#and those who do just can't see him as the same man who follows zelda devotedly like a tame puppy

[selenityshiroi]

Zelda travelling around Hyrule after the Calamity and people are tripping over themselves to tell her stories about the Hero because they love that feral cryptid mad man and are so proud of him

'I met him when I was about to get eaten by a Hinox...he jumped off a horse, fired 12 arrows in the blink of an eye and then got smacked in the face with a tree...but then he came back and hacked away at it's legs with this stupidly big sword until it finally died'

'He was wearing this weird patched together mask that looked like a monster but he made enough curry for everyone so we didn't like to ask'

'But...the hero was a girl? She wore these lovely green silks and every time she came out of the Gerudo Canyon she had a bag full of electric safflina to sell to Beedle over there. The Gerudo think she's an amazing fighter, which says a lot, and she always thanked me for looking after her horses when she went into the desert'

'I swear to Hylia that he ran through here wearing nothing but his underwear and a mask shaped like a leaf...claimed he was looking for the Children of the Forest. Sorry, Princess, but I'm not sure he was quite right in the head at the time'

'He used to creep in here silently wearing this grey mask and with enough lizards and beetles that we could make enough elixirs to last for a month. Not sure I ever saw his face without it'

And the entire time Link is stood neatly dressed, three steps away, listening to every word and no one pays him the slightest bit of attention. Because none of them cotton on that 'prim and proper Royal Knight' Link and 'I will defeat this Lynel with a stick, a pot lid and a bucket load of adrenaline' Wild Child Hero is the same man. Especially with how many masks he owned.

When they walk away and are out of sight and earshot Zelda just raises her eyebrow with a smile and he is like '...I can explain...it made sense at the time'

[hotcupoteckla]

I just realized that anyone who thirsts after Ganondorf is already made fun of in totk by Nintendo.

So, BotW had 3 little girls who were in the Voes & you class.

Those 3 grew up to full size by TotK, and others have posted about how they accidentally make fun of Link for being short by their fantasy of the Hero of Hylia being bigger stronger and taller than them & how that would be super dreamy. So they overlook Link being Right There in Every Sense. Like the story is punching Link's ego, and forces you to be humble, because you're powerless to react, but it's also punching up at the trio for how shallow they are in a "if they only knew,who knows if they'd even change their tune" sort of way.

BUT CHECK OUT WHO THAT DESCRIPTION MATCHES!

Who is taller & stronger than the Gerudo Women?! The Demon King!!

Like, the only reason Ganondorf is Such a Threat is because he leads the Gerudo Army. And like ALL of them follow his controlling tyrant ways because of how they THIRST for him. They don't even question him or what he wants, they just line up behind him and blow on their Molduga horns, because they think obedience will be granted security.

If those 3 Gerudo Girls saw Ganondorf & he said "I'm the Real Hero of Hyrule," who do you think they would follow?

The person who matches their fantasy of what heroes look like? The male power fantasy looking fellow? Or the smaller one that doesn't appeal to them to even be noticed in a passing conversation?

What does that make the fan base who are similarly fascinated by Ganondorf, if not eerily similar?

Like, I get that it's a fairy tale, all made up, but that IS the point - we need to critique our own reactions to the media we're consuming & ensuring we are better than even the heroes.

We can't just go off and surround ourselves with "Ganondorf is redeemable because he so chonky", because we will see that in the world around us & believe the same.

I'd understand being drawn to villains when our heroes seem so inhuman with their lack of flaws, but Link is Flawed! (The #of flaws he has could go into its own post, so is a digression from the main point)

Ganondorf is the Villain, and while all the character art of him that I've seen is very talented and beautifully put together, we can appreciate the art without conflating that value with his character's value as a person in this story.

Yes, he is beautiful. But his beauty is awful in every sense, & is only there as another sign of his corruption. He cannot be redeemed, he has chosen this every step of the way. He has no honor, no goodness, he is only power hungry.

Bezos is Ganondorf. Trump with a Work Ethic is Ganondorf. Putin in lifts is Ganondorf.

Would Ganondorf artists make out the above as art worthy?

Zelda writers/the game's story are already calling anyone out in the game for blindly following the biggest hunk of meat man with no matter the consequences attitude.

I'm just asking you to not do so blindly.

[ohmysparkle]

🔮 A New Arrival 🔮

✨ Spellbound: Prologue

Series Masterlist

✨ Pairing: Hyunjin x reader

✨ Length: 2.9k

✨ Warnings: none in this chapter

✨ Tag List: @xviternity @straykisz @97lovestay @aliceu @meow-minho @velvetand-roses

✧･ﾟ🌑: *✧🌙 . *⭐️:*✧✨* : ･ﾟ✧ *.🌑 ✧･ﾟ

A dainty young secretary in a stylish little skirted suit dashes down a hallway towards an office, holding a telephone receiver in her hand, careful that the wire doesn’t snag behind her lest her boss get upset. Afterall, he’s been waiting for this for quite some time.

Knock, knock, knock!

“Yes?” A sharp voice calls out on the other side of the heavy wooden doors. She opens one wide.

“Mr. Mayor! They’re on the line for you!” She urges.

“Damn time, Alyssa! Come in, hurry up and bring your notebook!” He shouts. The secretary dashes back to her desk and grabs her notepad, looking back to the Mayor’s office to see if he’s connected to the line before she hangs the receiver. She dashes back, little heels clicking on the glossy floor.

“Speaker.” She insists to the mayor, urging so that he presses the button in time for her to hear the person on the other line answer. His neat mustache wiggles before he gives a stern “Hello.” for whoever is on the line.

“Hello, this is the Old Zealand Office of Coordination for the Association of Guilds, Clans and other Specialists on Magical, Supernatural and Paranormal Affairs, also known as SMSPA Central. This is Ezra, Lead Coordinator, speaking. What may I help you with today?” Both the Mayor and his assistant quirk eyebrows at the upbeatness of the man's way of speaking, and the mayor clears his throat before his focus escapes him.

“Ezra, good man! This is Mayor Armand Brandywine speaking from Nocturne Town, from the League of Lake Towns… Uh, calling because, hmm… I believe Ezra, it’s been two months-“

“Nocturne, Nocturne, Nocturne… hmm?” Ezra ponders, measuring the familiarity of the name - “Oh yes! The Ponies! I saw your Towns in a travel magazine just last week! My wife has insisted we go over to the League for our anniversary, she says apparently the great lakes over there are crystal clear, and that there are hills full of flowers and quaint little towns pocketed beneath, and that you use the most darling trains and ferries to move about. And the semi-annual pony contest!”

“I - yes, well - we do. Listen Ezra, as I was saying… it’s been four months since we filed an official request to have a specialist come here to help with a witch problem…”

“A witch?!” Ezra exclaims in disbelief, “A witch way out there? No way, you’re not even close to any of our mildly risky areas… there’s hardly any magical activity on your continent. Are you sure it’s a ‘bad’ witch?”

“Yes, positive.”

“Like a ‘sold her soul’ to the devil kind of witch? Or ‘weird lady who lives in the woods and smokes a pipe that makes people sort of uncomfortable but is actually really harmless’ kind of witch?” He questions.

“The former.” Armand replies flatly, giving Alyssa a look.

“Bad?” Ezra confirms.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“And to whom did you submit your request with this claim?” Ezra continues asking.

“To a mister…” Armand looks at Alyssa.

“Zachary Z.” Alyssa whispers, clearly mouthing out the name.

“It was addressed to a Mr. Zachary, I believe he was the liaison for this region.” Armand states.

“Oh no…” Ezra does not say anything after this exclamation, and again, Alyssa and Armand share a look throughout that moment of silence.

“Oh… no?” Armand asks after uncomfortably expecting Ezra’s reply..

“Yes, ‘oh no’... you see, Zack was on a field assignment a few months ago and… well, he died. He was assessing if a local pyromancer had become a danger worthy of sending a specialist.”

“Oh.” Armand mouths to Alyssa, with her silently making the same gesture.

“We wouldn’t have any record of his assignments - he had his suitcase with him when he burned.” Ezra continued.

“Oh!” Alyssa silently exclaimes, again, crossing wide eyes with her boss, both of their faces contorting into grimaces.

“Oh poor Zack… He burned, suitcase and all…” Ezra reminisces. Armand is at a loss of words in the awkwardness of it all until the man on the other end bounces back. “So anyways, tell me about this witch of yours to see if I can help. When were the first and last reported sightings? ” Ezra returns to his upbeat, almost musical tone of speaking, having not missed a beat despite the sorrowful interlude.

“Well, you see… no one’s actually seen here. But - “

“Invisibility, you say?! Now that’s something you don’t see often!” Ezra prematurely interrupts, not missing the opportunity for his pun.

“No, no! I mean we haven’t sighted her… yet!” He corrects.

“So you are… placing a request for a specialist… for a witch that is unconfirmed?” Ezra says rather skeptically.

“But, there have been signs! Items, I mean trinkets, of witchcraft appearing in people's homes, dead animals stuffed with tokens…” the Mayor explains.

“Don’t forget the symbols!” Alyssa urgently whispers.

“And symbols! Runes! Painted on people's doors and under their beds!” Just as if he were visiting a skeptical doctor, Mayor Brandywine made the symptoms seem as serious as he could in fear that he would not be taken seriously.

“Hmm… could just be a prankster… any other proof? Any bewitchings? Hexes? Evident signs of curses or dark magic?”

“Well… people have dreamt of the same faceless woman, but I’m afraid we can't prove anything.”

“Well, in that case, it might be difficult to process a request on the basis of a witch. Besides, if there really is a witch, and she’s not actively harming the population, it might be better to just… let her be.” Ezra muses.

“Let her be?!” Alysaa mouths to Armand, which he repeats verbatim to Ezra on the line with emphasis on his outrage.

“Well, yeah, I mean… ‘evil’ and ‘bad’ are both pretty wide scopes. Maybe, if you think about it, witches are almost still human. Just think of her as a bad neighbor. Sometimes it’s more bothersome to deal with them and confront them than to simply let them be” Ezra suggests.

“Wait! Hold on, hold on! Can’t you at least send us someone to evaluate the situation? Maybe one of those fancy Black Knights?”

“Ha! Black Knights, ha! Get a load of this guy Zelda, he wants a Black Knight for one witch!” Armand and Alyssa can hear several people laughing on the other end of the line, most likely seated in desks beside Ezra’s. “No way… have you not seen how things are over in Arcadia? Necromancers, lots of real witches that people actually see, all kinds of undead… ha! Good luck trying to find a Black Knight at this rate, they’re all boarded up in their own country. Simply no way. They won’t leave their little civil-war-issue-thingy over there unless it's something serious. Like bad bad bad black magic serious, not ‘maybe a witch’.”

“Fine!” Armand says with an eye roll, “What about an Other Brother, or a Ghost Buster?!”

“Listen to this guy! Are you honestly willing to go beg one of those associations for an unconfirmed witch?”

“Alright, alright… What about one of those Arctic Druids?”

“No! No! Simply no! We do not work with those people anymore, they are way too fond of human sacrifice. No!” He firmly refutes.

“Then who the hell can deal with a witch?” Armand asks in exasperation, still communicating with Alyssa in silent glances.

“Oh we’ve got a handful of people available… but not for your case, seeing how it is. Hmm… let me think… Are you maybe dealing with anything else?” Brandywine takes advantage of this question to put in complaints that have been more complicated to deal with.

“Yes! Werewolves - plenty of them, and I’m pretty sure someone has been sneaking some bloodusckers into town.” The mayor emphasizes this with a slammed palm on the table.

“Well, Mr. Brandywine, I’m seeing here that some of the towns in the League allow werewolves… hmm.” The sound of flipping papers and heavy slams of stack of folders is clear over the speaker. “But I see here in my records that Nocturne itself is not a ratifying member of the ‘Treatise on the Rights of Magically Affected’ of ‘78, yet I also see that werewolves residents are allowed so long as they adhere to specific medical protocol - which as I see, is being tended to by a Dr. Nemo…”

“Yes but they are a danger to the population! They - they…” the Mayor looks at Alyssa for guidance.

“Say they spend the full moon naked in the woods!” She whispers with fervent urgency and he nods. Bingo!

“They transform without any kind of restraint, running free through town. The woods are like a hunting ground for them, God forbid any innocent happen to roam near there at night. Near feral, I say!” Armand dramatically states.

“Hmm… Well, they should be following medical protocol under the supervision of a trained magical practitioner. I see you have someone assigned,,, a Dr. Nemo? And, these vampires, they are outlawed within your jurisdiction, is that correct? I don’t see any record of any vampiric trespassing, no reported cases or documentation here at all.” Armand worries at Ezra’s skeptical tone, concerned he’ll lose his request.

“It’s that damn Doctor, I tell you!” He finally exclaimes, “I’m sure she’s been bringing in all those vampys under the table. You know what we do to them, they must submit to the authorities to be defanged and treated - that is the law here. Some of those free loving magi hippies on the other Islands may think differently, but everything to the west of me is a Vampire Free Zone.”

“The sirens!” Alyssa quietly interjects.

“And do not get me started on the damn sirens! Zombies too!” Armand concludes.

“Hmm…” Ezra thinks, he has quite a dilemma. According to all records, Mayor Armand Brandywine and several other governors in the League of Lake Towns are quite ‘anti-magic’, not so much the practice of it, but the act of being magical. He isn’t a stranger to getting calls like these, trying to put much needed specialists in situations that are otherwise political, and quite frankly, he was quite clear on not having one of his guys go in to terrorize people.

Ezra considers some of Zachary’s old notes… scribbled on some files in a shared folder. “Mayor Brandywine - staunch anti magi-humanist” meaning, he did not consider magically affected peoples, such as vampires and werewolves, zombies and sirens, to be human at all but instead monsters. Ezra could not allocate a particularly special specialist such as a Black Knight for such a frivolous case. After all, there were greater urgencies elsewhere on his hemisphere. Besides, his organization did not treat such individuals as monsters, he could not give Brandywine what he seemed to suggest he wanted. Monsters, by the standards of the SMSPA, were non-human entities. Enchanted animals and whatnot, ghouls, definitely the incurable undead - so long as they were precisely incurable. He thinks of a possible solution until something catches his eye…

A sheet tucked neatly into the regional folder where Mayor Brandywine’s town’s information was, titled simply “Dr. Nemo - Practitioner of Magical Medicine and Professor of Magical Biology”. Most of the fields were blacked out with ink, a brief description stating that her office was in Nocturne Town, despite the stance of Brandywine, and that she taught a focus course in a magical academy on the other side of the League. Hmm, no picture either, and suspiciously young.

Ezra continued to study the sheet, finding something of particular interest. A stamped red seal that every coordinator in Central knew, but that he had only come across twice before in all of his years of service:

Do not intervene - Tier S approval. The licences assigned to this person were quite… advanced, and quite… obscure. And below… request submitted by the Armed Forces of the League of Lake Towns.

Ah yes, a centralized police and military force for all of the smaller cities and townships in the League. Must be messy, especially considering the polarized stances on magic from the different members on the lake. But why would a magical practitioner require such high level authorization? He’d only seen it used for instances involving Black Knights and the like… never for something as lowly as medical men.

This is definitely one of those hush hush situations, lots of the specialists in his region required anonymity, hid from persecution because of their skills, or ran from some of their previous targets… especially if those individuals worked in the same field as this so-called Dr. Nemo. But this person… he didn’t place them in Nocturne, or else he would have remembered. This must have come from higher up - one of those top secret cases that Zachary would occasionally manage.

It certainly was curious. He held the blacked out form in his hands, retracing the dented letters that pressed this curious name on the paper… Dr. Nemo. Sounded like something out of a book.

“I have… a possible solution.” Ezra finally states, after the Mayor and his assistant had been expectantly leaning into the speaker for some time. “Maybe, perhaps, I can send you someone… Zandor!” Ezra calls to someone who seems to be at a distance from him. “Have we got any newbies?”

“What field?” A voice calls back in the distance.

“Monster hunters.” Ezra specifies.

“We got a class of newbies from that place they sent us that last guy from - the one you sent after that undead bear.” Zandor answers back.

“Gimme!” Ezra orders with a couple of finger snaps, and soon enough Alyssa and Armand hear a heavy folder plop on his desk. “Let’s see here… hmm, quite a few available clansmen… eenie meenie miney mo! Aha! No, not this one… aha!”

Ezra studies the page. The picture is of a young man who looks a bit too young to be in the field. The boy is trained to deal with most issues passively, good references, a bit inexperienced. No reports of excessive force. Mayor Brandywine won't be able to do much harm with the kid’s stats, he thinks, and he’s got good training and just the right licences. Silence again, until Ezra resumes after having studied the file.

“Aha! I’ve got your man. Hmm, and he’s quite a looker! Hyunjin, Hwang Hyunjin. Recently licensed as a tier one monster hunter… deals with all kinds of threatening non-occult entities... authorized to identify threats that are of the occult or ‘other’ nature. Can dispel moderately complex dark magic… transfiguration, discretion, stealth. Sounds good. The boy won’t cost you as much as a Black Knight, that for sure. If you have a werewolf or vampire problem, he can deal, and if you do have a witch, he can send us the claim and we’ll scale it up. How does that sound?”

“Not ideal.” Armand replies with a sigh. “How much does he cost?”

“Hmm…” Ezra presses keys into some kind of machine, “two and ninety seven hundredths of Zealand Zeals per Rupee… fifteen point two Limnian Ponies per… He’s gonna cost you twenty thousand Ponies a month.”

“How much do we have?” Armand quickly whispers to Alyssa.

“We can go up to thirty grand.” She replies. He nods, knowing what part to play.

“Twenty thousand?! We don't have that kind of money!” the Mayor exclaims, putting on the best of his acts. “We can do fifteen!”

Ezra takes a good, long sigh before replying. “Fifteen… and you offer top quality room and board, full, two days a week off, and one day a week for him to take private jobs in the area. He works four days for scheduled items, but will be available 24/7 for emergencies pending his acknowledgment of it actually being an emergency.”

“Deal.” Brandywine quickly affirms, quietly snickering at his accomplishment.

“That being said… I see you only have one other magical specialist in the region, that being this Dr. Nemo. You will make sure Clansman Hwang has access to medical care in the case of any event, and you will make sure he is given a thorough briefing on the area he will service, in this case I am writing his permit to do his work in Nocturne Town, and authorizing him to take up private commissions and attend to emergencies throughout the entire League.”

“Done.”

“Very well Mister Brandywine - “

“Mayor.” He corrects.

“... Mayor Brandywine. You can expect your specialist to arrive in ten days, please be mindful of the documentation and permits he hands you, you will need to keep them safe. Payment instructions will be attached, we collect monthly. For any additional inquiries, feel free to call, and I’d greatly appreciate if you could stay on the line to answer a quick survey if you considered my services satisfactory this day. Thank you for calling Old Zealand Office of Coordination for the Association of Guilds, Clans and other Specialists on Magical, Supernatural and Paranormal Affairs, goodbye.” Ezra’s tone had become flatter, but in view of his dirty victory, Mayor Armand Brandywine did not notice.

The line soon goes dead.

“So… looks like we’ve got a fix to our little problems. Make sure to register the expenses as twenty thousand ponies. Understand?” He says to Alyssa.

“And if it’s not billed in the invoice? They said only fifteen.” She questions.

“Administrative expenses.”

[ranger-kellyn]

Do you ever think about how in BOTW Robbie says in his diary he never got to say goodbye to Purah? Like- I can't. I JUST CAN'T! 😭

WHEN I TELL U I THINK ABOUT THAT NEARLY EVERY DAY I AM ONLY BARELY EXAGGERATING

i reFUSE to accept it. i think he lied in his notebook. they all write their journals like they're EXPECTING them to be read. they all LIED and i rEFUSE-

-----

have the extended wip from my very first wip wednesday based on this VERY THING

-----

Slapping her hands over her mouth was all Purah could do to smother her own laughter, watching as Robbie smacked Link in his lower back with his rolled-up notebook.

“I’m starting to think I liked it better when you kept your nose outta things!” Robbie said, huffing and puffing his entire way back to his chair.

“I’m sorry!” Link said, keeping his distance out of swatting range.

Robbie swatted at the air, grumbling again.

Looking over at Link, all Purah could do was grin. “What’cha get into this time, Linky?” she asked.

He crossed his arms, face flushed with embarrassment.

“Journals I never said he could read!” Robbie answered, getting another laugh from Purah.

“How was I supposed to distinguish that from all your other mess of papers that you said I could?” Link asked.

The look Robbie shot her was that of, ‘Can you believe this guy?’

She shook her head. “Now he’s done it to both of us…”

Robbie continued to fuss at Link, all the way until Jerren and Zelda came to his rescue, dragging him along on their trip to Skull Lake to further investigate the shrine that was there.

Given it had been over 100 years since they last saw one another, Purah opted to stay behind with Robbie to continue catching up.

For the both of them, seeing one another after so long was...odd, at best; but in the same breath, odd always accompanied their relationship in some way, pre-calamity and post-calamity, so it wasn’t too hard to find a rhythm with one another again.

On Purah’s end, it was odd seeing Robbie as he was now. As a little old man, with a wife and a kid. (Never mind the part where his wife had been her assistant at one time)

For Robbie, even though he was fully aware of her experiment that had led to her physically reverting to a child, nothing could have prepared him to see her looking almost exactly as she did the day they last saw one another, the only key difference being a lack of dye in her hair and on her nails.

“What was he even getting into, anyway?” Purah asked, setting her cup of tea on the table separating them.

Unrolling the notebook, he leaned forward to place them down, angled to where she could read the first page -an invitation to continue reading if she wanted. “Just an old journal detailing coming out here and whatnot. My fault for having it out, I guess.”

Waiting for him to lean back, she looked down at it. “Can I?” she asked.

He nodded. “Go ahead. Nothing good in there, anyways. Just a lot of guilt,” he said, tugging at her heart.

She knew the feeling all too well. Far too many of her early journals were just detailed rants about the guilt she felt about not having done enough to stop the calamity.

As she began to read the first few pages, a smile tugged at her lips. His writing always tended to be more...poetic. Writing tended to be the only place he ever properly gathered his thoughts, whereas when speaking he could easily get off on one tangent, only to go down six other tangents before finally getting to the point.

It was one of many things that helped them get along, seeing as she was no better in the manner.

“Pushy? Me a pushy woman?” She asked, her grin evident in her tone.

He crossed his arms, returning the grin. “Don’t even pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about,” he said.

She rolled her eyes in a playful manner. “I have never been pushy a day in my life. Especially not when it came to you,” she teased.

He chuckled. “Pushiest damn woman I’ve ever worked with,” he said.

When she looked up at him over the notebook, it occurred to him that, a lifetime ago, the look would have been more than enough to drive him mad in only the best kind of way. In only the way Purah ever did.

“Oh, please, you liked it. You wouldn’t have rolled over so easily if you didn’t. Mister Rebel Without A Cause only ever let me push him around,” she added.

“You and now my wife, apparently,” he said, thinking nothing of the comment.

Purah hesitated, re-reading the same line she had been on again. “That’s because I trained her first,” she said.

She re-read the line again, still not absorbing any of the words, too suddenly consumed with the thought of her oldest partner marrying and having a child with her old assistant. An assistant who was fifty years younger than the both of them.

If there was one major drawback of suddenly being so much younger, physically, it was that her emotions had distinctly become harder to control again. All the experience from her lifetime wasn’t enough when faced with a frontal lobe that wasn’t fully developed again.

A frontal lobe that only wanted to scream about how wrong all of it was. A frontal lobe that was competing with the knowledge that the calamity had forced people into odd situations, good, bad, and indifferent.

Robbie and Jerren were merely a product of the calamity; two people making the best of a bad situation neither had any control over and--

She re-read the line for a third time, finally registering a few words.

Though, it was thanks to her third re-read that she realized something: this wasn’t Robbie’s writing.

At least, it wasn’t his writing from when it would have been written.

Despite his hasty nature, his handwriting had always been immaculate. Neat, flowing letters, always in a perfect line even without some sort of paper line to guide him.

This handwriting was...scratchier. Some things didn’t connect the way they would have in the past. It wasn’t like his current handwriting, but it was better…

As she turned the page to continue reading, she hesitated.

Up to that point, she knew his account wasn’t entirely accurate, but had chalked it up to emotions getting in the way.

The way he described their parting, however, was an outright lie.

“Lost in my thoughts, I didn't notice that Dr. Purah had slipped away. I knew Hateno Village wasn't much farther along the road, and that the Calamity had barely touched that area... So I felt safe letting her continue on her own. We parted ways without even saying good-bye, I suppose. Stirring myself back to action, I set out on my own journey back to Kakariko Village.”

Closing the notebook over her finger, she looked up at Robbie. “You and I both know that’s not how we parted,” she said, keeping her voice down, as though there was even anybody to overhear.

He looked away, unable to come up with a response.

“I might have skipped over some details, but I at least implied what happened,” she continued, feeling a distinct ache in her chest, cursing her young body. She had sworn a long time ago she had put all those feelings to rest.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he carefully looked back up at her. “You know I very well couldn't have written out every little detail like some trashy novel-”

“Like I said, I at least implied…” she defended.

Though, there had been a journal, long ago, right after she set up in Hateno, where she detailed everything. From everything the two of them had done, to every emotion she had forced herself to hold back from saying.

The guilt she felt from burning it in the ancient furnace nagged at her now and then.

“Don’t know why I’m trying to keep secrets after 100 years.” He adjusted himself to be more comfortable in his chair. “That’s an amended version, Cherry.”

From the other room, she just barely heard the Ancient Oven stir to life, a low grinding sound as it moved around.

Despite herself, she felt a shiver run up her spine. It had been a long time since she last heard that nickname. A nickname he had given her after she first put the red streak in her hair. A nickname she only allowed him to use.

A nickname she realized he had omitted from the journal -something he would have never done in the past.

She leaned forward again to put the notebook back in its place, her desire to read any more thoroughly quashed. “You never told Jerren about us, did you?” she asked.

“No, but in my defense, you never did, either,” he said.

“No, but I didn’t knock her up and marry her, did I?” she asked, not holding back any of the bite.

He seemed to flinch at her words.

Over 100 years later, and she could still get a rise out of him; always knowing just how to get under his skin.

And like 100 years ago, no matter how much he wanted to fight back, he rolled over.

“Jerren wasn’t even born by the time you and I had to part ways. There wasn’t a point in bringing it up,” he said.

She’d rather he just punch her in the gut.

She wanted to fight back. To yell. To lay into him for making her think that what they had never actually meant anything.

For the life of her, she couldn’t. No words would come out.

Robbie breathed a laugh. “I know that look, Cherry.” She wanted to tell him to drop the nickname. “Whatever you’re overthinking, don’t overthink it.”

She rolled her eyes, pushing herself back into her chair. “Easy for you to say. You’ve got an old man's brain! I’m over here stuck with my dumb twenty-something brain that is determined to bring up every dumb emotion I swore up and down I had buried!”

He was silent for an uncomfortably long time.

Staring at the fire crackling away in the fireplace, she nearly jumped when he said her name.

“Humor me. Come with me a minute,” he said, sliding off his chair.

She said nothing, but stood to follow him.

He led them back into the main room, where the Ancient Oven turned to greet them, their weird voice tone still grating to Purah’s ears.

“Greetings, Dr. Robbie and FamiliarNameMissing,” they said.

Robbie chuckled, regarding the machine with a look that was probably uncomfortably soft for just about anyone else. Purah, however, remembered the look well. He had always been attached to the guardians they had drug into the Royal Research Lab, giving each of them individual names.

At the time, she pretended to think it was stupid, but, secretly, she had known all the names he had given them.

“My pride and joy, the Ancient Oven. Few things I love more in life,” he said.

She breathed a laugh, uncrossing her arms.

“Jerren, though...hates it,” he continued, getting another laugh from Purah.

“Kinda figured that. The way the poor thing sprung to life after Link finally replaced the blue flame told me it hadn’t been on for a while,” she said.

It had been rather sweet; Link not even needing to be asked to do it. The second they arrived, he saw that the outside furnace wasn’t lit, and headed off without prompt. The personality adjustment was still new to everyone, but he still had his core, endearing qualities.

“Ancient Oven wasn’t her original name,” Robbie continued. “And well...I suppose you deserve the truth.”

The machine looked between the both of them, Purah now regarding her...differently.

“Ancient Oven, what’s your name?” he asked.

She focused on him. “My name is simply Ancient Oven,” she responded in her odd cadence.

He shook his head. “What’s your real name? The name I gave you?” he clarified.

She hummed for a second, a slow grind of her gears. “My name is Cherry.”

There had been considerable heat emitted from the machine before, but Purah was positive the heat she was now feeling was from her own flush.

“Why are you named that?” Robbie asked.

“I am named after the first woman you ever loved...” The machine almost seemed to hesitate.

Maybe it was a part of her programing to acknowledge everyone within her vicinity while talking.

Maybe it was pure happenstance.

Maybe the machine somehow knew.

“Cherry,” she concluded, looking straight at Purah.

If she was flushed before, she was having a full-on hot flash now.

“Don’t misunderstand me. I love Jerren dearly. I love the son she gave me more than life itself...but there will always be a part of me that belongs to you.”

Run.

She wanted to run.

She wasn’t sure what was making it so hard to breathe. The heat from Cherry, her own flush, or the knowledge that she could say the very same to him.

She wanted to cry.

“I’m sorry-- I shouldn't be here,” she said, turning on her heel to leave.

“Purah-”

“No, no- I shouldn't be here. This was stupid- I’m so fucking stupid-- I knew coming here would do this! I knew seeing you would do this,” she said, ranting her way to the door. She didn’t even bother going back for her coat, or anything else she didn’t have on her person. Zelda and Link could grab it for all she cared. She needed to get out.

“Purah, please,” he pleaded, following her to the door.

The midday air outside was far cooler thanks to the constant breeze coming off the ocean.

She looked around, searching for Mule among the horses in the nearby holding pen.

“Maybe I should have left without saying goodbye! I knew it then-- I should have made you hate me! Getting you to hate me- I should have. I should have done it.” She nearly tripped down the stairs, barely catching herself in time.

“You know damn well I could never hate you. I only ever lo-”

She instantly reared on him, talking over him so she didn’t have to hear that word. “Don’t! Don’t say it! Don’t you fucking say it!” she yelled.

Words that were all too familiar.

Words she said before.

Her eyes began to sting as she fought back tears. “I don’t care if you don’t feel it now, but don’t you dare tell me you felt it then!”

He waved his hands in exasperation. “Why? What is so damn bad about hearing me tell you how I felt?” he asked.

“Because you just don’t get it! You don’t get how pathetic I feel because I never got over you! I never moved on! I promised you I wouldn’t let you hold me back, but I lied to both of us! For over 100 years, I never moved on! I’m pathetic!” she yelled.

Only the wind dared to break the silence that followed. A soft rustle of the spring leaves. A sound far softer than her confession.

It took everything in her to not crumble in on herself. “You just don’t get it, Robbie. Maybe it was easier for you to move on, but I just...I never could.”

He grabbed a hold of the railing, but made no motion towards her. He only looked pained. “I don’t know what to say here, Purah. Nothing I can think of will make you feel better.”

[pessimisticshape]

Analyzing Ganondorf's warbrobe : Oot

After studying Concept art for Oot Ganondorf I've noticed some interesting things about his choice of clothing and what they say about him.

Thanks to BoTW we know that some of the jewelry worn by people have magical properties that can offer protection from the elements and increase physical defense.

Since that's the newest addition to I'll start there:

From the Hyrule Historia

"Likes topaz jewelry. Has several pieces arranged all over his body." page 148

From Botw we know that Topaz is used to increase electric resistance and also that the Gerudo desert is lousy with electric type monsters. It's strange, in Oot there are no electric creatures to fight as the desert in this game was little more than a guided tour. It makes you think, was the use of jewelry for buffs and resistances always a plan but there was just never a right time for them in previous Zelda games? It might also explain where the Gerudo electricity motif came from as BoTW was the first to really explore the Gerudo culture and living conditions. The blistering day and frigid nights and infestation of electric based monsters.

In the real world, it was believed by ancient Romans that topaz protected it's owner from danger while traveling and wearing it on the left arm would protect from curses, cure lunacy, and ward of the 'evil eye'. (This is ironic since Ganondorf would very likely be the evil eye...)It was also once believed to increase body heat. Maybe in the world of zelda, topaz has many of these properties and that's why GD wears. If not then, atleast GD believes they do, which shows that he is somewhat superstitious. Being a magic user he could also unlock these abilities within gemstone using magic. It's also kinda cute that he expressively likes topaz...

I've already established that most most Ganondorf incarnations are wearing Amber jewelry save for TP, who might be wearing Topas exclusively but I'll get to him later. Historical was used for religious objects and talismans. It was believed to bring mental and emotional strength. Many ancient burials grounds contained amber jewelry and objects with their dead as to protect them in the afterlife. The only people we see wearing amber jewelry in Oot is Nabooru and Ganondorf, two high ranking Gerudo. We can assume that amber is reserved for important Gerudo.

Interestingly in some places unfossilized amber, resin, was burned as an incense. When heated and mixed with nitric acid it produced a musky pinewood smell. Egyptians used to put cones of scented wax on their heads to melt throughout the day and perfume themselves, maybe that's what the Gerudo are using them for.

Next is what he's wearing:

"Wears a leather leotard over a black bodysuit. Wrapped in fabric featuring Gerudo designs. A leather guard covers his shoulders and neck. He's also wearing jewelry." Hyrule Historia, pg. 149

I did some reading and came to the conclusion that it would be counter productive for living to wear leather anything in a desert. During the day atleast.

Leather does not offer much ventilation and the sand and heat can prematurely age it. The same goes for the extreme cold nights. It can cause leather to dry and lose it durability, or so I've read, that topic is a bit of a debate in the leather enthusiast community. It can act as an insulator when properly layered.

He's also wearing a leather guard on his neck and shoulders and what looks like leather knee pads so all that leather might just be protective gear for riding. Notice how this leather is darker than the other pieces he is wearing, this might be boiled leather. In-game the Gerudo don't wear any leather that we can see but we know they have metal armor as seen with the IronKnuckles. Maybe this armor is specifically just for Ganondorf. A sign of office. Maybe metal armor is just not practical in the desert heat.

GD is also wearing a thin black bodysuit. Bodysuits are usually made from stretchy, expandable materials but can be made from cotton. Cotton is praised for its breathable and moisture wicking properties. Its difficult to tell but in the concept art you can see that the material making up his bodysuit has a shiny texture to it. In his Super Smash Bros Ult. appearance it's more noticeable that his bodysuit is not skin tight like the concept art.

While it's hard to know for sure, we can assume the body suit it made of some sort of cotton, one that when processes has a silky sheen to it. Maybe Supima or Sea island.

In most fantasy tropes magic users forgo heavy metal armor as it affect the ability to do magicks. Given that we see a few other GD incarnations wearing Robes it can be assumed that LOZ follows this tropes. For all we know GD has other clothing that he wears and this just so happened to the most practical for him to be wear at the time. He is a bandit thief king so it would make sense for him to wear armor that's flexible and makes little noise. Although I can't imagine a man that size being stealthy.

If you go by the imagine we can see that originally Ganondorf was show to lean more toward Gerudo scimitars when acting as a brigand /highwayman. Given the gerudo's occupation in Oot, that could be where all their jewelry comes from. The Gerudo only stole from those that had excess but it's stated that whatever Ganondorf's methods are for thieving put him at odds with his people. Maybe he attacked the poor and weak? Or he was more of a cutthroat?

Interestingly when he takes over Hyrule he doesn't change his clothing, he only adds more jewelry and that carpet-cape. He surely has the means to and there is no other concept art of him in any other attire for Oot so its safe to say that these clothing have more meaning to him than not. Although i completely understand that the limitations of the Nintendo64 and gamecube played a big part in the designs of the characters

Also fun fact, in Creating a Champion, page 191, it refers to the DLC Phantom Ganon Set refers to his Oot pants as "long underwear". Make of that what you will...

https://nintendoeverything.com/nintendo-artists-on-coming-up-with-the-design-for-ganondorf-in-zelda-ocarina-of-time/

https://twitter.com/nintendoeurope/status/883276598249758720

[fatefulfaerie]

Beyond Time Itself

Zelink Week 2019 prompt #8/10

Todays’ one-shot is actually an excerpt from one of my previous works entitled ‘One Moment’, centered around Link and Zelda’s journey in Skyward Sword. You can find the full story via the link below, but otherwise the chapter I’ve posted here is perfect for todays’ prompt.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17659280/chapters/41646086

We walked forward into what looked like the Sealed Temple where I first met that mysterious old lady. It seemed different, but somehow, even more familiar.

"We are now in the distant past," I heard Impa say as I stepped forward, "where Hylia and her servants have only just waged the battle for this land that you have heard of through stories and legends. This place, although eventually renamed to become the 'Sealed Temple', was at this time known as the 'Temple of Hylia'."

As she walked slightly in front of me, Impa gestured her hand forward through large stone doors that revealed a large room.

"And it is through there that you will truly be reawakened as the Goddess Hylia.”

I nodded as I entered, Impa following me inside as I walked up to a red-carpeted pedestal and sat down, closing my eyes.

It wasn’t long until I was thrusted into a vision, much like the ones before.

In front of me was a large, dark hole that deepened in its' mystery as it spiraled downwards into a dark chasm.

And somehow I knew that I was looking into the conduit for a growing evil. Subdued for the moment, yet still a great threat to my land.

I started to hear the sound of cascading footsteps against the charred grass behind me, before they completely stopped.

"Yes, Impa…" I said.

"Impa…perhaps it's a relative of the Impa I know."

"All of his forces have been defeated. The war is over."

"No, Impa, it isn't," I replied, sighing before continuing with, "the war is only just beginning."

Impa took a couple steps forward to stand next to me.

"Is that?" Impa asked.

"Demise, " I replied with a nod, "I have created a seal that I must maintain….but…my power…it's…"

"Goddess!" I heard someone exclaim behind me, prompting me to turn around and find an odd, burly creature panting heavy breaths.

“We found him.”

At the sound of those three words, I felt my heart lurch.

“Lead the way,” I said to the creature before Impa and I followed him through the Temple of Hylia and out onto the vast land that echoed the past calls of battle, its’ beauty ruined by the flames of war.

We soon entered a familiar clearing where bodies of monsters and hylians alike had been rendered completely immobile, their carcasses stacked on top of each other in a morbid display of the cost of the battle waged.

In a corner to my right was a small gathering of creatures who turned around to face us with sad expressions.

And, at the sight of Link laying on the ground they stood on, I let out a shaky exhale.

The creatures parted as I ran to his side, feeling the cold drop of tears wetting my cheeks.

There was no denying it, the blood that coated his tunic, the stillness of his chest, the drooping of his head, his arms.

The man I now held in my arms was dead.

It was hard for me to see him like this, to touch his limp body. Not only because of Hylia's raw feelings of loss, but because I couldn't bear to imagine my Link in this same state.

As I hugged him close, accepting the truth of his end that I already suspected, the creatures started a walk back to the temple. The sound of footsteps prompted me to watch Impa walk closer to me, her red eyes warped with sadness.

I laid Link gently back on the ground and closed his pain-stricken blue eyes before taking his left hand with both of mine.

"Golden goddesses of old," I started, "you entrusted me to be your agent, to protect the Hylians and the Triforce that was left in your stead. In this, I have succeeded at the unfortunate cost of many lives. It is apparent that the fight for the peace of this land has only begun, so I ask you to assist me one last time so that it may continue."

"One last…" Impa said, "Hylia, what are you doing?"

Ignoring her inquiry I continued,

"Farore, the goddess of courage, who, with your rich soul, produced the life forms that walk the earth. When the evil starts to brew again, I ask you to bring back into this world the soul of this hero, who gave his life for my protection, so that his unparalleled courage may be of use to us again."

"Din, the goddess of power, who cultivated the land and created the red earth with your strong, flaming arms. I ask you to create a weapon, that matches the power of the evil sword of Demise, yet opposes it in its’ divinity and proves its' greatness through its' benevolence. The spirit of this sword and the true power of the hero will grow together, becoming stronger within their goal to truly eradicate Demise. The reincarnated hero will be the master of this sword until the evil is truly defeated, armed with the justice of his cause."

"Nayru, the goddess of wisdom, who poured that wisdom onto the earth and gave the spirit of law to the world. I ask…"

I took a shaky deep breath.

"I ask that I be reborn as a mortal at the same time as the soul of this hero. So that…so that I can make up for the mistakes that I've made and ensure that no one else suffers because of them. And also…so that the Triforce, our last hope, can be used for the eradication of Demise. An asset for us as opposed to a force against us,"

"And, of course, the price I pay for this request, my final act that will set all of it in motion…"

"Hylia…" Impa said with and inquisitive tone of warning, not quite sure of what I would say but obviously sure that I could say something risky.

"I will relinquish my immortality."

"Hylia!" Impa said with a distinct shock, as if she were disciplining a child, "Your injuries from the battle, you won't survive if you succumb to them without the protection of the goddesses. You need to ensure that the seal holds…without your power you will subject this world to the evil you are attempting to destroy. There won't be a land left to save."

I took a pause and gently placed my right hand on Link's cheek.

"My power…I can already feel it dwindling…without him, I…I can't…"

The weakness of my voice inhibited me from continuing, yet a warm, supportive hand on my shoulder reminded me of a welcome presence.

"My incarnate," I continued, "can I trust you to guide her? To this time?"

"So…does that mean…Impa is from this age…she was tasked by the goddess to travel across time."

"Or rather, she was tasked by me…"

"And the Triforce…" I said, “its' power is too great to leave in the grasp of man. We may need it a time like this, yet that is a dangerous habit to fall into. Dependence on its' might is an invitation to disaster. When it has served its' purpose, it must be secreted away to lay dormant once again…the knowledge of its' existence hidden from mortal history."

"Yes, of course," I heard in reply before Impa stepped back.

"Link," I said as I retreated my hand from his cheek, "surely this love that we felt will carry on, will ensure that our fates are intertwined, will connect us in a way that will always bring us together."

I then closed my eyes and said,

"Goddesses of old, I urge you, as the chosen guardian of this land and its’ chosen people, hear my pleas and see them through. With that hope in my heart, I now…I now relinquish my immortality for the future protection of this land."

An overwhelming loss of energy overtook me, for I could barely make out,

"…please…" before I felt a sudden dizziness, my vision blurring as the pain of the injuries that I sustained overpowered the capacity of my now mortal body.

I started to feel my consciousness drift away as I lost any sense of being, the whole experience becoming increasingly more dreamlike as the pain swelled.

To brace me from falling hard to the ground I felt Impa's hands quickly grasp around my right arm before I gently was laid down.

I squeezed Link's hand as my eyes slowly closed again.

Soon, all I saw was a golden light, completely enveloping the otherwise black void of darkness. 

When my eyes opened, I felt within myself an awakening, of my understanding, of my purpose, of myself as Hylia's incarnate. It was as if I truly did close my eyes on the ground next my hero and opened them here, in this temple.

So, when I turned around to find that Impa was bowing down to me, I only stood, accepting my destiny and the reasons for her reverence.

"I know what I must do now," I said when my eyes found her red gaze, "I must stay here, in this time, to ensure that Demise does not break free of his seal."

Impa nodded in agreement before I asked,

"So I shall start then?"

"No, your grace, Now we wait."

"Wait for what?"

"For him"

"Link?" I retorted, trying not to get too hopeful about the prospect of seeing him again.

"Yes, I believe now is the time, his blade is in need of your magic and both of you are in need of each other. I will step aside. I now see that…I must apologize to you. I underestimated your chosen hero, I ignored him, cast him aside, berated him. He didn't deserve the way I treated him. I should never have doubted that he truly is the one. I'm so sorry"

"How am I supposed to respond to that?"

"It's okay, Impa."

"No, it's not okay. None of this is."

"But…she was really just doing her job, the job I tasked her with, the job that entails her to sacrifice everything for my protection."

"I understand," I said as I walked down the steps.

"After all, perhaps she was right that it's best that we didn't really see each other and confirm our feelings."

"Because look what it did to Hylia and her hero."

"Things are so much different now…"

"You look apprehensive," Impa stated as she studied my expression.

"Things have changed. I can no longer expect love from him after he has heard that I've taken advantage of him. I need to at the very least tell him the truth, all of it."

"Do with your time what you wish," Impa replied, "I will not interfere."