#but I got a Link out of it so hey

[trashmammal-7]

Do the funny internet people like this Link I drew on gartic phone?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Have you watched Dungeon Meshi yet? I feel like you would LOVE dungeon meshi (see also: I think it would give you obsessive brain rot)

I uh... um... yeah I like Dungeon Meshi a normal amount.

[adrift-in-thyme]

Febuwhump Day 4: Obedience (Link/Midna)

Ao3

CW for blood and injury, torture, and mild body horror

——————————-

Midna is no stranger to the sound of screams.

Her people had cried out when Zant had taken the throne and transformed her beautiful kingdom into something dark and twisted. Their cries of agony and anguish had echoed in her ears as she fled, a hideous imp, humiliated and furious. And they have remained with her all this time, spurring her onward toward salvation and victory.

But the noise that fills the air now is terrible in its own right. It pierces her skull and sets her heart racing erratically in her chest. And it feels as though it has been going on for eternity.

In reality, however, it has probably only been a few minutes. It doesn’t matter though. Midna has never derived joy from seeing Link suffer. This time is no different.

“Midna,” Zant’s leering voice reaches her ears once more, cascading smoothly over the waning sound of the hero’s hoarse screams. “Be an obedient dear and lend me your power. Do so and your precious, little human need not suffer further.”

Midna’s gaze travels down to where Link kneels mere feet away from her. His body is rigid, held in place by invisible bindings. His cap has fallen a short distance from him; his tunic and pants are splotched with mud, sweat, and blood. Tears stream down his ashen cheeks and well in his eyes, turning their gray the color of a stormy sky. But there is fire in them.

“Don’t,” he gasps, voice painfully ragged. “Please, Midna.”

Zant flicks a hand and the hero tenses further, an agonized whine breaking free.

“Quiet, dog,” he growls. “Count yourself lucky that I have allowed you the dignity of this form rather than letting the twilight have its way with you.”

“Lucky?” Midna shrieks, unable and unwilling to restrain herself. The nerve of this man! Calling himself her king, banishing her from her kingdom, demanding her aid…and now, hurting the hero. Her hero. “Being a human in a twilight realm is excruciating and you know that full well!”

“Come now, Midna,” Zant purrs, rounding her once more. His attempts at sweetness are as sour as his breath. “Calm yourself. This…human is pathetic in comparison to us. He has enjoyed the fruits of his people’s cruelty for far too long. It is time he felt some small portion of what we have endured.”

Midna is seething now. If only she were in her true form. If only she had that shadow crystal. She would rip this monster’s limbs off and cast him into the light-filled world he so detests.

“What we’ve endured?” She spits. “What about the things my people have suffered by your hand? You call yourself their king while you turn them into disgusting beasts!”

She kicks out, struggling against her bonds. But they hold fast, as suffocating and restrictive as this world.

“I have made the kingdom what it long should have been,” Zant replies, tone darkening. “You would have had it fall into obscurity and disrepair. You would have had our people forget all that they have endured because of the light dwellers.

“But you evade the question, my fallen princess. Will you help me or not?”

Link’s eyes find hers. He is breathing hard, shuddering beneath the weight of his own form. And yet, he smiles. It is only the slightest upturn of the lips, like a thread of twilight stretching bravely into the world of light. But Midna sees it all the same.

“Never.”

The word when she speaks it, shatters the momentary silence. She doesn’t have to see him to know Zant’s expression has turned murderous.

(Though, if she’s being honest, does it ever not look murderous? The man is vile.)

Her eyes, however, are only for Link. He is looking at her with pride in his gaze, pride and…maybe the beginnings of something else? She can’t be certain.

Whatever it is, she doesn’t deserve it.

“No?” Zant laughs and it seems to echo in the cavernous space. “Well then. You truly have fallen far Midna, to conspire with light dwellers in such a way. It nauseates me!”

Power surges through the air, a projectile of pure darkness slicing its way toward the hero. The energy it emanates is so dark, so sinister the air reverberates with it.

Midna gasps as she realizes what is about to happen. With an enraged screech, she struggles even harder than before. But she is helpless to stop it.

Darkness, fierce and sharp, collides with Link’s chest. It keeps going, shoving aside flesh and muscle and bone to burrow deep into his heart. His eyes go wide, blood bubbling from his lips as he chokes on a cry.

“This light dweller pretends to care for you and your world,” Zant sneers. “Perhaps, then, he will enjoy internalizing the shadows you inhabit.”

A skull-shattering scream pierces the air. Link thrashes, fighting desperately to get loose. Streaks of black crawl across his skin now, craters of molten obsidian amongst bloodless white.

“I wonder how much he can take before he breaks,” Zant muses.

He twists sleeve-hidden fingers and abruptly, Link crumples. Shadows dance in the air around him as he transforms. And then a beast lays twitching on the ground before her.

“No, stop!” The shout breaks free before she can restrain it.

But Zant doesn’t seem to even hear her. He is too enraptured by his own sadistic glee at Link’s agony.

The shadows around him grow thicker now, more potent. The obsidian marks spread like jagged lines of ink and blood oozes in their wake. They mar the hero’s lush gray coat, trickle into his once-bright eyes.

Midna inhales a ragged breath. If she doesn’t stop this, if she doesn’t act Link will die. That cannot happen.

She needs him to help her save her kingdom and her people. She needs him to save that little country town of his, and the kids who gaze at him like he is the sun itself, and the family he adores despite how they so violently despised his wolf form. She needs him to save the land Zelda has sacrificed so much for, the land Link looks upon with wonder.

She needs…she needs him.

So, she takes a deep breath and focuses. There is a crack, she realizes with a spark of hope, in the magic Zant is using to restrain her. She isn’t certain how she didn’t see it before. Perhaps, it wasn’t even there before.

It doesn’t matter. All that’s important is the way she can exploit it.

Midna forces her hands inside it, pulls it wider and wider until it is a gaping hole. Then, she shoves herself through, shattering her bonds as she does so. And when she opens her eyes once more, she is free.

She hits the ground with a dull thud and scrambles up. Zant whirls to face her, a screech of indignation ringing out as he unsheathes his swords. But she is too fast for him.

Fiery locks fly free, scooping the still-shuddering hero into their silken folds. Magic surges through her panicked and quick. And with a burst of sharp shadows, they are gone.

She lands them in Hyrule Field, for lack of a better place. It is far from most villages at least, with their mindless terror and ready torches. Gently, she lowers Link into the blades of green grass.

She can only hope that the teleportation wasn’t too much for him. But what other choice had she had?

“Link.”

Midna reaches out, ghostly fingers brushing his cheek. The word hitches in her throat, traitorous emotion struggling to break free. Fiercely, she shoves it back down.

“Come on, you idiot! Wake up!”

As if in response, his breath stutters. Gray-blue eyes flutter open, flitting about in a panic before they land on her. He shifts, brushing his nose against her immaterial form. A low whine echoes in his throat.

Midna lets out a shaky sigh. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. He didn’t touch me. Worry about yourself like you should.”

Link huffs a breath, seeming indignant. But his efforts are weak. His usual snark is gone with his strength, sapped by the madman who had sought to use him.

Shaking her head, Midna turns to gaze at the castle that bravely rises past the horizon.

“You just hold on, Link,” she murmurs. “I’ll get you the help you need.”

And after that? She’ll find the might necessary to hurl Zant into the sun.

[sleepsucks]

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Imprisoning War Drama is consuming me and I cannot contain it any longer, so... here you go.

Hemisi still couldn’t believe this was happening. Link was here. Zelda had sent him here.

Her beautiful, stupid, wonderful friend was right in front her. Her former betrothed was right in front of her. Her best friend was right in front of her.

The pretense, of course, was that he was there to help reestablish healthy relations with the Gerudo. It had been three years since the war, a time that Zelda apparently deemed long enough to acknowledge their existence again. Hyrule hadn’t helped the Gerudo at all in the past three years as Hemisi had struggled to protect and guide her people, as she’d tried to pick up the pieces from a once thriving civilization.

Hemisi had originally been angry about it. Angry about everything. On the one hand, it made sense – the Gerudo had been Hyrule’s enemy. The destruction of her own kingdom was due to Ganondorf, not Zelda. On the other hand, it felt like one last slap, taking her lover, her dignity, and any hope she had of receiving help for her people despite betraying her own father to help Hyrule.

But that was then. It had been three years. Hemisi couldn’t exactly say she liked Zelda or Hyrule, but she also couldn’t say she wanted to see that kingdom burn anymore. She probably wouldn’t mind beating the queen senseless, though. But that wasn’t exactly noble, and she was trying not to be like Ganondorf. Anger was an exhausting emotion, and she was working on not relying on it or feeding it all the time.

Anger was certainly not what she was feeling now. What she was feeling was utter disbelief and exhilaration.

Link was here.

Truly, such a reunion should merit some sort of show of emotion. Instead, what came out was, “You look like shit.”

Link’s somber expression immediately shattered, bursting into life with as he let out a laugh.

And just like that, it was as if the last three years hadn’t happened. It was as if their last conversation hadn’t been her trying to convince him to come home with her, to part ways with his wife and unborn heir. Link was immediately at ease, and Hemisi felt overwhelmingly happy.

Maybe they were just pretending. Maybe enough time had passed that somehow it just worked. It seemed impossible, strange, ridiculous that they were suddenly laughing in the small space that counted as Hemisi’s court room in their new settlement, but… somehow it worked.

Link’s laughter subsided, fading into a gentle, sincere smile. “You look beautiful.”

Well, that was quite the straightforward statement to say in front of all her guards. Link seemed to realize that too, despite Hemisi’s even blunter statement earlier, and he tried to backtrack, but Hemisi waved him off.

“You doing okay?” She asked, pushing beyond it as she smiled in acknowledgement of the compliment.

“Y-yeah,” Link shakily answered, though it was hard to tell if it was due to his earlier slip up or something else. “I’m… yes.”

The euphoria of their reunion was fading fast as something nagged Hemisi’s mind, and she said, “Well, I’m glad to hear it. There were rumors circulating that you were really ill, and I… I was worried.”

Link’s mood shifted, and he seemed to grow closed off nearly immediately. She’d seen the expression before, a mixture of a mask in front of nobles and superiors and the cold, calculating gaze he’d get when he had to guard himself. She felt a strange sense of pride and reassurance that she could still read him so well, but it was far outclassed by the worry that gnawed at her further.

Hemisi waved a dismissal to her guards, who all departed, leaving the pair alone. She rose from her seat (she hardly could call it a throne – none of their new accommodations compared to the splendor of their former capital, destroyed as it was) and walked up to him, closing the space between them. “I’m… look. We didn’t exactly end things on terrible terms last time, but we also didn’t exactly end them on great terms, either. I just wanted to say… for my part, I’m sorry.”

Link’s face softened, surprise peeking through the cracks. “For what?”

For what?! “Oh, I don’t know, for trying to seduce you?”

“You don’t have to apologize.”

“Pretty sure I do, moron.”

Link sighed. “Fine. You’re forgiven.”

Well. Now the initial greeting was out of the way, the wave of excitement was disappearing, and they’d quickly addressed their last interaction.

…Now what? Goddesses, she missed when they could just be casual with each other, when they could just be friends. It had almost felt real for a moment, when they’d been laughing together.

Who knows? Maybe we can make something of this.

“The news was that you were to discuss relations with the Gerudo?” Hemisi prompted as Link seemed at a loss for words.

“Yes,” he hastily confirmed, trying to get his footing, lost in her gaze. “I—the queen wants to reestablish trade. With the border, at least.”

Hemisi read into the words easily. “So having a neutral zone, you mean? Where we can interact? But we’re not really allowed in the kingdom still, I presume?”

“Not—what? Hemisi, you came to the baby shower.”

“Upon being invited by the queen,” Hemisi noted, crossing her arms. “You think we’d have been allowed passage without the paperwork?”

Link’s brow furrowed, eyes upset, and he sighed, taking a step away.

Hemisi glanced around him as a new thought occurred to her in the silence created. “Where’s your entourage, anyway? Shouldn’t the mighty King of Hyrule have some royal party following him?”

“I don’t need one.”

“What about your shadow?”

“I asked Lady Impa to stay in the castle.”

Hemisi chuckled. “Oh, I bet she loved that.”

Link’s eyes grew sad, and he tipped his head to the side. There was clearly something he wanted to say, but he’d always been a quiet man. He kept his words to himself, sighing again.

Hemisi felt like she was fumbling some kind of negotiation before it had even begun. For the sake of her people and her sanity, she tried again. “Look, why don’t—why don’t we have a drink? I bet you haven’t had something as good as a Noble Pursuit since the war.”

The tip of Link’s mouth curled up slightly. “We never had a Noble Pursuit during the war. It was mead, remember?”

Oh, that’s right. It had tasted awful. “Well, then that means you’re in for a treat. Can’t a king enjoy a little beverage? It’s our hospitality.”

Link’s smile disappeared, replaced by something new, a soft, strange bemusement, thinly veiled behind a cool gaze.

“What?” Hemisi asked. “What is it?”

Links shifted, trying to find the right words. “Why are… you’re so… last time we talked…”

“Was over two years ago,” Hemisi reminded him. “What, you really thought I was petty enough to hold a grudge that long?”

“Was it just a grudge?” Link asked quietly, voice heavy.

Was our love just worth a grudge? Is that all it means to you? Hemisi wasn’t entirely sure that was what he was asking, but it certainly felt like it. Was he expecting her to be angry as she had been, bitter and vindictive and wanting to snap? Part of the reason she’d been so hostile then was because she’d immediately been insulted by the Hyrulians – she’d been trying to stay neutral during the visit. Her original mission had been to convince Link to return to her. She hadn’t been there to pick fights over anything else. She hadn’t been there to fight.

But there was something in the heaviness of his tone, in the exhaustion in his face that had merited her initial words, in the tension of his muscles. As much as Link played his part of the Hero, as much as he bowed and kissed the ground Queen Zelda walked on, he very clearly held far more feelings about the matter than he expressed.

It wasn’t as if Hemisi hadn’t known Link loved her, hadn’t recognized their parting would hurt him too. But he’d been the one to leave her. She hadn’t exactly expected him to be hurting as much as she had, left completely abandoned just after killing her father, left to pick up the pieces of a shattered kingdom and people by herself when he had promised to be by her side, left to mourn the loss of her entire family alone.

A familiar hurt and anger churned in her stomach and chest, but she bit her lip and tried to redirect it. “You know it wasn’t. But what are you expecting? You look as tired of it as I am. You’re the one who chose Hyrule, chose Zelda over me. Repeatedly. I did try to convince you otherwise both times. Now you’re surprised that I actually respected your choice?”

Link swallowed, taking a small step away, the dark presence that clouded him seeming to dissipate a little. “No, I—I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that,” Hemisi dully snapped, not quite able to reel in her frustration. “Doesn’t change things. Can we just… try to move forward? And have fun now? Drinks?”

Link nodded sheepishly, letting her guide him to her room. If they’d been in her old home, there’d be an antechamber where she could entertain guests. But as it was, in this new settlement they’d established at the oasis they’d found, she hardly had a regular sized house. The throne room was the only place to have an audience with people formally, and drinks hardly seemed a formal affair to be had there. As she passed the hallway leading there, letting Link get ahead of her, she paused, looking one of her trusted guards in the eye. “Don’t… if we drink a little too much… do me a favor. Don’t let it get crazy.”

The guard raised her eyebrow.

“You know what I’m talking about,” Hemisi whispered irritably. “No matter our feelings for each other, and no matter the choices we make about our relationship, we’re acting on that sober.”

It wasn’t like Hemisi was expecting anything to happen, of course. But alcohol was getting involved. And as much tension as there still seemed to be between them… well. She just… she was better than that. The baby shower had been her last attempt, one last act of hope, a thought that if the queen had an heir Link’s duty was fulfilled. She was not going to be so pathetic as to keep pursuing someone who had chosen another woman, no matter her feelings on the matter.

The guard nodded. “I can respect that. Nothing will happen.”

Feeling far more secure about the matter, she walked into her room. Link was standing in the center a little awkwardly, but his gaze had fixed on one of the walls, eyes a little wide, mouth a little parted, expression unguarded. It was a mixture of surprise, amusement, and regret, eyebrows moving subtly between the three along with his lips.

Hemisi huffed, walking up beside him as she looked at the wall in question. On it was an old painting of Ganondorf (it had originally depicted the entire royal family, but she’d cut him out and kept the rest elsewhere), pinned to the wall with multiple daggers that had been thrown at it. She was still most proud of the one she’d thrown that had ended up between his eyes. It held the piece quite well.

“You like it?” She asked, crossing her arms. “It’s my therapy.”

Link snorted and nodded. “I’m surprised you don’t have one of Zelda.”

Hemisi’s eyebrows rose in surprise. She hadn’t expected that to come out of his mouth. Link seemed equally surprised that he’d admitted it, and he shifted anxiously, asking about the Noble Pursuit. Chuckling, she walked over to where the bottle was sitting in the shade, commenting, “I probably would’ve had one for her a couple years ago. But you didn’t want that, remember?”

She wasn’t quite resentful enough of the queen to throw daggers at her. Zelda herself had seen and dealt with some shit, based on the little Hemisi knew. That didn’t mean she liked her, though. At all. She wouldn’t mind throttling her, honestly. But still. The queen wasn’t nearly on the same level of Hemisi’s hatred as Ganondorf.

This wasn’t something she really wanted to talk about much, anyway. If she vented to Link about how she wanted to punch his wife, he’d certainly jump to her defense, whether he himself liked her or not. And if his defense did prove that he liked her, it would only increase Hemisi’s ire, which was frustrating to just think about. She didn’t want to be petty or jealous. She was better than that.

Even if it did hurt. Even if the past three years alone could have been spent with someone who loved her and supported her, even if maybe her struggle to rebuild the Gerudo might not have been so terrible (or even lethal to some who had died in the interim) for everyone involved.

Hemisi was more than just a spurned lover. She was a chief of the Gerudo, she was a warrior. She would not perseverate on the queen.

She just wanted her friend back. She was hoping a little alcohol would loosen them both up to have an actual conversation.

Three drinks later, they were having more than just an actual conversation. They were having fun.

Link laughed as he put his glass down and leapt to his feet. “Okay, but I want to contribute to your therapy, to your masterpiece over there.”

Hemisi giggled. “With what? You’re not using my knives.”

“I have kunai,” he said easily with a wave of his hand.

“You still carry those, oh mighty ruler?”

“I told you, I don’t need an escort for a reason.”

Hemisi barked out a laugh as she stood on her bed, motioning towards the painting of Ganondorf. “Go for it, then. Good luck hitting anything when you can’t see straight!”

Link wiggled his eyebrows challengingly. “I’ll get him in the jewels.”

“I already got a knife in his headdress and I’m not moving it.”

Link’s smile grew. “You’ll see.”

Hemisi hummed, looking skeptical. What was he going to do, try to knock her knife off the jewelry that adorned Ganondorf’s forehead? Link faced the portrait, hand steady despite how glazed his eyes were from the drinks. He focused for a moment, and oh how her heart fluttered at the sight of it, oh how she remembered all the battles they’d fought together in the war, and oh how—

How the kunai flew, how it whistled through the air it cut as it passed, how it hit sunk into the canvas perfectly, how it landed right between the dead king’s legs.

Hemisi gawked for a moment, Link looked delighted and victorious, and they both scream yelled at the shot, raising their arms in unison.

The air was filled with excitement and glee, at the two young adults laughing and screaming with glee, at how Hemisi leapt up and down on her mattress cheering before she leapt into Link’s open arms and he spun her around. They were giggling in absolute delight, laughing at the release of the moment, at how it finally seemed to entirely break whatever barrier they were keeping between each other. Link got dizzy from spinning and fell backwards, and both rulers landed on the bed with a grunt, breathless from their amusement.

Hemisi jumped up as soon as she had breath to do so, stumbling a little. Link caught her before she fell on a table, and she laughed again, leaning against it instead.

“You’re a lightweight,” Link commented with a chuckle.

“Am not!” She snapped playfully, shoving him away from her with a laugh. Then she glanced at the art. “Feels good to do that, though, doesn’t it?”

Link looked as well, smiling. “Yeah. Too bad I couldn’t make that shot in the last fight.”

Hemisi wheezed. “Goddess, that would’ve been fucking amazing.”

The pair giggled, and then Link seemed to grow contemplative a moment, asking, “You really… I’m sorry. That he… that everything. You know?”

“Why do you apologize so much, Link?” Hemisi asked, far less irritated about it now that her mind was addled.

“I don’t know,” he answered. Clearly alcohol loosed his lips far more than she remembered.

Ah, wait, but there was that time she dared him to call Impa his mother. Maybe she’d underestimated how much alcohol messed with him.

“Pfff, and you call me the lightweight,” she snarked.

Link rolled his eyes, only mildly exasperated. “Fine. It’s all his fault anyway.”

“Damn right it is.”

“But I… I mean… us…”

The air grew thick, and the two grew quiet. Then, softly, Link tried to ask, “Do… do you still…?”

“Do I still what?” Hemisi pressed impatiently, reaching for her drink. “Speak up, goofball. Remember when I used to tell you that when we were first dating? My gosh you were such a quiet, timid little thing.”

“I wasn’t timid,” Link huffed. “Just not used to being allowed to speak.”

“Well that’s stupid.”

“Unlike you, I was just a guard, not royalty.”

“Different now, isn’t it?”

Link sombered again. “Yeah. It is.”

Then he looked her dead in the eye. “I still love you.”

Hemisi nearly choked on her spit, breath ripped out of her. What the—

What was she even supposed to say to that?!

Well. If she was sober she’d probably contemplate that more. Instead, she just said, “I still love you too.”

Link blinked. “…O-oh.”

Hemisi laughed so hard her ribs hurt. “Oh? That’s all you have to say? You’re hopeless! Did you really think I hadn’t? What, just because you said ‘no’ and I respected that you thought that was it?”

Link blubbered, flustered, cheeks far more flushed than they were a moment ago.

“I get it,” Hemisi interrupted his pathetic attempt to formulate words. “You love Hyrule more.”

Link’s stuttering ceased, and he watched her with a clear gaze. Then he sighed, looking away, eyes distant. “I… yeah.”

Hemisi’s heart ached, but it also swelled. His selflessness was one of the reasons she loved him so much. She just… had never imagined it would come between them. “Hyrule has a good Hero.”

Link’s lip wobbled a little, eyes growing glassy, alarming the Gerudo chief a little. He looked at her a moment, eyes pleading, desperately fighting for control, but the alcohol was preventing it from happening, and the tears trickled down his face.

“Oh, love,” Hemisi said, hearing her own voice tremble, and she walked over to him, pulling him into a hug. “I know.”

“I’m sorry,” he cried quietly, words thick and choking in his throat. “I’m sorry.”

Hemisi felt his tears on her shoulder, felt him tremble in her arms. She was uncomfortable and warm, on the verge of tears herself, addled and ecstatic, and instead of really digging into the issue as she might have when she was sober, she kissed his head and said, “It’s okay. You love Hyrule. But… do you love Zelda more than me?”

Link’s quiet cries were sharply interrupted by a hiccup and a snort, and he yanked away from her, expression bewildered.

“Well?” Hemisi pressed, sniffling and poking his chest. In the back of her mind, a voice that was probably what was left of her rational side whispered, this is so pathetically stupid WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST HUG THE POOR GUY YOU IDIOT.

Meh. She wanted to know. They could hug after.

Link laughed. “You—you really—you have to ask??”

Hemisi grew mildly annoyed. “Yes!”

“W-wait, I—” Link moved out of her reach, heading for the table. “I need more alcohol for this.”

“Coward!” She called after him, his laughter contagious.

After taking another swig, Link walked back to her and pulled her to him, their lips meeting, and goddess she immediately drank him in, their bodies pressed so close, and Link poured all his energy into the kiss, hands roaming, and great Din above, Hemisi started to tug, started to feel her heart quicken, her body scream for just one thing, and—

A pole wedged itself between the couple as one of her guards jutted the handle of her spear to separate them. “That’s enough of that, Majesties.”

Link’s cheeks matched Hemisi’s hair, and the Gerudo chief rolled her eyes. “Leave us be!”

“Your orders, my chief.”

Ugh. It was a stupid order.

The guard gently but firmly grabbed Link by the arm, dragging him for the door. Before he left, though, he shot her a smile and a wink, and she knew, she knew in that moment who he loved more.

She smiled, collapsing on the bed, and before the door had even closed she was drifting off to sleep.

XXX

Hemisi groaned. Her head was killing her, and everything was too freaking bright.

She really didn’t remember much of last night, but she knew she’d had far too many drinks. Even if she didn’t recall that much, her body was certainly screaming it.

What had even happened last night? She remembered how it had started. As she tried to comb through fuzzy images, the linear progression steadily unraveled. She blinked her eyes open hesitantly to find herself alone in bed, still wearing her attire from yesterday, and she sighed a little in relief from that. At least nothing neither had planned had occurred.

So where was Link?

Slowly sitting up, Hemisi hissed as some sunlight peeked between the curtains of her room, hitting her eyes like a slap to the face. She shielded her face, grumbling and cussing as she nearly crawled out of the room.

“Good morning,” her guard greeted her.

Hemisi glowered halfheartedly at her, ignoring the fact that she likely looked like a disaster. “Where’s the king?”

“In the guest quarters.”

“We have those in this place?”

“We converted one of the guard’s rooms into one.”

Did they? Was that something Hemisi had planned for Link’s arrival? She didn’t remember that either. Great.

Leaning against the wall, she half dragged herself to the room in question, finding Link leaning over the bed, head nearly buried in a pot. He spat in it, clearly having just gotten ill, hair spilling over his shoulders. A twinge of sympathy pulled at her, and Hemisi sat on the bed, pulling his hair out of his face.

“Morning,” she echoed her guard’s greeting, waiting for a similar bite in reply.

Link just groaned.

In the past she would have laughed at him. Today, she just felt pity. She had been the one to encourage it, after all. She rubbed his back a little apologetically, waiting to see if he was going to get sick again. Instead, he slowly pulled back, grabbing a handkerchief and wiping his mouth.

“It’s been a while since I’ve been hungover,” Hemisi noted quietly, feeling her head throb rhythmically. She grimaced, closing her eyes. She almost apologized, but she chose the better route, smiling. “You’re a terrible influence on me.”

Link huffed, turning and nearly pouncing on her, tackling her to the bed and holding her hostage in his arms. Hemisi yelped, irritated at the motion as it made her headache worse, but also giggling at the roughhousing. She shoved hard against him, but he refused to let go.

“What are you doing, you butthead?” She grumbled, wiggling in his grip.

“Sleeping,” he slurred tiredly.

“Your breath smells awful.”

“‘S your fault.”

Hemisi huffed, admitting defeat. Her heart hammered with cheer at his behavior, at how they could still be casual around each other without the help of liquid confidence. Perhaps it was just that his mind was still addled from the hangover, from feeling uncomfortable and ill, but she’d take it.

Besides, she felt like garbage. She wanted to sleep. Link clearly was slipping back into a nap. So she just joined him.

When the pair woke again, It was nearly midday. A pitcher of water was resting on the nightstand, though neither knew when it had been placed there. Hemisi honestly didn’t want to really start the day, boneless and warm, safe and comfortable in Link’s arms. She remembered all the times they’d snuggled together to stave off the cold, for protection and a sense of security, weapons at the ready, wanting some kind of assurance that the other was okay, that they themselves weren’t vulnerable.

She missed the war. She missed the war.

Things were far more straightforward back then.

Killing was straightforward.

Link shifted a little, snapping Hemisi out of her musings, and she looked over to see him watching her. He was half asleep still, eyes a little glazed but so, so soft, face relaxed and open.

“Hey,” she greeted quietly.

“Hey,” he whispered back.

The moment lasted too long, each lover lost in the other’s eyes. Hemisi felt herself leaning in, Link reciprocating, and they both pulled away at the same time, sitting up with excited energy.

“Well,” Hemisi quipped breathlessly. “Guess we should do those negotiations, right?”

Link blinked, watching her a moment longer, and then squeezed his eyes shut, taking a deep breath and rubbing his eyes. “Yeah. We should.”

“Not that last night wasn’t fun, of course,” Hemisi added with a nervous laugh, genuinely adding, “I don’t remember much of it, but what I do remember was… really nice. Maybe we can still have fun, you know? Without blacking out, at least.” Curious, she added, “Do you remember anything?”

Link huffed a little, mildly amused as he stretched. “Not really.”

Oh well. She was wondering if she could get more information on what had occurred, but whatever. They’d had fun, at least. “Well, we both could use a good start to the day. What about a nice warm bath? With some salts and nice oils… and a massage! Goddess, I sure could use one. I could arrange for it.”

Link peered over at her, letting his hand fall to his lap, and he smiled. “That sounds nice.”

Hemisi felt herself smile in return. They could have a nice day. They could. She scooted in front of him and leaned in cautiously for a hug. Link let her relax against him, carefully wrapping his arms around her once more.

Humming, melting into the embrace, Hemisi noted, “Goddess, I’m glad Zelda sent you alone. This would be way less fun if she came.”

For a moment, nothing happened. She listened to Link’s heart beat against her ear. His arms pulled her closer. And then his entire body stiffened. She felt his chest go rigid, trapping a breath in it, and slowly his arms slipped away. Hemisi pulled away, a little confused, and saw Link staring at nothing, eyes hard, face like a stone.

“Yes. Yes, she did send me alone.” He noted quietly, voice like ice.

Hemisi blinked a few times, feeling like she’d just gotten whiplash. “Y-yeah. She… what’s wrong?”

Link rose abruptly. “We should go downstairs to discuss the trading between Hyrule and the Gerudo.”

The entire atmosphere had changed. The coldest desert nights had never felt this frigid. Hemisi hesitantly rose. “R-right. I…”

She didn’t know what had happened, what was wrong, what she had said. Given how carefree and silly they’d been last night, given how gentle and caring they’d been this morning… how had she said something wrong?

Doubting and overthinking everything she’d stated today, she clarified, “You know I meant… separate. Separate baths. Right?”

Link glanced at her, and though his expression didn’t change, his eyes melted a little, trying to show some concern. “I know.”

That was all he said, and there was still finality to it. Reluctantly, Hemisi walked out of the room, wondering what the heck just happened and how she’d managed to ruin everything.

Link joined her downstairs shortly after, looking somewhat put together. Despite little hints of lightheartedness that she’d throw him, he kept everything strictly formal. The negotiations were quick enough, and before sunset he was ready to depart. Hemisi offered for him to stay the night, to rest and relax, to eat something because by the Goddess Din herself he didn’t look as healthy as he used to, but he refused.

Hemisi watched him go in the dark, her heart heavy, wondering how seeing him again had made things so much worse.

XXX

The king’s arrival in the throne room was unexpected, but the room was cleared quickly as he walked towards the queen.

“Welcome back,” Zelda greeted, a little confused. “I thought you might be gone a little longer. Did it—”

“You did that on purpose, sending me there alone,” Link interrupted her, eyes fierce. “You used me.”

Zelda flinched a little, not used to this vehemence from him, never having seen this. Even at his darkest, cruelest moment, when he’d refused to see Sonia, he’d been cold and quiet. This was the exact opposite. “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t speak to me like I am fool, Your Majesty,” Link growled. “I did not enter our marriage out of blind loyalty and obedience. I’m not your political toy to continue abusing! You sent me there to curry favor with Hemisi!”

“I—yes,” Zelda answered honestly. Somehow, that derailed her husband a little, though it seemed the fire was quickly returning. It gave her time to elaborate. “I wanted to reestablish relations with the Gerudo, and you were the best person to choose for that. You two love each other.”

Link’s brow furrowed further. “Yes. We do. And you knowing that means you sent me there to exploit it. You’re using me to get to her.”

“I just…” Zelda stumbled over her words, heart racing, trying to not feel slightly afraid by this turn of events. “I just want you to be happy.”

“And you want to be able to conveniently control the Gerudo through me!” Link corrected her. “This has nothing to do with me being happy. Do you think so little of me that you assumed I’d just go there and throw myself at her, that I don’t take my vows seriously? Do you think I am that much of a simpleton, a mindless animal driven only by feelings and cravings? You think I’m an idiot?”

“No!” Zelda argued, rising from the throne. “I just—it isn’t meant as an insult or a trap, you wouldn’t be the first—”

“You’re comparing me to your father now?” Link scoffed, voice rising as he gestured angrily. “Can you insult me any further? Will you call me Ganondorf next?”

“Link—”

“I agreed to our marriage because it was a desperate plea, a last-ditch effort to prevent further destruction,” Link growled. “I did it to protect Hyrule, to protect Hemisi, to protect you. You weren’t trying to use me as much back then – you were trying to look out for your people. And you were willing to sacrifice both of us, and I understood and accepted that. I didn’t just follow your orders, I knew what I was agreeing to, I meant my vows when I took them! I committed to this arrangement in every way possible, and you dare treat me like some pawn you can—”

Link cut himself, seemingly enraged beyond words, and he took a breath to calm himself a little before hissing, “Don’t try to use me like that. I am not a blind fool. You think I have spent years in this castle and not learned the politics? I’ve allowed you to utilize me multiple times, but I will not be your tool to hurt or control her. You will never control Hemisi.”

The throne room was deathly quiet as the two monarchs stared each other down. Link’s red eyes were like fire, glare furrowing his brow deeply, while Zelda’s green eyes held uncertainty and hurt, confusion and fear, and the king gave a jerky, terse nod of acknowledgement before storming out of the room.

Zelda slowly sat back down on the throne, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, and buried her face in her hand as she leaned to the side. There were quiet footsteps, carefully loud enough to be heard when they had every ability to hide themselves.

“I thought you had ensured everyone left so no one could listen to our conversation,” Zelda noted tiredly.

“I did,” Impa replied. “And then I came back.”

Zelda blew out a frustrated breath, rising to her feet. “I don’t understand why he’s so upset! I was doing him a favor! He loves Hemisi, they can be together and it still benefits the kingdom!”

“Zelda,” Impa tried to explain gently, but her tone only irritated the queen further.

“Don’t,” Zelda cut her off. “Don’t talk to me like I’m some ignorant little girl. I’ve been ruling Hyrule for almost five years now, I’m not a child who knows nothing!”

“I didn’t say you were, Your Majesty,” Impa said appeasingly.

“Link shouldn’t be—this is so—I can’t win with him!” She snapped, feeling tears sting in her eyes.

Just like with my father.

Why couldn’t this just be easy?! Why couldn’t one thing in her life be easy?!

“Your Majesty,” Impa tried again. “You can’t… you can’t control others’ lives. It’s not like… just giving orders to accomplish a goal.”

“I’ve healed Hyrule through my orders,” Zelda reminded her advisor.

“Yes, you have. But Link isn’t a kingdom, a distant group of people, a problem to be solved. He’s a person.”

“So are the nobles.”

“You manipulate them because you have to. That doesn’t mean you should manipulate everyone.”

It was called manipulation when there was a negative outcome. It was called helping when there was a positive one. If Link had just listened and understood his duty, it would have been a positive outcome!

Zelda sighed tiredly, hugging herself and turning away. Impa was her confidante and advisor. She should listen to her. But…

She needed to pray. She needed to sort this out.

“I’ll be in the temple if you need me,” she said quietly, leaving the throne room, trying to get the terrifying image of Link’s furious face out of her mind.

[givemewallywestorgivemedeath]

Hey, hey, I just wanna pop in here real fast and say that I've just discovered the funniest fucking trans head canons/aus, and that's the Teenaged Mutant Ninja Turtles trans head canons/aus where they have no fucking clue that they're trans because Splinter doesn't know turtle anatomy.

It's the best. Holy shit. It's hilarious dog. They're so fucking stupid, it's great. This is my new favorite thing. They just find out one day that they've actually been trans this whole time because their Dad just assumed all of them were male. But surprise bitch! One/all/whatever of your sons actually had XX chromosomes the whole time!!

This is like... assigned cis at birth lmao

This is fantastic

[loadinghellsing]

WARNING // LONG POST

Anderson is a character of two inverse extremes that he expresses with absolute unwavering certainty.

Best summarized as the belief that "all demons are evil" (bloodlust), and the belief that "all children are innocent" (care).

And everything in between is conflict. Because if all children are innocent, and all demons evil; humanity is the conflict between the two. Once the child dies, and no longer cries, it becomes nothing but a monster.

When Anderson is certain in his standing, his eyes are visible. They express the extreme. But the moment his beliefs conflict or overlap, He shuts down and closes off.

His glasses function as a physical portrayal of this. A barrier between himself and the world for those moments where he's processing, or feeling emotions he doesn't know how to express.

---

There are three core aspects to Anderson's portrayal, beyond the extremes in which he functions. Aspects that are all presented within his introduction.

Issues with Authority.

This interaction isn't exactly "extreme". But one must recall Catholicism is structured around faith in authorities. So, Anderson's questioning, the 'get to the point and explain why this matters', alludes to Anderson not cooperating if he doesn't approve. Regardless of authority. Regardless of shared faith.

*His issues with authority is also shown in the muesume

This scene goes a step further and presents a key conflict between Anderson and Maxwell's beliefs. Anderson thinks Maxwell is too clever. that he schemes and plots - for power, control, influence and Maxwell thinks Anderson is out of control because he acts without scheme.

2. Belief in Innocence

While Anderson curses out Hellsing, the moment he goes on to say "It's England's problem" his expression closes off.

Because that's not a statement he means in its entirety.

Does he have issues with the people? Yes. But he also recognizes the diffrence between "demon" and "human".

And a vampire attack means there is a demon preying upon potential innocent. Innocent that are undeserving of the devil's wrath. Personal prejudice aside.

This is seen when he praises Maxwell for his faith, only to curse him out for his cruelity.

Contrary to when he's seen defending Integra. Regardless of her being their enemy. Because he recognizes her humanity.

Her humanity won his respect. Humanity means as much as faith, for the two go hand in hand.

3. Why he's an Iscariot.

Having issues with authority, and a conflicted heart. It prompts the question of "why does Anderson work with them?" and "why do they call upon him when he's a proven liability? " Well, the answer is because they serve the same goal. All demons are evil.

The moment Renaldo informs him the case is in Ireland, all of Anderson's frustrations are gone. Because that means he gets to deal with it. It's not that Anderson "works for them" per say. More "Anderson works with them".

---

He wishes to be the bayonet of god, to serve god without emotion, regret, or conflict. Dealing with demons is something he can do with absolute certainty.

His bloodlust is fully invested, unashamed, and unmistakably lethal. Bloodlust not held by human law or command. But the will of God.

This is why he's fucking Terrifying. A monster of a fanatic without a leash to hold him back. A force that can't be swayed because his mind is already set.

He's to much of liability to rise through the ranks. But he's far to skilled (if not most skilled member of Iscariot) for them to set him aside. And even if they tried, well... it's Anderson.

Maybe, at best, he'd stay at the orphanage (hard maybe). Because the other half of his unwavering ideology is that "all children are innocent".

---

You don't realize until you get to know Anderson. His self destructive tendencies, the dehumanization, the conflict. How he plunges himself into the abyss as a mere tool because he doesn't want to feel.

That the moments where he's open, alive, and without conflict. Moments where he's human. Genuinely himself. Without goal and a just a little awkward.

Are absolutely precious.

The first page, with the orphans. In Every. Single. Frame. Anderson's eyes are visible. And this continues to be the case if there is anything to do with the orphans. With only acceptations being...

His memory of Maxwell coming to the orphanage; It begins open, but closes off as he approaches Maxwell's corpse.

His expression remains closed off as he mourns. The child who was corrupted, and who he had to kill.

Whenever his two lives blur, such as being in a fanatic headspace at the orphanage, or a fatherly headspace in a war zone, he closes off unless he's left alone.

2. When he dies; With his eyes dried out and lost to the wind like dust. He says his final thoughts and prayer. And hold a final image in mind.

Being the orphanage and his kids. Them laughing, being unbothered by the mess of the world. Oblivious to the weight of life.

That is his comfort in those final moments. The thing he values over all else.

All children are innocent. All demons are evil. Innocence is deserving of protection. Demons are deserving of death. Because those demons are a threat to the exsistance of innocence.

That is what I'd say is the foundation of his character.

(more details/thoughts about this) (extended thoughts/commentary)

[jlf23tumble]

Are you suggesting that music labels don’t use bots for promotion. I think we know they do both on social media and on streaming platforms. Most people choose music from the music that is shoved in front of their faces whether on traditional or new forms of media. A song might not go viral even if the label invests resources in it but it would be rare for a song to viral if they didn’t. Harry isn’t the biggest selling 1D member by accident. Sony invested a shit load in promoting his music.

omgggggggggggggggggggggggggg, do I wish hosepipe suckers in the 1d fandom consumed media from literally anywhere else at least once a fortnight or whatever, jesus fucking wept. This smells like some kind of sad, bitter louie hours, but I'll ignore the bad faith read here and play ball. Yes, labels DO use bots and whatever else they can to boost numbers (see: poor Tate McRae, if you need something in the Harry Styles orbit that's floppin', lorde knows Jeff is TRYIN'), but to paraphrase UMG on this one, fans choose the music they want to hear, and this ask reads like someone who doesn't get how big Not Like Us is. People love to scream A-MINERRR every goddamned time it comes on (it's me, I'm people), we're ready to scream it at the Superbowl, he played that song x5 at the Forum one night in June, and it went off every single time, there are examples galore of marching bands playing it, kids living in the worst hell on earth playing it, wedding receptions workin' it, the list goes on, it's a global phenomenon, this isn't Watermelon Sugar being forced down our throats via Lisa Rinna's shitty dancing, lmao. This was the FOURTH dis track Kendrick released in the span of eight weeks, it's just the one that stuck--and I would argue it stuck because a) it's catchy and b) black celebs were using it in workout vids on tiktok, I don't remember UMG doing jackshit about it, let's just say it wasn't coming up in the grocery store. And if UMG was gonna push his music with bots, why were they waiting for shot #4? Euphoria is right there!

[soobvape]

heol

[all-hail-trash-prince]

Heterothermic

Chapter 7: Terrapene Ornata Ornata (Ornate Box Turtle)

Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Family fluff, mutant biology speculation

Read on Ao3

-----

"Hey, does anyone know how long it's been since Donnie ate?"

Mikey's brothers paused and frowned in deep concentration at the question, which told him all he needed to know. He browsed through the leftovers in the fridge until he found a few slices of plain cheese pizza, heated them up, and made his way over to Donnie's lab. Mikey paused at the doorway though, as he heard muttering coming from inside.

"...wonder if it's possible? I bet Draxum would know…"

On the one hand, it was a bit rude to listen in on other people. On the other, it was Doctor Feelings' job to make sure his brothers were living their best lives. Mikey hid a little smile as he knocked on the lab door. Oh, Donnie was going to love the surprise Mikey had in mind for him!

—

Donnie stared blankly. "What is this."

Draxum sighed deeply. "If I knew, I would tell you."

The day after Mikey had overheard his brother muttering to himself in his lab, he had invited Draxum over to the lair. Even though relations between the turtles and the sheep-man had improved, they were still not exactly each other's favorite people. That was okay, though! This could be a bonding experience!

Mikey grinned while rocking on his heels. "I just figured my two favorite scientists could get together and talk about science stuff!"

"Hmm…" Donnie glanced over Draxum with a critical eye. He was still in his uniform, having come straight over from his job at the school, and didn't look very much like a scientist at the moment. "I… suppose I did have a few questions for you," admitted Donnie.

Draxum sighed again. "Alright, let's get this over with."

As the two talked, though, Mikey could see them slowly growing more and more excited as they talked with someone who was on a similar level of intelligence. Mikey couldn’t help but grin - even if most of the science jargon was going over his head, he was seeing this as an absolute win.

At least, until he himself was dragged into it.

“I wanted to create ultimate, unbeatable warriors,” explained Draxum, leaning back on a counter in Donnie’s lab. “I hypothesized that combining turtles, animals well known for their defense, and humans, the ultimate pursuit predators, would produce creatures that could never be struck down.”

Donnie nodded intently, taking - was he taking notes? Hopefully that wasn't something Mikey would need to be worried about.

“Once I perfected the mutagen, it would take the best of each species’ qualities, so that they would cover each others’ weaknesses. For example, humans are warm-blooded and do not slow down in the cold, while turtles are far better in water than humans.”

Donnie nodded again, but glanced over at Mikey. “Box turtles aren’t aquatic, though,” he pointed out questioningly.

“True,” said Draxum with a slight smirk, “but I chose four different types of turtles in order to experiment with their unique qualities. Aquatic wasn’t necessarily on the top of my list.” His hand suddenly shot out towards Mikey’s face, and on instinct, he ducked his head into his shell.

“See?” came Draxum’s slightly muffled voice, and Mikey felt a light pat on top of his shell. “I chose this species because of the hinged plastron. It can fold in slightly to completely cover the turtle’s head.”

“Fascinating,” came Donnie’s awed reply. Mikey felt his brother’s hand patting around his shell more insistently, and swatted it away as he pulled his head back out.

Draxum continued, “Another reason for choosing this species is that they can be almost completely frozen, but still fine when thawed.”

Mikey blinked. “Wait, WHAT!?” he squawked, at the same time as Donnie said, “We are not testing that one!”

Mikey looked at his brother in surprise. Not that he thought Donnie would play games with his safety, but he thought the scientist would at least ask to try it out.

On seeing his brother’s look, Donnie explained, “It already happened once when you were young. You pretty much completely shut down, so I guess it's not too surprising that you don't remember. But none of us knew what was happening, and you almost gave poor Dad a heart attack.”

“Oh,” said Mikey quietly, mood thoroughly dampened.

Draxum, never one to read the room, simply barreled onwards. “Speaking of resilience to temperature changes, I assume you sweat?”

“We do,” confirmed Donnie.

Mikey, meanwhile, blinked owlishly at the question. “Obviously? Why wouldn't we?”

“Because normal turtles don't sweat,” Donnie explained. At Mikey’s absolutely gobsmacked look, he continued, “Since they're cold-blooded, there's far less risk of overheating than with, say, a human.”

“Yes, well,” Draxum cut in smoothly, “since I'd planned for you to be moving about quite a lot, I'd hoped that that particular trait would come through, in order to help keep you cool. It's good that your skin ended up more human in that regard.”

Mikey held his arm up and carefully inspected it, as though staring hard enough would cause it to suddenly reveal its secrets.

(It didn't, of course, but that still didn't stop him.)

As the topic moved back away from Mikey himself, he settled back into the comfortable (if unbearably boring) position of a simple observer to their conversation. Donnie and Draxum ended up talking for hours, long enough for dinnertime to roll around, and Mikey finally excused himself to cook. As much as he would've loved to have Draxum stay and eat with them, the tension between him and Leo was still sky-high, (err… maybe that wasn't the best way to describe it, given their history) so Mikey simply packed up a Tupperware and sent Draxum home with a serving of food and a promise to return the container after washing it. This proved to be the right decision when, at dinner, Donnie rambled on about all the interesting information he and Draxum had discussed, and Leo seemed far more receptive to it than if the goat-man himself had been there. Who knows, maybe if Mikey and Donnie could soften Leo’s opinion of him enough, he'd finally forgive him.

Though, Leo really did deserve a proper apology for, y'know, being thrown off a roof.

Even as Donnie shot his hand out towards Mikey’s face in order to show off his hinged plastron, (which they'd all noticed at some point, but never gave much thought to) Mikey couldn't quite regret the hours-long science talk he'd been roped into that day. If mind-numbingly dull discussions of inane facts was what it took to bring his family together, then he'd gladly do it a million times over.

-----

1: The Question | 2: Spiny Softshell | 3: Red-Eared Slider | 4: Brumation (Extra) | 5: Shedding (Extra) | 6: Alligator Snapper | 7: Ornate Box

[brittlebutch]

The 'Enjoying watch you suffer' line in Broadcast has always been hard to pin down; Tim's leg getting broken is the biggest incident in Entry #35, so it's natural to want to tie the two together, but it seems to fit so indelicately into what we know about the timeline of totheark's internal relationship that it almost causes more problems than it resolves. However, even though it's very blink and miss it, Tim does actually manage to stab Alex in the arm before he gets knocked down -- we hear Alex cry out in pain, can see blood on the blade when Jay picks it up, and then in the recovered corrupted footage from that tape that Jay posts as Entry #36 Alex says "I did what I had to... he'd just stabbed me" -- and that injury being what totheark was trying to call attention to, to me, reads a lot more clear and consistent than anything else does

[just-some-brainrot]

hyrule: i exhausted my magic but i have pain medicine

twilight: that’s moonshine

hyrule: medicine

twilight: but that’s not the same as—

hyrule: medicine

twilight: i—

hyrule: medicine

hyrule: medicine

[waywardsalt]

anyways. holding linebeck gently

[astrxealis]

me rn having the biggest hots for leon kennedy and astarion sorry LMFAOOO <3

[roxiusagi]

ayoo, hey so hm sorry for my semi-dead state lmao

had been super busy with wrapping school up and other nonsense with uni but that is all irrelevant because I didst all that needed to be done and so I'm back to doing art now ayo!

(except that i am planning on doing a few animatics so that will take a long time so the art here in-between will be sporadical again but shhhh there will be some smaller pieces hahh)

[sysig]

Patreon Tier Highlight:

Graphologist!

A mid tier $$ at $25, see completed pages before the doodles are even edited! See minicomics before they’re ready to be uploaded, scratch pages with concepts I want to digitize, scrapped doodles, studies, concept art, a little bit of everything! Literally hundreds of pages of backlog going back through 2020 currently, all tagged fandom-specific so you can find what you’re looking for! Definitely the biggest bang for your buck, with all the lower non-art tiers as well! You can even see a few examples right here!

Also the Vargases have already surpassed 100-page appearances, so that’s a thing

That’s, to reiterate, One Hundred Pages, not 100 individual images, that they appear on, so take that as you will lol

(Patreon) (ko-fi)