oh hi it’s wip wednesday again
yo sorry its been four months since the last update A) i got a full time job, B) i fell into a different hyperfixation, though thanks to that last nintendo direct i think im falling back into my zelda hyperfixation which is pretty slay of me
n e ways please enjoy this snippet for the upcoming ‘stamp me with your signature’, sequel to ‘i’m your bitch, you’re my bitch’. no idea when im gonna finish this fic and post it but keep your eyes peeled, for now, happy wednesday
Later, Zelda buried herself in another memory. A memory of sleeplessness, of watching the white moon climb the sky outside her window. She let it play out, content to lay on her side with the moon in her eyes, hands pillowing her cheek.
“Why didn’t you do it?” a warm, dark voice asked.
Zelda didn’t flinch, didn’t startle, merely continued watching the moon. “Because that’s not who I am,” she’d replied.
“And who are you?”
“You should know,” Zelda quipped, refusing to roll over and face him. “You’ve been infiltrating my memories this whole time.”
“You’re a scared little girl.”
“Gee, thanks.” She rolled her eyes.
“A scared little girl that has somehow kept me at bay for seventy-six years.” The voice bit. “Will your silly hero ever wake up?”
Zelda snorted. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“You’re getting tired,” he mused. As if on cue, her body grew more exhausted, a weight on her frame pushing her down. “It’s how I’ve been able to speak to you like this.”
That gave her pause. Was her power truly waning? Was she reaching her breaking point? How long before her body gave out? Would Link still sleep soundly while her very essence was consumed by the Calamity?
Zelda shoved the thought away. “I liked you better when you were just some swirly tentacles trying to grope me every couple of years,” she sighed, pulling her bed covers closer around her.
She didn’t hear him approach, but felt the bed dip as he sat down on its edge. “And what might I be now?”
“A man.”
“Still, a man that could snap your neck,” he countered. “A man that could eat you whole and digest you into nothing but a memory. A man that could hold you captive as he tortures your pathetic hero into a weeping mess.”
Surprisingly, he said these with no real threat, a jovial sort of small talk - a hidden warning.
Zelda finally rolled onto her back. The man who greeted her was beautiful; warm Gerudo skin offset his flaming hair upon which was woven a headdress she’d seen many a time on her godmother. Below midnight blue eyelids, golden eyes sparkled. A strong Gerudo brow made his calculating smirk all the more sinister, and his strong jaw was highlighted by the short, neat cut of his scarlet beard. He was draped in gold, Gerudo finery clinking from his ears, clasping around his arms, baring his chest but covering his hips and thighs. He was strong, built well, built for war.
There were always tales that Ganon had been Gerudo. But these were simply scary bedtime stories passed down over twenty-thousand years. Laying eyes on him now, on the Gerudo warlord turned swirling Malefic entity, Zelda believed it.
“You’re Ganondorf,” Zelda breathed.
A large hand propped him up as he leaned in over Zelda, close enough for her to see the flecks of silver in his eyes. His grin was menacing and his voice breathy and low as he confirmed, “The one and only.”
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