#i am queueing this lol

[tabooiart]

it's pride month, you know what that means

huh. what. do you want me to draw like. gay eldritch horrors. what.

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

you'll be seeing me very soon for @jinstronaut ♡

[ophernelia]

@brookie: “i hate when short girls date tall men” just say you want my man atp ho

beginning | next

[mexipoopy]

[blaiddraws]

Part 3: 7

[first] [all]

[previous] [next]

a brief flashback, set very soon after the last one we saw :)

[fallow-horn]

“A contractual update. You look after me, I look after you.”

--

After 2 weeks of working on this, this comic is finally finished !! This was inspired by the amazing Chrisker fic A God Needs Worship by @erenaeoth, specifically this set of lines from Chapter 59:

It's not exactly what happened but the description of Chris's features decaying and fading really ate at my brain for a while and I just had to draw something for it. I highly recommend this fic to anyone looking for something to read!! I need to get caught up now that I'm finished with this lol

[yooniesim]

Small Simblr Saturday Appreciation Post 💜

Hey y'all! Since @tau1tvec came up with the idea for this event, I thought I'd shout out some of my personal favorite always free creators :)

To start it off though, you know I gotta recommend @alwaysfreecc, the finds blog currently managed by myself, @superflare, @nicatnite88, and @toastie-sim! We only reblog cc creators that are always free (no exclusive or early access) and use the tag #alwaysfreecc to find your posts! If you're an always free cc creator, please use the tag and/or mention the finds blog so we can get your catalog reblogged there 😌 now, onto the list~!

@xiuminuwu - a creator I've really been loving lately! they have a variety of cute cc, including poses and unique, fashionable clothing~

@hexcodesims - a very underrated creator with tons of clothing edits for masc frame sims, I also love their big bud press palette~

@herecirmsims - makes amaaaazing unique poses for a variety of situations

@adelarsims - has awesome ideas that you wouldn't think of, amazing variety of cc like hello

@janjumjam - adorable cc for kids, gives me happy feels and nostalgia

@ceeproductions - some of my fav cc on this site, great variety for both masc and fem frame

@powluna - super cute items for kiddos... a staple in the mods folder

@ssspringroll - occult cc for daysss, cool sliders and presets, they got it all

@nicatnite88 - yes I'm biased, but the variety and hustle cannot be denied, just look at the amount of cc!

@bobnewbie - hairs, facial hairs, accessories, gorgeous sims... what else could you want?

@darlyssims - UNIQUE. really cool ideas for hairs, accessories, and more

@cliffirem - clothes and hairs with an alt twist i really enjoy

@sammi-xox - beautiful skinblends and super useful skin details

@warwickroyals - gorgeous formalwear, especially good for all you royal simblrs!

@marsosims - cute cute cute all over... hairs, clothes, even build/buy cc!! we stan

@whyhellosims - lots of stuff for kids, build buy cc, and a slant of humor!

@creamlattedream - masc cc staple in this house, lots of cute recolors and casual wear

@pluto-sims - the cutest patterns EVER, adorable kids clothing, posters and walls~

@deathpoke1qa - unique is my word for the day bc my lord... it's popping off! alt staples you can't miss

@icchixxxxxx1 - hairs hairs hairs... and more cute hairs! if you like the cutesy anime look but still mm, go here

@mellosakicc - so. many. t-shirts. but also other clothing, tats, and hairs! another alt cc maker with work ethic for days

@whirliko - cute bright recolors... we have no choice but to stan the pop of color

@shandir - conversions, historical, occult, variety... hello??? get going

@mangosimoothie - the ideas are popping... once again things that would never pop into my brain but are brilliant... just go look and see what I mean

@igorstory - facial hair... a totally unrepresented niche of sims cc.. I have all their stuff... download it

@madameriasims4 - CLASSICS. STAPLES. I use their clothes all the time and they also got build/buy stuff.

@aniraklova - alt & punk vibes to the tippy top, fallout, chains, mohawks, whats not to love??

@pixelunivairse - ONE OF MY FAVS. use their cc constantly for my fem frame sims. uses tons of cute patterns that I love

@demondare-sims - cas cc i love, I use it pretty much every time I play, mm and practical

@fiftymilehighclub - talking about work ethic, it's here... so many recolors in bomb palettes that you'll never download them all... or can you??? try

@sforzcc - retired from cc making, but I gotta recommend, bc I use their wardrobe sooo much... brilliant

@casteru/@woosteru - also retired, but same as #16, I use their cc every day!

@xldkx-cc - am I just listing staples of my mods folder now? yes!! I am not biased!! go and get all that cas cc and poses and deco sims NOW!!

@a-luckyday - if you don't know ms a luckyday poses u have not lived in life!! they have a huge amount of them, solo, couple, group, accessories, and more

@gothoffspring - really cute and vibey recolors, I use them a lot, also some build buy items too!!

@jellymoo - we love the clothing... mm aesthetic to the core and cute af

@gladlypants - lotsa adorable items I adore, variety of patterns too

@birksche - tons, I mean TONS of hairs bro, years worth, always free... a treasure trove

@teekalu - supreme maxis match, vanilla vibes that are so lovely... ideal for low cc players

@honeyssims4 - poses, honey!!! the variety will shock you. and they ALL look good

@sewerwolfx - really cool stuff with alt style, some recolors and some from SCRATCH, we love to see it

@historysims4 - historical cc from many different eras!! iconic

@hamsterbellbelle - some of the most unique scifi cc i ever seen... idk how they even make some of that stuff! must see

@surely-sims - beautiful legendary amazing gorgeous never been done before... their fallout inspired cc made me weep and almost solely furnished one of my households, work

...annnndddd I hit my limit!!! I guess thats it for now but maybe a part two... 😉

[14dayswithyou]

I'm going to be a little evil :3c /silly

*I have stolen all of their headwear, leaving only FROGGY HAT in his closet.*

"Boy it sure is chilly today. Don't forget to wear a scarf and a hat when you come pick me up, okay [REDACTED]?"

✦゜ANSWERED: I believe in froggy hat [REDACTED] supremacy 🖤🐸

He knew. Of course he knew. [REDACTED]'s security system alerted him the second you stepped foot into his apartment, and it took the dark-haired hacker almost all of his willpower not to rush home and see you. But alas, he had other matters to attend to and messes to clean up here. Things he couldn't risk putting on hold, lest he pay the consequences for them later.

So, [REDACTED] settles for watching you through his cracked phone screen as you try to sneak your way around his apartment. They didn't really understand why you felt the need to be so secretive; you knew your boyfriend would be out for the day, you had his spare keycard and access to the entire 14th floor, and [REDACTED] had made it explicitly clear early on in the relationship that everything he owned was yours completely. Nothing was off limits to you, and that included every inch of his living space.

...And even himself.

Curiously, they watch with keen interest as you quietly slide the door to his walk-in closet open and take in your surroundings once more — making sure that you really were alone in his dimly-lit bedroom. But barely a moment passes before you stride in with a newfound purpose, unzip your backpack, and begin to stash all of his caps and beanies inside.

Well, alright then. If you decided he no longer needed those items, then so be it. He was never one to deny you anything.

But in retrospect, you were honestly doing [REDACTED] a favour. He genuinely didn't really need those items in his possession anymore — especially considering how he had no real reason to conceal his identity from you after all these years of being together.

He could never forget about that pivoted moment in time when you opened up to your beloved hacker about his rather... intense need to watch over you 24/7. And after you had scolded him multiple times for stalking you from darkened corners and alleyways outside your apartment complex, [REDACTED] had all but tried to change his ways. To better themselves for you.

After all, you deserved nothing less.

Glancing back at his phone once more, [REDACTED] takes in every little movement you make as you continue to tuck away his belongings; down to the turn of your head and the flex in your muscles. Not a single twitch or glance goes unnoticed under his watchful gaze — and had the dark-haired man not been so enraptured by your ministrations — he surely would've noticed that it was just about time for him to start packing his tools up and head home.

Home, in time for the date you had planned for the evening.

But the way you purposefully moved around his closet had [REDACTED] in a trance. You were extremely methodical about the things you were swiping from his shelves; neatly packing away all of the headgear, earmuffs, and scarves on display (and even the ones hidden within the depths of his drawers!). Yet... One single item remained in the aftermath of your wake.

Atop one of the lone shelves in the corner, it sits, isolated from the rest of its kind. Worn out yet well loved; it was no more than a novelty item your boyfriend had originally won for you from a crane game. But even after their constant insistence that you should keep it, you rebutted it all by saying it'd look better on him instead — all while pushing the cute, froggy hat back into his hands with a teasing smile.

("If you keep bleaching your hair like that," his real name falls from your lips like sweet nectar, "All of your hair will fall out. When that happens, you can use this to keep your bald head warm!"

"...When that happens? Hmph. You're gettin' cheeky." With a smile of his own, your boyfriend reaches out to gently pinch your cheek. "I haven't touched m'hair in ages.")

So after watching you be so meticulous with the items you were "robbing", the hacker couldn't help but wonder what your main motive was. Why leave that silly, little frog hat alone unless... Did you want him to wear it? You knew [REDACTED] would never say no to you — let alone to a frivolous request — but admittedly, they did find it rather endearing to watch you put in all that effort just for him.

Just like how he used to be... Back before you opened the curtains of his life and brought sunshine into his heart.

Gone are the days of "Ren", when [REDACTED] had to snoop around your apartment just to get any sort of inclination of what your type and interests might be. No longer did [REDACTED] have to "borrow" some of your old clothing to keep himself company on lonely nights; to put them over his pillow and pretend like it was you he was holding close to his chest. He no longer had to steal your presents and tokens out of spite and jealousy — only to return them days later once they noticed how upset it made you.

Too caught up in reminiscing about the past, [REDACTED] had almost missed your swift getaway from his bedroom. Living up to your nickname, you glide down the staircase and across his foyer as if you sprouted angel wings on your back and stroll into the elevator, before closing the door and pulling out your phone.

And just like clockwork, [REDACTED]'s camera feed gets replaced by the bright red and green call buttons that shake and taunt him at the bottom of the screen — alongside the personalised caller photo of you smiling towards the sunset ocean with [REDACTED]'s jacket atop your shoulders. The dark-haired man leaves no room for pause before he's swiping his finger across the screen and eagerly anticipating the sound of your voice.

You greet him in that casual, nonchalant tone of yours, and [REDACTED] had to resist the urge to start recording the call — to save the addictive timbre of your voice for when he needs to hear it the most.

"Man... It sure is chilly today, don't you think?"

There's the familiar sound of tacky elevator music playing in the background, and part of [REDACTED] thinks you're purposefully calling him right now to let him in on your (not so) secret escapades... To let them know where you are.

Or perhaps you were already aware that he knows, if the way you were glancing up at the elevator camera was anything to go by.

Regardless, you don't give away any other telling signs as your beloved hacker watches you through the camera. Your bag is still carefully slung over a shoulder, while one of his old, black university caps received the pleasure of being fiddled with in your hand. Your voice returns once more, and it causes a grin to form on his lips.

"Don't forget to wear a scarf and a hat when you come pick me up, okay?"

There's a newfound teasing lilt in your tone, which has [REDACTED] latching on to your every word with bated breath and scrambling for a reply.

"'Course. Wouldn't miss our date for the world. 'N make sure y'stay warm too, angel." Without missing a beat, he easily takes his place in your little game. "Wouldn't wanna misplace your jacket 'n get cold now, would we?"

Your pixelated smile on the screen gives everything away.

You hear the unmistakable sound of [REDACTED]'s sports motorbike before you see it; watching the corner of your street as he appears from the darkness like a phantom.

And like the gentleman that he is, [REDACTED] doesn't make you stray far from the safety of the streetlamp either. The moment your boyfriend pulls up in front of you, one of his large hands reaches around your waist to draw you near (almost as if he'd gone years without being in your presence), while the other makes quick work of the latch of his helmet. In one swift motion, he pulls it off and rests it against the tank—

Only to reveal that cute, pastel green frog hat sitting atop his head.

He can't help but smile when you do; clearly pleased that he went through with your silly request. At that, you let out a low hum of appreciation as you lean against your boyfriend's chest, and [REDACTED] returns the favour by bending down and pressing a chaste kiss against the crown of your head as well.

"...Think y'could give this unworthy prince another kiss, love?" Your beloved boyfriend leans in closer until your lips are millimetres away from touching, "Otherwise I might stay cursed t'live in this froggy form forever."

[nylarac]

[leverage-ot3]

okay I’ve seen a lot of posts about sterling just being crowley and. guys. the implications just hear me out 😭😭😭

bending lore slightly here BUT let’s say crowley’s body was once inhabited by a human and crowley is possessing the body (maybe he kills the initial inhabitant bc he doesn’t care)

but he still has the guy’s memories. he doesn’t bother keeping up appearances with his ‘ex wife’ because he is too busy building up his hell empire. BUT for some reason he can’t quite identify, he still feels something towards his ‘daughter’. he lets the divorce happen and doesn’t feel the need (or desire) to fight for custody, but he can never quite forget her, to cast her out of his mind for good

some hijinks ensue with the leverage team. it’s mostly because even a grind culture demon wants some off time every once in a while, and for him the insurance investigator stuff is more of a hobby. interacting with the leverage crew is very low stakes for him, and honestly, quite amusing. they aren’t on his level power-wise, but that ford character gives him the mental exercise he hasn’t experienced in, well, he can’t even remember

he can feel their frustration and anger when they learn he has become employed by interpol and feeds off it. it’s great, and relaxing in a way he is never able to achieve while conducting hell-related business

one year he gets wind that olivia is in a really bad situation associated with his ‘ex wife’s’ new husband. he’s selling vital hardware to terrorists, and while that might actually be the kind of chaos he would normally support or be entertained by as the king of hell, something feels wrong about letting olivia stay anywhere near that man

he calls upon the body’s adversaries. he wouldn’t admit it, even under duress, BUT he feels slightly fond of them. nate for the three dimensional chess they play, sophie for her ability to charm and disguise, parker for her chaos and slightly unsettling nature (it’s the autism swag and being bad with human interaction but he doesn’t know that lol), hardison for his unapologetic intelligence and eliot for his hardened violent past and take-no-shit persona (he’s fun to tease)

they perform exactly as he expected, right into his carefully crafted plan. and then olivia is under his care and things get more complicated. he keeps her FAR, FAR away from anything related to the supernatural (heh). no one can find out about her, ESPECIALLY not those imbecile hunter brothers (if for nothing else than the embarrassment in revealing he has a weak spot)

not sure how to work it into this post but I also want to add that somewhere along the way he develops feelings for nate and sophie. the frame up job is near and dear to my heart and you can’t convince me that isn’t fighting as flirting behavior. his interpol persona is more of a side hustle so to speak, but he finds it fun (relaxing, even) to fill that role. there aren’t any obligations of other demons, bothersome hunters, or anything like that. nate and sophie are low stakes, except, they aren’t, really. they make him feel things he can’t ever really remember feeling. his heart beats fast when sophie sat in his lap and cradled his face, his hands sweat when nate gives him that certain smug look. he’s exasperated by the way they can run circles around him like no one else has ever before. they annoy him and get under his skin in a way no one else can and it’s infuriating. but also not, at the same time. maybe he likes it

and then the long goodbye job happens

hear me out and suspend your belief here for a second, because I can’t remember if crowley supernaturally knows when ppl die/are dead or not.

so nate is in interpol custody and the interviewer is obviously out of her depth. (most people are, when it comes to nathan ford.) he walks in and pours the man a drink, but he’s fuming. somewhere along the way he came to care about the team. hell and suffering is literally in his (official) job description, but he can admit (only to himself) that he admires what they do. it’s not for him, not anything close to where his passions and interests lie, but he respects their drive and purpose. he is also aware enough to acknowledge that they are a family, a group of misfits that never belonged quite anywhere except to each other.

and nate fucking blew it up, ruined it, because his vice is being so obsessed with the end game that he is apparently willing to let his team, his family, the people that anchor him to reality, die because the ends supposedly justify the means.

not this time. not to sterling crowley

he is enraged. he can admit within the confines of his mind that he cares for nate, for sophie, even for the other three (though nate and sophie have somehow made it a hierarchy where they are more important to him. which he will dissect later in private. maybe.)

nate let them die, he let sophie die, and for what? the black book? hell below, crowley would have made things easier somehow, if he knew that this was where nate’s sights had lied. he would have prevented this somehow. he wants to have prevented this. he doesn’t want any of them dead and is too afraid to check and verify because that would make it real. the idea of sophie (or any of them) somehow making it to hell instead of heaven would probably break something in him he might not be able to reapir fully.

he yells at nate- he’s angry. hellfire burning in his heart because everything is ruined. the deaths aside (however hard it is to set them aside in his mind), nate will not recover from this, not ever. this will be the start of the end, he is sure. a miserable, guilt-ridden existence where he drinks himself to death and nothing will save him. it plays out in crowley’s mind in a thousand different ways that are beyond painful to conceptualize, even in theory.

the story starts to unravel and there is a game afoot. a solemn, miserable, infuriating game because the con is still in session because parker is alive and in the building- which sets another fire alight in his chest. ‘parker even know you got hardison killed?’ he rages for her grief when she finds out. he knows it will double when she finds out eliot has perished, too, because he isn’t fucking blind.

but nate is a brilliant man, lest he forget too quickly. they are all alive, and somehow still the entire crew slips through his fingers. he’s not even angry (he never would have been- he doesn’t actually try too hard to catch them. it’s about the game, not the consequences). he lets them keep the black book because he’s fucking exhausted and honestly, they more than earned it.

‘now we’re even. tell sophie to drive carefully’. they will never be even, not really. crowley would never admit or agree that being human is the superior state of being, but that have made him feel human in a way he doesn’t actually mind. they keep him on his toes and match him in a way unique to them, they remind him that there are other things than the realm of hell. not necessarily bigger than hell, but maybe just as important in a different sense.

watching the van drive away, something inside him settles. when he walked into the interrogation room that day he thought this was the beginning of the end. it’s not the end at all, not an end to anything. it’s a continuation of their story. maybe, he thinks, a beginning to a new era in it

[punctuation-completionist]

okay, so, i just realized i never said this, but if i ever reblog something from you and you want me to take it down, please do just shoot me an ask explaining which post it is and like. try to make it clear that's what you're getting at (ie, if you just send me "fuck you never reblog my stuff i hope you die" i am not going to understand that inherently as a request and more of as a dick move)

because, genuinely, i don't wanna be reblogging something that you're uncomfortable with and if i ever fail to read the room, it's probably a mistake and i would love for you to tell me that i made one.

[girlboyburger]

i'm alive btw i've just been, um,

[expectiations]

Thinking of how "left me like a book on a shelf" is from River's POV and therefore does not mean it is the entirety of the story much like how "the Doctor does not and has never loved me" was uttered from a River who was grieving.

Like the Doctor could have spent a long time putting the TARDIS in stationary orbit around the Library. The Doctor could have puttered about with the Library from years before it was shut down to ensure that everything would go smoothly while doing his best not to change a single thing. And on days when it is too hard, he just stares at the Library from his perch on the TARDIS door. Waiting, hoping, thinking. Trying to find a way out for her. For them.

And he does!

He finds a hundred ways to get her out of the data core. But...something always goes wrong. It's somehow never good enough. She's back, but she's not entirely there.

So he scratches it out, slaps himself, and tries again.

And again.

And again.

But his plans always fail.

But they don't. Not really. His plans could work. Could have worked. His beloved Sexy would help him. She'd always help him when it comes to her Water. But he was too scared. Too frightened of failure. Because one single mistake. One. Single. Mistake. And she's gone. He can never get her back. Forever.

So he runs. And runs. And runs. Until centuries has gone by and companion come and gone. Until he met a younger, more alive version of her. And then they had Darillium. And oh the joys of wonderful joys, what a night that was.

But things end. Even for him. They had to part ways again. Had to say goodbye. So he tries again. Picks up what his previous self had shelved. He tries. Oh how he tries.

But still. That fear exists. Is it worth it? Can he finally accomplish what he'd started a literal lifetime ago?

(He doesn't.)

Off on another lifetime with a new body. He's a...she now? Oh and shorter! Wow. That's new! I wonder what Ri–

On the rare moments she allows herself to succumb to sleep she goes to their his her study. She takes a moment to take everything in. It's unrecognizable now – the study that once was theirs filled with warmth and laughter and-

Every single space was taken. Covered by plans of plans of plans spanning...two...lifetimes now. Sexy still kept it just as it was the last time he she had been in there.

Their His Her favorite throw was still where it was – on their his her favorite corner of their his her favorite couch.

Nothing had changed but everything had changed.

She curled up and buried her face hoping it would still smell of her (It did. They never knew how it worked but somehow her smell still lingered anyway. They thought they were hallucinating at first but other people had been able to smell it too. Sometimes they forget but Sexy also lost her too).

She was a he again. The same face they had four lifetimes ago. The same face who was the first to keep the memory of their meeting.

But wh- what? Why? How? Is this it? Is this the body that finally brings her back home? A fitting act really. He put her in there and so he'll also put her out of there.

But... she wasn't there. Nothing was there. Nothing but chunks of debris and ashes and smelted...somethings.

When he blinked his eyes open (when had he closed them?), Donna's worried face greeted him. He blinked again and blinked. Nothing changed. Everything has changed. He had waited for far too long. He had made her wait for far. too. long. He feared of failing her but now he actually has failed her.

Everything was bland now. Was it just him or is everything a bit...on the side of grey? Donna looks at him like he might break. (He won't. He's a Time Lord. Time Lords don't break.) Even Sylvia had taken to treating him a bit more kindly.

He goes off alone with Sexy. His return to the Noble-Temple (Temple-Noble) household becomes fewer and further in between. One day he finds himself in Venice. Wonderful Venice. His Pond and her Roman (who wasn't yet a Roman) had gone here. There were vampires. And running and –

River?

No silly. River wasn't there.

He blinked. And blinked again. Made sure the sky was blue and the clouds still fluffy white. But was that his leather jacket that just whizzed by past him? Wait. Hold on. That was... Was that? Oh no. It wasn't. It couldn't be. Did they? No. They couldn't have.

But of course, apparently they did. Because that was actually his leather jacket wearing self that just passed by him again(?) tugging along his very-much-not-dead wife along running from... Hold on. Why are they running? What- Who's shooting at her?!

[anakindoodles]

August Character of the month: Zukooooooo

What a glow up from the first time i drew him

[aceghosts]

Screenshots of Rooney Shepard (They/Them) in Cyberpunk 2077 (29/X)

The sky is falling, it's fucking boring I'm going braindead, isolated God is a shithead and we're his rejects Traumatised for breakfast I can't stomach anymore survival horror

-Dear Diary by Bring Me The Horizon

MOD LIST

Taglist (Like this post to opt in/out for edits): @bbrocklesnar, @alexxmason, @sergeiravenov, @tommyarashikage, @voidika,

@carlosoliveiraa, @strangefable, @imogenkol, @direwombat, @confidentandgood,

@socially-awkward-skeleton, @raresvtm, @cloudofbutterflies92, @icecutioner, @theelderhazelnut,

@katsigian,@cassietrn, @captastra, @g0dspeeed, @inafieldofdaisies,

@thedeadthree

[skyloftian-nutcase]

”Father. Father! Dad!!”

Ganondorf sniffled, disoriented, hearing urgency in his daughter’s tone. His adrenaline spiked, his body working to wake him up while his mind still lagged behind. He felt Hemisi’s hand on his arm, heard her whispering something in the background. Quickly, he blinked his eyes a few times as the world materialized around him.

He was in bed. Right. They’d all gone to bed after the festivities. Nabooru had already departed for Lanayru Village, so he was alone.

Ganondorf glanced over, looking at his daughter, wondering why in the world she was waking him in the middle of the night. His worry was lessened somewhat when he saw she was unharmed, though she looked quite upset. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Orik,” she answered worriedly. “He’s not ok. He’s with Merovar right now, but I don’t know what to do.”

Merovar? She woke her brother up too? Sighing, the Gerudo king slowly dragged himself out of bed, not quite as alarmed as before. Whatever was worrying Hemisi, it couldn’t be that bad. At least his children were fine.

What could possibly be wrong with her boyfriend, though? Orik had been fine earlier in the day, had played and danced and laughed along with everyone else.

When Ganondorf entered the guest room, he could hear the problem from the doorway.

Orik sat at the edge of his bed, feet planted strongly on the ground, hands braced against his legs, leaning forward. Merovar sat beside him, worriedly patting his back as the boy wheezed. The Sheikah’s eyes were fixed on the floor, widened a little in fear, his entire body trying to work whatever muscle it needed to move air.

“What happened?” Ganondorf asked as he moved quickly to the boy.

“We don’t know,” Hemisi replied shakily. “I heard him coughing and came to check on him and he was like this.”

“I think he’s got a fever,” Merovar added.

Ganondorf knelt down to be close to eye level with the boy. Orik’s gaze flicked to him, any semblance of respect or courtesy that he might usually give lost in the terror that was overriding his body. The Gerudo king noticed little splotches of red on his face, how his eyes were bloodshot… he knew these signs.

Sand fever. The boy had sand fever.

“Merovar, call for the healer,” he ordered, reaching forward to pick Orik up. “Hemisi, draw up a bath. Make the water as hot as you can.”

His children didn’t question him, immediately setting to work. Orik shivered in his hold, chin resting on his shoulder as his hands clawed desperately for purchase, gripping the Gerudo’s hair that spilled over his chest. His breathing whistled painfully by Ganondorf’s ear, and he rubbed the boy’s back as reassuringly as he could as he made his way to the wash room.

It was strange, how quickly it came on. Had the boy been feeling unwell all day and not said anything?

Given his track record, that seemed likely.

Ganondorf bit back his frustration. Why was this idiot boy so careless with his health? Hadn’t he been taught—

Wait. Who had raised him, anyway? And how old was he? Ganondorf had assumed the kid was a few years older than Hemisi, given that he was an independent soldier among Hyrule’s elite, but sand fever didn’t usually hit this severely unless the victim was fairly young.

Perhaps it was simply that he hadn’t been exposed to it before. That had to be it.

Orik’s grip tightened, and Ganondorf felt a few teardrops hit his skin. His annoyance dissipated further, and he sighed a little, whispering, “You’ll be alright, boy. Don’t worry.”

As they entered the wash room, the steam immediately seemed to help. Orik relaxed a little for a few moments before coughing harshly. It was a heavy sound, but it also rang with that familiar cadence that Ganondorf had heard from years of raising his twins, the noise that meant things were actually moving. A productive cough was a healthy cough in this instance.

Ganondorf pat the boy’s back helpfully, swaying in place in the warm room. Hemisi watched worriedly, though Orik’s wheezing subsided a little, bringing everyone some relief.

Eventually, the healer entered with Merovar, and Ganondorf dismissed his children. Hemisi certainly seemed reluctant to leave, but a reassuring nod from her father sent her on her way. He’d check in on them later.

“Hello, love,” the healer said reassuringly to Orik. Ganondorf slowly sat on the small stairs leading to the bath, positioning Orik to rest on his lap, keeping him sitting up as much as he could. The boy was exhausted, having expounded so much energy just trying to breathe. “I have an elixir here for you. Lord Ganondorf was wise to let you inhale some steam too.”

“I think it’s sand fever,” Ganondorf explained. “He’s got the spots and everything; Merovar had it last year.”

“That’s right, I remember,” the healer hummed thoughtfully before returning her attention to Orik. “What’s your name, dear?”

“L…Link…” he gasped out tiredly.

Ganondorf blinked. Blinked again. What?

“It’s his Hylian name!” He heard Hemisi call from just outside, sounding anxious. “Orik is his Sheikah name, he has two, it’s ok!!”

Hadn’t he sent her to her room? His irritation bubbled again, mixed with confusion and alarm.

Link. That was the name of that brat who…

Ganondorf shook his head. That was a different land, a different time. Names overlapped. There had been a woman back in his original era who had been named Nabooru too. That didn’t mean it was the same.

It… wasn’t the same, right?

No. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. This boy was far older than the other, not a confidante to the princess and king but simply a guard.

Surely…? Ganondorf had initially encouraged Hemisi’s friendship with Orik because it would allow her to learn the castle security. Surely Orik wasn't doing the same thing, deceiving his daughter to gain entry to Gerudo secrets?

He was spiraling and he knew it. Hemisi knew it, given how she had hastily correct Orik’s—Link’s addled reply.

“How old are you?” The healer asked, measuring out the elixir. “How much do you weigh? Do you know?”

“F-fourteen. I… d-don’t… know.”

Fourteen? He was his twins’ age? Ganondorf had figured this boy was seventeen - wasn’t that the age of adulthood in Hyrule? Why was he an independent soldier, then?

He shook his head. Not now. Don’t worry about this now.

There was no way this boy was a threat. Ganondorf and Nabooru had invited him into their home, had let him participate in Gerudo celebrations when few Hylians had that privilege, and the boy had been nothing but polite. Despite the Gerudo king’s earlier misgivings about the boy, he’d actually started growing to like him. But…

With his rediscovery of the Triforce, paranoias and thoughts of his original land had been plaguing him. This was home, though, and it—it wasn’t the same. Not even remotely. The Hyrule royal family was vastly different, the landscape vastly different, the Gerudo infinitely more powerful… a shared name was a coincidence. Nothing more. Ganondorf knew so little of Hylian naming customs anyway, it was probably a common one. And this boy was not like the other one at all.

Ganondorf sighed heavily, trying to release the uncertainty and bias, trying to give this stupid kid a chance. Orik was watching him now, crimson eyes looking for something, the familiarity of the searching gaze settling in his mind and heart.

Comfort. He was looking for comfort. Ganondorf had seen it time and again in his children.

He sighed again. Closed his eyes. I write my own destiny, and no divine intervention will change that.

Ganondorf pulled the boy closer. “You’ll be fine, child. Drink the elixir.”

Link shakily took the offered drink, sipping at it. The healer explained a few things, but Ganondorf hardly listened; he’d dealt with this illness just a year ago, he remembered most of the details. Sleep, hydrating, medicine, steam to help break things up and cough them out, keep him away from other children so it didn’t spread.

When the healer departed, Ganondorf glanced at the exit, saying, “I know you’re still there.”

Hemisi silently peeked around the doorway.

“I told you to go to your room.”

“You’re mad, aren’t you?” she deflected. “Look, I know when we were kids and you told us that story and you didn’t like that one character—”

“I’m angry because I don’t tolerate disobedience, and you know that. His name is irrelevant.”

Hemisi looked unconvinced.

“Go to bed,” Ganondorf said firmly. “I’ll take care of him.”

His daughter finally complied, throwing one last concerned look at her boyfriend before vanishing.

“‘m sorry…”

Ganondorf glanced down to see Orik looking absolutely miserable, eyes growing puffy.

“Spare me your tears,” he sighed. “It’s not your fault you’re sick. But were you feeling unwell earlier? Did you try to take care of yourself?”

The boy swallowed hard, fighting to control himself.

“Honestly,” Ganondorf grumbled. “This is the second time I’ve had to step in for you, boy. You should know better.”

“I’ve taken care of myself since I was twelve,” Orik snapped all of a sudden, his emotions shifting from appeasement and guilt to anger. “J-just because—I’m not incompetent, and this—it’s n-not like I haven’t been sick before, I just—I just—”

The boy’s argument petered out, interrupted by a painful series of coughs. He tried to move, to stand up, face flushed with fever and exertion and frustration, but Ganondorf held him in place.

“Well this is a different side of you,” he commented with mild amusement. It was good to see some fire in him. Ganondorf was used to the quiet, reserved, ever-so-polite Sheikah. The boy clearly had a lot of fight in him; it was likely tempered by protocol, especially if he’d been fending for himself since he was twelve.

Since he was twelve. That was roughly the age Ganondorf had been when he’d started trying to lead his people, so long ago. It was when his body had started to mature, and though he’d always been the esteemed Gerudo prince, with all the authority that came with it, he hadn’t stepped in to bring a king until he was midway through adolescence.

Orik glared at him, wiggling in his grip. “L-let—let me go.”

Ganondorf almost laughed now. Oh, he’d angered the little fighter now, insulted his capabilities. He liked seeing this side of the boy, but it wouldn’t do him any good in this situation.

“Relax,” he said appeasingly, letting his voice be gentle as he rose and shifted the boy’s weight so he was pressed against him, as upright as he could be. Orik was stiff now, not compliant or scared as he’d been, his face hovering by Ganondorf’s, glare apparent. But the boy’s training and exhaustion won out, and he slowly settled his chin back on the Gerudo king’s right shoulder, letting out a sigh of defeat. “I recognize that you must have some degree of competency if you’ve kept yourself alive for two years.”

“A-almost three,” the boy huffed weakly, a last little spark of defiance before he grew silent, focusing on his rattling breath.

“You’ll be fifteen soon?”

Ganondorf felt the boy nod.

“Well, either way,” he continued, draining the bath and heading for the exit. “You’re my responsibility now.”

“My apologies,” the boy muttered, a more formal attempt at his earlier raw admission. “I—I d-didn’t want t-to—”

“Orik,” he cut the boy off as he reached his room. “Be quiet and listen to me. I’m not upset that you’re sick.”

The young warrior remained silent, body slowly relaxing more and more as Ganondorf walked. The cool breeze of the desert night drifted into the bedroom, warmed a little as it passed over torches and candles. Crickets chirped unceasingly, a constant melody punctuated by crackling flames as Ganondorf slowly paced back and forth, listening to the symphony of the night and contemplating matters.

Hemisi and Orik had been dating for nearly a year now. Ganondorf had learned much of Hyrule in that time, and he finally had an idea where the Triforce was being held. Once he ascertained what guarded it, it would finally be time to put his plan into motion. Nabooru was traveling to different Gerudo settlements to prepare their assault.

Nothing was going to stand in his way. Yet this boy was a potential problem.

Link.

Ganondorf took a deep, steadying breath. Link’s own breaths were soft, congested but gentle in slumber.

The Triforce would be his. It was his right to rule all the lands as he pleased. He hadn’t had the power and clout back then that he did now, when he’d attempted this in the Hyrule of his birth. And, as he’d assured himself before, the Link of his past was far different. The entire political landscape was different - King Ozen was a fool, and so long as one bowed down and preened his ego, he’d give them anything they asked for. Princess Zelda was an invisible girl, voiceless and powerless. And Link…

Well. He didn’t know. Dating someone wasn’t that strong of a commitment. Not strong enough for what was about to come. But, perhaps, once Ganondorf obtained the Triforce, the boy would pledge himself to Hemisi.

He would have to.

I think he might, Ganondorf mused, a small smile forming. But they were both too young for such ideas. And there was still too much in the air between them. Still…

Sighing, Ganondorf finally settled the boy on the bed, making sure he was sitting up against a bunch of pillows. He covered him with a light blanket, watching the shadows on his face as a nearby candle shone light on him.

He didn’t know what the future would bring for this boy. But he knew his own future. He would be victorious. Playing with some of the boy’s hair, he tucked it behind his ear.

Sleep well, Link. The coming days will be long. Hopefully you’ll come out on the right side of it.

Hopefully.