Hakvrei's Magical Shrine

Halito, everyone! Apologies for missing out on my Friday post yesterday; grandparents were visiting, and I had a major migraine that didn't go away until last night, so I'll have to post next Friday! All in all, this week has been busy, so I haven't had much of a chance to post or write! That's why this week's snippet will be from something old!

Anyway, let's get into it!

“You have fallen.”

Deep, husky, and full of venom, Ganondorf's voice carries through the air, reaching Link from where he lays, defeated. Underneath him, a puddle of blood, mixing together with the gloom that has carefully crept his way. All around them is the essence of Ganondorf's powers, a miasma shrouding Link's vision to obscure the beast that stands before his rotting corpse, kanabō in hand.

But I can still do this, Link thinks—he is fighting to keep that last bit of hope within himself, his right hand trembling as he brings it out. All he needs to do is crawl forward; all he needs to do is retrieve the Master Sword and use the power of Hylia to strike down his foe. There is no greater strength than belief, leading all men to victory in battles. Had Ganondorf not had faith then he would not have overpowered Link and sent him collapsing against the ground.

With that analogy in mind, how is it that Link can't haul himself up and reach the sword that seals all evil? The answer he receives, though not from the universe, seems to be cruel and unrelenting—a way to torture him and remind him of the weak, frail creature he is on the inside. Punishments don't often come easy, and this one is no exception, for he knows it is his punishment for neglecting to take care of the inside of himself.

“I'd say I'm surprised, but when it comes to a,” Ganondorf dusts himself off, covered in specks of blood across his abdominal wrap that come from Link's own flesh. “Mortal like yourself...” And that remark alone carries disgust heavy within itself, slapping Link in the face while he is already down. “I have come to expect nothing but weakness.” He starts his approach like a wolf on the prowl, circling around Link with a smirk that glows in the darkness of the Depths.

Predators like to play with their food, tossing it in the air and shaking it in their mouths before eating it whole. The way he stalks towards him is nothing short of malicious and intimidating, Link's desperate eyes trailing his every move. Every rise and fall of his chest; every twitch and jerk that he made; and every subtle look toward the crumpled up hero.

Elated, but keeping it contained for the sake of decorum—Ganondorf finally stops at his side, a sneer being shot his way. Link can't roll on his side to get a better look, forced to turn his head to where he's laying against one cheek, his breaths labored in his weak, frail chest. He wants to get back up; he wants to grab the Master Sword and do what he is destined to do. Now isn't the time to reflect on what he wants to do when he cannot even gather the mere courage to move.

Oceanic irises lock onto the Demon King while he tosses his kanabō to the side, careless and thoughtless, almost as if he deems it an unnecessary weapon to keep close at his side when his foe is lying, broken, before his own two feet. “Look at the state of you... Frail. Tainted. Almost enough to make a grown man cry,” he teases, because Link knows it isn't sincere. Why would his nemesis find it in himself to care about the state of Link? He grits his teeth, somewhat of a miracle when one takes into account the lethargic being of the hero.

I'm excited to share this one! This is actually part of the fic I entered to this year's contest and won first place for! Now, I will say, this fic in its entirety probably will never be finished, but I can try to explain part of it and why I likely won't finish it.

This fic started out as my Hakvrei twist on the typical Link torture fic. I wanted to try my hand at physical torture that didn't include gratuitous rape for the sake of being edgy, and with what I had written, I felt it was pretty good. I'm really glad that this won first place, and while it reaffirmed my confidence in this fic (seeing as professional authors are the judges of the contest), I eventually fell out of love with the fandom and decided to only work on two more fics before taking a swan dive into Sefikura.

Maybe someday I will come back to it and pour my soul into it, but as it stands, this is just an unfinished WIP that will remain in the backlogs until I get that itch. I think it has potential but... I just don't have a place in that fandom anymore, so I don't think I'll share it with them LOL.

Okay, first off, this scene drives me absolutely insane because they're just standing together and being GAY. Thank you, Lord, for blessing us with toxic Sefikura yaoi that is CANON. And double thanks for giving Cloud piercings because they look AMAZING on him ^ 3 ^

Not many ramblings for today, but I think I will expand on the relatability + mental headcanons I have for the both of them.

Obviously, Cloud is "mentally ill" in FFVII and Sephiroth, too, but it's scary to me just how accurate and realistic they both are, even with the J-Cells and the concept of Reunion taking precedence over all. I really appreciate the careful handling of their mental states and how it's portrayed in the game, including the others' reactions to these symptoms/signs. It really made me feel seen, as not a lot of media represents my other disorder in a way that isn't "haha get it, this character is psycho as shit!"

Square Enix made two characters that are better representation than any sort of shit I've seen on television or online for this disorder. I think that's why I'm so drawn to their dynamic; it truly captures how my internal dynamic with myself feels without me having to say it. The desperation to be one, the belittling and morphing of memories to fit a certain narrative that Jenova/the disorder wants you to believe, and the feeling of being broken; a monster; and not yourself throughout it all. It's all so gripping and has me crying some days because it's perfection at its finest.

And using the above GIF as an example: when Cloud finally gets the Black Materia and gives it to Sephiroth, it feels all too similar to things I've done. The disorder calling out for me to gather "evidence" to bring back to support its narrative, and once I've found it and given it, then is when the narrative becomes a hardcore belief. Then, the aftermath, where I feel defeated and like I've succumbed to a beast ready to destroy the world/my world, only for me to do it all over again.

Sephiroth, too, is relatable for me. The finding out of his origins, the existential crisis it gives him, and then his eventual decline into villainy, destroying all of Nibelheim to feel something; to take out his anger and become what Shinra wanted him to be, albeit not on purpose. These destructive patterns in Sephiroth and Cloud are comforting yet horrifying at the same time, because it reminds me of what I've spent 4 years trying to overcome.

It's cathartic to see these two and write about them, but I don't think the antis complaining about Sefikura being toxic don't think or give a single second to the impact these two might have and the comfort they may bring for someone who needs it. Then again, anti shit is ridiculous and dumb in general, so there's that LOL. What do I expect? (Nothing, and I'm still disappointed)

That's pretty much the only ramble for today. Thanks for listening!