A/N: My fandom ratio wouldn't suggest this, but I've been hyperfixating on Ghirahim for a long time now, to the point where he's one of my biggest comfort characters. I blame fanfiction for this. /pos

Because of this, I've been leatherpantsing him in my head (if you don't know what that means, look up Draco in Leather Pants on TV Tropes) and I know I've been leatherpantsing him. And as embarrassing as it is, I no longer want to keep my massively inaccurate interpretations and headcanons to myself. So I'm channeling all of it into this very cracky fic that is in no way meant to be taken seriously. It was made both out of love and to affectionately parody myself. It is meant to be wildly inaccurate. It is meant to be out of character and not taken seriously.

That being said, being blind I'm unable to play Skyward Sword and due to suspected ADHD, I do not have the patience to watch a play through. But since this is a crackfic, I don't have to worry about getting things wrong as much! So if you experience any lore errors that will make LOZ fans fly into a rage, just assume it's part of the cracky universe and enjoy the chaos!

Link swung the Master Sword at Ghirahim, trying to aim for the glowing red gem in his chest. He missed, but he did manage to force the demon to step closer to the edge of the crystalline platform. That gave him an idea, and he swung again. Another miss, and another backwards step. He swung again, and this was when everything changed.

It's funny that the one time Link hadn't been aiming for Ghirahim's gem, that was the time he finally hit it. And, boy, did he. The divine sword plunged right through, almost to the hilt. Ghirahim screamed, and oh—it wasn't like the Skyloftian hadn't heard Ghirahim scream before, but this was different. It was a scream of pure agony and horror, and Link couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for his foe. Being stabbed in the heart with a blade specifically designed to slay your kind had to hurt.

Link quickly pulled his weapon free, and an absolute torrent of black blood gushed from the wound, splattering on the hero's face and clothing, burning like acid wherever it touched. Damn, this was Link's favorite tunic.

Meanwhile, Ghirahim seemed to forget himself in the massive amount of pain he was experiencing. His white eyes were blown wide, along with his mouth, showing off his full set of fangs as he succumbed to panic. His metal hand clamped over his chest, desperately trying to stop the floe of blood as his knees buckled, and he stumbled backwards, right off the edge of the platform.

This was just about what the hero was planning, but he felt no satisfaction in watching it now. It's not like he hadn't killed before, but this time, there was just something especially nightmarish about this particular incident. Maybe it was due to how much more humanoid the demon was, how much more sapient.

A pained noise from somewhere below him brought Link out of his stupor, and he cautiously made his way to the edge of the platform, cringing at the way his boots sizzled and steamed from the puddle of demon blood there.

Ghirahim was still alive, but he wasn't moving. His gem now had a large hole smack-dab in the center which was still oozing blood, as well as cracks cobwebbing over the rest of its surface. It was flickering too, which could not mean anything good for the demon's wellbeing (why was he suddenly so concerned anyway? Wouldn't it be a good thing if Ghirahim died?) But wait, there's no way he was still bleeding so heavily to leave that large of a puddle around him.

Link realized with horror that the blackness surrounding Ghirahim's unconscious form wasn't just his blood, but his skin. The metal that made up his strongest form was melting off his body, revealing the gray skin from before beneath it.

And it was just as painful as it looked too, judging by the nearly inaudible whimpers that occasionally escaped his lips.

"M-Master," Ghirahim whispered, and Link had to lean forward and strain his ears to hear him. His voice sounded odd, across between his normal voice and the metallic ring it had gained in his rapidly dissolving final transformation. But there was also something else there, something the Skyloftian had never heard before. "I failed… I am a failure… forgive me…" Then he finally, mercifully, lost consciousness.

"Master Link," Link jumped at the sudden sound of Fi's voice, unaffected by what had just occurred. "Ghirahim has been subdued. I strongly recommend you take this opportunity to retrieve— master? What are you doing?"

Link didn't know, himself. But for some reason, he felt a compulsion to climb down and check on Ghirahim. Mostly to assess the damage, see if he was truly dying or if it was only a matter of time before he would be back up, back to his flamboyant, dramatic, angry self. (Why did he hope it was the latter?)

"Master," Fi insisted. "Your current route is extremely unsafe, and counterproductive to your current task. I calculate a one hundred percent chance that these platforms were not intended to be climbable, and a sixty percent chance that you will fall."

Link knew that he should just listen to his sword. The emotionless spirit had never let him down before, and he really should be trying to save Zelda from the ritual that was stealing her soul at the moment. But he knew he'd never be satisfied until he got a closer look at Ghirahim, and his current state.

Fi must have realized this too. "I am able to assist you with your descent." It might just be Link beginning to go crazy from the long, perilous journey he overtook., but he could've sworn there was a sort of resignation in the sword spirit's flat tone. A sort of 'the things I am forced to deal with' sort of inflection. He didn't have much time to ponder that though, because soon he found himself levitating, floating gently down towards the downed demon.

"I didn't know you could do that," Link breathed.

"It is a function I use in emergency situations," Fi replied, and this time she sounded sort of deadpan.

I'm definitely going mad, Link decided.

The Skyloftian was surprised to find that the puddle of metal had completely disappeared when his feet softly tapped onto the ground of this strange place. The blood, however, was very much still present, and Link avoided stepping in it as best he could, not wanting to damage his boots further than they had already been.

Despite being back in his usual form, Ghirahim looked terrible. His gray skin had gone pale, looking almost as white as his hair, and his hair clung to his face, matted with sweat, and blood. That was when the hero realized Ghirahim had stopped bleeding from his chest (even his clothing was undamaged) and now, a trickle of blood seemed to be coming from his left cheek, about where that oddly perfect diamond-shaped birthmark was. What was that about?

"I can't get close to him now—the blood," Link hissed under his breath to his sword. Not even he knew what emotion, exactly, laced his tone. "Can you… maybe—"

"Scanning him now," Fi said, moving to hover inches above the prone demon with no argument. Link wasn't sure why he thought she would, Fi had never outright objected to any of his requests before, though she had been a little naggy when it came to staying on task. It was the Surface, a land he'd never been to before, could you blame him for wanting to explore a little?

But that was neither here nor there at the moment. Anxiously, Link awaited his companion's verdict on the fate of his enemy, not quite sure what he hoped she'd say.

"Ghirahim is alive, she said at last, and it took him a few moments to process the overwhelming burst of relief that nearly knocked him flat. Followed by an almost equal burst of confusion directly after. "However, his condition is critical. The divine properties of the Master Sword appear to be interacting with Ghirahim's demonic physiology in unexpected—"

That was as far as Fi got in her explanation because suddenly, there was a loud crack followed by a burst of light and a shockwave that flung Link to the ground. Everything went black.

Link groaned as he slowly regained consciousness. His entire body ached. For a moment, he was unsure where he was, before it all came rushing back. Zelda. The Surface. Fi. Ghirahim.

Ghirahim! Link sat up quickly, well, as quick as he could without being dizzy. His sword lay nearby, and he quickly retrieved it, getting to his feet.

The hero wasn't sure how long he'd been unconscious for, or what exactly had knocked him out. And Zelda… what had become of her? He could have been unconscious so long that the ritual was complete! He was so stupid. Why did he

A low groan cut his self-deprecation short. It appeared that he wasn't the only one who was waking up. Glancing forward, Link could see that Ghirahim was slowly unfurling from his awkward position on the ground.

The demon sat up, looking disoriented and disheveled, a massive contrast from his prior demeanor. He pushed some of his hair away from his still paler than usual face, wincing as his finger snagged on a tangle. Then, his dark eyes met Link's.

"Ghirahim?" The Skyloftian asked aloud before he could stop himself. He braced himself for whatever the demon would do, sword at the ready.

but Ghirahim made no move to attack him. He didn't even look angry, or the least bit perturbed. He mostly just looked confused. "Who are you?" Link was prepared for anything the demon might say or do, besides that. "And for that matter… who am I?"

A/N: The next chapter is when things will really start getting interesting. Before you ask, no, this is not intended to be Ghiralink. No hate to those of you who ship it, or choose to interpret it this way, but I'm aroace, don't like writing romance, and this is going to be pure friendship/found family/possible QPR.