think so. She can summon fairies, but I don’t think Cotera can actually heal anyone. But I suppose it’s worth asking, now that his wounds are not as dire as they used to be.”

Tilieth hastened outside, not waiting a moment longer for explanation, though she at least threw a hasty thanks over her shoulder.

It didn’t take long to reach the spring she’d passed a couple times by now, and she wondered why she hadn’t been told of this sooner. All the Sheikah seemed a little cagey on the matter, as if they wanted to protect Cotera, but it wasn’t as if Tilieth could possibly hurt a Great Fairy.

She supposed perhaps they worried Abel might try, to help Link. Honestly, at this rate, she wouldn’t put it passed him.

But there shouldn’t be a need for such force or concern! Great Fairies were powerful magical creatures, surely she could help Link somehow!

Kollin stood before the strange looking bud Tilieth had seen before, and she slid to a halt, catching his attention.

“Is that the Great Fairy?” She asked, curious and confused. “Is she in there?”

Kollin looked a bit startled, and he hesitated to respond. Tilieth was about to plead when he finally admitted, “Yes, but she hardly comes out anymore. We don’t have much to offer.”

“I have rupees!” Tilieth hastily said, pulling out all three hundred that she’d collected. “Take them!”

The bud made a strange noise, dark and even ominous sounding, and Tilieth immediately retracted her arms, nervous.

“Don’t be afraid, dear girl,” the voice spoke, sounding distorted. “Please, help me restore my power.”

Kollin smiled reassuringly. “I promise it’s safe. Please, let me see the rupees. I think she usually asks for one hundred.”

“Yes, yes, a mere one hundred rupees is all I require!” The supposed Great Fairy agreed.

Tilieth wasn’t entirely sure she trusted the voice, but she did trust Kollin, so she carefully handed the money over to him. A large hand reached out of the bud, snatching it and nearly knocking Kollin over, and Tilieth gasped, growing more scared by the moment. The voice made a sound of delight before the bud opened with a squeal, releasing puffs of pink smoke and blinding Tilieth. When she blinked her eyes open, she was dazzled by the sight of an enormous woman half submerged in water, adorned in shells and jewels, fairy wings peeking out from behind her ears.

Tilieth stared, amazed, mouth open.

“Oh, what a feeling!” The Great Fairy exclaimed, stretching and smiling. “That first breath of fresh air after such a long time of decay… it’s just so intoxicating!”

The fairy turned her eyes to Tilieth, leaning over a little and smiling serenely. “Thanks to you, I’ve been returned to my former glory. And as they say—one good turn deserves another. I can help you—”

“My son!” Tilieth immediately interjected, desperation pushing through her fear. “My son is grievously wounded, please, can you heal him?”

The Great Fairy gasped a little. “Oh, my. My dear girl, I wish that I could – perhaps my children can assist you?”

Tilieth wilted, already knowing that regular fairies were incapable of fixing the matter. The Great Fairy seemed to read that, and Kollin replied, “They haven’t been able to help, I’m afraid. But if you can summon them, I would like to have a few ready to assist my people and any traveler who passes through.”

“Of course,” Cotera replied. She raised a hand, and within seconds fairies seemed to materialize from the sky like snow petals, gently descending, wings flapping peacefully. Kollin bottled a few, thanking the Great Fairy once more, and then passed Tilieth, patting her on the shoulder sympathetically.

Tilieth stood alone, overwhelmed and upset, hope dashed once more, and she shivered as a drizzle started to speckle the area.

“Oh, dear girl,” the Great Fairy looked her over, eyes sad. “I may not be able to heal your boy, but let me help you in other ways. Allow me to enhance your clothing. It’s the least I can do, but I will need the necessary materials.”

Tilieth looked up to stare at the magical creature once more. Enhance her clothes?

“You see, I can increase their abilities to protect, or enhance inherent gifts,” Cotera explained.

But that meant— “Can you help me protect Link?”

“Of course,” Cotera answered gently. “Bring me his clothing and I can ensure he is safer than before.”

That was all Tilieth needed to hear before she was rushing down the hill back into the village. When she entered the inn, though, she immediately realized that Abel was awake and trying to ignore the innkeeper’s words.

“—all right, dear, your family is fine—”

“Abel!” Tilieth called, running to her husband as his eyes locked with hers. Abel reached out shakily, and Tilieth dragged him into a tight hug, whispering, “It’s okay, love, I’m here. Everyone’s safe, I promise.”

Abel felt heavy in her arms, sagging against her and trembling. He was clearly still exhausted, but he didn’t bother trying to argue any point, simply resting his head against her shoulder, hands grappling weakly on her tunic. He didn’t seem to have any more apologies, having spilled them repeatedly earlier, and Tilieth was honestly thankful for it. Her poor husband had apologized enough.

Tilieth kissed his ear, shifting and trying to get him to settle back down on the pillows. “You need to rest, Abel. Don’t worry about anything, okay?”

She supposed it was silly telling her husband not to worry. But he truly needed to rest – he’d driven himself nearly insane.

Abel watched her uncertainly, turning his head to look at Link. Despite wiggling a little on the mattress in an attempt to get comfortable, he couldn’t quite settle, though. Tilieth sighed, and Abel looked even guiltier for it.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him gently, brushing some hair out of his face. “It’s okay. Why don’t we get you cleaned up?”

If he wasn’t going to sleep, he could at least rest. Tilieth would make sure of it. She advised Abel to stay put while she stripped Link of his tunic and trousers, leaving him bundled under some blankets, before guiding her husband to stand.

Abel was shaky on his feet, but he followed his wife wherever she went, letting her wrap an arm around his waist.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered as they exited the inn.

“No more apologies,” Tilieth said firmly. “What happened is over, Abel—”

Her husband stiffened, looking at her and digging his heels into the ground. “I hurt you.”

“Yes, and then you hurt yourself,” Tilieth fired back. “Honey, I… you have to let me help you. It won’t get any better if you don’t.”

“But I—”

“You are exhausted,” she cut in, putting a hand on his cheek to settle him. “Honey, can’t you see that running away or beating yourself up about it will only make it worse?”

Tears were evident in her husband’s eyes, but he held them in, looking away and kissing her palm. When she got no further argument from him, Tilieth guided him outside of the village. Neither really knew what to say or if anything should be said as they moved. Tilieth was trying to figure out if she could even start confronting what had happened. She was afraid her words would fail her, that she would somehow make things worse, but she knew she was far more emotionally intelligent than her husband and they truly needed to address it. But Abel needed a moment to rest first. The bath would be good for that.

But first, they had to take care of helping Link. Tilieth wasn’t going to keep a Great Fairy waiting.

The fairy fountain was empty when Tilieth arrived, making her heart plummet. Had the Great Fairy left?

“What is this?” Abel asked, distracted. He watched it cautiously, but also with fascination – he too was taken in by the beauty of the place. His eyes also immediately caught sight of the fairies floating around. “Til, is… is this…?”

“A fairy fountain,” Tilieth finished for him, trying not to sound as disappointed as she felt.

The water in the fountain rustled, making both of them jump, and then Cotera burst forth with an excited cry. Abel instinctively pushed Tilieth behind him, reaching for a weapon he wasn’t armed with, and Til tried to calm her husband hastily.

“It’s all right!” She said as the Great Fairy tilted her head to the side.

“Oh, you brought a friend!” The Great Fairy noted, intrigued. “He’s cute!”

Abel stammered, blushing, not expecting the remark. Tilieth laughed, but then she walked around her husband to offer the clothes. “Please, can you bless these? They’re my son’s.”

Cotera leaned over, examining the items. “Oh, yes, I should be able to. I only require a few items to do so.”

After hearing the listed items, Tilieth dug through her bag worriedly, and with great relief realized she had all the necessary ones. Abel looked between his wife and the Great Fairy, bemused, and watched as the large mystical woman received the offerings.

“I didn’t even realize there was a Great Fairy here,” Abel muttered. He looked shyly at Cotera, seeming a little apologetic.

Cotera looked at the clothes, smiled, and nodded, telling Tilieth to place them on the mushroom pedestal in front of her. The couple stood, waiting, and then the Great Fairy…

Blew a kiss on them?

Tilieth could feel a strange sensation, like warmth and tingling and energy, and she knew it had to be magic, could even see it in the air. But the manner in which it was delivered…

Cotera giggled in delight and then dove back into the water.

“What… just happened.” Abel said, monotone denoting a mixture of horror and confusion.

Tilieth hesitantly knelt down to examine the clothes. They didn’t look any different… but the magic had been there nonetheless. Surely it had to have done something.

“These magical creatures can be fickle,” Abel said quietly, kneeling down beside her. “Are you sure she didn’t just take your offerings and leave?”

“I saw the magic,” Tilieth argued mildly, hand running over the threads of the tunic. “Didn’t you?”

“I suppose,” Abel replied quietly, sounding dubious.

Tilieth bit her lip uncertainly. “Well… maybe we should just… well, we shouldn’t bother her, I guess. Let’s just get to the bathing area.”

Abel didn’t argue, seeming resigned to the matter. He grew quiet once more as they climbed the hill to the pond in question. Tilieth helped her husband strip down and ease into the water, exposing injuries old and new.

Tilieth’s hand traced an old scar on the back of his shoulder, and he shivered a little.

“I can bathe myself,” he finally spoke up, though his voice was still soft.

“I want to help,” Tilieth said firmly. Because that was what this was about, after all – Abel kept refusing help, continued to push himself to the point of collapse and near insanity.

It had to stop. She had already resolved she could be strong enough for everyone for a short while, long enough for Abel to get a little better.

Abel sighed, giving up.

The couple was quiet as Tilieth helped him bathe. She wasn’t entirely sure how to start the conversation of addressing what had happened, worried that he would just shut it down or she wouldn’t know what to say. Slowly, Abel started to lean back against her, letting her hold him, letting himself rest. He closed his eyes, calloused hands reaching up to gently hold her wrists as she wrapped her arms around his chest.

Tilieth finally found her voice. “What happened, Abel?”

Her husband grew tense in her hold, eyes opening, though he refused to make eye contact.

“The last thing I remember was that you had said you would sleep, and you didn’t,” she continued. “You snuck off to Hyrule Field of all places. I was so worried.”

Her husband’s face grew stony, eyes gazing off somewhere she couldn’t reach. She was worried he wouldn’t speak at all, and after a minute or so that seemed the case.

“I saw a guardian,” he finally admitted, so quietly she almost missed it.

Tilieth felt her blood freeze.

“It wasn’t real,” her husband added with a breathy, morose laugh. “I… Tilieth, I… I saw a guardian that wasn’t there, and I hurt you as a result. I’m… it isn’t safe to be around me.”

Tilieth tried to catch her breath, to make her heart rate slow down after the mere thought of a guardian being anywhere near her or her family. She swallowed thickly, moving forward to hold him again as if to prove him wrong.

Finally, she said, “The only thing… that isn’t safe… is you not sleeping.”

“I don’t think it’s that simple,” Abel replied darkly.

Tilieth bit her tongue. No, perhaps it wasn’t. But that was the best way she could fix it right now. Lack of sleep had sent him over the edge.

But the truth of the matter was that there was clearly something wrong that sleep deprivation could lead to such a disastrous night. And, even worse, his choices as a result of that night.

Abel took a shaky breath. “My entire life… I… I’ve always had to take care of my family. But lately, I… Til, there comes a time when your usefulness is at an end.”

Tilieth swallowed, trying to argue, eyes widening with alarm.

Abel sighed, rinsing some soap off his shoulder. “I can finish up, love. Please… go back to the village.”

“No.” Her voice came out stronger than she anticipated, stubborn and hurt and scared and angry.

Abel stiffened, very obviously trying to keep his breathing even. His cheeks flushed, but his face grew cold, like it always did when he was getting frustrated.

“You’re sick,” Tilieth spat out. “You’re sick, and you’re hurt, and hurting, and—I’m not leaving you.”

“So I can get you killed too?” Abel hissed, turning sharply in the water, splashing the area around them so he could face her.

“You didn’t get anyone killed—”

“I told Link to go to Fort Hateno!” Abel yelled, rising. The area grew quiet as the birds flew away in fright, as Tilieth stared at him, speechless. “All those years ago—during the Calamity… I—I told him to go to Fort Hateno, that I would meet him there, and it got him almost killed! And then when the Shrine of Resurrection was his last hope—”

“Abel, the Shrine wasn’t your fault!” Tilieth interrupted desperately. “None of it was! You had no way of knowing—”

“What kind of father am I, that I couldn’t protect my children?!” Abel argued, tears starting to slide down his cheeks, voice shaking. “What kind of husband am I that I hit my own wife?! What kind of knight am I, that I murder my own people, that I fail to protect my king, that—”

Tilieth moved towards him hastily, holding him close as his words dissolved into sobs. Her own body trembled, mind whirling, wondering desperately how she could reach him when he had managed to get so far out of reach.

How long had he been stewing in this misery, she wondered? And why couldn’t she better help him?

It doesn’t matter, she tried to tell herself. I can’t change what was, only what is.

“You’re only Hylian,” she finally whispered, her own voice trembling as well. “You’re only Hylian, love. You’re doing your best. Sometimes we all falter.”

Abel scoffed, pushing her away. “Sometimes. Sometimes! My failures are constant—”

“You got us to Kakariko safely!” Tilieth stood up, voice strengthening, fists balling. “You protected us the entire journey from the Great Plateau, you’re single-handedly responsible for getting most of the spirit orbs that have been healing Link! You protect me for ten years! You served the kingdom faithfully! Do you really think you could’ve single-handedly stopped the Calamity? Even Link couldn’t, even the Princess couldn’t!”

Her words cut into him, which was apparent from how he flinched. Tilieth honestly wasn’t sure she’d ever yelled at her husband. Her heart was racing, her blood was surging through her, heartbeat drumming in her ears. She was terrified, but she was so frustrated—why couldn’t her beloved just listen to her?!

But the anger seeped out of her quickly. The tears returned, and she started to tremble, strength leaving her alongside her ire. “Can’t you see, Abel? Can’t you see that the only way you’re making things worse is by trying to fight me on this? The only way you can truly hurt us is by leaving us, by hurting yourself the way you are. You’re not perfect, love, none of us are. The only way we can make it though this is with faith in the goddess’ protection and trust in each other.”

Pain was evident on her husband’s face, and he took a small step back, seeming to shrivel into himself as the fight drained out of him. He looked down, ashamed. “I can’t even trust myself.”

“You don’t have to,” Tilieth whispered gently, kneeling down to be at eye level with him as he sank back into the water. She cupped his face with her hands, making him look at her. “Trust me. Don’t you trust me to take care of you?”

Abel’s lips twitched like he was going to argue further, but he thought better of it, sighing and leaning his head forward until their foreheads touched.

“I know you’re sorry,” Tilieth said before he could even try to apologize again, a small smile pulling at her lips.

Abel huffed a wet laugh, shivering and moving forward to hug her again.

Tilieth held him for what felt like an eternity, yet it still didn’t feel like long enough. Eventually, though, the coolness of the water made her husband start to shake, teeth chattering. She didn’t say anything else, out of words and exhausted, but hopeful as well. It seemed like she might have gotten through to him. Abel, for his part, also seemed too worn out to speak anymore.

It wasn’t much, but it was progress, and it gave her hope. Perhaps they could stop lingering on what had happened, then, and start to move on.

Tilieth helped Abel climb out of the water, wrapping him in a towel and holding him again so he could warm up. He rested his chin on her shoulder, leaning his head against hers, no longer fighting the matter at all. However, just as she finished drying him off and was reaching for his clothes, he said softly, “That platform… it looks like a shrine.”

Confused, Tilieth turned to look at the strange platform that she’d noticed when she’d bathed Link earlier in the day. She… supposed the color scheme was similar, but it looked nothing like a shrine, to be honest.

But Abel seemed transfixed now, eyes alight with thoughts. Tilieth let him stew on the matter a moment, more concerned about getting him dressed so he wouldn’t be cold. When she prompted him to put the clothes on, though, he continued, “Wait… the item… that orb in Impa’s home…”

Orb? There was an orb? “Honey, what are you talking about?”

Abel rose, heading towards the bridge to get back to the village, and Tilieth hastily got in his way. “Abel, get dressed!”

Her husband paused, distracted, only realizing then that he was still just in a towel, and hastily put his clothes on. Then he moved with purpose, Tilieth trailing behind him worriedly. He needed to rest, whatever this was about could wait—

Oh, who was she kidding? Abel was nothing if not persistent when he was on a quest. It was where Link got his stubbornness from. At least he was focusing on helping the family and not running away. But she would make him sleep once he’d settled the matter in his mind.

They moved hastily to Lady Impa’s abode, and the Sheikah chief looked surprised to see Abel there. Before she could get a word in, though, he pointed to something in the corner, and Tilieth felt herself gasp a little as she caught sight of it.

Honestly, she hadn’t noticed it before, but the orb did match the platform perfectly.

“We need that,” Abel said, voice not quite as firm as it usually was, but commanding nonetheless.

“I—what?” Lady Impa looked between the glowing ball and Abel. “I’m sorry, but that is a Sheikah heirloom, you can’t have that. It’s been guarded by my ancestors for centuries.”

“Yes, probably millennia,” Abel insisted. “It has to do with the shrines, don’t you see that? There’s a platform where you can place it by your bathing area.”

Impa blinked, stuttering, before looking quickly between the orb and the knight once more. “Wh—I—but—”

To his credit, Abel was patient, lowering his arm and waiting for her to parse it out. Tilieth gasped as she realized it too. “Do you think it’s a puzzle of some sort for the shrine?”

Lady Impa sighed, easing herself to the cushion on the ground as she pondered the matter. “All our research on ancient Sheikah tech and I… really just had this right here in my family’s estate…”

Abel shifted, very clearly trying to hold himself back. “So… may we use it?”

The Sheikah chief rubbed her face a moment before rising and nodding, eyes firm. “I’ll go with you.”

The chief picked up the large orb, refusing to let Abel touch it, but she followed them as they made their way back to the bathing spring. Tilieth’s mind was whirling, but she felt pride in her husband swell in her as well.

The pride grew tenfold, mixing with relief and cheer, as Lady Impa placed the orb in a perfectly carved hole, and a shrine appeared from the earth.

“You really should give yourself more credit, love,” Tilieth said gently, putting a hand on his arm. “Even in your hurt and anguish, you still help us.”

Abel chewed the inside of his cheek, and she knew he was doing that to fight to maintain composure in front of Lady Impa. He was far too tired to succeed very well, though.

“This is amazing,” Lady Impa breathed, awed. “I—we should get Link right away!”

“Yes, we should,” Tilieth agreed, before turning to Abel. “But I want you to go back to the inn and rest, please. Lady Impa and I can handle this shrine.”

Abel’s face paled, eyes widening, before he stopped himself entirely from arguing. Looking defeated, he nodded, and the group made their way back to the village. When the chief rushed inside the inn, Tilieth pulled Abel aside outside the door so they had a moment alone, and she kissed him tenderly.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, looking him in the eye. “I just want you to rest. Please, Abel. Trust me. It’s the only way you’re going to get better.”

Impa let out a yelp from inside, and Abel and Tilieth rushed indoors in an instant to find the Sheikah chief blushing.

“I didn’t realize he was just in his underwear,” the chief waved off with an embarrassed laugh.

Tilieth couldn’t help her own cackling. “I got his clothes blessed by the Great Fairy. Here, let me get him dressed and we can get going.”

She gave one last look to her husband, who looked mildly amused, and kissed his cheek, guiding him to bed before turning her attention to Link. They’d get him to the shrine as the sun was descending towards the horizon, which meant she had just enough time afterward to make dinner for her family and make some clothes for Abel.

Considering how the day had started, this was an enormous improvement, and she thanked Hylia for it.

Abel sat on the bed, watching Tilieth dress their child, and leaned against the pillows reluctantly as she and Impa left.

And then there was silence in the building.

Abel shifted a little, uncomfortable and anxious. He didn’t want Tilieth and Link going to a shrine without him. But he also knew he was in no state to be helpful to anyone. He still had half a mind to try and leave again, but he knew that was irrational fear talking, desperation and panic driven from exhaustion and—

He still couldn’t believe what had happened. Of course he was terrified, he’d—

What sort of monster was he, anyway? And how was it fair in any way for Tilieth to have to clean up the mess he’d made? He was a grown man, he should’ve kept himself in check, should’ve realized that—

Abel let out a shaky breath, burying his face in his hands as he curled in on himself. Then he heard a foot rustle across wood, and he bolted to his feet, eyes alert.

An older woman gasped a little, holding her hands up. Ah. It was the innkeeper. He couldn’t quite remember her name, though.

“It’s just me, it’s all right,” she insisted gently. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep? You were resting quite well earlier.”

There was no way he would be able to sleep knowing that Link and Tilieth were exploring a shrine without him. Those things were dangerous. Abel didn’t bother replying, not wanting to be rude, but not really knowing what to say aside from no. He didn’t have the energy to really care about pleasantries. At least he wasn’t being irritable, he supposed.

He wished time could just… stop. That they could use the Sheikah slate’s time magic to stop everything, for at least a week. He felt like he could sleep a month, honestly, if he knew nothing would happen or change in that time.

But that was a fool’s wish. Time didn’t stop for anyone. Anxiety gripped at him once more, making his chest tight. He needed to do something.

Glancing around, he noticed the innkeeper had started sweeping the floor when he’d been silent in response to her. He felt bad for ignoring her, and he really needed to move. “Can… may I do that?”

The innkeeper glanced up at him, a little surprised. “Do… you want to sweep? Oh, young man, I appreciate your offer, but—”

“Please,” Abel interrupted, getting somewhat desperate. If he didn’t have something to do he knew he’d just leave this place altogether. “I… I can’t just stay in bed. Put me to work, please.”

The innkeeper watched him a moment and then sighed, face sympathetic. “All right, dear. But on one condition.”

Abel perked up, listening.

“If you get tired, you have to take a break,” the innkeeper said gravely, finger in the air to emphasize her point. “You’re supposed to be resting, after all. You’ve had a harrowing time lately.”

Yes, he supposed the innkeeper had seen the majority of his outbursts. Abel felt himself blush in shame, looking at his feet, but he nodded in agreement nonetheless. The innkeeper handed her broom off to him, allowing him to sweep the floor in peace.

The repetitive motion brought some calm to his mind, and he was grateful for it. He wondered if this was why Tilieth liked to clean sometimes, though he knew she was happiest wandering outside.

He tried not to think about the events of the early morning, but it was hard not to. Now that he’d gotten a bit of sleep and time to think about it…

He didn’t know. He still wasn’t entirely sure it had been a mistake to try and leave. He hadn’t been intent on hurting himself, but given the choice between eliminating himself from the equation and potentially hurting Tilieth or Link further, the decision had been very easy.

Abel paused, growing a little breathless. Was he tired, or was he overwhelmed?

What kind of weakling am I, that I cannot handle this anymore?

You’re only Hylian, his wife’s voice whispered back. Even the Princess herself couldn’t stop the Calamity.

Abel wasn’t trying to stop the Calamity, he was trying to save Link! But he couldn’t even hold himself together anymore!

He couldn’t do everything, but Tilieth couldn’t either. He couldn’t rely on her to take care of him and Link.

Was this simply pride? Or was Abel correct, knowing tha the should be stronger than this? When Tilieth had gotten ill all those years ago, he’d taken care of Link and had gone on a mission to Zora’s Domain, fulfilling his duty, financially supporting his family, and raising their son while Tilieth recovered in Hateno. Yet now…

Tilieth was asking for the same, was asking to take care Abel and Link so he could recover.

Could he recover?

Despair filled him for a moment, and he choked it down viciously, sweeping the floor once more and ramming the broom into the wall. His grip on the item trembled, and he stopped.

“Sir Abel,” the innkeeper said gently.

Abel felt anger rise in him, but he bit back whatever scalding remark was fighting its way out. He didn’t know how to stop this.

Have faith in the goddess. Trust in each other.

Abel scowled.

Faith in the goddess. What sort of faith could he have in someone who had abandoned her people? Had she abandoned the princess too? Was that why the young girl had been incompetent?

But do you not trust Tilieth?

He needed to lay down. The world was spinning. He wanted to go to sleep and never wake up.

Sighing, Abel dragged his feet over to the bed. This was a nightmare and he didn’t know how to escape it. Tilieth’s words rattled in his mind once more, and he realized it truly was just a choice. He would feel the same either way, but he had to choose to trust his wife. Either he would be miserable and alone, or miserable with her.

But what if he hurt her again? What if he hurt Link?

They were wasting time here in the village, and it was his fault. No matter what he did, it… if he tried to leave again, Tilieth would track him down. It would be ceaseless, and Link would die. Abel had to… had to…

Funny, how Tilieth had wanted to separate but refused to do so now. Abel felt bitterness and frustration rise in his gut, and he tried to let it go.

The door to the inn opened, and he saw Tilieth returning, triumphant, as Impa carried Link indoors.

“Oh, honey, it was great!” Tilieth said excitedly, rushing over to him. “You solved the puzzle and we didn’t even have to do anything! We got in there and it was just the monk and an opal.”

Abel stared, thinking about it. That had… never happened.

Goddesses… were they getting an actual reprieve for once?

“That’s… good,” he offered hesitantly, watching Impa put Link in the bed next to him.

“It’s great!” Tilieth insisted, hands clasped together before she hugged him. Abel tried to return the gesture, but his wife was too excited and pulled away quickly. “Oh, I have to make dinner, and—will you watch Link, dear?”

Abel nodded mutely, and Tilieth was out the door in an instant. Her cheer was a little infectious, he supposed, pulling a small smile on one side of his lips. Then he slowly dragged himself over to Link’s bed, pulling the boy to him and laying down as Impa turned to leave.

Before the Sheikah chief could depart, though, Abel asked, “Who were those people? From this morning. The ones who attacked us. They didn’t dress like Yiga.”

Lady Impa paused, hugging herself uncertainly. “I… don’t know. They bore something akin to the Yiga symbol on their foreheads, but like you said, they… didn’t dress like them. I’ve never encountered those people before.”

Abel swallowed, holding Link closer. “Very well.”

There was silence between the two, heavy and awkward given their last conversation, and Abel finally said, “Thank you for keeping her safe.”

“I’ll always protect your family,” Impa insisted calmly, with conviction, facing him fully. “Including you, Sir Abel. I’m glad we found you in time.”

Abel huffed, only mildly annoyed.

“Please rest, good knight,” Impa said. “I will pray for your recovery. And it will happen. I’ve seen it in other members of my tribe. The Calamity left scars on us all. You have to allow yourself to heal. Tilieth is more than willing to help.”

Abel stared at the wall, unable to face the chief, feeling like a fool, like a child lost in Castle Town’s bustling atmosphere, freshly orphaned and wondering what he was supposed to do now while his sisters cried. He hated feeling this helpless. He nodded, and he heard the chief leave.

The room fell silent. He wondered if the innkeeper was still there, or if she’d stepped out. Link was silent and motionless as usual. Abel felt tempted to rouse him just to see his eyes, just to talk to him, but he figured the boy needed rest more than he did. So he simply kissed his head and closed his eyes.

He didn’t know what the future would bring. But he knew this respite couldn’t last, no matter what choice he made. They would have to leave tomorrow. But for tonight, he wouldn’t think about any of it, even if that went against every fiber of his being.

Recovery was a choice. Trust was a choice. Tilieth made that choice as she prayed outside at the Hylia statue while the food simmered in the cooking pot. Abel made that choice as he tried to sleep, disregarding Link wiggling in the bed, listening to the crickets peek out and start their symphony of the night.

Trust was a choice. He would try to make it.

He would try.