#cherryskywriting

[casiavium]

Posting my AU day fic for Ghiralink week a couple hours early because I'm bored!!

You can also read it on ao3

Link first sees him when he's unloading baked goods from the delivery truck out back. A tall man dressed in pants with more rip than jean is leaning against the alley wall, smoking some sweet scented thing though it's barely 6:30 in the morning.

Link is carrying a rather heavy crate of bread when the man notices him, blowing a long stream of cotton candy breath without breaking eye contact. Weirded out, Link sets the bread down, and goes back to the car.

The building next to them is vacant, so Link is used to seeing roughed up teens hanging out, usually when the sun is down. He usually closes, so this morning shift is new to him.

The man looked different from the typical angsty high schooler spray painting the walls and smoking pot to get back at the system, and Link clocks him as trouble. He's his age, if not older, and probably their dealer. He makes a note to bring him up to management, though he knows they won't do anything. He has half a mind to get Zelda to help him, just to have another person there, but she's busy getting ready for the morning rush.

Link has moved onto the pastries when he is startled by the man in white jeans. He's leaning against the truck now, and up close, looks stranger than before. Pure white hair, bold makeup, shaven brows. Link almost drops his box, but gathers himself before it's too late.

The man clears his throat. Link ignores him.

On the way back to the truck, he stands in Link's path so he can't avoid him.

"Do you work here?" He gestures to the small building behind them, and Link nods. The man's face turns into a disgusted sneer. "How... quaint."

Flipping his asymmetrical hair, he doesn't get the hint that Link is busy. "How long have you been working here?"

Frowning, Link has to set down the pallet to hold up 5 fingers.

"Days? Years? Weeks?"

He nods at weeks.

"Don't get used to it." Ghirahim scoffs, and at Link's confused look, jingles keys in his face.

Prancing back to the abandoned building, the man ducks into the door with a satisfied wave, pointing at the insignia of a popular coffee corporation on the door.

Damn.

Link makes a mental note not to leave the building alone anymore.

The coffee company opens within a week. He knows the state of the building, and knows there had to have been some OSHA violations to get it up and running so fast. But the coffee company is a megacorp, and they can do whatever they want. Link occasionally sees the white haired man in the window, usually behind the counter, sometimes at a table with a laptop open in front of him and papers strewn about. He doesn't enter.

Once or twice he's seen him pass the mom-and-pop coffee shop Link works in, stopping to glance in the window. He's made eye contact a few times, but nothing more.

It's another week before the door rings to signal a new customer, and the white haired man walks up to the register while Link's on shift.

"Pleasure to meet you again..." He glances at the smeared name tag. "Rin. Strange name."

Link almost laughs. The man makes a show of reading the menu, belittling their minuscule choices compared to the chain next door, critiquing the handwritten down-on-the-farm chalkboard style. Finally, after a long sigh and a comment on how confusing it all is, he asks,

"What would you recommend?"

Were a friend to ask Link, he'd say a hot apple cider with three pumps of pumpkin spice, whipped cream and cinnamon on top. Given that this is not, he points to their drink of the week taped to the register, which just so happens to be their most expensive. In Link's opinion, this week's is atrocious.

The man's lip curls when he reads the cutesy name, but he agrees anyway. Link holds a pen to the cup, clearly asking for a name.

The man raises a blank brow, still leaning on the counter. There's a line now. "Don't talk much, do you?"

Link stares.

"Ghirahim." He sighs, straightening his posture. "G H I R A-him. Spell it right."

He adds a shrug as he leaves. "Or not. I'm not fussy."

Link passes the cup to Zelda and takes the next order.

A flurry of customers go by, but Link is sure to be "busy" washing the blender when his coworker has made Ghirahim's drink. She has it at the bar, pauses, and squints at Link's bad handwriting.

"Drink of the week for... Gary Ham?"

Link watches smugly as Ghirahim snatches the hot coffee, storming out of the shop with a huff.

Link can no longer hide behind a messy nametag when the owner Pumm decides they all need to look more professional. "Link" is printed clearly and legibly in stark black ink against a white background, pinned to the top of his apron where everyone can see.

Ghirahim avoids coming into the coffee shop, but Link sees him outside the window occasionally. He always glares at him when he notices.

He's with a group of people when he visits them next, his nasally whine loudly ringing through the room that they "could just go next door, he gets a discount there." A tall woman with hair as white as his waves his complaints off, saying she likes the taste better here and he doesn't share anyway.

Ghirahim's the last to order. Link almost makes Kina take it this time, but she's already busy with the drinks and Ghirahim's already seen him. He smirks at Link's little glare, and leans against the counter.

"Nice to see you again, sweetheart." He mocks, but his eyes glance down at the nametag. His face freezes when he sees the name is not Rin, and for a moment, Link wonders if he can pull off the evil twin act.

However, the chance that both twins have a brain that doesn't connect to their vocal cords is low, and Ghirahim rolls his eyes.

"So it's Link." He draws out the 'k', and it's kind of nice the way it rolls off his tongue. "You just have the handwriting of a toddler."

Link is pissed. This time, before Ghirahim can order, he grabs a cup without writing a name. Ghirahim squawks a protest over the sound of mid-tier pop music, his friends teasing him in the background. Link throws some sugary syrup into a cup, giving him what appears to be a glass of straight milk when he's done.

Kina's on the third friend's drink, who makes a snide remark about the service if Ghirahim's getting his first. A battle for dominance, Ghirahim walks to the counter to take it from Link's hand.

He doesn't let go.

From behind his back he pulls out the worst flavor they have, cherry syrup that tastes like cough medicine, and pours it over the top of his mocha-less white mocha. Ghirahim glances down at the red collating in the sugary monstrosity, barely holding together his disgust.

On the house Link seems to say with a smile and a tilt of his head.

Ghirahim snarls and takes the cup.

Just Link's luck, the friend group snags a table and stays there for a while. Ghirahim ignores him, but Link pays attention as he mulls over the slow coffee chit-chat, occasionally sparing him a glance to take a long sip when he knows Link's watching. It can't be good, the number of unappealing things Link put in there, but Ghirahim drains the whole glass.

As he leaves, he licks a drop of the cherry syrup from his finger, sending a smirk and a wink in Link's direction.

Against his better judgement, Link is the one to make the next move in their game of chess. He visits the megacorp coffee shop two weeks later, walking through the front door without looking back.

Ghirahim isn't there. Link isn't sure what his plan was now that he's at the register and can't speak, a bitchy barista telling him to hurry up as he frantically scribbles something on a pad. Someone is waiting behind him. He can't find his wallet. He fumbles the pen, plastic falling from his fingers, and is on the verge of panic when it slides under the counter.

"I'll take this one."

Link snaps up from crawling on the floor to see Ghirahim's hand on the shoulder of the other, gesturing with his eyes for Link to leave the line and wait at the counter. A hot flush floods his cheeks, and Link shrinks back.

Link doesn't see what all Ghirahim is making. He watches matcha powder get placed back on the shelf, hears the clink of ice, and then the man disappears behind a swinging door for a second. When he comes back, it's with a self absorbed smirk.

"Here." He slides a bright green drink across the bar, the sides ringed with threads of red syrup. Link's eyes widen. "Much better than what you gave me, I'll say."

Link takes the drink, eyes cast away. With a fluid motion he moves an open palm from his chin to out in front of him, and hurries away.

Thank you.

He doesn't know if Ghirahim understands.

The next time Ghirahim visits, Link is working alone. It's closing, and Pipit is taking the trash out that night. He doesn't expect any customers that late on a Tuesday, not even a stray college student pulling an all-nighter.

He's slacking off behind the counter, watching videos on his phone, when the bell rings. Nearly falling from his chair, he gasps when he sees white hair and tight clothes, a splash of purple makeup on a pale face.

Immediately, he gets to work.

The espresso machine has been cleaned and shut down, but Link fires it up anyway. This time, he takes his time pouring the syrup around the edge of the cup, mixing the white chocolate powder until it's smooth and creamy. He gives him oat milk, though they're supposed to charge extra (and he's not charging him at all), and tops it off with whipped cream.

Link makes a second of eye contact before grabbing a pen. Something possesses him this time. He writes his number on the cup, and the first words he's ever "spoken" to Ghirahim. Leaving the drink on the bar, he scurries behind a curtain to finish his closing duties.

From behind the fabric he peeks out, Link watches as Ghirahim's mouth quirks into a smirk when he reads his messy writing. He pulls out his phone, types something in, and walks out of the coffee shop without a word.

Link's phone buzzes.

"I can give you something other than coffee to keep you up all night. Call me."

You couldn't have thought of a better pick up line?

#ghiralink week 2022 #legend of zelda #cherryskywriting #skyward sword #ghiralink #ghirahim #link

[skyview-temple-spring]

It's a bit late, but Happy Halloween!

Here's a fic about Skyloft celebrating fall holidays despite not having fall and the ghost hand in the bathroom :)

#skyward sword #legend of zelda #link #zelda #groose #cherryskywriting

[skyview-temple-spring]

Gratitude for Day 6!

It had been a year since the final battle. A year since he had defeated Demise, saved the surface, saved Zelda, a year since they lost Fi and Impa. 

But that meant it had also been a year since they decided to move to the Surface. A year since their new life. A year since he had picked up the sword left on the battlefield and gained the eccentric demon lord as an ally (as more than an ally). Though he was sure people were looking for him back in the village, probably starting to worry, Link pushed the feeling out of his mind as he walked up the steps of the Sealed Temple. There would be celebrating later, but Link needed a moment alone.

Well, as alone as he could be.

"You know, you shouldn't have left your sword behind. You're losing your touch, hero."

Pause.

"Good morning to you too, Ghirahim."

Link didn't startle as the demon lord huffed and teleported behind him, strong arms wrapping around his waist.

"The war may be over, but don't think for a moment that you're safe."

"Is that a confession you're planning something?"

Gasping in indignation, Ghirahim released his grip on Link as he disappeared in a flurry of diamonds and popped back up at the top of the stairs.

"After all we've been through, you still doubt me, master? I'm offended."

The sly grin half hidden by his dramatic movements did not go unnoticed to Link. Of course there would always be a sliver of mistrust between the two, how could there not be after everything they had done to each other?

______________________________________________________________

Though the lightning had stopped, Link couldn't help but feel electricity coursing through his body as he walked towards the blade lying on the soaked ground.

"Master, I advise you against approaching the sword. Though small, there is still a fifteen-percent chance the demon known as Ghirahim survived where Demise did not."

"I can't just leave him here, Fi, especially if he may be alive! What if... I don't know, what if Demise isn't really gone? We thought it was over before, and that was a lie. I need to make sure there's no way he can ever come back... right?"

Link took a few steps closer to the sword before Fi chimed again.

"I have detected the presence of the Demon Lord Ghirahim. The probability of his current survival has increased to ninety-nine percent. Master Link, it would be best for you to leave while you still have the chance. If you were to fight him in your current state, you would only have a thirty percent chance of emerging victorious."

Though he winced at Fi's words, Link muttered, "I've faced worse odds", and knelt down to grab the sword in front of him. The effect was instantaneous. Link was thrown backwards as a swirl of dark energy stained the air. As he scrambled to his feet, a figure materialized over top of the blade. The black clouds solidified, leaving the diamond-crossed form Link had only just learned was the real Ghirahim, and he felt a strange tug in his chest, pulling him towards the sword, just as the glowing white eyes of the demon blinked open.

"No..." The demon whispered half-consciously, "It can't... he couldn't have... this... this wasn't the..."

But before he could form a coherent sentence, Ghirahim slumped forward, groaning, a hand covering the broken gem on his chest. Link, ignoring Fi's alarmed chimes, crawled closer to the once terrifying enemy. Ghirahim winced when Link accidentally set his palm against the flat blade of the sword, which made Link quickly draw his hand back.

With nothing else to do, the two sat in a pained silence for some time, too cautious to make the first move. Growing impatient, Ghirahim finally dropped his hand from his chest, and with a defeated sigh, broke the silence.

"Looks like you won, Link. Congratulations." There was no sincerity in his voice. "I suppose you have no idea what this means now, do you?"

Link tentatively shook his head, rising to his knees.

"You defeated my master. You claimed your reward." At Link's confused face, Ghirahim laughed once, running a hand across the cracked gem that was starting to mend itself. "Me, you naïve boy. You grabbed the discarded weapon of your fallen enemy. I assume you know how spirited swords work, given that you have one yourself?" 

He sounded tired. Link only gave him an 'um...' in response, an answer backed up by one of Fi's chimes Link had taken to mean she was annoyed (or would be, if she felt real emotions). Not the answer he was looking for, but one he expected. Mustering up as much sarcasm and annoyance he could in his tired and weakened state, Ghirahim rose to a knee, mocking the oath he knew Link had made to Hylia himself, and told him,

"It means I have no choice but to follow your every command now, master."

______________________________________________________________

Link's mind went back to the present as the tell tale chime told him Ghirahim had reformed next to him. Though much different from Fi, Link couldn't help but notice there were subtle similarities between the two swords that often had him confused if he was back in the past or not.

"I would never harm you, you know that?"

Ghirahim asked him, taking his hand into his own. Link's disbelief must have been apparent on his face, as his sword laughed, genuinely, as pulled him towards the steps once more.

"Not anymore. And, of course, not unless you asked for it."

Ghirahim finished with a dangerous grin that had Link pushing him away, though he was laughing too. He did not want to act on his sword's innuendos here.

______________________________________________________________

It certainly wasn't easy to convince anyone, even himself, that Ghirahim was worth saving. Impa had suggested leaving him in the past (that just means we deal with a full strength demon lord in the future), Groose wanted to chuck him off the nearest volcano (which would do no harm to me, you brainless oaf, Ghirahim had chimed in), and Zelda offered to attempt to use Hylia's sealing powers (bad idea, you don't even know if you can use them in your mortal form, your Grace). In the end, it was Fi that convinced them Ghirahim was safe to keep around, after she appeared, giving Groose a heart attack, and told the group Link could order Ghirahim to stay in the sword and he would be unable to disobey. Link had almost done it, but, for a second, he saw something other than arrogance or anger on Ghirahim's face: fear. He had convinced the others to give him a chance, but if anything went wrong, it was into the sword forever. Link pretended he didn't hear Ghirahim viciously say, "You made your hero too merciful, your Grace", as he followed Fi to leave her to rest.

It had not gotten easier after that. Link was hesitant to use his power over Ghirahim, and Ghirahim was too good at slipping through the holes left in his orders. The two were at each other's throats constantly, trading insults and small injuries that did not go unnoticed. Link didn't know when the insults and injuries really became more out of small affections and teasing rather than spite and revenge, only after they finally went too far.

They had been sparing in Faron Woods, Ghirahim mocking Link's inability to use a two handed sword properly, when Link lashed out in frustration, a slip in battle that left him open to attack. Ghirahim hadn't meant to actually harm Link like he did, but as soon as it happened, his sword was on the ground and he was teleporting Link to Skyloft, never mind the amount of his energy that it cost him. 

When Link woke, it was to Zelda, but she had recalled how the sword stayed by his side until he was sure he was okay.

______________________________________________________________

"Ghirahim, I'm here to pay my respects to the fallen. It's a day of remembrance." Link laughed, sliding from his grip. Ghirahim scoffed.

"That doesn't seem to be the case back in the village."

"Yes, well," Link shrugged, ascending the steps to the back room of the temple. "We show reverence through celebration. What better way to honor them than joy?"

______________________________________________________________

Skyloft had many holidays.

Link brought Ghirahim to his first festival after the incident. Still recovering, Link watched his friends dance, enjoyed food, and partook in the laughter and joy of the incoming season. For a moment, he could forget his worries.

The night dwindled down, and he came to the realization he hadn't seen Ghirahim that much. The demon had been lurking in the outskirts of the party, never socializing and staying hidden away. Link didn't want to pressure him, but he felt guilt for Ghirahim's fate.

He was watching the band play one last song, throes of people dancing in ways he couldn't, when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"Care to dance?"

Startled, Link had no choice. He took Ghirahim's hand, and away from the crowd, followed the demon's footsteps. Clumsy, fumbling, and weak, Link wasn't very good, but Ghirahim made no comment. When the song ended, their hands fell, and Ghirahim stepped away.

"Goodnight then. Master." He added, almost as an afterthought. He seemed distant.

As he was turning to leave, Link grabbed his hand.

"Ghirahim! Wait, please, I..." Stuttering, Link wasn't sure what to say. "I... enjoyed that."

"Did you now?" The demon smirked, not taking Link's hand but not pushing him away.

They were so close. So, so very close. Ghirahim towered over Link, but he was leaning down, getting closer... closer still...

He pulled away, Link's dumbfounded smile his reward.

"I hope you enjoyed that too."  

______________________________________________________________

"So. Why are you here?" Ghirahim asked, inspecting his nails as Link stood in front of the Master Sword. Link sighed. He wouldn't be getting much introspection done that day.

"To thank her. For everything."

"You did most of it." Ghirahim raised his brows, glancing at the blade.

"But I couldn't have done it without her."

Kneeling as if to pray, Link was ready to take a moment of silence. Then, Ghirahim kneeled next to him.

"I suppose," Ghirahim began, conversationally, "I should thank her as well. She is what brought us together."

______________________________________________________________

"All I eat when I'm in Skyloft in pumpkin. Pumpkin bread, pumpkin soup, pumpkin..."

"That's why you're so soft around the edges." Ghirahim squeezed Link's waist and he giggled. Strange, to be laughing around him. To feel an emotion other than annoyance or frustration, for once. Link squirmed away from him on their picnic blanket, tired from sparring and needing the rest (with food other than pumpkin).

 "Not that I mind. Or that you should mind, for that matter." He said, tilting his head down so that they were so close their noses brushed. If he leaned forward, he could kiss him. Which was just what Link did, shifting his hand to the back of Ghirahim's neck as he pressed forward, gently pressing his lips the other. He smiled against the others lips as the hands at his waist wandered, one drifting up to caress his side, the other slipping down to squeeze softly.

Ghirahim was volatile. Somedays, he would be standoffish and arrogant. Others, proud and gaudy. Frustrated and angry. Furious, outraged, sick with anger. Very rarely was he gentle and kind, teasing but in a way that made Link smile instead of blush. 

It took some getting used to, but Link had time.

"Hmm." Link hummed, enjoying the feeling of Ghirahim on his skin. He placed his hand over his, and sighed contentedly. "I don't mind much when I'm with you."

______________________________________________________________

Link stood to leave, Ghirahim following after. His mouth was already watering from the promise of good food, the music and laughter of their first annual Surface festival. Ghirahim seemed excited too, in his own way.

"You know," He stopped and turned to Link, abruptly halting their march. "I never think I properly thanked you for saving me."

"Really?" Link laughed, rocking on his heels as Ghirahim stepped closer. "Tell you what. Buy me a drink, give me a dance," He stepped up on his toes, noses brushing as they collided, "and we can call it even."

#ghiralink #ghirahim #link #skyward sword #ghiralink week 2022 #legend of zelda #cherryskywriting #fanfiction #loz

[skyview-temple-spring]

Exert from a fic I'm writing (that is not about Zelda) that focuses on her relationships with Hylia

After falling to the Surface, she had been eager to prove herself and take her place in saving the world below. She had followed the old woman's guidance without question, followed Impa as her younger self to the second spring, and never stopped to think about the consequences. She had been labelled the Goddess, but all she did was follow other's wills for her.

She wondered, had she not blindly walked into the spring that first night on the Surface, if she would have critically thought about the plan laid out for her.

No matter how many times they drilled into her mind the incantations of "Her Grace", "Spirit Maiden", and "Incarnation of Hylia", Zelda never felt holy. She was never a god, she never had control over any of the plans made for her and Link. If she had really been the divine being her destiny claimed she was, she could have changed it all. She could have solved the problems herself, and never drug Link into it.

And at the same time, she was her. The plan made sense. If she had fought on her own the way mortal Zelda thought she could, she would have been captured too early. If Link succumbed to his fate, he could be brought back. The spirit of the hero was something no one man's soul possessed, and the Sword would claim another. Her hero, her Link, was only the same as the first for Hylia's (her) selfish reasons. She wanted them to be together, as mortals, this time with a chance at happiness. Hylia fell in love, a love that was dependent on time running out. She cheated life and death and rebirth for a second chance, but mortal Zelda had screwed that up.

Ever since stepping in the spring, Zelda didn't feel like herself. She claimed to be still "his" Zelda, but was she her own? Was she ever her own Zelda, or was she just someone else's game piece to be pushed around as they pleased? A figurehead for those with greater power than her. A doll to be dressed up and put in a display case.

Would stepping into the spring grant her the personhood she yearned for once more, or did she ever have it to begin with?

Everyone made sacrifices, Link's was no greater than hers, really. Her memories were jumbled and insecure, but they were hers all the same. Zelda, Hylia, were the line in the sand was drawn didn't matter. Even her own childhood seemed clouded with the centuries of life the god had lived,

Hylia was mortal now, that much was made true when she nearly died and could do nothing to help. She trained as a knight, and all she got to be was the piece of meat the birds fought over.

#cherryskywriting #skyward sword #zelda #hylia #legend of Zelda #loz

[skyview-temple-spring]

Sword Spirit for Day 5! Sneak peek at the sword spirit!Link AU I'm writing after I finish Sunrise

Ghirahim traced the edges of the gem, heat sparking beneath his fingers. Each touch felt like fire and magic. A raging storm beneath a crystal cage.

"It really is beautiful, you know. You are beautiful."

Link shrugged him off.

"Well, don't be huffy about it." The demon lord sighed, turning over in his bed. "It's not like you can reverse it now."

A glint of light bounced off the dark mass on Link's chest. He tried to cover it with his hands, but the emerald still shone through his viridian fingers. Ringed with permanent gold, even those were a constant reminder of what he had done.

"I don't know if I made the right choice." The young sword whispered, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see any part of himself. He felt trapped in his own skin, joints as stiff as metal and they creaked with every move he made.

"Why does it matter if it was right?" Ghirahim sighed, becoming increasingly annoyed with Link's doubts. "It can't be undone. Don't bother yourself with it."

"I just feel—" 

Link found himself pinned to the bed in a flash. The sudden motion made his stomach churn, though there was nothing he could possibly throw up. Blinking open his empty eyes, he stared at the demon above him, frightfully anticipating his next move.

"Don't worry about what's right and wrong anymore. That is no longer your call." Harsh fingers gripped Link's wrists, and despite his recent upgrade, Ghirahim was still stronger. Metal grinded against metal, and in the darkness of the Demon Lord's bedroom, his white fangs flashed mirthlessly. "Morality is not your place. What is right is up to our Master. Cherish your newfound freedom from such trivial ethics."

He wanted to. Oh, goddess, how he wanted to. Link squirmed beneath Ghirahim's uncomfortable grip, grinding their skin together worse than before, and it only made his restraints stronger. The demon growled, shoving his forearm across Link's neck to silence and sedate him. 

He did not choke. Breath was a luxury he had not relearned.

"I told you you could seek refuge in my room for the night, but if you're going to be this pitiful, I may as well send you back to the dungeons. That's where I was banished my first night as a spirit, you should be grateful you have my assistance at all." He hissed, teeth grazing Link's ear. His struggling did not still, and Ghirahim raised a hand to slap him across the face.

Link jerked back, though it held little pain. Before, Ghirahim's slaps were damaging enough that he often needed to heal, but now it was light. Like tapping a remlit with his toe to get it to shoo away. It was the humiliation of the action that kept Ghirahim doing it.

"Or, would you rather I let our Master deal with you? He would certainly not be as kind as I nor the dungeons. Were you to relay these thoughts to him, he'd make you beg for the fire in comparison."

That scared Link enough to still. After a solid minute of staredown, Ghirahim rolled off, laying on his back with a sigh. "Really, sky child, you had every chance to back out. This was never the only choice, yet it is the one you made. You will see it to completion."

That was final. The demon rolled away again, back faced to Link. Stark white patterns looked like netting over him, tying him down to the bed and his fate. A fate that was now Link's to share.

Ghirahim was right. It wasn't like he had much choice now. Rising to the edge of the bed, Link sat up, staring out to the window that was always kept closed.

No matter how he tried to distract himself, he could still feel. Fire in his very soul, a neediness for something (or, rather, someone) that had died down after the past few hours but was nowhere near satiated, the itchiness of his skin. Ghirahim had told him he could go back to "normal" after a few days, but until then, he waited in his new form. And he regretted.

Oh, how he regretted. The bed shifted behind him, and Link was distracted from his thoughts, but they were still there. He missed home. He missed Zelda. He missed what he could have been, had he not been such a failure. 

"Oh, for someone so quiet, you think so damn loud." Ghirahim groaned, grasping Link's arm. He jumped, startled at the contact, and nearly fell off the bed.

"Pfft. Come here, then, if you're so antsy." Ghirahim gestured next to him, patting the soft sheets. Link looked lost, glancing between the space and the metal of Ghirahim's skin.

"Oh, what now?" The spirit cursed, sitting up to join Link. He never let go of his arm, the feel of iron and obsidian on whatever he was made of making his skin crawl.

"Hurts." Link simply offered, struggling to get his arm from Ghirahim's. "Metal on metal. Not exactly pleasant."

"Well, you better get used to it. It's what swords were made for." The spirit sighed, but as he did, diamonds filtered into the air. Link blinked, and Ghirahim was human(ish) again.

"Come to bed. You need rest." 

Link did not move himself, but Ghirahim pulled him close. Almost in a trance, they laid on the silk sheets, and he finally let himself relax. Marginally.

"You needn't worry anymore, darling." Ghirahim hummed, soft skin petting Link's smooth hair. He shushed him though he had no tears from his eyes and no breath for sobs, and Link felt so, so alone.

"I can give you everything you need."

#I'm posting two version of the story when I write it #Damage Control and Unbreakable Spirit. DC is going to be E but US is T at most maybe not even ghiralink. haven't decided #cherryskywriting #ghiralink week 2022 #ghiralink #skyward sword #link #ghirahim

[skyview-temple-spring]

Finally started writing my Sword Spirit! Link AU! This is rated T, no ships, but there's a much darker body horror Ghiralink version that can be found on my Ao3 that I will be posting at the same time as this.

#skyward sword #legend of zelda #loz #cherryskywriting

[skyview-temple-spring]

Ghiralink week brainrot starting now

jk I am queuing this really early because I'm still afk for the next week or so for school. I'm in Italy digging up dead people Roman rocks, tbh, and learning Roman history that I already knew because the program is not intended for third year classics majors but COVID put it off for two years and I kinda need it to graduate. so.

This was a veryyy basic sketch I posted a while ago, based on my post-game fic Sunrise. Here's the scene it's from:

Stopping Link, he pointed at a figure on the wall. Sword raised high, shield in hand, framed by a cape and symbolic glow, Link almost immediately recognized him. His heart beat quickened.

With a snap from Ghirahim, the torches flared to life. Link could see the full carvings now, a mixture of artwork and writing, faded green and red paints flaking off the wall.

He didn't need to read to understand this story. It was one he had heard thousands of times, whispered around campfires, butchered and made so boring he couldn't stay awake in history lessons, recounted at every ceremony honoring the goddess. There had always been the feeling of what if I could be like him?, every parent telling their children they could be as brave as the Chosen Hero or as wise as the goddess, but it clicked.

This was about him.

I know, I didn't read my own writing before drawing this. It is. Not at all how I pictured this scene writing it, tbh. The sword is in the wrong position. I kind of hate doing this art style, so I'm not fixing it.

#skyward sword #ghiralink #ghiralink week 2022 #ghirahim #link #cherryskywriting #cherryskyart

[skyview-temple-spring]

Flight/Falling for day 2! The writing goes with the art this time.

The sky is not a safe haven for all.

The clouds above hide secrets, they keep the venerated away from the vile. The forsaken surface is away from Hylia's revered people.

Death rains down from the clouds. The hero falls, rises, destroys. Every carefully laid plan and every thread of fate are thrown out of place, the gears shifting and turning in the wrong direction.

Holy chosen, alight with powers he cannot begin to comprehend, draws down the sky itself with his will. He comes to the surface to soak his sword in blood in the name of peace. He claims he is not the parallel of another, his foil's blade pierced where no beating heart lies.

From cloudy skies ripping apart what is known to the clear empty familiar as a corrupted memory, the sky has been defiled. He is falling, falling, falling down into depths he never imaged, and from ashes, he will rise.

The sky brings light, and open arms await. 

In the vast unknown is truth. In the fear above comes love. Snapped threads of fate weave themselves together, intertwined with diamonds and feathers. 

From the sky came life. The hero flies, lands, and creates. The future comes all on its own, no orders and duties and overarching goals to consume every waking moment. Baptized in blood, their fate is forever sealed together, no more a noose tied around their necks than a leash keeping them in place.

In the golden glow of his presence, demonic meets angelic and neither clash. A hero for the people, an enemy made for him alone. They are as alike as flight and falling.

You never know which way is up and which way is down.

#ghiralink #ghirahim #link #skyward sword #cherryskyart #cherryskywriting #ghiralink week 2022 #hi can I yell about the line #his foil's blade pierced where no beating heart lies. #because you can read it as foil as in opposite OR foil as in foil like a sword #SO it either mean's Link's blade in Ghirahim's gem or Ghirahim's blade missing Link's heart and thus not killing him

[skyview-temple-spring]

Choice

Technically I started writing this in 2019. I'm clearing out my drafts for Ghiralink week so they finally see the light of day. Kind of forced the prompt for some of them lol

Link felt tears pooling in his eyes as he shut the door to his room and flopped face first on the bed. Trying not to cry, he pulled the blankets around his head and shut out the rest of the world. Or, at least he tried to, if not for the unmistakable sound of chimes. He groaned and rolled towards the wall.

"So, how'd it— ah, I see."

Link popped his head out of his blanket cocoon to glare at the sword spirit. 

Arms crossed and a brow raised, Ghirahim was having none of Link's tantrum. "Surely it doesn't matter that much, does it?"

Link shoved the sword away and sat up, hugging the blankets to his chest. "No, of course not, it's just that five years of classes mean nothing and I'm getting put in entry level ancient Hylian again just because I was too scared to answer half the questions on the test!"

Ghirahim sneered at him, tone tinted with annoyance. "I do not appreciate the sarcasm, sky child."

Link mumbled a weak apology and pulled the blanket back over his head. The room was silent for a moment, and then the floorboards groaned from weight and the mattress springs protested. He didn't struggle when Ghirahim pulled him into his arms and laid back on the bed. He didn't flinch when a hand started stroking his hair. He just stared up at the ceiling, ignoring what had happened earlier that day.

The comforting movements were stiff, and brought little reassurance. The sword's halting motions were a weak attempt at best, forced at worst. After a while, Ghirahim finally broke the silence.

"I don't see why you're so worried about this matter. It's nothing compared to what you've already been through."

Link hummed in reply.

"And you don't have to worry about about your exam any more."

I shouldn't have worried about it in the first place if I was just going to fail it, Link thought to himself.

"And-"

"Can you stop? I don't want to think about it, okay." Link snapped, though he instantly regretted it. He rolled from Ghirahim's arms with a groan, awaiting the oncoming tirade of how he didn't deserve this disrespect.

Instead of indignantly leaving the room claiming he was unwanted like Link thought he would, Ghirahim's hands wandered down to Link's chest, slowly tracing the outline of his academy uniform, and he felt hot breath tickle his ear.

"Then how about I help you take your mind off it?"

Link shuddered. "Not now, please."

Surprisingly, Ghirahim pulled away at Link's request.

"Then what can I do for you, Link?"

Shifting, Link wiped his teary eyes on the blanket. He blinked up at the genuine question, confused as to why the sword was so... pliant with his silly Hylian emotions.

"I... can we just... sit? In silence? I don't want to be alone, but I think I'd be a rather boring conversation partner right now."

Ghirahim made no move to dismiss the idea. Link bit at his lip, surprised the demon was following his wish.

Slowly, they started sinking into each other. First, it was Ghirahim leaning back against the wall. Then Link lay down, resting his head on the spirit's thighs. A hand found it's way into his hair, tangling into the curls more naturally than his earlier petting. Another cool hand drifted across Link's back, rubbing circles into his shoulders. 

A loftwing cried outside his window. Link stared off into the empty space of his room, comfortable enough to say nothing. 

"You know," Ghirahim began, tone gentle as if calming a spooked remlit, "You are never as trapped in a corner as you think you may be. There's always a choice."

Link, significantly more at ease, shrugged. His sword too this as a sign to keep going.

"You have fought horrors unimaginable to most of your peers. I don't see why they are making you do something as trivial as translate inaccurate histories your past life lived through in order to protect your people."

It did seem quite stupid. Link traced aimless patterns against the bare skin on Ghirahim's thigh, pondering the meaninglessness of life at the academy after Demise.

Ghirahim's thigh tensed. Link, ever entuned the sword's silent language, knew he was about to pounce. Figuratively or literally, he wasn't sure yet.

"You could just... quit."

It took a moment for the words to set in. 

Sitting straight up, Link looked at him incredulously, mouth agape. "Quit school? Ghirahim, I've made it this far, I'm not giving up now. It's unlike you to suggest I just give up."

"No, not quit as in give up, but quit as in... retire. You don't have to become a knight. You've done far more than anyone on this island in terms of 'protecting', haven't you? Why should you prove yourself in academics when you've bested far greater foes in battle?" 

"I... it's not an option, I can't just quit now..." Link avoided Ghirahim's eyes, stumbling back away from him.

"Link." A hand under his chin, halting his retreat, Ghirahim's deep eyes stared into him. He shivered.

"Talk to me."

A moment of silence stretched into minutes. Ghirahim dropped his hand from his face, lip curled into a displeased sneer. Link shrank under the disappointed look, another in a long line of people he couldn't seem to satisfy.

"Fine. Don't. Be that way."

The spirit disappeared, leaving Link alone in a flurry of diamonds. He knew he wasn't far, but still couldn't bring himself to make the words leave his throat.

Another long, vapid silence, and Link took a deep breath.

"Wait." 

No response, but Link felt something flare up in his heart. He didn't look the the tall, dark sword by his closet, kept his gaze on the loose threads in the blankets. He felt Ghirahim's presence, and sighed again.

"If I quit now, it's like I'm failing everyone again."

Link gritted his teeth, throat closing. He knew he had to get these words out, for himself and for Ghirahim.

"No one ever expected me to amount to much. Sure, I was good at flying, but I never really knew how to practice, or take things seriously. I wasn't the best fighter, fell asleep in class. I had just done the pretty much unimaginable and won our most prestigious ceremony, graduating to the next stage top of my class in flying right when you messed everything up. Zelda had been so proud of me."

Hugging a pillow to his chest, Link smiled through his tears. For once shining moment, it had seemed like he had done something right, hadn't it?

"Well, then I was made quite aware of how underprepared I really was for the real world, thanks to you. I was constantly messing up. I was late, I couldn't defeat you, I very nearly didn't complete the trials the goddess left for me..." Choking up, Link sniffed pathetically as he clutched the pillow. Hylia, how weak he must seem right now. Hiding his face, he couldn't bring himself to continue.

The bed dipped beside him. A cool hand on his back, and Link blinked up during a pause in his sobbing. Ghirahim, though fairly emotionless, was listening.

"I..." Link took a deep breath, trying to calm himself down. "It's not about the grades. I needed to pass just like everyone else... I needed to prove I'm worth it. I've already done so as Hylia's Chosen Hero, but what about me? What about Link? Am I only worth something when I'm dying for someone else?"

He sank back on the bed, relived to finally let the emotion out. Ghirahim offered no support, but, hey, that was expected. 

Until he laid down next to him.

"I think the two can't be separated. Link, Hero, they're both you. And you want to know what I think?"

Link propped himself up on his elbow, watching Ghirahim's eyes flicker to meet his.

"I think Link needs a damn break. You won. You've proven yourself far more than any paltry member of this community. So, Hero," Ghirahim's emotionless face split into a grin, rolling over to flash him those dangerous glinting eyes. "Forget about this silly little academy. Knight in name or not, I think you are more than well enough equipt to do whatever you damn well please."

Tackling the other, Ghirahim wrestled Link until they were both laughing and breathless. Link giggled up at him, wrists trapped beneath his strong, smooth, hands, and couldn't help but smile. He was met with a sharp grin and a wicked tongue.

"And if that means continuing your ventures in academia," Ghirahim whispered, leaning down to his ear, "I suppose I will support you just the same."

Link swatted at the demon's shoulder, his laughter ringing through his tiny room.

Ghirahim was right. For what felt like the first time in his life, the choice was his, and his alone.

#skyward sword #cherryskywriting #ghirahim #link #ghiralink #ghiralinkweek2022

[casiavium]

Ghirahim has a smile that reminds Link of an animal baring its teeth. Whether trapped prey or snarling hunter, he can't tell.

#skyward sword #ghirahim #ghiralink #cherryskywriting #queue? we don't know her

[casiavium]

free invite to talk about whatever you're currently interested in~

I have one interest and it's Zelda no I do have many interests but I can't think right now because of my allergy medication so I'm going to go through my notes and post the little snippets and things that I haven't been able to fit anywhere else!

She would have burned the world, had Hylia asked—and that's when she realizes she's no different from him.

She's doing this for love of the goddess, he's in it for love of power—he can't expect to gain anything from the demon king, after all.

And she knows what he's gone and done, sacrificed himself and been corrupted into something not even human anymore. And Hylia is talking of the same.

She's seen the darkness her goddess can posess. Everything for a good cause, yes? She thinks of her hero, rotting in a cell for a crime he never committed, and she thinks of the girl Hylia offered the honor to. The poor thing that doesn't even know what the sacrifice entails

********

Link set the sword down, frowning as the demon inside appeared abruptly, lounging on the bed he had just made.

"Get off my bed in your day pants."

"Oh please, we did dirtier things than my pants in this bed last night." Ghirahim smirked.

********

"Okay, okay. My turn." Zelda's face split into a mischievous grin. "Fuck, marry, kill: Hylia, Demise, the Imprisoned."

Before he could even open his mouth, Zelda added, "Yes, Demise and the Imprisoned are two different things for this hypothetical situation."

Link lay back down, staring up at the night sky.

"Damn, Zelda, that's tough. Marry Hylia, I guess."

"You guess."

Link snorted.

"Yeah. And, I mean, I've already killed Demise, so..."

"You'd fuck the Imprisoned over me."

"Would you rather I marry it?

"How would it even work?"

"Well, I suppose you'd, uh..." Link frowned, unsavory images flashing in his mind. The two of them burst out laughing, the happy sound echoing around them.

***********

unpopular opinion I don't like the theory that Ghirahim is Lorule's Master Sword, I don't want him in BOTW2, not everything needs to be connected

**********

"I feel bad comparing myself to him. What if someday in the future you tell this to someone else? Start pointing out all of my flaws. 'Youre smaller than him, thin and fit. You have softer, smoother, unblemished skin, no silly freckles or scars. You're more confident and funnier and less lazy—"

**********

star crossed fates are reserved for lovers. They don't even get the beauty of pretending this could happen.

************

Fledge has a crush on Link, Groose bullied Link because he thought he was jealous of him for being close to Zelda but actually he's just bi and liked them both, Ghirahim was Link's gay awakening but Pipit was his "oh shit yeah it all makes sense now", Zelda definitely liked the cool female knight that picks you up if you fall off Skyloft and she thinks Karane is cute, Link almost dated Peatrice during the quest but after they kind of fell apart, Groose meets Peatrice and he actually does think she's the prettiest girl on Skyloft like her dad says and Peatrice sees him as a hero (which makes more sense, Link may be the real hero but to most of Skyloft? He broke the chandelier in the lumpy pumpkin and breaks into people's houses, your perfect innocent hero Sky Link is cute but honestly out of character), Karane and Pipit are together

Post game goes several ways either total Zelink and sword spirits are out of the picture, Zelfi and Ghiralink, or Ghiralink and Zelda's with some else (or Link, poly is cool too)

Orielle is aroace

90% of my writing is endgame ghiralink but I prefer drawing Zelink so I guess they're tied for OTP status

At one point I considered Peatrice/Zelda because. Starved for wlw content. But now I am Zelfi but also Orielle is really cute??? So idk

And then Hylia and Impa and possibly some one sided Ghirahim with an unhealthy obsession for Demise that he perceives as romantic for angst

#ask #just another tokyo ghoul fan #skyward sword #ghiralink #loz #nsft mention #zelink #hylimpa #hylia #impa #Ghirahim #link #zelda #cherryskywriting

[skyview-temple-spring]

Snow themed oneshot!

#skyward sword #legend of zelda #zelda #link #fi #ghirahim #zelfi #ghiralink #after the war au #cherryskywriting

[casiavium]

Fi did not return to the blade. She stayed still, watching her master return to the Goddess, desperate for council he would not receive. He would have to come to terms with leaving her behind if he were to go back to his world. She understood this. She was tired, and ready to sleep.

There was one last thing she had to do.

"I know you're watching." She addressed the empty space behind her. There was still no aura to be placed, but her calculations said there was a 90% chance he would be here.

From out of the shadows, stepped Ghirahim.

"So you're alive."

The words hung in the air between the two spirits. Fi still faced where Link had left, watching for his return.

"Just barely." The demon behind her whispered. He sounded worn down, struggling to hold on.

Fi wasn't sure what to do. Any knowledge about the other sword spirit was hidden from her, if she ever knew of him in the first place. All she had left were fading memories of battle records and empty spaces when Link had cut her off. To her, he was an enemy to dispatch of. Still, bits and pieces of conversations suggested otherwise.

She knew what she had to do, for Link's sake.

With a small gesture towards her sword, she asked, "You can feel him, can't you?"

The last traces of Demise's spirit were trapped within the blade, and if luck was on their side, they would never get out. However, they were still there. Fi was unsure if it was enough to keep a hold on the other sword, but if there was any possibility Ghirahim was still trying to follow the orders of Demise, she would never let him near Link.

"Nothing can release what is trapped in the sword." Finally, she turned, cold stare burning into the spirit behind her. Still in the same form as her, Fi could see the damage the Master Sword had done to him. Core cracked and exposing lava-like blood, limbs scattered with dents and scratches, dull patches of ash from lightning strikes he wasn't made to withstand... Demise's mistreatment of his weapon had led to his downfall.

The white eyes closed.

"Don't worry, I don't wish to. I had thought... I had thought he would be different."

"He didn't make you to think."

Ghirahim glanced back at her. "You're right. We're weapons. Tools to be used. Forced to follow the will of the gods," he scoffed, eyes wandering around the temple, "and you may have won, but you're no better off than me, are you? Still dying. Discarded by our creators."

Fi softly shook her head. "I may be. You have no master. What will you do now?"

"I can't last long like this." Ghirahim sighed, hand grazing over his gem. "I may have escaped Demise, but that just means... it's only a matter of time before I start to fade like you. If fate is kind, and it has no reason to be, I'll never wake back up. At least you know who your next master will be. Demise never thought to put such precautions on my blade."

"Link will be waiting for you."

Ghirahim almost missed her statement. Gaze snapping back to her, he looked confused.

"What?"

"I'll tell him to find you. In his time. You'll be healed by then, won't you?"

"Why?"

Fi turned back to where Link was talking to Zelda.

"He doesn't understand why, but he cares for you. He needs someone, but now that he knows his best friend is the goddess, he won't see her the same. It will be hard to trust their friendship, and nothing more will come of it. He wants more. You are not the best option, but... it's where his heart lies."

"Even after this?"

"Yes. 100% positive."

Fi could hear slight arguing from her master and the goddess. She knew their time here was coming to an end.

"He's wanted this for a while. I was worried to leave him alone after this, that he would start seeking out danger he wouldn't be able to handle. Our quest was not kind to him, but he will be reluctant to leave it behind. From you, he can have the sword he needs and the intamacy he wants. With no reason for you to harm his friends, he shouldn't have trouble controlling your darker side."

Ghirahim considered her reasoning. Making up his mind, he shook his head in acceptance, smiling back at Fi.

"You knew I was a sword, didn't you? You've thought about this for a while."

"I had reason to believe. You misspoke and included yourself in a statement referring to sword spirits, no other could posses your unwavering loyalty to a master such as Demise." She paused, remembering the few pieces of information she had saved.

"... I could never sense your aura. I don't believe Hylia wanted me getting any ideas. Free will is not something one generally wants in a weapon." She almost smiled.

"Is that... all you know of me?"

Ghirahim's question was never answered. The argument from behind the Gate of Time was dying down, so Fi started to explain her plan with more urgency.

"Wait for him somewhere he'll find you again. I'm sure you know of a place. I'll tell him not to fear your return. For him, it won't be much longer after this..."

"I can't wait another thousands of years." Ghirahim panicked, eyes widening at the prospect.

"It's not that bad. You need the time to heal. "

"Easy for you to say, you weren't alive for it! You weren't conscious!"

"And you won't be, either. You said so yourself. You'll start to fade soon, entering a rest that can only be broken when someone draws your blade again. Be sure Link will be the next."

Fi spoke harshly. If she had been human, she thought this would be what annoyance felt like. Changing her tone, she softly added, "It... doesn't hurt. Not like... becoming the sword."

"Tell me about it." Ghirahim replied sarcastically. He didn't take her comment seriously, before looking back to see the spirit looked uncharacteristically distressed.

"I wasn't supposed to remember that... I don't believe..." She muttered, drifting back from her blade.

"What do you remember?"

Her lack of response was telling enough. Hylia must have seen it as a mercy to take her memories, to leave her only with what she needed to help Link.

"Not... much. Not... anymore. It's... it's over."

Fi flickered, trying to keep from disappearing into the sword too soon. Looking back at spirit, she requested one last time, "Please, Ghirahim... take... care of him."

The other sword nodded, stepping back. He was ready to leave, but out from behind the Gate stepped Link.

The hero froze. The pair had a second of eye contact before the demon faded away into diamonds.

#sword spirit siblingsssss #Fi doesn't remember though #skyward sword fi #skyward sword #ghirahim #link #ghiralink #writing #the longer i look at this the more i hate it #it doesn't flow very well #I hope I'm better at writing now than when I wrote this #I'm not but. I can still hope #no I am I just have trouble seeing it #cherryskywriting

[casiavium]

"I would have thought you'd be more alert, hero."

Startled, Link twists around to see the demon behind him, sitting near the edge of the small island he chose to rest on. Everything about him is glowing in the moonlight, glossy and reflective. Almost metallic. It reminds Link of the first time he was visited unexpectedly by the demon lord, caught off guard and unprepared. He doesn't appear threatening, waving at him with a sharp grin, but that was how it had always started, wasn't it?

"What are you doing here?" Link asks incredulously, tensing but not reaching for his blade. The soft glow of the Master Sword is shining from his left, one somersault away. Warily, he shifts around to face Ghirahim.

"I'm checking in on you. Generally, it's considered rude to leave your partner bleeding after playing with them, even if you are enemies. I am a lord, you know. Such bad manners are unbecoming of someone of my station. I wouldn't want you think I was taking advantage of you!"

The demon winks, and Link feels his face heat up. Ignoring his teasing, his interrogation continues.

"How did you get up here anyway? Why are you even here?"

"I just told you, darling," (the word is hissed like a threat, an insult), "I'm making sure you're okay. Your world isn't out of my range of teleportation, it's just a bit of a stretch of my powers. You should feel honored I'm visiting."

Yeah, that's not exactly what he's feeling. Falling back into the grass, Link stares back up at the sky and snaps, "Well, I'm fine, so, you can leave now. Bye."

A soft rustle of the plants, and Ghirahim is laying next to him, watching as Link glares at the stars. The boy doesn't flinch when he reaches a hand out to trace aimless patterns over his chest.

"But I just got here," he pouts, smiling as Link huffs, "aren't you happy to see me?"

"No, not really. If you're here to fight me, I can't right now."

Turning his head away from Ghirahim, Link sighs out, "Not so soon, at least."

He's only mildly offended by the other's soft laugh. "I wasn't planning on it, but I'm ecstatic to know I would best you would I so choose."

Link doesn't respond, but doesn't try to get Ghirahim to leave again. He's confused, but the demon's presence is oddly comforting. If he has to guess, it is just because it feels good to not be alone.

"I see you have the Master Sword again."

Link nods, but won't respond to Ghirahim's attempt at small talk. The demon doesn't anger, disappointed as Link ignores him.

"It's strange, seeing her again. I thought I was the only one left from that era."

That catches his attention. He wants to know more about the first hero, he wants real answers, but at what cost?

"... tell me about it."

"What?"

"The first time 'round. Did you know the hero?"

Ghirahim smiles as Link turns back to face him, determined and demanding.

"Well, not personally. I don't believe there was ever a time I came in contact with him when I was... not with my master."

He pauses, bringing a finger to his chin.

"He came into play much later in the war, Hylia's secret weapon. He didn't do much, in the end, her majesty was the one to seal my master and he died in her arms. I did have the honor of dealing the fatal blow." Ghirahim grins, watching as Link squirms. "It was always more about how he'd use the Blade of Evil's Bane to finally kill the demon king, how he'd rise again along with the goddess in a new era."

"Tell me how I'm like him." Link scoots closer, reaching out to grab the Master Sword. He thought it was done with the power-ups, but no one has referred to it as the 'Blade of Evil's Bane' yet. Just another question no one will answer.

"Demanding, are we? Oh, I don't know. You both have yellow hair and green clothes. You share that hideous hat. You run stupidly into danger. You're constantly screaming." Ghirahim shrugs, coming up with what little similarities he can think of. He isn't lying, the only contact he had with the First Hero was as a sword. "I think what matters most is how you're not like him."

Link tilts his head, awkwardly brushing his bangs from his eyes. "How so?"

Sitting right next to him now, he is practically leaning against the other's side.

"Well, you're a lot smaller. Softer. You didn't suffer as he did. And I can tell you he didn't have this, or this, or this..." Ghirahim starts pointing out every freckle across the bridge of Link's nose with light taps. Scrunching up his face, the hero giggles.

"Your eyes are a different shade of blue. Your hair is the color of gold, not straw. Your lips are..." Ghirahim presses a light kiss to them, pondering just what Link's lips are. "...better. Much more kissable."

Sighing as he cups the hero's face, Ghirahim continues, "You're younger by a decade or so. You haven't given up. You're naïve, and hopeful, with a strength I wouldn't have thought possible. You're not simply fighting for your goddess and a people that imprisoned you unjustly, you're fighting for friends, family. You're more dangerous than he could ever wish to be." His voice drops low. They are so close, Link beaming with wonder, when Ghirahim whispers,

"Your death will be far grander than anything he could have ever dreamed of."

Sleepy eyes widen awake, and Link darts away abruptly. He can't bear to look at Ghirahim's predatory grin, to think of how one wrong move and he may meet his end at the demon's merciless blade. Ghirahim doesn't continue his comparison. They sit in silence, waiting for the other to make a move.

Ghirahim is the impatient one, done with Link's sulking first.

"Why are you out here anyway? It's late, I would think you would have returned to your bed by now."

"I can't fly at night. The evening patrol would be on my ass, and I already have a criminal record. I don't need to pay any more fines or repay my debts by selling my body—Not like that, I just meant through manual labor, asshole."

Link playfully shoves Ghirahim as the demon laughs, more genuine than Link has heard from him before. He looks so beautiful in the moonlight, face not marred by his usual insulting smirk. Link sighs as he watches the wind blow through his hair, uncovering the side of his face he so often kept hidden. Just for a moment, he can forget...

No. That is too dangerous.

Once Ghirahim has stopped laughing, moving out of range of Link's feeble attack, he looks back over at the scowling boy.

"The hero has a criminal record? Scandalous." He smiles at him, hoping Link will continue to play along with his flirting, but said hero rolls to face away. It was too much to hope they could get along. I shouldn't even be here, Ghirahim thinks, looking out past the clouds at the hero's home island, you can't fight fate.

With a more somber tone, Ghirahim addresses Link one last time.

"Still not going to tell me where the gate is?"

"No."

"It would make things a lot easier for the both of us."

"It would."

#ghiralink #ghirahim #link #skyward sword #writing #last minute decision to change the tense. I've been writing a lot in present tense lately #meant to queue that. oh well #cherryskywriting

[casiavium]

I've been editing old stuff instead of writing anything new so I'm going to post some of the parts of my fanfic that I don't hate and work well out of context!!

The crunch of leaves under Link's feet filled the forest, but for once, he wasn't afraid to alert others to his position. They were safe now.

Though it was hard to tell back in the perpetual springtime of Skyloft, time had passed since he fought Demise.

As the months wore on, the surface showed it. The stories of changing leaves and colder breezes that had been passed down for as long as anyone could remember turned out to be true. The world below was filled with brilliant reds and yellows, the air in Faron woods sharper than it had been before.

Link wasn't paying attention to where the path was leading him. He knew the woods well, even if they hadn't made the final move to the surface yet. He wasn't too worried about running into anything dangerous, as it seemed without a leader the bokoblins and moblins had vanished.

Though Faron appeared safe, Link wanted to wander farther. In the middle of their maps was a blank space where a kingdom once stood. He knew ruins laid there, hopefully with the answers to unsolved mysteries regarding gods and demons. Zelda wouldn't let him go alone, but the plans to move meant no one could be spared.

He sighed out loud, stopping in front of a fallen log. He didn't know the area beyond it very well, down a tunnel that looked like it was leading to a canyon. He really should turn back, people would start to worry. Climbing up the log onto the ledge, Link looked back out over the forest.

He wasn't familiar with the area. If he turned around now, he could head straight back the way he came, and be sure to end up at the Sealed Temple. Zelda was waiting for him there, discussing the future of both the surface and Skyloft with Groose. He had said he would be right back, he just needed a minute to get some air. They'd be looking for him soon...

Beyond the tunnel, a faint noise rang through the canyon. Link whipped around, sure he had imagined it. He hadn't heard the soft sound of bells for three months, not since he had left the Master Sword to rest in the past. Wandering farther down the path, Link ignored the instinct to head back.

He had been here before. A long time ago, now. Though the walls of the canyon hid it, Link knew a temple was sitting at the end, surrounded by a grove of trees and wildflowers unlike any others on the surface. The winding path dropped off abruptly in places, fraying rope the only way to cross.

It was dangerous. Alone, if something were to happen to him, he would be trapped. Not expecting to adventure today, he only carried a simple training sword.

At the bend of the path, a shadowy figure flickered at the edge of Link's vision. The chime rang through the canyon again, this time a little louder. When he turned to face the figure head on, the shadow disappeared.

Something was wrong, Link thought, as he felt himself follow the shadow. He had done this before, at the beginning of his quest, with Fi, but this time... the energy that was calling to him felt different. Like it wasn't meant for him. He still followed.

Link almost lost his balance crossing a rope bridge when the shadow appeared at the end. It was small, dark, and still. He couldn't recognize the outline, a vague humanoid, but the chime it sent out sounded so familiar he couldn't ignore it. A soon as he corrected himself, it was gone.

As he followed the path, Link began to worry. He could have been hallucinating the apparition, but more than likely, it was leading him somewhere. A thought crossed his mind that it was guiding him to certain death, luring in a victim with a false sense of security. At the back of his mind, probably the worst thing to have in this situation, was hope.

The similarities to Fi, but darker, different... Link knew it was dangerous to wish for, but he was praying to Hylia the shadow figure was Ghirahim, calling to him as his own sword once had. He knew the spirit was alive, he saw him, Fi told him to find Ghirahim again, but it had been three months. There was no sign of the demon, no idea of where to even start, and Link was close to giving up.

As the shadow appeared in and out of his vision, Link continued down the path leading to Skyview Temple. Soon, he found himself at the front steps, staring up at the building before him.

He really should head back now, get backup or at least a better sword. He had actually turned to leave, but there it was again, the shadowy figure in the corner of his vision. At the entrance to the temple, it flickered, beckoning him inside.

Despite his better judgement, Link followed. There shouldn't have been any bokoblins to deal with, and though his sword was not the best, it would hold up against skulltullas well enough. The temple hadn't changed, and Link was lucky to find every door left unlocked from the last time he had been there.

At the end of the maze of passages, Link once again came to the broken bridge, the room taken over by vines and trees. Across the chasm, the shadow waited in front of the golden door, a dark contrast to the scattered glow of stray mushroom spores.

This was the first time he was able to look at it head on. The figure stood as tall as the keyhole, touching the floor but almost floating as it waited for him. It wasn't solid, a few glowing dots drifting through its body, and as each second passed Link could swear it was getting dimmer.

He couldn't say how much time was spent staring ahead. The figure blinked out of existence once more, and Link finally moved to follow it. The rope before him shook under his weight, and he nearly lost his balance a few times, but he had made it to the other side.

The large door was still unlocked, and open by just a sliver. Drawing his sword, Link pushed through.

Nothing had changed. The empty room stood before him, shattered pieces of pottery from the last fight that took place lining the edges. There was no figure, no demon nor sword waiting for him.

Link lowered his blade. He hadn't expected anything, really, but the confirmation of his fears stung. The sunlight had been very bright outside, the figure must have been a mirage his tired brain kept conjuring. Even so, he felt it would be a good idea to let the others know in case of some sinister new enemy. Placing his sword back in the scabbard, Link turned to leave.

"Did you really just sheathe your sword? Foolish boy."

At the voice, Link spun around with a racing heart. Across the room, where they had first met, Ghirahim was waiting for him.

"Hello, Link."

He looked the same as when Link last saw him. Taller than he was used to, eerily similar to Fi, glowing core exposed. He looked less worn down, but signs of battle were still etched onto his skin, cracks in the gem revealing the glow underneath. His hand held onto the sword, nearly as tall as Link, a reflection of the demon himself.

"It's been a while."

"It has." Link whispered in response, scared to walk closer and break the spell. "What took you so long?"

"Me?" Ghirahim scoffed. "I've been waiting here for you. I thought you'd come back eventually."

Link was confused. Looking back over his shoulder, he had the strange feeling of being watched. "So you weren't the shadow?"

"I don't know what you mean. Does it matter? You're here now."

Still wary, Link turned his attention back to Ghirahim. "I... yes. What... what happens now?"

Ghirahim twisted the sword in his hand. Picking it up, he walked towards Link, offering the blade to him. "That is up to you. I was under the impression you no longer have a sword, correct?"

Link absentmindedly brought his hand up to the training weapon. "Yeah."

"You are a swordsman in need of a blade. I am a blade in need of a master. Surely you see how we can solve these problems?"

Link stared at the black blade in front of him. He had imagined this day for months now, wanting nothing more, but he had never told anyone. Hesitation at taking the weapon clouded his mind. It would be difficult to explain.

"... what exactly does this mean?"

Growing frustrated, Ghirahim snapped, "You've had months to think about it. It's no different than your old spirit, and I promise, if you still worry that I may try to hurt you or your precious spirit maiden, this is the only way you could stop me."

At the mention of Zelda, Link stiffened. She wouldn't react well to this. Yet, Ghirahim had a point. Under his command, Ghirahim wouldn't hurt anyone. Fi had seemed okay with the idea, encouraged him to take it, even. He had been through so much... he deserved this one thing, at least.

"I'll take it."

"Good."

Reaching out for the blade, Link closed his eyes as he grasped the cold hilt. His fingers brushed against Ghirahim's for a moment, before the spirit was gone. Cracking an eye open, Link watched as the sword glowed, red flames lighting the room as it changed before his eyes. Just as when using the sacred flames on the Goddess Sword, the blade transformed under his grip, fitting to his palm and becoming much easier to handle.

The final form was smaller, the edges of the blade smoother. It looked similar to the Master Sword, yet rougher at the edges and still distinctly Ghirahim. Link lifted the newly transformed blade to the light, watching the last of the flames fall away.

Behind him, a hand rested on his waist. This time when Ghirahim leaned over his shoulder, tongue flicking out by his ear, Link did not flinch away. He was pulled against the other's body as that tongue traced his jaw, lips stopping to rest on his neck. Cold against his skin, he could feel them move as Ghirahim whispered,

"It will be a pleasure to serve you, Master."

#I want to delete this fic but the problem is it's the first in a series :/ and while the second one works on its own #I had one person say they'd be sad if I deleted the first so it's still up but it's hanging on by a thread #edited so its less cringey but also I can't read past cht 1 without feeling like crying #ghiralink #what's the point of writing niche fanfic you want if you can't even read it when it's done #this is why when I say I want this fic to exist I mean I want someone else to write it because I want to read it. not write it #I can't read it if I write it!!! it's no fun #skyward sword #link #ghirahim #cherryskywriting

[casiavium]

For a minute, when he kisses him, he is kissing sky blues eyes and golden hair, freckles dotted across permanently sunburned cheeks—but he is gone. This is not him.

After this one, Ghirahim never messes with a hero again.

#part of something I will write eventually #once i get arthritis meds and can move my left pointer finger again lmao #i go from existential dread to ghiralink in two minutes #ghiralink #skyward sword #Hyrule Warriors #cherryskywriting #ghirahim