This was written a LONG time ago. Like, back in July. A friend asked for Ghirahim and Link, and of course, the game wasn't even out yet, but we were getting very interested in Ghirahim from the demo videos, so I wrote this for her.
If you are open-minded, you might like it.
Again, information is wrong, because it was written way back.
Due to certain people not knowing the meaning of genderbend, yes, I'm well aware Ghirahim is a man. He was genderbent on purpose because I wanted him to be female for this.
"What do you love most?"
It was something she'd often wondered. Or perceived in a way. There was nothing exactly precious to her. No, she couldn't say she 'loved' anything. Love was a useless human emotion, something felt by all those pathetic creatures who roamed around, never realizing there was more to the world than their stupid pathetic lives. They were all so wrapped up in it, so wrapped up in what they themselves perceived as life. Flying was life to them, but why did that have to be life?
Why?
Why?
It was asked everyday, and it made her insane. Absolutely insane. She didn't know how much longer she could take just sitting around, watching all these pathetic ants squirm around in their lives, thinking something as stupid as rushing to the store, or failing a test in school was just SO important.
It infuriated her. How dare they. All of them. They knew nothing, just nothing. Nothing about the world, the way it worked, the way life was handed to them, it was like they just slapped it in the face.
All of them, she hated them. Everyone of them. It was so...so infuriating while she sat where she did, looking down on everyone and just-KNOWING. Knowing everything they didn't know, and wanting to shake them for it, bash their heads against a rock and watch as their skulls crushed and their blood pooled out, because NONE OF THEM UNDERSTOOD.
And then there was him.
He was just like them, like all the others, until he realized he found what he loved most. Maybe that made her tolerate him more than the rest, but he was still a sniveling maggot, just another human.
But, he fought so hard. He went through so much. He sacrificed so much, absolutely no regard for his own safety, all for this...girl. A girl. A disgusting maggot. A piece of filth only dirtying up the earth that much more. A girl, a useless, useless pathetic, annoying, childish girl. Everything he did, he did for that girl.
And she absolutely hated him for that. She would sit and watch him from afar, squeezing her hands into fists, reveling in the feel of her nails piercing flesh and drawing blood...how sweet it was. How sweet it would be to have his neck in her hands, how she could crush it. Because he was so stupid, and she would make him see.
She would make him see.
While her imagination went away with her as the days waned on, he continued fighting and only sacrificing more of his time and himself for that girl, and it only heightened her anger and made it boil over.
She had to...
She had to...
Watch him...
Watch him constantly...it was an obsession, she had to see what he was doing, and her anger, it got her off in a way, her own anger, because didn't she love that? Didn't she love watching and getting angry, because the anger overtook her imagination and made her visualize herself strangling him, maybe sneaking up behind him and stabbing him through with a sword, watching as he tried desperately to turn and see his attacker, only to be stuck in place...dying without knowing who had even done it, because he was stupid. And she was obsessive, she had to watch him, had to know what he was doing all the time, everyday, all day, every waking second. Insomnia was common, because she spent all her time watching him.
Obsession over him.
...Loving...him?
No.
No, no, no, no, love was not an emotion. Love. No, love. She was not capable of love.
Ghirahim was not capable of such trivial things. Ha, love. The thought made her laugh, just the stupid, stupid thought of it. How childish of her. This boy, he was getting to her. She would have to be careful of that.
It was only obsession, there was no love. She LOVED getting angry, she LOVED pretending she was holding his neck in between her hands and choking the life out of him, she LOVED the thought of running him through with a sword and watching as he tried to keep himself from dying. But, he was human. He worked just like any other human did and when too much blood was lost, when airflow was cut off from him, when water filled his lungs and he suffocated...he died. Just like everyone else. Nothing made him different. Nothing made him special.
So, why did she obsess over him so much? The black bags under her eyes were always there, she was so tired, but she didn't care. Watching this boy...it was...it was required. She HAD to do it...SHE HAD TO, OR SHE WOULD GO INSANE, SHE KNEW IT.
Days of only watching and growing angry passed. How long those days were...she was insane.
He was there, right in front of her. She could reach out and touch him. A dream? No. This was no dream. Her fantasies were coming true, that was all. The boy in green, he really was here, in the flesh, standing right in front of her, holding a sword at her and challenging her and-
It was so funny.
To think-HE, A USELESS HUMAN-could win. Against her. What a fool he was, just another useless fool. Pathetic, weak, useless, so useless.
But.
Those eyes, those beautiful blue eyes were so full of light and determination. No, no, that wasn't right. What was it she wanted? She hated him, but she loved him, too. What was it she wanted? This was insane, it was all insane, she was insane, he was...no, he was perfect. She wanted him. He was beautiful and perfect and just a maggot, but-!
"I have what you want." And to see the look on his face when she said that...
It was decided then. She wanted him, she wanted him so bad. And she would have him. B-because she would go insane if she didn't.
A tilt of his sword, and it was pointed at her face. "Where is she." He demanded, he didn't ask.
How funny of him. She loved that about him, he was so amusing. Really. Such a silly little blade it was, and to think he could stand up to her like this. Stupid, he was so stupid. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."
An angry glare was cast her way, but she laughed it off. "I know she's here, where is she."
The girl. Everything was about the girl. It enraged her. And she loved to be angry. "She is around."
The glare continued. "Don't give me that. Tell me where she is."
Such confidence. Such determination and courage. Only more fuel for her anger. He wouldn't be like this before long. No, she would enjoy ripping this away from him and exposing him for what he truly was, a worthless maggot.
He raised his arm as if to swing at her, and then it was so quick, the boy would have never been able to stop it. Her arms flew out at the same time he raised his arm, but she was faster, and right upon him. How dumb of him while she was so close! Was he stupid? He really was. But, she supposed that only gave her more reason to rage at him.
Long fingers, slender pale fingers were wrapped around his beautiful neck, and she was absolutely crushing his windpipe, reveling in this-no, no, b-but YES, YES! THAT FEAR IN HIS EYES, THE COURAGE FADING, THE LOOK OF A HELPLESS MAGGOT, OH GOD, SHE LOVED IT!
And she laughed, crushing his neck, because she was built different than he. While he may have been a man and men are sometimes stronger than women, this was not the case at all. Just like any other woman, Ghirahim had curves, a slender build, wide hips, protruding breasts, so slender and frail-looking, but. Maybe that was all an illusion. She knew she was stronger. The boy was shorter than her, so she looked down on him while she crushed his neck, and he was helpless, and she loved it.
And then what she'd been waiting for. His voice. His voice, cracking through his gritted teeth while he clawed at her hands to no avail. "S-s-stop."
It was a glorious moment she'd been waiting for, and here it was. Here he was, HERE SHE WAS AND EVERYTHING WAS JUST SO PERFECT NOW AND IT WAS ONLY GOING TO GET BETTER.
"I have your girl." Her grip around his neck loosened, but she dug her nails into his flesh, to remind him that while she was letting up on him and allowing him to breathe again, she was still in control, and he was not. "She's here. She's here, and you're here, and I'm here." Those blue eyes of his twitched as her nail pierced flesh, and the tiniest of whimpers clawed its way out his throat. SUCH BEAUTIFUL NOISES HE MADE. JUST LIKE THE MAGGOT HE WAS AND SHE LOVED THEM AND SHE LOVED HIM. She knew he would do this. He was nothing more than a human. Nothing made him special, nothing made him different. "The girl is here, and she is at my mercy, just like you are. And if you don't do as I say, I will slit that pretty little throat of hers."
No.
She had no intention to harm the girl. Unfortunately, the girl was crucial to her plans, and her survival was the highest priority.
But this boy.
He had come to her, of his own accord, to try a worthless attempt to save the girl, and now she'd caught him, just like she dreamed, just like she imagined and daydreamed and fantasized about crushing his throat and peeling his skin off and licking her tongue up his neck AND-!
He was hers, all hers. She could do whatever she wanted. Anything at all. Time was on her side, this boy was in her clutches at last, at last, all those times of just watching and waiting, watching and waiting.
He was here.
And she was here.
And everything was set into place and more than perfect. It was like a dream.
But that struggled breathing beneath her hands, the way he choked out gasps of air through his throat, it was real. And Ghirahim was ready for more of her fantasies to become reality.
Leaning into one of his pointed ears, she whispered so softly, she didn't even hear herself, but she knew that he could. "Do as I say. Everything I tell you to do, you will do it. I will kill the girl if you don't."
Bravery was expected, as was his defiance of her, but. This. When she let go of him and he...backed...down?
What was this? Ghirahim didn't expect it, and it made her angry, so she slapped him. Beautiful, beautiful red on fair skin. H-how amazing the human body worked. Her own skin didn't change colors like this, especially not because of a simple slap. This boy's body seemed so frail. No...that build, those muscles, he was strong.
But what other colors could she turn him? What other mysteries did his body hold, just waiting for her to dig them up.
But then, that flew to the back of her mind. No, no, she had to stay focused. She couldn't indulge in his human body, she had to focus on remaining in control. It wouldn't help her if she lost sight of what she really wanted.
But...what did she want?
Fight. Ghirahim wanted him to fight her. He gave up so easily. It...it was an outrage. One simple threat, one tiny little mentioning of her killing the girl, and he broke like a twig. No, no, she didn't like that. Not one bit. And he was just staring at her, just waiting, just WAITING FOR HER TO DO SOMETHING. WHY. WHY. NO, NO, THIS WASN'T SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN LIKE THIS.
Before she knew it, her fist flew again, and she drove it into his stomach, causing him to double over, coughing as the air was knocked out of him. A punch to his back while he was bent over, and the boy in green all but crumbled to the floor like a rag doll.
Yes...Ghirahim liked this position of standing over him while he quaked and broke, but then...she wanted him to fight too, didn't she? Maybe if she toyed with him...struck a nerve, maybe he would fight. It was no fun if he just submitted.
No fun.
No fun.
The tip of her white boots lifted up his chin and he stared up at her with such animosity, it made pleasure course throughout her body like a fire burning, and she knew she needed more of that. Yes, yes, so delicious, she licked her lips.
"Get up."
Cold blue eyes were her answer, but he...submitted. Again. No, no. He wasn't supposed to listen to her. H-he was the hero, HE WAS SUPPOSED TO DEFY HER AND SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BREAK HIM AND TORTURE HIM AND-
Just another maggot.
Another useless ant she crushed beneath her feet. Why, why did she love him so much?
Her fist flew a third time, this time connecting with his face with enough force that it sent him falling to the ground again.
And still, he submitted to her.
And Ghirahim was mad. So, so very mad. The blood seeping out of her palms as her nails dug into them got her off, yes, pain made her feel very good. Giving others pain made her feel good, but it did not feel so good when they just sat there and took their punishment. It just-it didn't work that way. Ghirahim did not work that way. Just lying back and accepting their punishment was so boring for her.
She wanted screams. And defiance. Maybe blood. Blood wasn't always a necessity, but it added a nice icing to the cake every once in awhile.
But, she knew merely torturing this boy would gain her no satisfaction. And as he lay on the floor, staring up at her with an already bruised cheek and still holding his stomach, Ghirahim knew what to do.
It would...give her an immense amount of satisfaction, both mentally and physically. Why did she not think it before? His body...it was so beautiful. He was such a pretty human, but stupid. And worthless, and beautiful.
In a matter of seconds, Ghirahim was on top of him, a wave of pleasure soaking her throat as she drank up his shocked expression. Yes, YES, THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT SHE WANTED. OH GOD, SHE JUST HAD TO KEEP GOING AND IT WOULD ALL BE WORTH IT. Those pretty, pretty eyes of his held such shock, it was wonderful. She wanted more. More, MORE!
She raised a single finger and trailed it along his cheek, along the bruise she'd just created, gaining a satisfying flinch from him. Such courage he flaunted around, but when it boiled down to it, when he was out of control of a situation and at the mercy of one such as she...he broke down like the drooling fool human he was.
The fear on his face, the horror that shined in his eyes as she touched him, it was an amazing experience, and Ghirahim lost control, leaning forward into him and kissing his mouth, pouring her tongue into his and assaulting his insides. A grunt beneath her, one that only enticed her to go further by sucking at his lips as her tongue drowned him, and it was so wonderful. The stiffness of his body, the way he pushed at her slightly to get her off of him, the way he tried to turn his head and get her out of him.
Absolutely no control. None whatsoever. But fear. Fear was present, she could feel it coming from his body as he shook beneath her, muscles tensing, body freezing, mind...too shocked to comprehend what was happening.
And Ghirahim drank it up. Dying of thirst, this boy was her fountain, and she would suck up as much water until he was no more.
Another grunt from him, and the something collided with her side, something that finally registered and she found to be his arm. He was hitting her to get her off him, and GOD, IT GOT HER OFF. WET, SHE WAS SO WET.
Letting off him, a trail of spit connected their mouths, and the boy looked mortified. The fear was so plain on his face, it was almost funny, but she loved this, and wiped the spit away from her mouth, leaning away only far enough where she cupped his cheeks, trailing her hands down his throat, just reveling in the feel of his skin. It was warm, unlike hers. But, she was not human after all, of course he would be different.
No, no, he was not different, he was only a human. All humans were warm. Ghirahim was cold.
Sliding down his neck, she fiddled with the collar of his shirt. For him to be so hot already, it astounded her that he didn't have a heatstroke with all these clothes on. Ghirahim thrived in cold, that's why she wore clothes so constricting and so bare, but. This warmth. It was intriguing.
The clothes needed to go. She needed more of his fear. It fed her, and Ghirahim was starved.
Untangling the thread holding the collar together, it was sweet, so sweet when his neck and collarbone were fully exposed to her. And the boy shivered beneath her. So warm, but so easily affected by the air in the room. It was almost cute. But, Ghirahim was losing herself. It was taking so much willpower not to just...strip him all at once, bite him, lick him, hear him scream. Why did she have to go slow, because his fear was ever-present. It was still there, and heightened with everything she did to him.
Slaps and punches didn't frighten him. Ghirahim should've known better than that. He'd traveled far and wide for his girl, no, that wouldn't scare him.
But this.
This would.
And she was wet as she bent down and sucked on his neck, about to lose herself and go insane as she felt every little shiver from him, ever small tremor and shake...so beautiful. With his head turned to the side since nothing was stopping him from doing so, he was turned away from her, his face red, his eyes pinched shut, and that...made her mad. Without thinking, just acting on rage, she sank her teeth into his fragile neck, and he screamed.
OH GOD.
SCREAMING, SCREAMING, SCREAMING. YES, YES, THIS WAS IT-GHIRAHIM WAS SO WET AND SO READY AND SO-!
The taste of blood lingered in her mouth as she let off him, tiny teeth marks imbedded into his throat now, leaking blood, and while he was cradling his bleeding throat, Ghirahim lost every little bit of composure she'd tried thus far to keep.
And ripped at his clothes.
"No!"
His screams. Yes, yes, hot, she was so hot and wet and ready and-
"No, no, please, I'll do anything else! Please, don't hurt Zelda, don't do this, I'll do whatever you want! PLEASE!"
Screaming, so much screaming, but Ghirahim wasn't even listening. His chest was bare, and she attacked, licking at his collarbone and his nipples while he screamed and screamed. As the pink nubs grew erect in her mouth, the screaming was accompanied by thrashing. Wild thrashing. Like an animal. No, like a human who realizes its basic traits are like that of an animal.
Ghirahim drank it down like the sweetest wine. It was amazing, she was high, high off his fear and his fighting and his begging and screaming and-
Holding his arms down, the thrashing threw off her aim at his chest, and she was stronger, so it was easy. Y-yes. All he could do was stare at her with fear and...tears? No, that was her imagination. There were no tears yet. There probably wouldn't even be any. He was a boy. Boys didn't cry. But that begging and screaming...she never knew he was so weak.
Or maybe it didn't fully sink in what exactly she was doing until it was too late.
Either way, she was still going to do it, whether he got it or not.
Fear was almost tangible the way she ate it, there was so much satisfaction coursing through her, and she audibly moaned at it while he shook beneath her. Nothing felt better than this. Nothing. It was all for pleasure. Nothing else.
His pants were removed.
Halfway naked and shivering, goosebumps appearing on his skin, the boy stared at her in horror, his mouth sewn into a constant grit, as if she was still hurting him, and the pain wouldn't go away. Nothing he would say would stop her. Ghirahim would get this. She would, she would. IT WAS ONLY PART OF HER FANTASIES, BUT NOW IT WAS REALITY. OH GOD, SHE KNEW IT, THIS WOULD GAIN HER SO MUCH GRATIFICATION.
But, what was the point of it all? If it was all for obsession and...love...?
Because Ghirahim would go insane if she didn't get it. This boy wrought such emotions in her, she felt like a pathetic human. It wouldn't hurt to act on them. No, no. Not at all. It wouldn't hurt her.
She slid down the rest of his clothing, keeping sure to shift her weight so that he remained trapped beneath her. After some awkward maneuvering, the boy was completely naked.
Something was missing.
He was limp, but she knew how humans worked, she knew how to fix that. Something was missing.
Another stare into his horror-filled eyes and then, "...Undress me."
His mouth closed, no sound, not even a whimper coming from him. All the tremors and shaking stopped. The boy was all but a statue beneath her now.
Amused, not angry, at this, she held one of his hands in her own and slid it along her skin-tight white clothing. "Undress me."
No answer, just a horrified, shocked expression. Slightly annoyed at the lack of response she was receiving, she bent down, licking at his bruised cheek and drinking in the shivers he made.
It worked. The hand she was holding began fiddling with the strap near her shoulders, his fingers tangled into it, not knowing how her clothes worked, but then the strap fell, and her breasts were exposed to him. Not bothering with forcing him to do it, she took the hand she still had clasped in her own and manipulated his fingers over her already erect nipples. S-so warm, he was so warm, and she was still wet, so wet. Ghirahim closed her eyes, concentrating only on feeling this warmth around her, ignoring the fearful stare he kept on his face. Amazing, all of it, and she was high off him. This was the best thing, the best feeling, the best drug she'd ever experienced. A human, a stupid, stupid human was able to do this.
It didn't matter. Now. Now mattered. And feeling was now. Feeling and pleasure were all she comprehended when she moved his fingers down her breasts, her stomach, below the cloth belt that held up her pants. He could just rub her through her pants. It didn't really matter.
But, it wouldn't work until she made him hard. And she needed to do that now. Forcing herself away from her own indulgence, Ghirahim gazed down at his limp phallus beneath her, scooting onto his legs so that he could not kick her, and giving him a threatening stare to remind him not to try and get away as she grabbed his member in her hand and pumped him.
Perhaps he was a virgin. By the look on his face, this seemed to be the case. Before she even grabbed him, his head was jerked away, anywhere, anywhere but at her, and he pinched his eyes closed, like a child would do, like not seeing would take him away and everything would just stop.
Teasing him was so fun, and she pumped him harder, loving the way he gritted his teeth, the sweat forming on his face as he slowly began to get off from it, and the blush going all the way to the tips of his ears.
And gradually, very gradually, the organ in her hand began to grow hard and erect. Licking her lips at the sight of this, she pumped harder, watching in fascination as precum began to seep out the tip. This was used for lube, and it was warm, which added to his pleasure, and Ghirahim pumped and pumped and the boy's breath was hitching in his throat, because she knew it just felt so good and he'd probably never had someone else do this to him before.
She couldn't have him orgasming on her just yet, so while he was still erect, she let go, leaning up, undoing her cloth belt and tossing it to the floor, pushing her pants to her ankles and sliding them off until she too was completely naked.
And then the boy looked at her, fearful tears in his eyes, sweat coating his brow...torn.
With no more words, no more motions, not even bothering to prepare herself, Ghirahim sank down onto his erection.
And it hurt. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt, BUT SHE LOVED IT, SHE LOVED THE PAIN, SHE LOVED EVERY OUNCE OF FEAR HE WAS GIVING HER, BECAUSE IT WAS ALL FOR HER, SHE'D CAUSED THIS FEAR.
Up. More pain, it was like she was ripping herself apart, and she moaned and screamed at it, but pain was beautiful, pain was alive, and the boy grunted as her tight walls coated him, heating him. Down. Less pain, more bearable, she hissed at it, going up again, and he grunted below her.
"Move."
He was absolutely still, his face red, his lips quivering...such weakness.
"Move. Move with me."
For once, she wanted him to submit, and he did. The boy moved with her, thrusting up as she came down onto him, and pulling out when she went up, and it was so wonderful and beautiful and the pain was going away and-!
The last thrust he did, he hit something-S-SOMETHING AMAZING, SHE COULDN'T-again, up and down, up and down, he would hit it, grunting each time she went down on him. That spot, her sweet spot, was hit, again and again as he went into her, and she was rocked with pleasure by that point, already wet from his fear, already off by his pain.
The tightening.
The tightening.
Tighter...tighter...the pleasure, yes, yes, it was coming...she was coming. It was like building up, and up, AND UP AND UP AND UP! HIGHER, GHIRAHIM WANTED TO GO HIGHER, MORE, MORE, she came down, GOD YES, she went up, SO SWEET AND BEAUTIFUL, down, TIGHTER, up, TIGHTER!
It was there, she could almost see it when he came all into her, his body jerking from orgasm, the white, sticking stuff going all into her, and then she could feel it, her own orgasm, it was the best feeling, the best thing ever. The one feeling she hoped never to get used to, ever, ever.
An explosion. It coursed through her, making her toes curl and her walls tighten around him and she arched her back and through her head back as it broke through and let out a loud and passionate moan at it. YES, YES!
The feeling was like blacking out. Nothing was wrong. Everything was okay. Ghirahim wasn't insane or obsessive. There was nothing wrong. Nothing wrong. Nothing wrong. The moment was pure bliss, just peace. Severe calm after the explosion, and all was silent save for her heavy breathing. The boy had even stopped shaking.
She pulled out and off of him, her entrance dripping and sticky with his cum. How gross it felt, but satisfying at the same time. Everything about it, the entire endeavor. It was worth it. All worth it. Ghirahim was no longer thirsty, or starving.
The boy had filled her up, in more ways than one.
Link...
While he still lay there, breathing heavily and recovering from his first major orgasm, Ghirahim reached over and ran her hand down his warm cheek. So fragile. So beautiful.
Still straddling Link who was no longer shaking just, breathing, living, she grabbed hold of his chin, turning his face toward her where she smiled at him and said, "I love you," before taking both sides of his head, lifting, and slamming it to the cold hard floor, knocking him unconscious.
Yes. He was so beautiful. Ghirahim wanted him. Not just now, but everyday. Everyday.
She was obsessed.
And this was her gratification.
End
