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phoenixcatch7 · 7 months ago

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Okay but it's super interesting how

Din = Power = Ganondorf

Naryu = Wisdom = Zelda

Farore = Courage = Link.

Because Din, in the hylian creation myth, created the physical world. Naryu then created the laws - gravity, time, etc. And Farore finally created life - plants and people.

Din created the body, naryu the mind, Farore the soul.

And the triforce and its wielders so perfectly reflect that.

Ganon is physical power, he is big and intimidating and he breaks things. He is cunning and determined, but that's not what he focuses on. He is might makes right.

Zelda is wisdom and cleverness. She is stall tactics and information and team work. She is a powerful mage with a spine of steel, but that's not how she'll win. She is the pen being mightier than the sword.

Link is courage and persistence. He is the wild card sneaking behind enemy ranks, always moving, plunging into terrifying situations head first. He's a phenomenal fighter with a keen wit, but that's not what will get him through his challenges. He is bravery not being the absence of fear but the triumph over it.

They sit in perfect parallels to each other.

And ganon is reborn through his body - his resurrection is immortality. No matter how low he is cast, as long as he has a body he can claw his way back. He can cling to his power, build it ever higher.

Zelda is reborn through the magic of her bloodline. It's the accumulated knowledge handed down for generations, the unique power she must master, the skills she must develop to survive and get her kingdom out the other side intact. Even her name, the knowledge of herself, is handed down from all the way from the very first. Her ancestors knowledge of her future presence, her stability, is what gives her the edge.

Link is reborn in spirit. He is not bound by flesh or blood. Just like his wanderlust soul he can reappear in any time or place. His variation, his unpredictability, is exactly how he fights. It's what makes him so hard to pin down.

Ganons need to build strength means he can't chase after link. Links impulsiveness means zelda can outwit him. Zeldas stationary predictability means she's an easy target for ganon.

But the other direction?

Fire melts ice, ice redirects lightning, lightning burns fire.

And that's the very essence of the triforce.

#It's little details spread across the games like this that just makes it work so WELL it's SO COOL #They're all great at all parts of the triforce but they CHOOSE to focus on the path most meaningful to them #And that's literally reflected in their unique cycles of reincarnation isn't that just AMAZING #And that's why the team up is so important! If they were all working against each other they'd be locked spinning their wheels #If zelda and ganon teamed up link would immediately die and if link and ganon teamed up zelda would instantly perish #It's the link zelda team up that means ganon is the one who kicks it #Also the elemental thing was cool but they do jump around a bit. Like wind is there half the time #In botk the gerudo have lightning and the goron have fire. Farosh still has lightning tho and dinraal fire #In ss lanaryu was the lightning and faron had water like its all over the place thematically. And that's when it's only 3!#Don't even get me started on the 5/7 lots notankyu #But that's the most common group and it's also thematically accurate #Fire being the only one able to self perpetuate with fuel. Can be banked up again. Ice compresses with time but needs the right environment #Lightning go boom 👍 you can feel the static in the air but you don't know when/where it'll strike and then it's all over #Like fr it's hilarious zelda and ganon are playing the long game and link runs past eats all the pieces and while ganons yelling after him #Zelda checkmates his king. And nobody can prove she wasn't cheating because nobody was looking lmao #Ah the duality of metaphors #ANYWAY isn't that so neat???#Reason no.372 why rhoam was a terrible king he didn't just screw up he did it ✨thematically✨#If link had been allowed to run off and get dirty and if zelda was allowed to study her interest (like post kingdom fall FOR EXAMPLE)#They'd have won (like aoc) but nooooooo. I've already made a post (or 3) about it lmao I'll be quiet now #loz #legend of zelda #botw #triforce #loz link #the legend of zelda #zelda #loz botw #ganondorf #loz ganon

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scary-monsters · 5 days ago

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▹broken boy | a diego brando character study | ch.1 | 2.7k ▹synopsis: Britain's beloved genius jockey. Swimming in money, trophies, lovers, recognition… and yet, he starves for more. With a shady past, dangerously unclear motives, and an explosive ego to boot, it's no wonder his inner circle consists of only himself and those that can benefit him. (Canon leaves out a lot. This fic begins with ten-year-old Diego and aims to fill in the gaps throughout the rest of his life while still remaining true to his core character.) [ read on ao3 instead ]

For young Diego Brando, the closest feeling to “home” is found at the stables. It’s in the creaking of old doors, the crunch of hay underneath his worn boots, the familiar snorts and whinnies that echo throughout the wooden fixtures as soon as he steps near. These days, he can tell them all apart. Diego knows the horses at this farm well enough that they might as well be his brothers and sisters. And, well… in a way, he supposes they’re the closest he’ll ever get to having any sort of family again.

It’s early on a Tuesday; Diego’s just barely beat the sunrise, already dressed in his work attire and headed for the very stables he finds such solace in. Maybe he’s a lucky boy, given that he’s had the opportunity to work with horses for the past five years in order to earn his keep around here. It’s a “dream job” of sorts, he supposes. At any rate, his interaction with the people on this farm tends to stay at a minimum. His job is quite simple: tend to the horses every single day. Feed them, groom them, clean their enclosures. This, of course, is bare bones, but Diego fancies himself an overachiever. He knows the horses by name, understands all their habits and quirks and what makes them tick, so taking each of them around the farm for regular exercise is easy (and enjoyable) work.

With a squeak, the stable doors open easily for him, the air fills his nose with the familiar and comfortable smell of hay. Diego can already hear at least one of his beloved companions stirring in an enclosure just to his left. Cursed with less than average height, he’s unable to clearly see, but he already knows it’s one of the dappled grays, an elderly mare named Tilly.

“Morning, girl,” Diego whispers, approaching the enclosure’s door and giving it a gentle pat. He makes a mental note to take her out for a ride later; it’s been a few days, but he tries to find balance between keeping Tilly active without overexerting her.

Diego’s first attempt at riding a horse was less than successful, of course. He’d just turned five, but his interest in horses had been clear since his infancy. Nervous as she was, Diego’s mother was never the type to discourage his desire to try something new, constantly instilling in him her pride in his drive and intelligence from such a young age. However, her instinct told her to deny him this one request. Her son was much too young, and she was fiercely protective.

Perhaps it was the rough conditions he’d been raised in, but Diego seemed to mature at a much faster pace than the other children on the farm. He’d had no choice, really. Unfortunately, or maybe fortunately, this came with impenetrable stubbornness. Diego respected his mother more than anyone else, but beyond that he wanted nothing more than to make her proud. And so, while she’d been distracted with her own work, he’d attempted to mount one of the more aggressive stallions.

As strong as his innate ability to connect with horses always has been, Diego’s first attempt had ended in him slipping off and tumbling to the ground, though thankfully with no critical injuries. His mother was fuming, scolding him and demanding he keep his distance from the animals for several days. Diego had been heartbroken, but beyond that he’d been embarrassed. The incident left him with a huge blow to his steadily blossoming confidence.

Nevertheless, this only made Diego’s drive much stronger. If there’s anything Diego unquestionably is, it’s persistent. Even more so these days, and it’s what his mother always encouraged him to be, anyway.

Diego gathers supplies from the corner of the stable; an old brush, a metal pick, a bucket, a few thick rope leads, and a rickety shovel. As he makes his way through the structure even more of his friends begin to stir, their heads popping up from behind stable doors and eyeing him expectantly. Diego leans on his shovel as his eyes dart from horse to horse, a grand total of seven in just this stable alone.

“Right then,” Diego states firmly, “we went from oldest to youngest yesterday, shall we switch it up today?”

Sensing no objections, Diego gives one strong nod and lugs his supplies over to the first enclosure on his right.

“Seems it’s your lucky day, Bolt.” The rusty metal latch of the stable door turns, another dappled gray waits inside, this one much younger than Tilly. In fact, he’s the youngest of several she’s birthed while living on this farm.

Diego approaches Bolt with as much gentleness as he does any of the other horses, yielding him the same trust he always receives. Beyond being in tune with horses and their quirks, he’s always had a knack for gaining their reliance almost immediately as well. Moments where he’s had to really prove himself to an animal have been few and far between, but it’s like his mother had said right before she’d passed: this is his innate talent.

With Bolt leashed securely to one of the wooden columns inside the structure, Diego sets to work cleaning up his living space. It’s not easy work, certainly not for a boy his age. Perhaps it’d be different if he were well fed and got regular, sufficient rest, but his living conditions on this farm have only gotten slightly better since his mother passed away four years ago.

Diego no longer sleeps on the barn floor, now he stays in the most run-down room of an inn just down the road from the farm. It’s dingy as it is, but his allowance will only grant him the lowest they have to offer. He continues to survive off daily portions of stew, but it’s not nearly enough to facilitate his growth at this rate. And, unfortunately, he’s always met with a tinge of humiliation when he has to stand in the very line where he’d seen his mother sacrifice her hands for him, only to make direct eye contact with the very same man who’d brought about the most traumatic moment of his life years ago.

The scrape of metal against the wooden floor breaks Diego out of his thoughts, almost like he’d instinctively pushed just a little harder. There’s no time for his mind to wander. The people of this farm will get what’s coming to them, eventually, someday. Diego has to believe it, it’s the one thing that keeps him waking up every single day.

Well, that and his horses. Diego lifts his eyes from the floor and glances over to Bolt, who’s watching him attentively and gently swishing his tail back and forth.

“Come now,” he tuts, chuckling softly to himself as he continues to shovel manure into a neat pile in the center of the enclosure. “Quite hard to do my job if you’re staring bullets through me.”

Bolt lightly shakes his head and snorts. He’s always had a bit more personality than some of the other horses, and Diego figures it may be thanks to his age. Bolt is only three, an age that causes the young boy to consider him something like a brother.

Diego leaves the stables for a moment to retrieve an old squeaky wheelbarrow from outside. He notices with contempt that some of the inhabitants of the small village are starting to go about their daily routines. Rage boils inside him for a moment, his hands clenching tightly against the handles.

Diego deeply inhales. Exhales. Reminds himself of his mother’s wise words.

Dignity. He cannot forget his dignity.

With that, he heads back inside, focusing on his daily tasks. The ache in his arms from shoveling manure and dirty hay is worthwhile in return for the pride he feels. And even though he must unfortunately traverse outside the safety of the stables to retrieve fresh water, he keeps his shoulders up, his head held high, ignoring the people around him.

Without question, Diego’s favorite part of his job is grooming the horses. Every single one of them remains calm under his touch, even as he scrapes at their hooves with a metal pick, albeit as gently as possible. By the time he’s reached the third stable, his hair sticks to his forehead with sweat. It’s not unusual for him to become fatigued partway through his day, but his focus remains on his companions. Before he knows it, he’s soared through caring for almost every horse inside the building.

Thankful that he’s saved his clear favorite for last, Diego eagerly unlatches Tilly’s enclosure and greets her with an encouraging click of his tongue. Hard of hearing at her old age, it takes her a moment to register his greeting, but as soon as she does she slowly rises to her feet.

“Hey, old girl,” Diego coos, extending his hand to carefully pet her muzzle, “fancy a ride this afternoon?”

Of course, as confident as he is in his ability to communicate with these animals, Diego can’t read their minds. But if he could, Tilly would easily be the most capable candidate. Maybe she doesn’t outwardly react, but Diego can sense she’s pleased with that suggestion. He won’t wear her out; he supposes a short walk around the village won’t be too strenuous.

Diego takes the most care with Tilly, offering her as much of his time as possible. Though he prefers not to dwell on it too much, he’s aware that she’s nearing the end of her life. Heart aching a bit at the thought, Diego chews at his lip as he brushes her beautifully spotted coat. A series of pats along her back act as an expression of his gratitude; if not for her, he’s unsure how he’d have gotten through his mother’s tragic passing.

Briefly overcome with emotion, he rests his cheek upon her side, closing his eyes for a moment. Diego isn’t sure how he’ll manage another round of loss, but at least in this instance it’ll be her time. Not like his mother. It wasn’t her time. She deserved to live a long, full life. It simply isn’t fair.

Diego’s eyes fly open and he proudly lifts his head once again.

Dignity. ---

Saddled up and fed, Tilly eagerly allows Diego to mount her. The young boy takes her reins in hand and steers her outside the stables. Balmy sunlight seems to almost restore her, causing her legs to move with a more lively energy. It has the same effect on Diego; his skin hungrily absorbs the bright rays, practically washing away the ache in his arms and legs. He feels at peace like this, astride his beloved horse, lifted above the people he passes by. It’s likely the closest he’ll ever feel to royalty.

Diego doesn’t stop for anyone. He ignores the eyes of the villagers; neighbors is a more accurate word, probably, but his resentment refuses to acknowledge them as such. None of them are worthy of nearing his beautiful steed, Tilly’s much too regal for their filthy hands. Stained with blood, the whole lot of them.

Spotting one of the farmhands just a few feet away, Diego makes a feeble attempt at steering Tilly in the opposite direction, but his fate’s been sealed. The man spots him, sneering in his direction and unfortunately approaching him.

“Brando,” he gruffly greets the boy, “you know that old thing should stay in the stables.”

Diego scoffs. The man may provide him with his work, but this doesn’t mean he deserves even a shred of his respect.

“Tilly has a name.” He lovingly brushes his hand along her neck. “Taking her for a stroll keeps her in shape. My job is to care for the horses, is it not?”

The farmhand narrows his eyes threateningly, but he doesn’t offer a rebuttal as far as Diego’s question. Of course he doesn’t; Diego’s one of the few who selflessly dedicates their time to caring for the animals.

“Her days are nearly up, boy. Wouldn’t it be more worthwhile to focus on the healthy horses?”

He’s undeserving of an answer, Diego decides. Lifting his head, he guides Tilly to turn around and head back for the stables. A short ride is all she can handle, sure, but he’s certain it’s been enough to lift her spirits. He won’t allow this sore excuse for a man to ruin that for her.

“How dare he speak to you like that,” Diego spits, gripping her reins even tighter, “I won’t stand for it. Mark my words, sweet girl.”

It’s a vague promise, but one that he intends to keep.

---

Diego awakens the following morning as he always does – sprawled out on a bedroll resting against the creaky wooden floor of a worn down inn. The sun has just started to peek over the horizon, and his eyes take a moment to adjust to the rays filtering through his small window. He sheds his too-small sleep clothes and clumsily changes into his dirty work attire, eager to start his day.

Ever since his encounter with that farmhand yesterday, he’s been filled with disdain. Diego decides he’ll spend extra time today doting on Tilly, he’ll make it clear to her that she’s worth just as much as any other horse on this farm. Maybe even more, given how much ridicule she’s been subject to.

As always, he’s up before many of the other residents. The silence makes the crunch of his shoes against gravel all the more audible, a welcome sound alongside the chirping of birds and whistling of a gentle breeze.

But something feels off. There’s a faint heaviness in the pit of his stomach, but he tries to quell the sensation. It’s simply the residual frustration from yesterday, he assures himself. As soon as he reaches the stables, he’s certain the comforting feeling of home will wash over him.

Diego approaches the small building, unlatches the old wooden door and steps inside. The sound of his companions reacting to his entrance causes a faint smile to grace his lips. He instinctively looks to his left, stepping towards Tilly’s enclosure and giving its entrance a gentle knock.

“Morning, old girl,” he greets her, just as he always does, but he’s met with silence.

The pit in his stomach grows heavier, larger. Diego curses his height and desperately presses his ear to the gate.

“Tilly?” He attempts to rouse her again.

The silence is deafening. With shaky hands he unlatches the gate and carefully swings it open.

Just as he feared, just as his instinct had told him, his beloved Tilly isn’t there. An empty stable, already tidied up and ready for another resident, is all that greets him.

For a moment, the quickly shrinking hopefulness within him insists that she must be out somewhere, that another farmhand has taken her for a stroll and graciously cleaned her living space. Given the sentiments he’d heard yesterday, he knows this realistically can’t be true. The memory of the farmhand's disgusting sneer and mocking tone echoes through Diego’s mind.

“Tilly,” Diego whispers, as if saying her name will bring her back to him.

It won’t. It can’t. Much in the same vein as his mother was taken from him, the people of this farm have once again spit on him, allowing someone dear to him to be wrongfully abandoned, tossed aside.

All he can do is fall to his knees, his hands grasping desperately at the hay underneath him. The warm sting of imminent tears begins in the corners of his eyes and as much as he’d like to fight it, he can’t. Stare fixed on the very spot that he’d seen Tilly just yesterday, his vision becomes blurry with moisture.

Diego wails, unrelenting. His body shakes with the force of his sobs, he pounds his fist against the wooden floor underneath him, aggressively rips at the too-clean hay surrounding him. It’s unfair, it wasn’t her time, and worst of all, he’d failed to protect her.

Inwardly, he apologizes to his mother, wherever her soul may have ended up. His grasp on dignity has faltered, his shame is immeasurable, and he childishly aches for her comforting embrace.

#diego brando #steel ball run #jjba fanfic #jjba part 7 #sbr #jjba #diego #this is not new LOL this is writing from over two years ago 💀#i've just decided to start hosting my writing over here too so i'll be gradually posting fics #ANYWAYS i am actively working on this fic and hoping to update soonish #it's taking forever bc it's my passion project and i want it to be perfect fdhsjkghdsjkgd so i overthink it a lot

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