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blueskittlesart · 1 year

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do u have any navi thoughts from your oot replay

i've been waiting to answer this until I actually beat the game in my current playthrough because navi is another one of those characters that i think of in like a "set" with several other characters who serve relatively the same thematic purpose; in this case that purpose being the "mother" character, and i wanted to have all the characters in that set fresh in my mind. it's notable that while oot shows us very clear and consistent instances of the ways in which the adults of hyrule fail to protect their children, there ARE several adults who DO go out of their way to both oppose ganondorf and protect and nurture the children under their care. All of these characters are adult women, and all of them explicitly help the children out of some sort of parental responsibility or sense of duty towards them. in this group I include link's late mother, impa, nabooru, and navi.

all 4 mother characters, despite being adults or adult-coded, reject the inaction mentality which characterizes other adults in the game. they become either direct supports or shields to their children from the conflict the world has to offer them, and they are always explicitly punished for their interference--link's mother is killed trying to protect her son, impa's village is burned, nabooru is brainwashed. The mother's fatal flaw is that she will protect her child above all else, even in a world in which children cannot truly be protected. however, with the exception of link's mother, these characters manage to persist even in the face of her punishment, and this is where I think navi becomes the exemplary character.

Navi, after a lifetime of being link's only support system, the only adult in his life he could truly, consistently count on, receives her punishment at the hands of ganondorf--in the final battle, she is pushed out. she is unable to reach her child. she cannot protect him. However, BECAUSE link has grown up with her at his side, he is strong enough to take ganondorf down. and when ganon rises again, navi is there to support link, promising not to leave his side, and the intuitive targeting of that battle (a mechanic which navi is inherently tied to!!) makes it a cinch to win. Navi, and the other mothers we meet, are a reminder to the player that the world doesn't HAVE to be the way it is. Their persistence when punished, their insistence that their children ought to be protected, is a reminder that good adults do exist, and that good adults raise good children. link and zelda are able to win in spite of the adults who refused to help them, but also BECAUSE of the adults who DID. It's a reinforcement of the core theme of oot--that childlike idea that the world SHOULD be good and fair and if it isn't, it should be changed until it is. The mothers of oot are examples of what the world COULD be, reminders that it is possible to grow up without losing hope or growing bitter, and they are examples of the next step for the children they've raised to change the word--to continue fighting even in the face of punishment, to refuse inaction, and to foster that same hope and persistence in the generations to come.

#one thing i've really been noticing this time around is the specific way in which navi's targeting works #because even though other 3d games have that targeting mechanic navi's targeting is noticeably different #in two ways. the first being that she specifically targets weak spots in enemies almost as if she is pointing them out to link #and the second being that she is capable of targeting things link himself doesn't see #whether it be invisible enemies or triggers that are out of his reach or scarecrow points or whatever #it's really reminiscent to me of the way you teach problem solving skills to a kid. you see them struggling with something and beginning to #get frustrated and you say 'hey let's look around. do you see any solutions?' and if they can't see the solution themself you might point #and say 'hey what's that?' just to get their attention on it and help facilitate that train of thought for them #because like in most other games targeting is sort of assumed to be link's own intuition in battle #and therefore it will usually allow you to focus on one enemy within a swarm of them but it won't explicitly light up the weak spot for you #navi does that for link because she's essentially the mother teaching her kid how to problem-solve.#and when she's taken away in the final battle link is able to fight anyway BECAUSE she put so much time and effort into raising him #that he no longer needs her to facilitate that problem-solving process. he already knows how to beat ganondorf #because he's done it with her before. and that's exactly the mother's role in her child's life #protect him and raise him as best you can so that when you can no longer be by his side he isn't afraid.#foster that sense of justice and encourage him to keep fighting to change the world even when it seems unchangeable.#god. ocarina of fucking time #zelda analysis #asks

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nehswritesstuffs · 2 years

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Baratie: Home to Chefs, Strays, and the Occasional Sword Goblin - Part 1

I am currently obsessed with the idea of Sanji being a good dad/uncle/parental figure just on the fucking fly and I feel like you can’t really have enough of that sort of fic out there.

3196 words to start, as this is going to be a few chapters at the least; I know who the unknown element is but I left it purposefully ambiguous, so go ahead and fill it in how you want (or try to guess—that’s up to you) it makes no difference to the story; so much of this is just my self-indulgent good parenting postulating so if you don’t like that I’m sorry but this ain’t the fic for you; I am directly pulling my image of Sanji at this point in his life from the Shokugeki no Sanji side story, and I ain’t sorry

Baratie: Home of Chefs, Strays, and the Occasional Sword Goblin: Sanji puts his search for the All Blue on hold to return to the Baratie and help out Zeff, because when Patty and Carne bother to write him, he knows it's serious. What he doesn't know is that he's going to find something out on the deck one night that will not only change his life, but make him face emotions that have been stewing for longer than he'd like to admit.

He likes to think he's handling it well, but, hey, it's not like he's had the best of luck when his childhood enters the picture.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

There was still so much that he hadn’t done yet, things that he hadn’t achieved, so he really didn’t need a distraction. He had been gone for years, and yet… he had been pulled in once again. The blond’s leg bounced as he hunched over the desk, working late as he dove straight into the minutia of the Baratie’s finances. Sucking down his cigarette, he rubbed his forehead, trying to make sense of the old man’s system.

It was at least a worthwhile distraction—Zeff was sick. No, the shitty geezer wasn’t kicking the bucket yet, but it was enough of a scare that made Patty hold the codger down while Carne wrote their celebrated sous-chef a letter, telling him the news. The younger man arrived three weeks later, with one of the world’s best doctors in-tow. Chopper gave Zeff a thorough examination and ran a bunch of bloodwork, the wee reindeer giving the hope-infused diagnosis that it was merely an upper respiratory tract infection as stubborn as he was, and—given his age and occupation—he was to remain on strict bed rest until it cleared up.

The only problem was that the infection was rather advanced and recovery times were slow even for younger, more robust, less stressed individuals. This meant that bed rest was going to be for three months, minimum, with physical therapy for at least another five afterwards. The elderly head chef of a celebrated restaurant being out the better part of a year wasn’t entirely unheard of, yet it was certainly a thing when there was only one person he’d entrust the daily operations to, and that person was his twenty-seven-year-old foster son of questionable origins.

Thus, Sanji put finding the All Blue on hold, because if there was one thing the shit-geezer deserved in life, it was a good son.

It wasn’t as though he was really getting anywhere; he was starting to imagine that the All Blue wasn’t even in the Grand Line after all. What was another eight months? Year? He’d been dreaming of it for most of his life anyhow, so a while longer wasn’t going to matter in the end. The thing that mattered when all was said and done was how utterly fucked over the finances were. How much of the missing numbers were in the old man’s head and not down in the ledger?! He was almost nervous to find out. It was a far cry from back when they first started the place seventeen years prior, when he was the only kitchen help and the old man the only chef…

The cigarette burning at his fingers snapped him back to the office, letting him remember where he was. Fuck… it was late, and he needed some fresh air—the last thing he needed when Zeff was back up and wandering about was a peg leg to the face because he let the office smell of smoke. He left the paperwork where it lay and dragged himself out, climbing the stairs up to the residency floors and quietly finding his room. Going straight to the balcony, he let out another cigarette and stared out at the dark horizon, right where the stars and the sea met.

After years of being in the middle of chaos—whether it be the Straw Hats or Kamabakka—there was an odd sort of comfort that silence brought. It was never truly silent, as there was still the salty breeze in his ears and the gentle waves at the ship’s lower-most visible deck, but the sort of silence that the Baratie afforded him was something that he never knew he could miss until he did. Customers were full and satisfied, the kitchens clean, the staff resting for another big day, and the promise of more of the same. It was a predictable silence, a reassurance that things had an order, and that life was not truly governed by the Pirate King’s whims or the tenacity of those trying to capture him. He knew it well before, when he was just a kid, but he didn’t value it then as much as he did now.

Another long day was ahead of them—might as well get some sleep.

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The ship was just beginning to wake as Sanji brought a covered tray up the stairs with him, heading straight to Zeff’s room. The blond lightly rapped his knuckles on the door, alerting the other man of his presence.

“Oi, you decent, ya piece of shit?”

“I would think that the term ‘decent’ is subjective,” was the growled reply. Sanji walked into the room and saw Zeff sitting at the table in the corner, sourly glaring out the window at the pale dawn. There was not much he could do other than sit there or sit in bed, and he’d prefer to not get crumbs in the sheets.

“You seem chipper.”

“You’d be too if you were stuck in here all damn day.” Zeff coughed grumpily as he watched as Sanji set the tray down and uncovered the food—fried rice for both of them. “You sure that reindeer knows what the fuck he’s talking about?”

“I have the utmost faith in Chopper’s diagnosis, and you should too,” Sanji reiterated, his answer well-practiced. “Don’t make me get him on the Den-Den—he will make the trip back from Sakura early just to beat your ass.”

“I’m quaking in my boot.” He accepted the bowl of rice and began to eat, watching as Sanji sat down and began serving his own portion. “Speaking of—hear from anyone else lately?”

“Not really,” he shrugged. “It’s mostly just been Chopper I’ve seen as of late. Most of the others are either too scattered to be reliable fonts of information or their updates are more rare.”

“Not even the ones who are from these waters?”

“Eh—Luff’s somewhere, though where exactly is a mystery considering no one’s been able to contact him since he wandered off after the wedding, Nami’s in the South Blue last I heard, and Usopp’s too busy raising an army in Syrup to do much else.”

“…and the mossy brat?”

“Marimo’s off doing… whatever the fuck he’s doing. I dunno.” Sanji shrugged; Zoro still wasn’t the world’s greatest swordsman, and the last time any of the crew had heard from him he was “going back to the beginning”… whatever the fuck that meant. Their relationship was strained anyhow… though the last thing he was going to let the geezer know was why.

“Nothing from your sister?”

A thick silence fell upon the room, one completely dissimilar from the silence Sanji had enjoyed the night before. That silence had been sweet and lithe, whereas this one was sour and heavy.

“No.”

“Huh… you’d think she’d want to at least write you…”

“Every letter she writes to me is dangerous, and you know this,” Sanji snapped. Zeff held up his hands in defeat—ever since the brat came clean about his origins, the topic was something of a sore point.

“She’s the only one of them worth anything, even if it’s not much in the end,” he defended. “Besides, I thought you’d read the papers.”

“If an article has the word Germa, I avoid it.”

“Then I’ll just let you figure it out on your own,” Zeff grunted. “Don’t come crying to me that I didn’t try.”

“You’re a sentimental old fool and it’s going to be the death of you,” Sanji warned. He shoved the rest of his fried rice in his mouth and scowled. “Do you have any requests for lunch?”

“Nothing too salty—feels like my arteries are hardening so fast it’s as though you’re trying to off me early.”

“You fucking wish.”

Once their breakfast was done and Zeff was set up with a book and a radio-snail, Sanji went back down into the depths of the ship to where the restaurant was really starting to hum with life. Varying chefs, waitstaff, and kitchen help were laughing and joking, eating breakfast, rolling silverware in napkins, bracing themselves for the day ahead. He deposited his tray and bowls in their appropriate spots, tied his hair back, and pulled on his apron—it was time to get going.

The Baratie kept busy all day long, with there being several wait-times for seating at varying points throughout the day. Fuck, Sanji knew he thrived on such days, putting out dish after dish with such precision and class that it would have been eerie in another establishment. Except there, at the world’s premiere floating restaurant, it was the standard. He even heard there were some in the crowd who were there specifically because they heard he was back from his travels, eager to get a taste of the world of culinary experience he had obtained.

“Don’t let it get to your head, you piece of shit,” Patty grimaced at the very idea. “Cook for one king and suddenly the kid gets uppity.”

“If we’re talking about kings in general, I’ve cooked for several, more if you make it just nobility,” Sanji fired back, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. Patty was tempted to throw the remnants of his tempura batter at him, but luckily remembered that the shitty sous could safely light himself on fire—not entirely the brightest plan.

…and so, the dinner hours came to a close and Sanji once again found himself sitting in the office huddled over Zeff’s papers. He knew everything balanced… somehow… but he needed to get a hold of how before they made their next dry goods run, and not even his royal education prepared him for whatever piratical bookkeeping he was currently faced with. He couldn’t even ask the geezer, or else risk him foregoing his bed rest in order to forcibly take back his restaurant, saying he knew his stupid little eggplant was still too young to take over…

Shit… he needed another cigarette; trying to frontload before heading into the office hadn’t worked as well as he’d hoped. He grabbed for the pack of smokes in his shirt pocket, only for Chopper’s disdainful pout to appear in front of him instead. The little doctor had long been after him to stop, to at least cut back as a meaningful step, and he tried thinking of other things he could occupy himself with. Baking? No—they had enough leftover from the day’s wares that would taste better after a night’s rest, and the fresh breads were all to be baked in the morning. Nothing needed cleaning nor fixing, as his current staff was very on top of all those sorts of things. Maybe a walk…?

Yeah, a walk around the ship’s outer deck might do him some good.

Not caring that he still had an apron tied around him or his hair pulled back, Sanji went out onto the front deck and sat crosslegged at the edge. It was the same calm, gentle silence from the night before, washing over him in an effort to ease his mind. There was no one else out there, allowing him to sit and relax, leaning back with his palms against the warm wood of the deck…

…at least, there did not seem like anyone else was out there, with exception of a tiny pinprick of Haki. Soon as he noticed it, Sanji took a quick note of the staff’s quarters—nothing was terribly out of the ordinary, and everyone was accounted for, meaning it wasn’t one of them trying to play a trick on him. He stood and walked over to the outer restaurant wall, pressing himself against it so he could see if he could catch sight of the lurking Haki source before they saw him. Whomever they were, they were very inexperienced to let themselves broadcast like that, and he was ready to (quietly, mind) kick the bastard out into the open ocean if they were caught and didn’t vomit out a legitimate excuse within fifteen seconds.

Easing himself around the corner, Sanji saw that the beat-up crate he and other smokestacks usually sat on for their breaks had been moved slightly. Ah-ha… there was the culprit. He crept closer to the crate, suppressing his own Haki to make sure it was a genuine sneak attack.

Except, sitting there on the other side of the crate, sleeping curled up in a pile of blankets, was a small child. It seemed not much older than five or six, though considering he didn’t have much experience with children, he would not have made a bet on it. Next to the child was a small bag, and inside was a rather plain collection of clothes, enough for a couple days. An envelope addressed to him sat at the very top, however, the sight of which made his blood run cold.

His sister’s handwriting.

“Fuck,” he muttered lowly. He placed the letter back in the bag and slid the straps over his arm as he gathered the sleepy bundle. Moving slowly and silently, he carefully carted the kid back inside. He put him down on the bench of a booth in the dining room; only then did he open the letter and read its contents, his face growing paler with each sentence.

‘My dearest Sanji,’ it read.

‘I need you to do me a favor—please take Asido for a while. No one else knows about him. His Lineage Factor is unaltered by Father’s hands, at least not any further than what I naturally passed on. I know you’ve seen news of my engagement in the papers—his existence would be cause for war. A break of the engagement I can handle (and would not even mind), but war is an entirely different story. Besides, I cannot bring him into the life we had as children, for once Father is gone, our brothers will take his place. I thought I could shield him until I can figure out how to run as you did… but… it is far too risky.

‘When I saw intel that you had returned to the Baratie, I was overjoyed since I know that means you finally found the All Blue. I knew you could do it. Don’t let anyone make you give up the location until you’re ready. Now that you are back at the Baratie for good, they are going to stop trailing you. The Baratie is now the prefect safehouse—stable and minor enough to not need investigation, with the threat of your presence keeping Father from becoming too curious otherwise. He can be out of sight right under their noses.

‘I am so sorry, and I will be in contact soon as I can.

‘Love,

‘Reiju’

Sanji sat there for a moment, letting all the information wash over him, both what was written and what was horrifically implied. His sister had a child out of wedlock, which wasn’t that big of a deal if the parents weren’t royalty, but not only was she still very much royal, but she was also, apparently, one half of the most high-profile wedding of the year, if it had made the papers. None of that even touched the fact she had kept the child a secret for years, avoiding four of the biggest bastards-in-the-attitude-sense either of them had ever known, and was now at an impasse.

His biggest question was, however, glaring to the chef: where the fuck was the father?

Well, obviously, not in the picture, since she wrote that no one else knew about the kid, but he thought this could be a potentially crucial point where the sperm donor learned he was victorious at the whole reproduction thing and take some fucking responsibility…

“Huh… Mom…?”

Sanji looked up and saw that the kid was now awake. One hand clutched the blanket around him while the other rubbed at his hooded purple eyes. His hair was shaggy and brown, just long enough to start hiding the fact his eyebrows curled slightly at the same end his did. The boy stared at Sanji, the already-quiet restaurant growing silent.

“You’re my uncle,” the child observed, the North heavy on his voice. He pointed at his own eyebrow, as though it was evidence. “Where’s Mom?”

“I was hoping you could tell me,” Sanji said. He watched as the child pulled his knees up and wrapped himself entirely in the blanket, the only bit of him visible being his face. “Did you know you were coming here?”

“…no.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Mom said we were going on a trip. It was pretty fun, but…” The boy chewed on his lip and shivered. “I don’t remember how I got here.”

“I found you sleeping out on the deck,” Sanji explained. The boy began to sniffle, breaking his uncle’s heart. “Hey, don’t do that. You’re okay.”

“Where’s Mom…?”

“I don’t know—her note didn’t say,” he only half-lied. “You’re gonna stay with me until we know what’s going on. If I know my sister, she’s not going to leave you alone for long, nor would she leave you alone with just anyone.” The boy nodded, though his wet eyes suggested he was far from fine. “Asido?”

“Yeah…?”

“You hungry?” Another nod. “Right; let’s have Uncle Sanji get you something to eat.” Sanji stood and picked up the bag, holding out his other hand towards his nephew. Asido shuffled out from the booth and took his hand, allowing himself to be led to the back kitchen. Fuck—he was built the same as him, all limbs and angles that he’d yet to grow into or know what to do with. As the kitchen doors gently gave way, the boy’s eyes grew wide at the sight, making the adult chuckle.

Before long, the blanket-clad Asido was sitting at the small break table with a plate of omurice and a glass of milk. He poked at the food with his fork, looking at Sanji warily.

“What’s wrong?”

“Are… are you gonna get in trouble?”

“I’m the one who yells at troublemakers in this dump,” Sanji chuckled. “Now eat up—we do our best to not waste food here.”

The boy nodded and shoved a forkful of rice into his mouth. Once he chewed and swallowed, his eyes brightened and he began eating fast as he could, saving the milk to be guzzled down last. He looked up at Sanji in wonder.

“Can you teach me that?!” he gasped.

“Cooking? Maybe in a few years, if your mom says it’s okay.” Sanji watched as Asido’s face then fell—oh, yeah, that was right. Fucking hell, Reiju. “Well, how about we clean up and get you to bed, alright? It’s gonna be an interesting day tomorrow.”

Asido nodded and allowed his uncle to help him down from the chair. He stood patiently as he watched the dishes get quickly washed and set to dry, allowing the man to pick him up and carry him up the stairs. The boy was asleep by the time his uncle was placing him down on the couch, a worried expression on the adult’s face.

What in the hell was he going to do?

#Sanji #One Piece Sanji #Red Leg Zeff #Aka Ashi no Zeff #Blackleg Sanji #Kuroashi Sanji #One Piece #fan fiction #I swear I have Whouffaldi for tomorrow lol #I just want this out NOW you know #I have a weakness and it's characters with chips on their shoulders falling in love and/or raising kids #*chefs kiss*#Asido (OC)

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