Echoes of Laughter
By KinkSaber
Like many of their previous reincarnations, the hero Link wielded the sword of evil’s bane and brought it downwards on Ganondorf as the two locked in fierce, unrelenting battle. Fire and ice dragon-danced between the two arch nemesis and sparks ignited from the clash of holy metal against armor of bones. The air was filled with neurotoxin that would bring instant death to anyone, but through the sheer will of courage, and dressed in the blessings of the goddesses and the great fairy, the green-tunic hero continued to stand in the turmoil of battle. The final battle.
“Accursed spirit of the hero.” Ganondorf spat as he uttered the words that tasted of molten sulfur in his mouth. “And the damnable blood of the goddess. This time, the flesh of Demise will crush you.”
“Give up, Ganondorf.” Zelda’s eyes were closed, as were her hands by her breast. Aura of light cloaked her and rendered his dark powers useless before the princess. “We will win. We always have, and we always will. You cannot break us – the darkness is not strong enough – it never was and never will be.”
“You underestimate the triforce of power, little goddess.” Ganondorf smirked as he raised his hand into the air. Black lightning struck his arm and the energy transformed into a part of the demon king. He would redirect it back at the princess – and he knew that with the power of the triforce under his command, it would break the aura that shielded the princess. His arm swung towards her, but out of the corner of his eye the pesky green gremlin put himself between the two and wrought off the attack with the mere unsheathing of his sword. The black lightning scattered, and the miasma thickened. “Hero..!”
He was silent, as he always had been. The light glimmered off the side of his blue-glow blade. Ganon thought he had the upper hand, but then noticed a tiny fairy escape from a small glass bottle and healed the pointy-eared twink of the scratches and scrapes of his knees. Refilled with the magic of the fairies, the hero’s blade practically sparkled.
An arrow of light raced towards him, and a quick flicker of his wrist deflected it. Weak. Almost laughably so. The goddess of this era had not matured, nor had her power been fully awakened. It barely tickled him as a feather did. Ganondorf learned – hundreds of thousands of years ago he had made the same mistake. The hero was on the verge of death, and in his last breath the princess would unleash all that golden light inside her. No. He would have to get rid of her, first. The sword alone would not be enough to vanquish him. Not anymore. Not without the added seal of the goddess – and as long as the goddess’ power was not freely commanded by the young princess, he was invincible.
That was what Ganondorf believed.
The princess fired another arrow of golden light towards him. Brighter, yes; not as luminous as the sun or fiery as the embers of hell or the lava beneath of earth. He felt no power behind it. The demon king smirked and deflected it once more, towards the hero that charged in. The target changed. The light was out for Link’s head.
Ganondorf thought he had won, but you know what they say – don’t count your cuckoos until they attack.
The hero turned into a blur of green as he parried the deflected arrow of light, and spurned his momentum into a flurry rush. In a split second, Link closed within inches of Ganondorf, and the sword of evil’s bane was thrusted inside his abdomen. It was when they were face to face that he saw the stars in the silent hero’s eyes – or, rather, the lack of it. There was no twinkle, nor did he feel the strike of the triforce through the penetration of the master sword. There was something amiss. His body should have been torn asunder, ripped to shreds, and reduced to shadow and ash with the attack, but he did not. A sharp pain shot through his body and he buckled to his knees. Link retrieved the sword, and from the holy regalia sizzled unholy blood that was thick and black as tar.
“Oh goddesses! Grant me the power to banish the source of all malice and gloom!” The princess shouted as the aura of light enveloped her expanded through the battleworn castle. Every corner was engulfed by a flood of golden glow, and as the miasma was purified Ganondorf stood confused. He should be banished, but he was not. Though pierced, the wound was little more than a papercut for someone as powerful as him – and neither the glow of the little immature goddess-blood nor the power of her feared sword damaged him. “Be sealed through time, O wicked king of monsters! Let your powers be no more!!”
Ganondorf thought the burning sensation inside him was from the temporary sword wound, and so when it persisted through the malice fuelled healing the demon king turned to look. His flesh had sutured itself together and the bleeding had stopped, but the fire inside his body only grew more intense.
“Is that your play, princess?” Ganondorf crackled. “To seal my powers? Your predecessors had already tried it – sealed me under one castle or another for a handful of years. And what became of him? A restless ghost, doomed to walk the ancient sky islands until another hero arose to finish what he could not. You are merely kicking the pottery down the road, foolish goddess.”
“And I will not repeat Rauru’s accidental oversight.” The princess calmly wielded the golden power in her frail, white hands. “Every generation henceforth, we will restrengthen the seal. So long as your flesh persists, you will neither be freed nor reincarnate – nor will the spirit of the hero and the blood of the goddess rest – but that is a sacrifice we are willing to make if it is a means to end your reign of terror for good, Ganondorf!”
“We will see, won’t we?” Ganondorf fell to the ground as his magical strength drained from him. With one last exhale the demon king cast a final curse – a trump card. Unlike his magical attacks, this one was invisible and uncounterable – and in the very same manner that Demise once had set the motion of Hyrule’s cylindrical destiny in place. “Your hero will be corrupted, princess – and he will seek to free me! It is only a matter of time!”
The last thing he saw before he passed out was the sight of the triforce of power robbed from his right hand, and the searing pain as if his soul had a piece torn from it.
—
By all accounts, Ganondorf thought he would be finished off once he had lost consciousness, but he was still very much alive. Too alive. Disgustingly alive. He felt the heat of the small fire and the cool of stone against his skin. He felt the moisture in his breath and the itch in his scalp. The stench of stale air filled his nose. He blinked several times and his eyes adjusted to the darkness in which he found himself embraced in. Dim lights emanated from the wall scones of enchanted wax. It took the demon king several more moments to compose himself and recall his memories.
He recognized the room. It was the very same dungeon in the lowest part of the depths beneath Hyrule castle, where another one of his incarnations had spent innumerable eons trapped, with the mummified hand of the sage of light that kept his powers sealed and clutched to his chest. Broken pillars still littered the place, but the shrine seemed intact.
“...Like I said before, blink of an eye, princess.” Ganondorf chuckled to himself. He felt powerless, but it would not take long for them to return. As long as darkness and hatred remained in the hearts of ordinary people, his powers always would.
Ganondorf pulled at his stiff body and it was only then he discovered how immobile he had become. His arms were lifted and inserted into the bedrock behind where his head rested, bent in a way that prevented the collection of strength in his muscles and the flexibility of his joints. His hands were balled into fists and trapped, each individual finger caught in something that prevented the most basic of movements. The demon king focused on his right hand, and felt the emptiness from it. His triforce of power had been stolen from him. Anger and rage boiled his blood. That was his birthright, as was his right to rule. He would tear the hero and the goddess into pieces with his bare hands once he escaped his imprisonment.
The more he struggled, the more he found it futile. His blood red hair fell against his jet black skin. No matter how much he pulled, he made no progress. The demon king sought to borrow strength from his lower body, but similarly his legs were extended in front of him. The ankles that used to be decorated by gold and jewels were now shackled by enchanted stones of Hylian origin, chained to the slab of obsidian stone that he was satirically enthroned upon. Ganondorf groaned. He assumed the same seals were placed on his wrists.
From the glow of the small magical fires, Ganondorf searched around with his eyes and found there was, in fact, nothing he could use to free himself. Not a drop of malice, not a drop of gloom to take control of. He can’t sense a single drop of magic that wasn’t built to bind him. It was still too early for the demon king to give up. He looked again, and there he saw it.
Two statues. No. Too life-like to be statues. It was the accursed hero and that damnable goddess in the flesh. Each one had sacrificed themselves, frozen in magical crystal pillars that oozed with the power of golden light, enchanted to keep him there forever. It was more powerful than the seal that Rauru had grappled with in his previous life. Their battle-wounds had already healed, and Ganondorf corrected extrapolated that they must have been the architects of his prison before the two gave themselves up to stand guard over him, just as Rauru had made the choice. The two pillars and the throne of stone were equally distanced from each other, and on the floor was a grand magical circle carved directly into the earth itself. It still faintly glowed with the lingering power of the goddesses.
All he needed was a drop. A single drop of malice, and he would free himself. He thirsted for the drop. Ravenous for it. He would corrupt the seal with but a single crack, and from that crack it would be inevitable for the demon king to attain freedom – no matter how many millenia it would take.
A light flickered in the corner of his vision, and that was enough to grab his attention. A pathetic torch, carried by an equally pathetic, hooded man. A guard to check on him. Ganondorf smiled to himself. That was the chance he needed – a simple passing Hylian to corrupt.
“Come closer, knight.” The demon king rasped from his perched-dry throat. “Let me bathe in the warmth of your fire for but a brief minute.”
“Awake, are you?”
It was a voice that was familiar to him. Too familiar. No. It could not be.
“Who are you?” The demon king questioned with authority. His eyes tacked onto the short statured man as the light of that torch came closer and closer, until the Hylian stood by the feet of the horizontal throne and the light of the torch revealed his facial features. The Hylian removed his hood and blonde hair flowed from his head. “..You! How can this be?! You’re inside that crystal pillar!”
“I am, evidently, not.” The man spoke. There was something twisted about him, but without his powers Ganondorf could not tell why the hair on the back of his neck stood and goosebumps raised on his skin. The power of the triforce of courage was not inside this man, and neither wisdom nor power, and yet he had the gall to look the demon king up and down, from the top of his head to the tip of his toes. “All this for one helpless old man – I wonder, if it is even necessary.”
“Release me, and you’ll have your answer – as the accursed hero did.” Ganondorf summoned his power to corrupt the man, but not a molecule of it was exerted. No. He was bone dry.
“That guy, huh?” The man looked over to his doppelganger. “What’s up with you dinosaurs and hanging on to the past, hmm? It’s been five hundred years. Get over it, Ganondork.”
“So you do know who I am.”
“By name and legend, yes.” The unimpressed man rolled his eyes. “The demon king, destroyer of the world, reincarnation of the demon Demise. And those two, the spirit of the hero and the blood of the goddess, entombed alive to keep you isolated here – and as it has been prophesied, the current princess Zelda and yours truly.”
“I don’t see a sword on you.” Ganondorf goaded. “Such faith in the power of light to keep me shackled.”
“It would be unchivalrous against an unarmed, broken, helpless old man.”
“And such bravery. Your name?”
“Link.”
“You’ve failed to surprise me.” Ganondorf chuckled. “And you are the hero of this era? I’ve never seen such a scrawny knight.”
“I’m not a knight. I’m a barista.”
“And what will coffee do for you when my power returns, hero?”
“Keep me awake while you continue that silly daydream, I suppose.” Link pointed towards the two crystal pillars. “For five hundred years we’ve not seen so much as a bokoblin tooth nor a blood moon. No monsters. No curses. The world is at peace – relatively. Whatever those two did, they’ve managed to purify every single ounce of dark power inside you before it’s even taken form.”
“You have been most enlightening, hero.” Ganondorf said sarcastically. “And you don’t seem to be surprised I’m awake after – what’d you say? Five hundred years?”
“..You don’t remember the other times you’ve been awake?” Link asked.
“.. No.”
That was troubling. He did not recall. The very last memory he had was the despicable faces of the two that were now eternally trapped in the same room with him.
“Well, worry not. Let’s get you to bed, grandpa.”
Ganondorf watched as the hero of the era removed his hooded cloak as it fell to the floor. The style of clothes was not one that he recognized, but the emerald green upon just about every aspect of it continued to persist. A green shirt that was two sizes too large; a denim style pants that showed off the hero’s thin, skinny legs; and the brown leather sandals that accentuated Link’s long, pretty toes. A bag was strapped around Link’s shoulder, which ended in a bag that hung from the hero’s side, from which the hero produced a large feather that some sort of magic powder had been sprinkled on.
“..What’s that?” Ganondorf glared at Link, but despite the direction of murderous intent, it didn’t phase the young Hylian at all.
“A tried and true method to drain your excess energy so you’ll behave and sleep for another hundred years – and be someone else’s problem then.”
“Don’t you dare..!” Ganondorf warned, but it was just as easily dismissed by the hero, who bought the tool towards Ganondorf’s feet. It was then that the demon king realized just how exposed and vulnerable he was. He had never considered whether his feet were ticklish until the moment where the feather was merely an inch from his sole.
It was indignant for someone as powerful as him, to feel the stroke of a feather across the arch of his foot. He felt an instant recoil where he wanted to withdraw his bare, exposed foot, which was meaty and as large as the Hylian’s face. The demon king gasped when he realized how sensitive his foot was. That was impossible. It had never been so.
“Scared of a little feather?” The smug hero laughed. Ganondorf felt the humiliation that burned on his cheeks. “Seriously? The demon king that our parents said would eat children if we misbehaved, ticklish by a feather? That’s the funniest shit I’ve heard in my life!”
“I will tear your head from your body, hero – and – ekeh!”
Silence fell between the two when they both heard the giggle that escaped from between the demon king’s lips. Another stroke up the obsidian arch and Ganondorf realized how much trouble he was in. His body trembled as the feather made it a routine, and several more strokes later, Ganondorf felt the strength drained from his leg.
“Wh-what did you do?!” The demon king demanded.
“Enchanted feather.” Link twirled the plumb in Ganondorf’s face. “Didn’t think it was real – but now I see. Every other part of the legend was true, so why should this be the exception, hmm?”
“..What legend, exactly?”
“Heh heh heh! Why don’t you find out for yourself?” Link chuckled and swiped the feather across Ganondorf’s toes. Each of the ends of those soft, tensile barbs dragged itself across the demon king’s pedal digits and the tingles lingered across the surface of his obsidian skin. Ganondorf gasped once more, and then squeezed his lips together to hold in the involuntary reaction he felt bubble up from inside him.
“Coochie coochie coo..!” Link teased in a sing-song tone, when he realized that Ganondorf had tried his best to compose himself. He was, after all, the hero; and he was there to vanish the demon king, as fate had dictated. “Don’t hold it in, Ganondork – let it all out!”
“N-no!”
At his refusal, Link swiped the feather across Ganondorf’s toes again, then slotted the devious tool between those digits that could no longer curl to protect themselves. They sat there, limp and lifeless as each drag of the magic feather drained more of Ganondorf’s energy. Although no bondage equipment existed beyond the shackle at his ankle, Ganondorf felt as though each of his toes had been bound by magic, immobile, and his sole became more vulnerable as the seconds ticked by.
“Well, then, I guess we’ll just have to find out for ourselves how ticklish the demon king’s toes actually are, don’t we?” Link pushed and pulled the feather as it sawed between the big and second toe, and Ganondorf just about lost it.
“Heh heh heh he– no! Cease!”
Link blew at the feather and activated the spells woven into it. The plume between his fingers came to life and wormed between each of Ganondorf’s immobile toes on its own accord, more lifelike than any monster that the demon king could have summoned from the depths of his malice. Each barb controlled as dexterously as fingers, the feather crawled and burrowed itself between each of the demon king’s pedal digits as Ganondorf’s face turned flushed, his lips parted as the floodgates had been opened. He couldn’t control the laughter that spilled from his chest.
“Eheh heh heeeh heeeh heeeeh!! Cease! Cease! Cee–hee heee heee-heeease!”
His demands went unmet; and if anything it stirred something within Link. He had always thought Ganondorf was attractive for his build; but now that he had the upper hand over the prisoner, feelings of arousal and eroticism grew from between his legs.
Yes, it was the curse of corruption that bound the spirit of the hero five hundred years ago. Ganondorf still had not figured this out – nor would he; as the egotistical demon king would never have thought his spell could go awry. His waned power could not complete the curse as he originally intended. The hero would not fall to darkness; but instead to selfish desires of the flesh.
The corruption in Link’s mind took root with each second he spent with Ganondorf. There was an inexplicable attraction that Link had never felt the same way towards anyone else, including the princess. No. That was merely loyalty to the crown and a sense of duty to be fulfilled for his role as the hero. Towards Ganondorf, though, there was an intense desire – not just to subjugate, but to defeat and conquer as light conquered the darkness. That desire itself was what was being corrupted, twisted, masqueraded.
From his bag Link produced a wooden hairbrush. It was one that he kept on him at all times to ensure he kept his appearance the best at all times, but now it’d seem the hairbrush would serve a new purpose. The coarse horsehair that made up the bristles looked so enticing to try on the demon king’s immobile soles, and it took Link no second thoughts to test the cruel device against that jet, obsidian skin.
“Bwahahha!! W-what are you – CEASE! Cease at once! Cease this maa-haa-haa-haadness!”
A simple circular turn forced a sharp exhale from the demon king’s nostrils, and Link smirked. The hero knew how much trouble the demon king was in now. While the feather still wormed between Ganondorf’s toes, Link took the opportunity to double up the torment with an intense, rapid scrub. He pressed the bristles against that sole directly, and then with his free hand pulled back the demon king’s toes until the arch was completely taut and helpless. Ganondorf’s eyes grew wide when he realized that his feet no longer listened to his autonomic command; and that they stayed in the position the hero forced them in.
“No! No no no no nonononoNONONONONONO!!”
It was close enough to a plea, and the fact that the demon king demeaned himself to begging the hero for mercy made Link feel so much bigger than the buff, muscular Gerudo.
“NOOOHOHO HOH HOH HOHHHH!! ACCURR-HHUR-HURSED HEE-HEERO!”
The hatred and anger inside Ganondorf burned and raged, but as soon as they came into existence, the grand array of golden magic that showered the two dissipated them; and in their place the transformed energy became the laughter that was forcibly expelled from the demon king’s lungs. His ebony face flushed with heat and the corner of his wide-grinned mouth became sore; his pupils dilated and his eyes were wet with ticklish tears. The hero diligently scrubbed those stretched soles for all they were worth, and Ganondorf had never felt so helpless, so defeated in his life – with not a sword but the common hairbrush for the vain, self-obsessed pretty boy.
“That’s right, laugh for me!” Link smirked as he redoubled his grip on the handle of the hairbrush. “You find this soooo funny, don’t you? Because I do! The demon king reduced to laughter by having his sensitive, soft feet brushed! Aha ha ha! I couldn’t think of anything funnier than this!”
“CUR-HUR-SE YOU! AHA-HAH HAH HAH HAHHHH!! CURSE YOU, HE-HE HE-HE ROOOOHHH HOH HOH!!”
Ganondorf’s torso buckled and shook while he still could, as it was not the case for his legs from his thighs to his knees. Even his arms felt like tofu from his elbow down, as if he had been paralyzed, but he still felt every last bristle that brushed across his sensitive ebony skin. The demon king gasped for air between each outburst of involuntary, uncontrollable laughter; he was getting out of breath, and it made him feel weak. Small, even. Dwarfed by his tormentor, who looked so small in comparison, but loomed over him like a tower. The lights from the magical candles backlit the hero, and Ganondorf could see no features other than the hunger in his eyes and the smirk of his lips. The Hylian’s face was cloaked in shadow and darkness, and for the first time in his unnaturally long moral life, Ganondorf felt fear when he saw the crazed, obsessed features. It oozed out of his pores and escaped his body with every exhale; it rode on his laughter; and it was wordlessly unspeakable to the demon king. He was the lord of terror, the ultimate evil – and yet, he was scared of the unknown, of the unpredictable hero of light.
“Laugh for me, my weak, helpless little demon king!” Link cooed with pursed lips. He kept one hand on the brush handle while the other reached inside the bag to retrieve a wand of some sort. A metallic wand. It was cold to the Hylian’s hand, and colder still to the demon king’s sole. It did not take long for the tool to make unwanted contact against Ganondorf’s feet, which seemed to grow more sensitive as time passed. Ganondrof’s mind had no free resources to set aside or dedicate to analysis. In his prime he would have understood that it was, indeed, the golden power of the goddesses that had weakened him – and had made him sensitive and vulnerable to every touch of the twisted hero’s game. All he knew was just how ticklish his taut, stretched sole was, and how he wanted it all to end.
But that would be mercy, and mercy is, unlike his predecessors, not in the nature of the corrupted hero of the era of calm tides.
“Laugh your little head off, Ganondork!”
“GYAH HAH HAH HAH HAHHHHH!! CCEEE-HEEE HEE HEE HEEASE THIS NAAAAH HAAH HAAH HAAH SENSE!”
“Such big, ticklish feet you got..! Ahaha!” The brush scrubbed one exposed sole as the tip of that ornamentally decorated wand scratched the other. The sapphire gem atop it told Ganondorf it was a magic wand of ice, but there was nothing he could do to resist. He had once stepped in hellfire without so much as a singe, but now the wand’s magic wrecked the skin that was akin to armor. The coolness of the ice magic seeped into him, and it made his already tender sole even more so. The power of ice echoed wherever they touched, and the difference in temperature made him ultra-aware of every last scrape, every last trail, every last touch that the hero inflicted upon him.
The tools traded hands and the arrival of the brush on his ice-toyed sole nearly pushed the demon king over the edge. He saw stars. A temporary blindness washed over him as he thought he had passed out, but the spell that bound him there would not make it so easy for him to escape the torment. It kept him healed just enough for the weak little thing to stay conscious, but not so much that it would allow him to recover his true strength. The brush scrubbed as it always did, directed by the hand of the accursed hero whom Ganondorf loathed. That smile forced on the demon king’s face was so unlike the relishing smile of the hero who stood by his helpless soles.
“GYAHHAA HAA HAAA HAAAHHH!! NOOO HOH HOH HOH MORE! NO HOH MORE!”
“We’ve just begun playing, Ganondork!” Link dropped the wand and the brush as the two tools fell to the ground. Two new toys replaced them soon enough. A miniature trident from the Zora tribe and some sort of stone-rake from the Goron tribe. Each took target with one of Ganondorf’s soles and Link dragged them up and down that beautifully curved arch until ticklishly red lines appeared on Ganondorf’s soft, onyx black skin. The trident lubricated the skin of his sole as Ganondorf powerlessly absorbed the moisturizer, while the flame-enhanced rake of death mountain ‘massaged’ his sole with a penetrative heat until all the blood vessels, nerves, and muscles in his sole were fully awakened. The heat itched and pricked him without damage, and the lotion made his skin more receptive to the torment that laid ahead. And then Link switched again.
“MERRR-CII-HII-HII!” Ganondorf broke down and begged as his mind was scrambled. Scratch, scratch, scratch. The tools did not slow, but the demon king’s perception of time did. He felt every last twitch of the pitch of the trident against his skin and the jerky trails of the rake down his arches. The more Link toyed with his feet, the more open his mind was to accept the tickle torture. He wanted it to stop. Piece by piece the demon king abandoned his ego, his hope, his pride, and his dignity. “PLEEE–HEE–HEE HEEE HEEASE! MERCY!! MEERR-HUR-CY!! I BEG YOU, I BEG YOUU-HOO-HOO!”
“No.”
The answer made Ganondorf’s pathetic excuse of a heart sank to the depths of his soul. Tears streamed from his eyes as Link once again dropped the tools and used his fingers directly against the demon king’s soles. First it was just two, but soon enough the other digits joined in, and then Ganondorf was reduced to a mess of blubbering laughter. No longer were they held back; but free and wild. Ganondorf roared and howled like an animal, cornered and afraid; his jaw open and spittle flew unobstructed with each forced, senseless guffaw. He laughed. He sobbed. He mostly laughed as Link’s fingers explored every inch between his stiff, frozen toes. Ganondorf wanted to curl them, defend them. He could not. He was helpless as a babe.
No. More helpless than a babe.
“GAHHA HAHAH HAHAH HAH! HAHHAH HAHHAH HAHHHH!! HAWWW HAWW HAWWWWW HAWWWWWWWWWWW!! NO! NO, NO, NO!! NAWWW HAWW HAWW HAWW HAWW!! HEE-ROOHH!! STOP!! STOOPPPP!! STTTTO-HAWWW HAWW HAWWPHT!! I BEG – I BEG!! PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE STOP!! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE MORE-HOR-HOR!”
The lights in the cavern flickered, just as the scrolls said it would when the demon king’s energy was almost empty. Link only needed to continue for several more minutes before all of the demon king’s vital energy would be drained of him, transformed from dark to pure light. Only a few more minutes of tickling, and it would be enough to break the demon king’s flesh, to put him right back to sleep for another hundred years while he scrunched up another drop of vitality to reawaken.
But that would be mercy, wouldn’t it? The corrupted hero is not likely – no, no, no. The corrupted hero is not capable of mercy.
He pushed, of course. Pushed Ganondorf until the very split second of the very end. The demon king howled in ticklish agony as he was bathed in the light that weakened him, that bound him. He screamed – and just when the very last molecule of consciousness was to leave his body, the green-shirted hero stopped.
Ganondorf gasped for air and sobbed in a complete mess. His wrecked, broken mind began to piece itself together, and there he finally remembered the previous times he had been awakened. Each time, the one who vesseled the spirit of the hero would come and tickle him until he was broken. He paused and looked at the hero in fear, only to see Link smile. The two’s eyes met and read the expressions on each other’s faces. Ganondorf’s eyes were wide with realization, and Link’s was crafty with the very same.
“So, you remembered.” Link said with an unsettling smirk. Ganondorf’s lips trembled as he searched for words. He did not have the chance to use them. The demon king gulped. The hero leaned forward until his face was next to the demon king’s ear. “Truth be told – as do I. All my past five lives. All five times I’ve tickled you into submission came rushing back to my mind just now. Bits and pieces, but vivid and lively. How you screamed for mercy each time. How you surrendered each time. How you’d beg to be sealed again. It is.. Delicious to me.”
Ganondorf shuddered. He knew not what he had created, what he had unleashed onto the world. Onto himself.
Link stepped away from the demon king, only to return back to those soles. The Hylian leaned forward until his nose was by the crevice of those large, pedal digits. He took a whiff of each of them across, and moaned. His tongue left the confines of his mouth and lapped the demon king’s big toe from the base to the tip, and then Link gave it a good suckle-kiss.
“Delicious – just like your ticklish feet.”
“..Acc-Accursed hero..!” Ganondorf muttered. Even he couldn’t tell what the hero was thinking anymore.
“I remember your curse now, Ganondork.” Link put on a smug look that the demon king had never seen on anyone but himself. It was egotistical. Confidence. The absolute certainty of power and victory. “To be corrupt and seek you out. That’s what you said, wasn’t it?”
“And to free me!”
“Of the burdens of a king, perhaps.” Link laughed. The Hylian emptied his bag on the bed that Ganondorf laid. There fell brushes and feathers, pinwheels and scratches, wands and rods and pens of all shapes and sizes. “Really should have been more specific, Ganondork. Magics and curses and all.”
“..Accursed hero!” Ganondorf gritted his teeth, and just when he was about to say something else, Link reached for a roll of adhesives, ripped off a piece, and sealed the demon king’s mouth. “MMPHHH MM NNHGGGHHHHH!!!”
“Shh, shh, shh. Shush now, my dearest Ganondork.” Link giggled. His eyes were cold and selfish, as dark as those that have caved in to their own desires. Ganondorf’s blood ran cold. “This cycle, I think – I won’t put you back to sleep. That’ll be too easy. Keep your pretty mouth shut. Don’t want anyone else to find out our little secret, now, do we? Well, not that anyone else is allowed to get within a mile of this place that only I and the princess know about.”
“MMPHHHHH!!! GWRRRRHHHHH!!”
“Relax. I’m giving you time to recover.” Link said as he retrieved his dying torch and retreated back through the hall from where he came. “I’ll come visit again tomorrow. And the day after, and the day after that. All you have to do, Ganondork – stay ticklish for me, won’t you?”
=The end=