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kingofinsight · 3 months ago

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The 1969 Easter Mass Incident

Content Warnings: Religion, food, symbolic cannibalism, symbolic gore, penis mention, Blasphemy, SO MUCH BLASPHEMY, weapons, war mention. Mind the warnings and your health always comes first. Its a HILARIOUS story, I promise.

As always, all the names have been changed to protect people’s identities. This is a long one, so Press J now if you want to skip it.

When my dad was a young man and still a practicing catholic, he participated in a small church communion that nearly got him and six other people excommunicated.

Father Patrick ran a small church outside of California Polytechnical and tended to be… rather more liberal in his interpretations of scripture than most of the church was, which made him something of a hit with the local students and liberally-inclined populace. Pat went to all manner of civil demonstrations, condemned the shit out of the vietnam war and the politics that lead to it and so on. In January of 1969 a series of incidents lead him to start exploring “nontraditional” means of holding Mass as a means of reaching out to his community and exploring his own faith, which ultimately culminated in the 1969 Easter Mass Incident.

For those of you who weren’t raised catholic, Communion is this ritual where you become one with Jesus by eating a really horrible bland wafer cookie and taking a shot of wine (called hosts), which then *literally* become the flesh and blood of jesus in your mouth, allowing him to become one with you. It’s big McFucking deal, and you have the opportunity to take communion at every mass. All this had to be explained to me second-hand because after this and Dad’s 51 days in the army, Dad decided he wouldn’t inflict religion on any children he might have in the future.

“Hey dad,” Six-year old me asked the first time he told me this story after my practicing friends were talking about getting wine at church. “Isn’t that cannibalism?”

“We’re getting to that.” He waved.

The First Incident in January when, due to a serious cock-up by the church, all the hosts Father Pat received were moldering and spoiled and probably would have killed someone if he’d actually fed anyone them. But it was the first mass of the year, when a peak number of people came in after vowing to got to church more for new year’s. He couldn’t NOT have communion.

“I’ll bake.” offered Maria, the parish secretary and probably the best baker in the county. “So we have hosts. Jesus will understand.”

Father Patrick, not one to pass up the chance at Maria’s cooking, immediately agreed.

A Host is supposed to be composed solely of unleavened wheat flour and water, which is why they taste terrible. It’s a theological point of some importance relating to Exodus or something but Maria had an important theological counterpoint: Jesus both divine and loves all his children, ergo, Jesus would neither be a nasty bland cracker nor want his children to suffer as such and so instead, she made Mexican wedding cookies.

They were a SPECTACULAR hit. Many praises were heaped upon father patrick for the Much Better Wafers and that they’d be sure to show up next week as long as Maria kept making them. Father Patrick figuring that hey, anything that gets people in the doors is good and really, if it was turning into Jesus once inside the parishioner, did it really matter what the wafers were made of? So he continued to let Maria bake the Hosts, and encouraged her to try out new flavors, like nutmeg and cinnamon.

This went on swimmingly for a few weeks until The Bishop showed up for a surprise visit the same week Maria decided to experiment with rainbow sprinkles.

Dad remembers hearing the bishop through the windows roaring “THE HOLY BODY OF CHRIST DOES! NOT! CONTAIN! RAINBOW! SPRINKLES!”

The matter went clean up to The Archbishop, who decided that while Pat was probably right to not feed spoiled hosts to his parish, he should attend some remedial classes to remember what Communion was all about, so that if it happened again, he’s come up with a more suitable substitute.

Father Patrick returned in late March, full of spite and some fascinating new ideas.

“Is this where the Cannibalism happens?” Six-year-old me asked, eager to get to the good parts.

At his remedial classes, the teacher had stressed the importance of transubstantiation, aka “That bit where the wafer and wine, Actually, Literally, become the flesh of Jesus Christ and we expect you to swallow.” Also on the syllabus was understanding the importance of Christ’s suffering and sacrifice.

“So, I was thinking about Easter Service.” Said father Patrick one afternoon while dad was doing his computer science homework at the church because his dorm was a barely-standing fire hazard and the library was where you went to have sex.

“Well, we do re-enactments for christmas. Why not on easter? Why not re-enact the crucifixion of Christ right here? Make it real for everyone. Trauma’s great for bonding a community together.”

“Who’s playing Jesus?” asked Maria, always one for a good laugh.

“That’s the thing- A Host, it doesn’t look much like flesh, right? Doesn’t look like much of anything, really. Not great for reinforcing one’s belief.

What if, instead, we- and I mean you, Maria, I can’t cook to save my life- make a man-sized loaf of bread, maybe in the shape of a T, and we have some of the boys dress up as romans and whip the bread and we pour the wine on so it’s bleeding and them- then we make a big wooden cross and actually nail the bread to it with, I don’t know, railroad spikes, more wine all over. And we raise the cross, all while telling the story of the crucifixion.”

He paused to take a drink, Maria slowly crumpling onto the floor in horrified laughter and Dad now thoroughly distracted from his homework.

“Then we lower the cross, and invite everyone who wants to take communion up to tear a hunk of Jesus off. Just descend into his corpse like vultures. I think that’d really be a good bonding experience for the church.” he nodded thoughtfully. “The hard, part, I suppose, will be finding enough romans.”

“I WANNA BE LONGINUS.” bellowed my father, barreling into the room.

And so, the plan was hatched. Dad hit up every other guy in the Church and eventually rounded up four more romans, three of them from the Education Department of Cal Poly, and one guy from Chemistry, who just liked to watch things burn.

This, being a play, naturally meant that there was a rehearsal, and test Bread jesus. Maria had decided that if they were going to start being extra-literal, she needed to make the most lifelike Bread jesus possible, and made a distressingly buff and human-proportioned Jesus by Advanced bread-braiding, complete with plaited hair, quail’s-egg-and-raisin eyes, bready muscle groups, and an eight-pack because why not make the lord completely shredded?* She also made the important theological decision that since Jesus loves everyone and was happy to die in spite of all his suffering, he should be smiling, and had a toothy corn-kernel smile. He was Wonderful and Terrifying all at once.

“Maria,” asked Father Patrick after a few minutes of delighted and horrified cooing over Jesus’ toothy grin and abdominals. “Why is he wearing a tea-towel?

“Well, he’s the Son of God. A Man. With all that entails.” She said, pointedly staring at Father Patrick while everyone stared at the suspiciously lumpy tea-towel. “And he might have… burnt, slightly.”

Everyone nodded and agreed that the tea-towel was the best course of action. The rehearsal goes splendidly and everyone agrees that this is the most delicious Jesus they’ve ever had.

Easter Sunday arrives and the Church is PACKED, from the more lapsed Catholics showing up for a high holiday, parents visiting for spring break and a whole horde of newcomers who had gotten wind that something was up and they ought to come.

Dad is a lanky as hell 21-year old composed mostly of technical jargon and acne but he is STOKED to be playing Longinus, the roman that speared Jesus on the cross, because he gets to do the BEST technical effect in the whole parade. Since he came in at the end me missed a good portion of the sermon, but did hear the “oooh” from the crowd as the massive cross was dragged in by the other Romans, followed by horrified gasps and high screams and a discernible “What the FUCK” as they brought in Bread Jesus 2.0, whipping him enthusiastically, and hammering him into the cross, the sound of wine splashing onto the floor loud in the terrified silence of that Parishioners.

Finally Father Patrick gets to the part about Longinus, and Dad comes sprinting down the aisle as hard as he can, because in order for Bread Jesus to be seen by everyone, his middle had to be about 10 feet off the ground, so Dad had to run, shrieking latin curses, down the length of the church, with a big honking spear and take a flying leap at Jesus in order to spear him in the gut.

Please take moment to imagine you are some normal god-fearing catholic who has decided to visit little bobby or maybe patricia at college and you’re all going to church together like a nice family and this Fucking madman has decided to go all Silence of the Lambs on mass and now there’s some sort of underfed translucently pale man in ill-fitting Roman armor and cape flying at a horrifying glutinous effigy of your lord and savior, with an actual fucking spear, screaming like a madman. Don’t you feel yourself drawing closer to God already? Defensively, perhaps, like an octopus trying to ooze itself into a crevice against the horrors of the ocean.

However, two things happen that were not planned on

1. Dad misses. In his defense, Bread Jesus is close to but not quite the size of a man- more like the size of a doughy teenager, and his middle is a small target 10 feet up in the air and dad is has a computer science minor, not an athletics scholarship. He misses by about 8 inches and instead very solidly stabs Bread Jesus right through the groin, leaving a big hole in Maria’s tea-towel and the spear jutting out at a decidedly… attentive angle, as Bread Jesus’s Bread Dick drops to the floor with a splat. Nobody notices this, however because

2. In rehearsal, Dad had managed to get the spear right in jesus’s navel but neither Father Patrick nor the other romans could get the wine up there to make his middle appropriately bloodied.

Maria come up with the Genius solution that since wine is made of grapes and Jam is made of grapes, she could make a jelly-filled Jesus for Dad to stab. There was a normal-sized test loaf and when dad stabbed it on the table, it had a nicely gooey dribbling effect.

However, this time the loaf was torso-sized, still hot from the oven and upright, so when dad speared the very end of the loaf, all the steam-pressured jam had collected at the bottom and a spray of lukewarm smuckers exploded out from bread jesus, turning the first three pews into a splash zone of symbolic entrails.

There was a hot, sticky minute of complete silence in the church after that.

Then, Father Patrick indicated it was time for the cross to be lowered, and continued on with the normal preparations of the Host, he himself covered in hot smuckers, as though nothing particularly ordinary was occuring, quietly kicking the bread-dick under the altar. At the end of it all, Father Patrick and invited everyone up with the Last Oration:

“Thou, O God, has kindly allowed us to have a part in this Holy Sacrifice; for this we give Thee thanks. Accept it now to Thy glory and be ever mindful of our weakness. Amen.”

…And everybody came up, shuffling like terrified zombies, pinching off tiny bits at first but then the madness took them and they began tearing apart bread jesus by the handful, weeping as they partook, scattered prayers and begging for forgiveness. The whole congregation was kneeling about the altar, tearful and united in their guilt and their need for God.

“IS CHURCH ALWAYS LIKE THAT?” six-year-old me asked, absolutely stoked. I’d convert on the spot if I got a show like that.

“No, it’s normally bland wafers and lots of chanting in latin.”

“Well that’s boring as hell.” I remember muttering and Dad snorting the coffee he was drinking out of his nose.

As people filed silently out of the Church to a gloriously sunny California afternoon, faces wan and smeared with wine and jam, Father patrick turned to Maria and asked “You don’t think that was too much, do you?”

“No.” Said Maria with a sarcastic deadpan so intense it was hard to tell from sincerity.

It was the exact same tone she used when the Archbishop and Six other high clergy showed up, clutching a letter someone had written, Livid and almost foaming at the mouth, demanding to know if such blasphemy had transpired.

“No. That’s crazy.” She said, staring down the archbishop like he was an idiot.

“Such imaginations some people have!” Said Father Patrick, much less convincingly.

“And you- you didn’t… Spear an effigy of our lord and savior?” the archbishop demanded of my father.

“Do I look like I can jump that high?” Dad asked, having in the interim been drafted for 51 days then nearly died of pneumonia from it, and therefore no longer afraid of the Church, the Law or God.

Somewhat relieved that he’d only received the extremely detailed ramblings of a doddering parishioner, the Archbishop sat down and complemented Maria on her most excellent Mexican Wedding Cookies, may he please have another plate for his nerves? Perhaps the ones with sprinkles?

Dad went on to help build the internet, Father Patrick converted to Buddhism and Maria became a Nun.

*For those of you wondering, Jesus was made of Challah.

If you got a laugh out of this, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi or subscribe on Patreon, Thank you very much and I hope you enjoyed it!

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kingofinsight · 11 months ago

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comma flirting

on ao3

word count: 4.4k

a collection of letters between link and ravio; ravioli falling in love

Mr. Hero,

I’m writing to inform you that your rental on the Sand Rod has expired. My assistant, Sheerow, has come to collect this item, and it will be available for re-rental at 50 rupees.

Best,

Ravio

Ravio,

I’m in the middle of assfuck Desert Palace and writing this on your envelope. Enclosed is a purple rupee. I have the rod.

Link

Mr. Hero,

Sheerow is coming again to pick up my Hookshot. Please don’t wrestle with him this time.

Best,

Ravio

P.S. Please visit the shop for purchases you make.

Ravio,

I’ll be there tomorrow.

Link

Mr. Hero,

Don’t worry when you open this letter - no rentals are due - though I’m sure you will anyway. I’ve been meaning to ask this since they’ve been in season for a while, but you haven’t been around recently. Is it alright if I harvest your apples while you’re out? You can trust me not to sell them, heh.

Thanks,

Ravio

Ravio,

Go for it, I won’t be home anytime soon. Juicer’s in the basement. Sell them and I’ll kick you out.

Link

Mr. Hero,

Since my retirement, I’ve been moving away my tables and letting the actual house part of your house take over. I’m excited for you to see the place!

Your orchard produced beautiful apples, but there’s so many I’m not sure what to do with them. I’ve never seen so much fruit in my life! I’ve learned some baking recipes from the locals, so I’ve been trying a few of those. Let me know when you’re heading home soon so I can make pie!

Stay safe.

Ravio

Rav,

I’m fine; that gash from last month is just a scar now. I’m as safe as possible. I’m going home next week to pay you for that red potion even though you refuse.

Link

Link,

Don’t pay me back for that red potion. You were unconscious from blood loss.

Do come back home though, before Sheerow gets into the pie.

Ravio

Ravio,

I’m on my way right now. Note the purple rupee in this envelope.

Link

Mr. Hero,

You’re insufferable. I’ll see you soon.

Best,

Ravio

Ravio,

I’m writing this in case your stupid bird manages to find a portal before I do. Hylia knows he will. I miss your apple pie.

I hope Lorule’s doing okay. I hope your Triforce is actually back. It’s finicky. The Goddesses don’t like to fully honor wishes I wonder if you hold Courage.

I’m sorry. This is stupid. This is a stupid letter. You’re never getting this.

Link

I changed my mind I need to keep writing before I go insane

Zelda wants me to move into the castle. I don’t want to but every time I try to bring that up I feel like there’s sand in my throat. Like that one time at the Desert Palace. I still have that letter from you. I can’t believe I always wrote on the envelopes.

She’s officially queen now and says I should retire from being Hero and reveal my princehood to the public. Fuck, I never admitted that to anyone. It’s not like you’ll see this letter. Are you Hilda’s brother too? Nevermind.

I really, really hate the castle. Is that a selfish thing to think?

My uncle died there

I’m running out of parchment so I’m throwing this away. Goodnight, Ravio.

Ravio,

I guess you’ve become my diary now. Writing things out helps, I think.

Zelda and I fought today. I think I pissed her off. Who am I kidding. I pissed her off. I told her I’m already figurehead enough as the Hero and being a prince is too much shit for me to handle. She got real butthurt and almost sad? I don’t know. I’m bad at this shit. She kicked me out of the castle and said we could talk about it later. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.

I never actually told you about the brother thing, did I? We found out a while ago. My first adventure, I think. Been a while.

I know Lorule needs its Triforce but please don’t rely on it to solve everything because it doesn’t.

I need to get a notebook or something. Or just suck it up and buy more parchment in Kakariko. I’m harvesting more apples tomorrow because it helps me not to think. I miss your apple pie. I miss you. I miss not being alone in that house.

Maybe I’ll just write more letters. Oh well. Goodnight.

Link

Ravio,

Kakariko was out of parchment for a while so it’s been a month since I’ve written things down. Zelda and I worked out the prince thing, I guess, because we didn’t discuss it any more after that day. As it stands, I’m still the asshole who saved the country more than enough times.

I’ve been reading up on these legends about Heroes. I wonder how it was like for them.

Other than that it’s been boring. I decided to juice half the apples and sell the rest. You better show up soon so I don’t have to sell the next crop.

Zelda says there’s a disturbance by the Sacred Realm entrance. Almost like there’s a crack between worlds there. By the Goddesses, Ravio, what are you and Hilda doing? Just don’t be stupid and don’t get yourself killed.

Please.

Link

Link,

I can only imagine your embarrassment when this letter reaches you. The thought makes me giggle, which I know will make you more embarrassed, which makes me giggle more.

Sheerow flew through the crack as soon as Hilda and I opened it. He arrived back to me a few hours later with three envelopes that I don’t think you intended to send.

I miss making pie, and baking in general. Retirement didn’t last long after I returned home to my post serving Hilda. I hold Wisdom, not Courage, and the Triforce is doing wonders for Lorule. I’m sorry it hasn’t treated you well. You deserve better than that. I’m sorry about your uncle, too.

I’m proud you stood up for yourself. No, I’m not blood related to Hilda, as far as either of us know. But you’ve been living life fine without being a prince, you’ll continue to live fine without it. Just stay safe in your Hero business. And for the other Heroes, I don’t know. Lorule has no Heroes, other than you. I’m sure it wasn’t easy for them, though.

I’m sending Sheerow back with this letter before I officially leave Lorule with Hilda. We’ll both be in the castle. I’m sure Zelda has discovered the crack, but if you may, please tell her we’ll arriving with Lorulean soldiers and nobility. I’ll visit you as soon as possible. I miss you too.

Sincerely,

Ravio

Ravio, you bastard,

I will be at Hyrule Castle at the asscrack of dawn and if you aren’t there I will fight you.

Link

Dearest Link,

This letter hopefully won’t arrive to you via Sheerow as I’m leaving it in your pack. Inside is food, weapons, the rings you asked for, and other items that you needed. Thank Lolia your bag has an expansion charm, because even my amazing packing skills wouldn’t have cut it. For the love of the three, stay safe out there. It’s been months since you’ve last been on a journey.

As Lorule’s ambassador, I’ll be at the castle most days, but I’ll take care of the house and continue baking. Zelda has been teaching me recipes from the castle kitchens, and they’re quite lovely!

Also as Lorule’s ambassador, I request you send reports on the happenings in Hytopia so that we may bring sufficient aid. As Ravio, I need to know if you’re safe; you know how much I fret.

Please write.

Sincerely,

Ravio

Dear Ravio,

You’re the craziest worrywart I’ve met, and Queen Zelda is my sister. I’m happy to supply reports, both of Hytopia and my own health, but I promise you that I’m fine. This is either my sixth or seventh adventure. I genuinely lost count.

As the Hero of Legend, I report that Hytopia is suffering from a “fashion crisis”. The two others operating with me are sufficient in their help, and I am currently confident in our quest to save Princess Styla. I estimate six months, maximum, will be spent on this journey. I will reach out if foreign aid is needed.

As Link, I need you to know with utmost honesty that this place is fucking crazy. There are two bitches following me anywhere, and by the Goddesses are they amateurs, claiming to be the Hero of Legend. I’m so tired of them. The princess is crying and hiding around town because she’s wearing a fucking brown jumpsuit and she can’t take it off. I feel like I’m slowly losing my sanity as each day passes, but what else is new?

The fights are fine and easy. I’ve had to wear a skirt for the past week for complicated reasons, but I’ve found that this shit is actually practical. Who would’ve thought?

Write me back so I don’t go insane.

Link

Dearest Link,

I cannot deny that I’ve had to read your letter multiple times over to get through it without laughing. You never fail to take any boredom from my day, even when all I do is talk to nobility and worm my way through politics.

I’m not sure what to write about. I’ve tried apple turnovers for the first time, but they haven’t come out the best. I’m spending time with the castle’s baker and pastry chef whenever I can. I’m sure you’ll be happy once you’re home. Speaking of home, Sheerow’s starting to relieve himself in the house again. I don’t think he likes the bird cage, but I haven’t had time to fix this problem yet. Please give me your blessing to let him fly free again.

Stay sane,

Ravio

Dear Ravio,

Make that bird promise to stop shitting on my carpet and you have a deal.

I’ve had to wear more green in the past month than I’ve ever had to in my life - they made me dye my hair, for Goddess sakes - and I’m ready to never see that color again. Can you burn down the forest for me so the grass is brown? Don’t do that, Zelda will have our heads.

Apple turnovers aren’t too hard, I’m sure you’ll get it soon. Send one over if Sheerow can fly fast enough.

I’ll be home before year’s end.

Link

Dearest Link,

You’ll be pleased to hear that the forest is gone and we’ve both been banished to the Dark World.

I’m kidding. I’ve been discussing with Zelda on the prospect of me gaining Hyruleian citizenship, and Hilda says she requests you receive Loruleian citizenship as well, seeing as you’re our Hero. The process for both is very complicated and apparently the Queens can’t just write us down for both without backlash from nobility, enough that it won’t be worth it. I’ve been looking for the easiest ways, and including the benefits on tax, marriage ironically comes up. I’ll keep searching.

I got the turnover recipe down; Sheerow should be arriving with a package of them for you and your “hero” friends. Enjoy!

I’m glad you’ll be home soon, even though it’s only summer. Stay safe out there, as always.

Sincerely,

Ravio

Dear Ravio,

I don’t know Hyrulean law well but I think you can keep citizenship after divorce. I don’t know about you, but I personally don’t give a shit. We could marry for the benefits and if either of us sorry fucks finds someone, we divorce.

Link

P.S. Those were the best turnovers I’ve had in my life. Keep making them.

Dearest Link,

It’s a decade of marriage before citizenship becomes unconditional, so if you’re fine with that, I don’t mind either. I’m glad you liked the turnovers, I’ll send more once the orchard produces more apples. Also, how are you doing in Hytopia?

Sincerely,

Ravio

Dear Ravio,

I’ll be dead within the decade, so fuck it, let’s do it. I’m leaving a ring in the envelope. For my ego, please pretend like this is the best damn proposal you could have ever dreamed of.

Hytopia is doing well and Princess Styla is back to normal. I’m avoiding the ports and taking the scenic way home, so I’ll be back in two weeks.

Link

Dearest Link,

Don’t joke about that, please. I’m glad you’re on your way. I’ll see you soon.

Your proposal has had me swooning and I spent three days in recovery at the castle. On a real note, Zelda and Hilda are both confused and slightly furious at us. I believe we simply found a unique situation to this problem.

Sincerely,

Ravio

Rav,

I’m at Kakariko this morning to pick up bread. I didn’t want to wake you up. I should be back by noon.

Link

Link -

Emergency call from the castle, some monster invasion. I’m sure you’ll hear about it soon.

- Ravio

My Ravio,

Killing the monsters you had a meeting about yesterday, then Zelda wants me at the castle for wedding stuff. I’ll see you tonight.

Link

I have a dinner tonight so I’ll be gone when you get off work. Pie is in the oven for you. “My”?

- Ravio

We’re getting married, aren’t we?

Link

Link and Ravio,

I wish you the sincerest congratulations on your marriage, though the circumstances of it are definitely exploiting a loophole that I’d have half a mind to fix. Regardless, may you both be blessed with peaceful and long lives. My brother, I am so proud of you for how far you’ve come. My brother-in-law, you are an amazing friend, and I’m excited to be family with you.

Peace and prosperity for you both!

Sincerely,

Zelda

Ravio and Link,

I am amazed that this is happening, for multiple reasons. I suppose it is my fault for being surprised, however, knowing my advisor. Hero of Hyrule, I request you take care of Ravio; Ravio, I request you take care of Link. Perhaps your personalities are only compatible with each other after all.

Best wishes for you both,

Hilda

Link,

It’s been a week with no word from you, and I’m beginning to worry. I’m sending Sheerow off with this letter but I’m unsure if it’ll reach you, so if it does, I can only beg you to write back. These new monsters, the black-blooded ones, have been retreating some. Zelda is recruiting small forces of people to make them back off from towns, and it’s worked so far. We are all worried about you. Zelda and Hilda have been asking me where you are, and I don’t know how to explain that I don’t know.

I can only assume you’ve ended up in one of those portals they’ve emerged from. Your pack is missing, as well as some of your rings, armors, and gears. You left your extra pair of boots behind, I have them for you. I have your extra weapons, too. Please come back for them. Please come back.

I miss you. I hope you’re okay. Sheerow is pissing on the carpet again.

Yours,

Ravio

Dearest Ravio,

Time travel is fucking weird, so I have no idea when this’ll reach you. I’m fine. I’ve been pulled into another adventure, this time with my own kin. When the portals spit us out back home, I’ll sit down and have a long talk with you. We promised not to keep secrets from each other, remember? I trust you, but I have limited parchment so I can’t write it all down right now.

In summary, though, I’m with other Links from around history. I met my fucking descendant. It’s crazy. They call me Legend; there’s 9 of us. I’m the veteran, apparently.

I’m sorry this is short. I hope I’ll be home soon. I miss you. Tell Sheerow to stop shitting himself, and while you’re at it, tell Zelda to stop shitting herself too. I’ll be okay.

Yours,

Link

My dearest Link,

I’m relieved you’re alright. Zelda laughed when I passed on your message, and she’s in a better mood now. Hilda also seems relieved. I’m awaiting your coming home soon.

Your descendant? I expected those portals led to different dimensions, not across time. What is he like? I would consider you a veteran in your field, Link; you’ve saved more than 5 separate nations.

I made Sheerow promise not to piss on the carpet anymore, but I don’t think a bird will hold his word well, haha.

We all miss you. If When you and your traveling companions come by, I’ll be here to welcome you all. I’ll see you soon.

Yours,

Ravio

Dearest Ravio,

Stop worrying about me, damnit. The Goddess will keep me around long enough to keep running errands for her. Sheerow, you stupid bird, it’s cage for you if you don’t shit outside. I’m glad Zelda and Hilda are okay.

We call him Hyrule, the Traveler. He’s some centuries down the line, the next Link, and I’ve been to his world. It makes me worry about the future. Rav, I’m really, really worried. I don’t think I’ve done enough

Stay safe.

Yours,

Link

My Link,

You’ve done enough. More than enough. Never forget that.

If Hyrule falls, then at the very least, you defended it with all your life. You gave it precious time to be prosperous. You’re the Hero of Legend for a reason, Link.

Zelda wanted to include her own message on this letter when she heard that you’re distraught, so I’m leaving the rest of the space to her. Stay safe.

Yours,

Ravio

Link -

Hyrule’s history consists of both golden and dark ages. The Heroes of past all fought hard and performed their duty, and sometimes, the Kingdom falls regardless. However. Hyrule always rises again. I understand your worry for us, for Hyrule; but even when we fall in the future, a new Hero arises, right? Hyrule will be okay. You’ve done everything asked of you, and that is more than enough.

My doors are open if you need comfort or advice. Please, if you need to, seek me out. I’m here for you, like I’ve always been, always remember that.

Your sister,

Zelda

Dearest Ravio,

I’m sorry I worried you. I’ll be home soon. I’ll tell you everything then.

We’re in my Hyrule right now. I can tell from the magic, but we’re far out from the kingdom. Prepare ingredients for 9 - we have a cook, don’t worry - and expect me home within week’s end.

Yours,

Link

P.S. Zelda, we need to talk. There’s a curse. I’ll be at the castle promptly.

My dearest Link,

Please note the package attached to this letter. There’s two apple pies for you all, rupees for the Smith’s payment, and the Captain’s scarf which he couldn’t grab before you were all whisked away. Zelda has also left rings with protective charms for the others with none.

One more thing. The hibiscus plant is flowering, but I forgot to pick one for you earlier. I placed a stasis charm on it, so I hope it’ll be okay when it reaches you. I tried to pick the best color from your description; I hope I did her justice.

Best wishes for you all!

Yours,

Ravio

Dearest Ravio,

The hibiscus is perfect. Thank you.

The Captain thanks you for his scarf (he was whining like a toddler without it), and the Smithy sends you back your change. Pass on my thanks to Zelda for the rings. Your pies are delicious, as always.

Nothing much has happened lately, nothing worth writing about. We’re in the Champion’s Hyrule, and it’s so large that I feel grateful for the distance between our Kingdoms now. I never want to walk again.

Yours,

Link

My dearest Link,

I, once again, am entirely unsure if this will reach you. I’m writing from my bunk. It’s been an interesting past week.

I’ve been thrust through a portal of my own, thankfully able to prepare first. I met the Captain again; I can see why he recognized me now! I’m doing okay, and I’m fine and safe. I’ve run into Wind, too, and a boy who almost looks like Time.

Link, I think I met her too. She matches everything you described, hibiscus and all. I don’t know how she’s here, either. She’s kind.

I’ll write as much as I can - it should be more exciting, now! - and I hope we’ll both be home safe soon.

Yours,

Ravio

My dearest Ravio,

Excuse me, you’re fighting in the fucking War of Eras!? Tell Warriors if he puts you on the front lines I’ll kill him. Slowly. By the Three, you better not get killed or hurt or ANYTHING along those lines. And you need to get home safe as soon as possible so the chance to is gone.

I don’t know what to say about her. I don’t know how she’s there, either, but be kind to her. And tell her I say hi, I guess, if she remembers me. Don’t let her go ba

Don’t open any time paradoxes, I know I’ll be the sorry fuck who saves you. Stay safe, damnit.

Yours,

Link

My dearest Link,

You never fail to make me laugh. And you call me a worrywart! I’m fine, don’t worry. Everyone is sweet and they take extra care to keep the ones from other times alive. Unfortunately, I think informing Mr. Captain Hero Sir of your threats would create a time paradox, as he doesn’t know you yet. Feel free to threaten him after-the-fact in your group, though!

Marin remembers you. She tells you to stop being a grump, and that’s only after my few descriptions of you! She also congratulated us on our marriage, though it’s been a year since. She appreciates the hibiscus plant and your pursuit of music when you’re home. She also says you should retire.

I understand why you care for her, Link. Really, you are a sweet person.

Yours,

Ravio

My dearest Ravio,

The Captain laughed in my face, because he’s an asshole. I would bet on my life that he’ll keep you safe, though; he’s captain for a reason. And maybe I do worry too much, but I have good reason to.

I’m glad she’s alive. This is selfish, but ask her if Koholint is doing okay, please. Tell her I’ll retire when the ladies upstairs let me.

I don’t know how to reply to your last line, Rav. But thank you, I guess. It’s hard to be kind in this world.

Yours,

Link

My dearest, Link,

I’m sorry I haven’t been able to write for a while. Sheerow went missing, and with no time traveling postbird, I haven’t been able to send letters. The war has also kept me busy and the paper has been scarce. I miss you so, so much.

I’m home. I don’t know how long it’s been for you, but it was around a year and a half for me. Sheerow is safe; he’s been at home this whole time. I’ll be waiting for you here again.

I like to think I discovered a bit of courage for myself while out there. Maybe the amount you rubbed off on me finally paid off, yeah? I’m really tired, I’m going to stay here for a while and rest. This is all over the place. I’m sorry.

Marin went back to Koholint. I don’t know if she’s alive there, but I’d like to hope she is. I’m sorry you two didn’t get to meet again. I’m apologizing a lot.

Have you been around? Our house looks the same as ever. I hope you did get to visit, at least for a little, in the time I’ve been gone.

I pray for your safety. I miss you, Link.

Yours,

Ravio

My dearest, Ravio,

I can’t put my relief into words. I’m still out, but nearing the end of this adventure. I can feel it coming to a close soon, and this one feels final. Maybe I’ll actually be able to retire.

I’ve missed you so much. I thought you were dead, or hurt, or Sheerow was dead or hurt, and I swear I couldn’t sleep for months. I’ll never let that damn bird out of our sights again. Please rest, Rav. I understand how you’re feeling right now. I’ll be home to help as soon as I can - you can’t recover from something like that alone.

Marin being alive or dead is more of a discussion if she is real or not real. I find that thinking over those kind of questions too much will only lead to feeling worse. It’s better to just accept that she’s gone. I’ll be there for you.

I’ve visited some, not as much as I wish I could. There’s never much time to relax, and our house feels wrong without you there.

Never apologize again, that’s a threat. I’m so glad you’re okay.

Yours,

Link

P.S. Did you think I wouldn’t notice you flirting with me? “My dearest, Link,”?

My dearest, Link,

Thank you. I’m harvesting apples from the orchard again, and I made pie for the first time in a while. Sheerow is carrying it over for you.

It’s been hard, this past week, but I think I’ll be okay. I just need time to re-adjust. Don’t rush your adventure for me, okay? I’m glad you’ll be home soon, though.

I’m looking forward to see you again.

Yours,

Ravio

P.S. I can’t help but notice that you also placed a comma after “dearest”. Besides, aren’t we married?

My dearest, Ravio,

The portals have begun to place us in our own times, and we’re having our final goodbyes. You’ll be happy to hear that I’ll be home within a fortnight. I’m excited to see you again, finally. I love your pie; it’s amazing, as always.

I’ll see you soon.

Yours,

Link

P.S. We are married, and we’ve signed off as “yours” for over a year. Are you surprised that you’re my beloved?

My dearest, Link,

Hurry up and get home, you flirt. First you propose over letters, now you confess?

Yours,

Ravio

My Ravio,

I’m in Hyrule, three days out from home. Don’t you forget that you initiated everything.

I can’t wait to see your face again. I love you.

Your husband,

Link

My Link,

I won’t bother to send you this letter, because I’ll tell you in person, but you can go ahead and find it on our counter when you arrive tomorrow.

You said “my Ravio” again, like you wrote on a note before our marriage. Don’t think you’re not as much to blame for this as I am.

I’m waiting for you, dear. I love you, too.

Your husband,

Ravio

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