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grey-sorcery · 2 years

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Recommended Reading:

Introduction to Gnosis

Energy Work Fundamentals

Intermediate Energy Work

Conceptualization vs. Visualization

The Subtle Body

Basics of The Subtle Body

The subtle body is the energetic field surrounding all living things and the energetic nodes (as in density) of energies that are connected by conduits (paths of least resistance). The subtle body is connected to the physical body as well. This energetic body can influence the physical body and vice versa. They cannot influence each other too drastically, however. The subtle body is used in every type of magic that is possible and is the primary object in astral projection and dreamwalking.

What Are The Senses?

A lot of the information in this post has been taken directly from Intermediate Energy Work, I'm including them for the sake of a complete understanding, but I've put more emphasis on the newer material.

Yotasia: The closest analog would be a combination of hearing and touch. This sense is best described as having a sense that is of an entire volume of space, without any displacement due to the physical. Almost as if you had complete awareness of a volume of water, except that water permeates everything within that volume.

Tata’o: The closest analog is a combination of peripheral sense and sight. This sense is best described as a type of sonar that only reflects off of energetic constructs, including the ambient energies in the space and the energetic makeup of the surroundings. It is almost like all things energetic are constructed of mirrors, and your body is constantly radiating light.

Kemiya: The closest analog is smell. This sense is best described as observing energetic fluctuations as theory moves throughout a space. This sense is typically experienced in the energetic points that exist just inside the head near the ears. This makes it the most internal sense. It is almost like smelling a scent as it moves through the environment, except you can pick up on the subtle variations as it passes.

Taoyita: This sense doesn't really have anything analogous to our typical human senses. It is best described as Yotasia but it is more fractally inward and outward than expansive into the environment. It is like your senses can dive down into levels of reality that aren't normally perceivable. It also works in the opposite direction. When this skill is honed, it becomes possible to sense energetic fluctuations on nearly atomic levels or planetary levels. This sense is the best one to use for controlling the precision of your energy work.

Pioso: This sense is most similar to the sense of periphery. This one is best described as sensing when a sentient energetic presence enters a space and the ability to distinguish it from other energetic phenomena in the space. It is like feeling when a person enters a space without you seeing, smelling, or hearing them do so.

Saya: Again, similar to Yotasia, this sense is like being able to sense energetic constructs. However, unlike Yotasia, this sense only perceives the circumference or parameters of those constructs. This sense does not pick up on fluctuations of energetic properties or density, only alterations in form.

I named these senses myself from a conlang that I’m developing. I did this for the ease of communication and to try to avoid misunderstandings.

How Can They Be Used?

Energy work

In energy work, these senses are basically your eyes and ears. Without them, you’re flying blind and will have very little to no control over what you’re doing. Most practitioners rely on visualization, which weakens the potency of a spell as well as its effectiveness and accuracy.

Astral Projection

Astral projection is not a visual practice, as that aspect of space does not interact with light the same way your dimension does. When I say dimension, I am referring to spatial dimensions. Without these senses, a practitioner is either completely blind or is developing a personal narrative based on their supposed astral navigations. This becomes increasingly more important within the Astral Plane.

Spirit Work

While these senses aren't necessary to work with spirits, they are very beneficial. If you interact with your spirits energetically on purpose, then these senses are paramount. They also help spatially locate spirits and their forms. These senses can also allow you to know the type of spirit you’re dealing with, their disposition, and if their goals or mood change.

Psychic Abilities

I personally consider these senses to be psychic abilities, but they also assist greatly in the development of other psychic forms of perception. Such as claircognizance, foresight, and The Sight.

How These Senses Are Processed Energetically

Yotasia:

In the energetic body, near the Myocardium; this energy point is directly connected to the largest of our subtle body’s fields. All energies within the field become modified so that they are entangled with the energy point.

Tata’o:

In the energetic body, near the left & right Bronchus; Connected to physiological breathing. Every breath contains ambient energy, every exhale releases energy. Projects into the environment omnidirectionally.

Kemiya:

Closest to the physical body within the energetic body, near the left & right Cochlea. These points reach out and tether to every composite of energy within the field produced by the brain. As soon as an energetic composite leaves the field, it is no longer detected.

Taoyita:

In the energetic body, nearest to the Pineal Cortex. Energy that is projected out of the upper and lower connection nodes is entangled with the pineal cortex point. This sense is the most sensitive because it picks up the most minute discrepancies in the frequencies and interactions between all energetic composites that are possibly detectable. When the sense is extended outwards, it is moreso compiling data from detectable fluctuations in order to extrapolate information that is beyond our fields.

Pioso:

In the energetic body, nearest to the Larynx; This energetic point connects to the spinal cord within the physical body. Any drastic fluctuations in the ambient energy causes a mild electric sensation and occasionally goosebumps.

Saya:

In the energetic body, nearest to the Adrenal Glands. This sense is where we derive our sense of space. Even with our eyes closed and ears covered we can still sense the shape and size of an environment. This is do to this energy point that can take in only reflected energies. Reflection of energy minutely alters that energy’s properties, allowing for specific observation to be possible.

How to Develop Them

These senses are vague and difficult to communicate about, so I will be using a lot of metaphors and similes here.

Pioso is the easiest of the senses to learn. This is the sense that allows us to know when something has entered or changed within our space of awareness. To be able to control this sense consciously, you must first feel for the mechanisms that drive it subconsciously. When the moment strikes that you feel someone looking at you, entering a space, or changing emotions pay very close attention to how the substance of space changed. Feel for how the substance changed within yourself. The fluctuation won't be very significant, but it should be noticeable. Be patient and remain aware of potential biases. Once the mechanism is sensed, you’ll be able to start practicing it consciously. Starting with intentional empathy and feeling what people are doing through walls.

From here it should be relatively easy to begin conceptualizing and practicing tata’o. This sense is very similar to Pioso, however instead of catching the ambient energies as they move past you, you’ll have to project your own energy omnidirectionally and catch the reflections.

Once you’ve become familiar with how energetic properties and frequencies can be differentiated, it's best to start on Kemiya. This sense can be tricky due to biases, as the mind really wants to fill in the blanks. It is very helpful to enter into gnosis here, specifically on noticing fluctuations in the related energy points.

Between the three of the senses before this, it should be pretty simple to move into Yotasia. The difficult part is expanding the field that your subtle body produces. However, we all do this pretty naturally too, but it can be difficult to pull off consciously. It is so similar to when you’re out in nature and can feel and sense the entire area which causes a sense of tranquility and homeliness. It goes beyond this though, that’s just the concept behind expanding the field.

Once Yotasia can be done consciously, you can use it and Pioso to achieve conscious Saya, which allows for more accurate observations of energetic form.

Taoyita is by far the most difficult sense to master or begin to learn. It helps to have a solid conceptualization of as many frames of reference as possible, which means that the idea of particles making up the universe needs to be unlearned, as its just an idea that helps teach our current model. It may be easier to think of this sense as projecting astrally, but rather than moving through space, moving into space.

Employment of Energetic Senses in Creating Constructs

When creating an energetic construct, it is very helpful, but not necessary, to visualize whet it is going to look like and how it will function. In this regard, so long as you stay within the confines of three spatial dimensions the possibilities are limitless. Once the plan has been made, start releasing energy to give your construct form. Use your visualization, if you have one, as a mould to guide you in creating its form. However, visualization won't actually give you any indication as to where the energy is, its density, or its frequencies. For this, you'll need to use yotasia and tata’o and overlap those senses with your visualization. If you’re not using a visualization, then think about creating its form like sculpting with your eyes closed. You can feel the clay with you hands- which for some is a lot less complicated than using their eyes. Only in this case, you can feel every aspect of the energetic form from all angles. Then, by using taoyita, you can check the constructs energetic density with extreme precision. You can also use this sense to ensure that the anchoring of the construct is thorough enough and that energies are moving between the construct and the anchor as they should as to prevent an undesired energetic half-life.

If you'd like to read more about me, see my other content, request content, commission a sigil or divination reading, click here.

#Energy work #energetic senses #witchcraftguide #baby witch #grey witch #informational post #Gew

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lorddarkkitty · 5 days

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Leaving off from volume 2 the girls are at the top of the river after saving someone and these knights come and apprehends them. Saying that one of them for formed very dangerous magic that change the landscape. And about to erase their memory.

So Richeh flys into this knights arm and Tetia destroys the thing that keeping Agott and Coco tied up.

Tetia express that it isn’t right for them to not listen to what Coco and Agott have to say and Richeh express she hates adults that treat children like things instead of humans. And I’m absolutely living for it cause she is so right. They are human and should be treated as such. Quifrey also shows up behind the knight who name is Easthies and I hate him. Cause he comes off, how do I say super strict? but that doesn’t fit. But he was gonna act first ask questions later type. Like he talks about justice but was about to erase the mind of two INNOCENT GIRLS. And he insults master Quifrey. Any way the other adult that was with Quifrey (I might have to make a list of their names for reference cause I can’t remember atm lol) so the other dude like “uhh hey are y’all gonna stand around and argue or are y’all gonna help cause that’s the whole point of being a witch is to bring blessings to ppl without magic” basically that’s not a quote of what he actually said. So after the ppl been tended to Easthies questions Coco. Using ink and draws the sigil she used to turn the stone to sand. Basic. So Easthies examines Coco’s hands cause the “brimmed caps” would put sigil on their bodies for power ups. WHY WOULD COCO DO THIS IDK. I doubt she even knew you could put sigils on the body. But he finds nothing but an apprentice learning how to draw spells. And they leave. Good get gone Easthies you asshat of a witch. I don’t like him.

After that Quifrey tells the girls that they shouldn’t have used magic so dangerously close to non witches cause it could expose them and then they would have to erase peoples mind which is very delicate so they don’t want to do that. But also expressed that Agott should take the second test. He a good teacher … still have my suspicions tho lol.

It changed to Easthies and the knights flying through the air showing the destruction Coco spell has done and expressing that there will be a proper investigation cause he doesn’t trust that Coco didn’t do it even tho she 10 and just learning and that her spell shouldn’t be that strong. So some confusion there lol.

Then it goes back to Quifrey and the apprentices along with the other dude I don’t know his name, Oleruggio is it lol. They make a brigade of sand but before they leave Quifrey picks up Cocos hat and her ink bottle falls out. So he giving her a light scolding cause non witches can’t see that. And Coco expresses that she been using it but it still has fall as ever and Quifrey seems to figure out why Coco spell was so strong. We find out that t that the brimmed cap that gave coco the spell book, switched out her ink with blood. Which is gross and unsanitary and that’s how you get hepatitis C. I really want to know their plans for Coco cause what are u up to???

Anyway Qifrey has to take Coco back to Kalhn "b/c he forgot to buy cod a wand" when really he going to talk to nolnoa about the ink. Tartah brings Coco to this room filled with different powders all in a specific order (Cause we learn he has something called Silverfish Syndrome) Coco was getting excited about everything but then a big flash of light happens and lots of the shelves and jars get knocked down and over. the labels fell off so his grandfather is going to have to fix it. Sucks that this isn't a way to help ppl with this type of color blind condition. Qifrey also did something that he even says it shouldn't be done but erasing someone's mind. shame! shame! He looking for something idk what his goals are but that one eye hat witch find out and kinda takes back the ink.

Gonna fast-forward cause they learning and stuff at some point Coco gets a fever and collapses and needed to head to the hospital where Tartah happened to run into them. he had to return there cause he forgot his hat so he couldn't get on a boat to get home. a fire broke out somewhere and of course Qifrey and others witches help out. Tartah hat was in the room Coco's in. He tried finding someone to help but couldn't find anyone and he wants to help coco but there aren't any labels cause he knows what he can give her. as he goes to give her water he gets a jimmy neutron brain blast with the water holder? thingy?. he separates solids and liquids and is looking for the one the turns into a powder and he got down to three. and he starts to get upset and about to give up. My favorite part is that Coco tells him that That is what magic is for. "To turns things you can't do into things you can do!" Coco tries to draw a spell to help him but she obviously sick and gets embarrassed. However, the spell is good just needs some fine tuning basically. which Tartah suggests putting some symbols in certain places and he draw the sigil allowing him to see the original form of the powders helping him identify the herb he needed. only for a nurse to come see what he was doing in the room filled with medicines wondering why he was there. but that tranquileaf I think it was called was correct. I loved that Coco did her sickly best to help Tartah. Cause really what's the point if you can't make someone's life easy.

Also we see another character be introduced that is an embodiment of forbidden magic ....and it cause a cap and a hat ...with not visible person there..A GHOST LOL

#amari meows #mar manga #witch hat atelier #volume 3 #witch hat atelier spoilers #WHA #manga

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darklordazalin · 1 year

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Azalin Reviews: Strahd von Zarovich of Barovia

Domain: Barovia Formation: 351 BC Power Level: 💀💀💀💀 ⚫ (4/5) Personality and sense of fashion: ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ ⚫ (0/5) Sources: 37 years spent living with the smarmy bastard Note: I’m mostly on Twitter, but figured I’d start doing “throw back Thursdays” of the Darklord Reviews here on Tumblr to give the site a shot. Von Zarovich is the Darklord of Barovia. Strahd claims, “I am the ancient. I am the land,” and given that Barovia is a small mud slump of a domain full of fear and paranoia where the peasantry live out hollow lives, this is an accurate statement. Strahd is Barovia.

He is the first Darklord and claims to be the first vampire, even though in his private journals he states he is much younger than Jander Sunstar, an elven vampire that found himself pulled into Barovia. If you’re going to lie, you should at least destroy evidence to the contrary, but I always found Strahd to be a dumb genius.

It took him far too long to divulge the exact details of the night the Mists formed, which was infuriating. How was I to discover a way for us to get out of his tiny domain without the proper information? Thankfully, I had already discovered his “hidden” journal and read it so when he finally decided to tell me, I knew the details he left out.Strahd’s people considered him to be a war hero, though I’m sure the other side of the war saw him, more accurately, as a bloodthirsty tyrant. Strahd won at some point and once the war was over, he became restless and found his new role of ruling a realm tedious.

Strahd viewed himself as someone who couldn’t afford “friends”. But, I believe it is his paranoia and pride that blinded him to the fact that not only did his younger brother, Sergei, idolize him but his Commander, Alex Gwilym, would have done anything for him. Even his priest, Ilona Darovnya, was devoted to him.Strahd found meaning again when he met Tatyana Federovna, a young peasant woman he fell in love with, but she was already engaged to Sergei. I’m sure family diners were more awkward than normal as Strahd tried to court his brother’s betrothed. Ah to be a fly in the wall watching Strahd play Tatyana some love-sick song on his overly dramatic organ as his brother looked on.

He half-heartedly attempted to distract himself from Tatyana by devoting himself to studying magic. That should have been enough. Magical research can consume one’s mind for years upon years, but not everyone has my devotion and patience.

It was Alek that brought Strahd the book that led to his doom. The book contained rare magics but, and this made me laugh given how often he gloated about me being unable to learn new magics, he couldn’t read it. Which drove him a bit mad, especially after he found a spell regarding the heart’s desire. Of course, this was the Dark Powers meddling as they guided him down a path he could have turned away from many times.

After obsessively trying to learn the spell, an entity, which Strahd referred to as “Death” (not to be confused with my Lowellyn), offered to remove his rival for Tatyana’s love and for him to no longer age. Death did not specify what he must do, but he foolishly agreed to “anything”. Arrogance, your name be Strahd. He believed he actually had a chance with the woman who loved his much kinder, handsomer, and younger brother.

This resulted in Strahd killing Alek and drinking his blood for the crime of potentially witnessing him talk with “Death”. He then killed Sergei and drank his blood the night he was to wed Tatyana. Real nice. Could have done it any day, but he had to be all dramatic and kill him on what was supposed to be Sergei’s “happiest day”. At least, that’s what I hear some marriages are like.

Instead of giving Tatyana a moment to grieve for the loss of the man she loved, Strahd decided to make his move that same night. Dumb genius. As you can imagine, this did not go well and the Mists formed as he tried to seduce her and instead of accepting him, she ran and flung herself off the cliffs from the parapet of Castle Ravenloft. This is the only proper response to Strahd’s courtship.

So, there you have it, Strahd became a vampire and started this whole mess with the demiplanes because he could not accept a woman telling him “no”. Oh and even though he rules Barovia, he still calls himself “Count”. Why not King? His inability to let go of the past, I suppose.

As a vampire, I admit, he is one of the most powerful I have encountered. He is also one of the most talented pupils of the arcane I have ever taught, though lacks patience. With his talent in magic, the sword, and as a strategic genius, he is not one to be underestimated. Of course, he has countless weaknesses and vulnerabilities. For example, it is better to plan an attack while he sleeps in his coffin than when he is at his full strength.

His curse is to encounter reincarnations of Tatyana and witness her death again and again. Honestly, it seems Tatyana gets the bad end of this bargain. Though, I have always wondered if it is truly her coming back or something the Mists created to torture him.

#ravenloft #strahd von zarovich #dnd #darklordreviews

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thatonespawnling · 8 months

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Starfield & The Importance of Beginnings

SPOILER WARNING FOR STARFIELD!! DO NOT READ IF YOU DON'T WANT SPOILERS ON THE BEGINNING

Looks like we're good to go! Okay, so I've recently been dumping a steady amount of hours into Starfield. It's been fun, how they've evolved their character creation is fantastic, I've had a decent amount of positives. Throughout the six and a half hours I've played, there is only one thing that I have a problem with. That problem? The beginning of the game, particularly the first two hours. I understand that Bethesda games often have mediocre main storylines with characters that lack deep characterization. However, one thing about the main story that Bethesda writers usually do well is that beginning.

Skyrim is a notorious beginning. A decade after its release, the first two minutes of that game is still remembered. It is still celebrated through memes and video edits, references by other media. It does a lot of things right for an RPG! It provides just enough worldbuilding to give the actions of those surrounding you meaning, it gives you a purpose of being there without defining your backstory, and it provides an easy way to get the player from point A to point B without making the player feel dragged around. Oblivion works in a similar fashion. It doesn't work nearly as well as Skyrim's beginning, there is too much of it that relies on happenstance. However, it is still a rather solid beginning. Even Bethesda's Fallout games has some nice beginnings with Fallout 3. What matters the most with these beginnings and why they function is that, ultimately, the player feels like they're involved in what's happening. This is where I feel Starfield fails.

Starfield starts us off by putting us in the position of a miner riding an elevator down to the mines with a humorous veteran known as Heller and the stoic leader of the operation called Supervisor Lin. They seem to give you words of encouragement as you are carried down, dropping mentions of some of the more prominent factions of the Settled Systems along the way. For the next thirty minutes you're mostly following NPCs as they talk to you and order you to do tasks without much agency. This all goes until you touch the Artifact, an odd rock that is almost magical in nature. When you come into contact with it, you are almost blinded. Your vision is ejected from your body, flying through very matter itself until the whole universe is revealed to you. Then you are called back, told it was a hallucination, and provided the character customization menu through your employee file meant to remind you of who you are. After that you accompany the operations leader to hand the Artifact off to Barrett, a space explorer part of a legendary exploration group known as the Constellation. After the initial conversation and an unsuccessful raid from pirates, he invites you to join the Constellation on account of you "seeing what he's seen". He gives you his ship, his robot, and walks off.

After that, you run into some pirates, are lead to take down a pirate outpost, and the first quest ends there. That is considered your tutorial. There is a main story after that which can act as introductory quests, but the game lets you explore and accepts quests as you wish from this point. There are issues with this beginning, issues I have. First off, there's the more obvious problem of you not really being in control of what happens. There's no small choices you can make that give you that sense of agency. You are brought from story beat to story beat with no real care for investment. Even in terms of your "decision" to accept Barrett's invitation, there's no negotiation there. If you refuse, Supervisor Lin tells you that this is your purpose now and you should go along. There's not even really a way to ensure Barrett can get back home, you simply take his ship and fly off. That also runs into the issue of why Barrett would even lend you the ship.

He could fly you back and through him we could be provided important information on how the galaxy works. We could be informed what all these terms and factions being thrown at us during the tutorial and character customization even mean. What are these religions we can choose to align ourselves with? What are these places we can choose to hail from? What are the factions and how do they defer? We could've been told all this through Barrett and even have someone that could vouch for us to the Constellation. As the game is now, the Constellation accepts you immediately with no real resistance. If Barrett were to come along with us, it could provide an interesting dynamic where the Constellation is initially unsure of if you should be welcomed into their ranks. You along with the praise from Barrett could convince them to let you join, allowing the beginning to break from the "Chosen One" narrative it falls into far too readily.

I could go on about what Starfield could've done, like how being one of the Crimson Fleet Pirates taking Barrett's ship the "Frontier" would've provided an interesting hook and give you a more realistic route to get the ship and run off with it. Simply being there when Barrett was killed and escaping the planet as the mine is overrun with pirates would work much the same way and even provides minimal changes to how the story plays out in the next few hours. However that's not the point of this little rant here. The point is to showcase the flaws of the game's beginning. The game's story shows a nice amount of promise so far, being opted as an explorer gives you sufficient reason to run off and interact with the side content that often defines these Bethesda Game Studios games. However for any work the beginning is the most important. It is the first impression of your game. If that first impression is lacking in any way, the player could be made to feel like the rest of the game will follow its example. The beginning is the easiest time to lose your player and it deserves care. Starfield's beginning lacks care. It feels like it's almost treated as a second thought, which is such a travesty in a big budget game.

#starfield #xbox #writing #review #video games

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monthofsick · 1 year

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Fault Lines

Nov(emeto)ber 2022, Day 20: Panic/anxiety

Characters: Alex Krycek, Fox Mulder (The X-Files)

Growing up in the 90's, I was obsessed with The X-Files. Mulder/Krycek was probably my very first OTP and I will forever go down with this ship. Honestly, this incredible series is worth watching for their chemistry alone (just skip season 8). I tried to give enough details and background information to make the story work even if you don't know the series. It's set during the episode Tunguska (S4E8) when Mulder and Krycek are about to fly to Siberia and references the episodes Piper Maru (S3E15) and Apocrypha (S3E16), especially that missile silo scene. Other than that, it's about how everyday things can give you the most horrible of flashbacks and how having panic attacks in public (and trying to hide them) is one of the worst possible feelings. Also, it gave me feels and lots of them.

TW: Vomit, panic attack, flashbacks

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Everything was fine until they passed the restrooms.

As usual, Alex was busy planning ten steps ahead, creating a mindmap of possible obstacles and mishaps. It was probably one of the reasons he was commonly seen as a manipulative, opportunistic bastard. He prefered to call it being in total control.

Alex had long understood that every person was on their own side. What was the use of blind allegiance if it only ended in slavery, death or worse? If the other party wouldn't hesitate a second to sacrifice you for their own benefit? He knew he always needed a valuable leverage, foresight and several loopholes to stay on top. To stay alive. In the last few days, Alex had once again dodged several bullets, almost froze to death twice, but was now right back on track.

Then he saw that tiny little bathroom sign and shattered completely.

The mundane sight hit Alex like a gut punch, making him feel sick to his stomach. For a second, he was certain he would throw up right there in the terminal, in front of everybody including Mulder. Needless to say, the mortifying thought only made things worse. Even though every fiber of his body resisted, the only way to avoid complete and utter humiliation was to head straight for the toilets without letting the urgency show.

"If you'd kindly excuse me for a second", Alex declared in the most casual tone he could possibly fabricate, with just the slightest hint of confrontional sarcasm to match Mulder's expectations. He tried to switch into his functional depersonalization mode – don't think, don't feel, just do what is required. What you were taught to do. It probably wasn't a healthy skill and Alex definitely didn't want to know what a self-righteous profiler like Mulder would read into this habit. The fact that he now struggled to accomplish a behavior that had become second nature to him was alarming enough.

"If this is an attempt to pull any of those dirty tricks of yours, it's a pathetic one, even for you, Krycek." And there it was again, the inevitable contempt in Mulder's every interaction with Alex. It had probably become an involuntary reflex at this point, like yawning when he was tired. So what, it could only benefit Alex at the moment. If stubborn old Mulder expected some kind of scheme, maybe he wouldn't notice the cold sweat forming on Alex' skin. The slight tremble of his frame. The rapid, shallow breathing that barely lifted his chest.

"I didn't think you wanted to know the details about how dirty it's going to get in there", Alex sneered. Somehow, the oh so typical conversation with Mulder made it easier to slip back into his persona. Like he wasn't about to enter the room that had hit him in the face with an unexpected flashback. With memories he thought he had processed and moved past, like he had gotten over anything else in life.

"Five minutes, then I'll come in and drag you out." Another deja vu, of course.

"Give me ten." Somehow, Alex managed to turn around and walk towards the restroom door in a way that seemed neither rushed nor reluctant. His vision was blurred and distorted by static like an old TV. A buzzing in his ears muffled the soundscape of the busy airport, making Alex feel even more disconnected from his surroundings. Like he was moving through his very own bubble with a slightly distorted passage of time. It was something he had experienced before, but never this bad.

The first thing Alex noticed when he opened the door was the distinct smell of a public restroom – loads of cheap cleaning products, desperately trying to mask the lingering stench of urine. It was familiar enough to instantly force a gag out of him. He hurried into the very first bathroom stall, fell on his knees and bent over the toilet.

Nothing happened. The flood of puke Alex had expected to burst out of him at the first opportunity kept on pushing towards his esophagus, but it didn't come up. It left him nauseous and shivering and tense all over. Ten minutes. Why couldn't his body just get it all out and wash away the anxiety with a post-vomit endorphine rush? Instead, Alex was hovering over a porcelain bowl that had been used by who knows how many strangers, drooling like a hungry dog.

This was pathetic. Alex knew it, but he couldn't help it either. He was here and not here. Not now. He was at the Hong Kong airport, almost exactly a year ago, waiting for a plane back to Washington. Just when he thought he had gotten away, Mulder, being the annoyingly persistent bloodhound that he was, had blindsided him with a sudden attack. Which somehow turned out to be one of the most horrifying moments of his life.

Not because of that ridiculous bloody nose Mulder had given him. Not even because the anger-issue on legs was violently pinning him against the payphones, shoving Alex' own gun into his stomach. Yes, Alex had assassinated the man Mulder thought to be his father, so there was a certain possibility that even an upstanding FBI agent would resort to vigilante justice. But Alex didn't believe for a second that Mulder would actually pull the trigger. Even at his worse, Mulder wasn't a cold blooded killer like Alex himself. And his boundless curiosity still demanded too many answers and informations to dry up the source.

The actual frightening part was that Alex didn't fight back. He just couldn't. Even though it went against the very core of who he was, Alex let Mulder beat himself up and threaten like the rookie he had pretended to be during their very first encounter. A miserable part of him wanted to become the wide-eyed, ambitious yet clueless freshman again, at least in his ex-partner's eyes. But he would forever be Alex Krycek, the man who shot Mulder's father. The traitor. The rat. Mulder would never look at him again and see anything but vermin.

Not that it mattered. What did matter was, however, that Mulder attacked and Alex let it happen. Mulder was so blinded by rage that it didn't seem wrong to him. He took his ability to overpower the younger man for granted, even though Alex had probably killed more people than Mulder and the rest of his fellow FBI agents combined. And still, the thought of Alex being able to defend himself didn't even seem to cross Mulder's mind. Which would have been an advantage on Alex' side if it hadn't been for a certain Mulder-shaped flaw in his code.

Alex, who had been programmed to value survival over anything else, allowed another person to threaten his life. He just stared at Mulder with pleading puppy dog eyes like some helpless victim he certaintly wasn't. Alex was a triple agent, an assassin, a perfect self-preserving weapon. Until he came across this neurotic, egocentric, obsessive mess of an FBI agent. Mulder's fire burned way too bright for his own good, and it sparked something in Alex he didn't even know he was capable of feeling. Something electric and dangerous and painful that he tried to get rid of, just to fail time and time again.

The airport encounter forced Alex to face the ugly truth that Mulder could easily destroy him in every way possible. Alex knew he should have killed the man the very second he noticed that he hesitated to do so. He had allowed spooky Mulder to matter to him, but why? Because of his laser‑focused expression when he picked up a trail? His intensity and resolution to hold on to even the most outrageous of theories? Those indefinable hazel eyes that seemed to change from green to blue to grey with each of his unpredictable mood swings? That ridiculous red speedo he had so flippantly sported in front of his new partner? The brilliant mind that somehow always ended up torturing him more than it served him?

Mulder was everything Alex was not. And still, the expert profiler remained painfully and willfully blind when it came to Alex. It probably was for the best.

After Alex had convinced Mulder that he was still valuable enough to not let him bleed out from an abdominal gunshot, he had been sent to the restroom to clean himself up. With an even more generous time limit of three minutes before Mulder would come in and kill him. If only he had followed up on the threat. His intention had been to execute Alex, but maybe he could have saved him from the nightmare that followed instead.

The moment of confusion when Alex saw a woman standing next to him at the urinals. Then, before he had any chance to react, her hand grabbing him by the neck, lifting him up with inhuman strength. Her lips pressing against his. Something slick and oily pouring into his mouth and down his throat, seeping into every cell of his body…

The all too vivid memory of the viscous goo crawling down his esophagus was enough to send up his stomach contents in the opposite direction. Alex winced as he threw up a measly spatter of milky liquid. While his abdominal muscles kept on clenching harshly, the rest of his body shivered like he was freezing. He still felt his mind drowning in that pitch black fluid, reducing him to a helpless observer. Alex wasn't Alex anymore, his shell and eyes and voice had been fully controlled by the sentient alien virus. And he hadn't known where the black oil would eventually take him back then, but he knew it now, and he didn't want to go there, anywhere, but not there.

Alex jerked with a juddering heave and desperately clung to the toilet while a thick stream of vomit gushed from his mouth. The coffee and bagel Mulder had so generously allowed him to consume at one of the airport bistros spilled from his lips, barely digested. Alex trembled as he felt the soggy lumps coming up. This forceful, uncontrollable act of his stomach emptying itself overwhelmed him with the most horrible body memory of expelling an entirely different substance…

No. No, no, no. Alex couldn't change the past, but that didn't mean he had to relive it. It took all of his usually perfect control to keep himself from hyperventilating, possibly inhaling the chunks of dough, avocado and fried egg he kept on bringing up. The mess he spewed into the porcelain bowl flickered before his eyes.

Why hadn't Mulder noticed that it wasn't him who had returned from the restroom? The agent hated him with a passion, but he also knew him, probably better than anyone else. Was there something inherently faulty about him that made it so easy for the oil to take over his persona? Unlike the former hosts, the parasite moved Alex in such a natural, effortless way – even greeting Mulder with a snarky remark. But something had to be different, right? Alex wanted to scream at Mulder to look at him, just this one time. Like he didn't know exactly that Mulder only saw what he wanted to see once he had made up his mind.

And so it all ended in the abandoned missile silo.

Alex on top of a giant triangular structure that had pulled him closer like a magnet. Waiting for something, anything to happen, now that the virus had reached its destination. Then, suddenly, an overpowering nausea crashing at him him like a tidal wave. For a moment, Alex' half-stifled consciousness was certain that the thing inside of him had given him radiation sickness. Like the people it had fried with blinding flashes through his eyes. Alex was used to killing people, but he wasn't used to cause – and witness – severe radiation burns. This was not how he wanted to die. And he didn't die, but what happened next wasn't that much better.

Shaken by retch after retch, Alex doubled over and violently puked up the black oil. It oozed out of his mouth, his nose, his eyes. Alex couldn't stop gagging as the viscid fluid kept on coming up from God-knows-where. It hurt, it burned, it made him feel sick to his very core, but most of all, it was terrifying. With his eyes wide open in sheer panic, mouth agape, Alex vaguely saw the shiny dark puddle he had just vomited out of every facial orifice. It slipped over the stone-like surface of the object – the UFO – and somehow melted into the spiral shape on top.

Alex collapsed and curled up into a ball, shuddering, panting, sobbing. He was covered in an oily residue, his skin slick with the remains of the alien virus that had used, left and discarded him. The repulsive taste remained on his tongue and it didn't go away, no matter how often Alex spat out and gagged weakly. Then he realized he was still lying on the vessel that now contained the black oil and scrambled away. Disoriented and struggling to control his body again, Alex slid down the UFO and crawled towards the massive door – just to find it shut tight.

He was locked in. Trapped in silo 1013, buried alive with that thing. Panicking, Alex banged against the steel door. He screamed and cried and begged and slammed his hands against the metal until they bled. Someone had to find him and let him out and get him away from the creature that had possessed him. But no one came and he kept on screaming and punching and-

With a sharp jolt, Alex lurched towards the toilet bowl again and hurled up whatever murky liquid was left inside of him. He clutched at the seat to prevent his quivering body from falling over while his spasming muscles forced his stomach to empty itself completely. Ironically, Alex almost wished to taste the vomit he brought up. Anything was better than the abrasive, sulfury rotten-egg flavor of the oil that would probably stay with him until his dying day.

Alex almost choked on the bile he retched out as the door behind him swang open. Shit. Even in his pitiful state, he should have never forgotten to lock himself in. And still, a miserable little part of him instantly spiraled back into blind anxiety just at the thought of a locked door. Which was ridiculous, considering the fact that the closing mechanism would have been on his side, but Alex' high-strung nervous system didn't care. His stomach churned again, rocking his body with dry heaves until he managed to bring up a mouthful of bitter liquid.

"You're throwing up, Krycek?" Mulder said it like it was the most absurd, yet amusing sight ever.

"Sorry, you already missed the best part", Alex rasped and quickly flushed the toilet. This was humiliating enough without Mulder inspecting the remains of his regurgitated meal. He could only hope the agent wouldn't notice how shaky his hand still was. Get a grip, Alex, he scolded himself. You've been through this before, it will go away, you know perfectly well it can't actually hurt you.

"I didn't expect you to have weak stomach." Instead of the usual anger and contempt, Mulder choked out a laugh. "Good to know your weakness is greasy airport food. Remind me to make a note of it."

"Glad you're having a good time", Alex snapped. He was tired. Couldn't Mulder stick to his beloved little beatings instead of trying to be witty? Alex felt too worn out to come up with an appropriate response. Mulder was paid to read the mind of suspects, unveil their hidden motives and predict their next move. Was it so hard to connect the dots and figure out that Alex had been infected with the oil-alien in the Hong Kong airport toilet? Well, Alex could hardly blame him. With Mulder's justified sense of betrayal and desire for revenge, his mind probably refused to acknowledge that Alex was even capable of having human emotional reactions.

It was probably for the best that Mulder didn't get a chance to answer. A middle-aged man with a shiny bald head and a ridiculously expensive looking suit entered the restroom. He cast a sceptical glance at Alex who was still hugging the porcelain throne.

"He's acrophobic", Mulder explained with slightly crooked, yet therefore even more disarming smile. "Fear of flying. It's always the same before departure. Don't worry, it's not contagious – only during severe turbulences."

The business man responded with a sympathetic nod. To keep up the facade, Mulder held out his hand to help Alex back on his feet. For a moment, he put an arm around Alex' shoulders to lead him to the sinks. Maybe as part of the act, maybe to prevent him from doing anything stupid; to keep his enemy close, so to speak. Clueless, unsuspecting Mulder. He didn't have the slightest idea what he was doing.

Alex knew that Mulder would be his downfall. The one person he'd always want, even though he could never have him. It couldn't go on like this. But still… it wouldn't hurt to pretend, just for a moment. He was still shaky, dizzy, cold, probably the aftermath of all that adrenaline flooding his body. Mulder's presence, his touch, was everything Alex could have asked for, even if it was just as unreal as the memories that had come back to haunt him. Just to calm his nerves, Alex deluded himself into thinking they were still partners on their way home from something like an office party. Maybe a little drunk, so who knew how this would end?

Of course, it ended at the basin with Alex washing the sheen of cold sweat from his pallid face and rinsing his mouth several times. They had a plane to Siberia to catch. For a brief moment, the glimpse of another memory flickered in the back of Alex' mind. Little Alyosha on the tip of his toes, staring at the northern lights with big eyes, oblivious of the biting cold that even froze the breath coming out of his mouth. But that was another person in a another life and the door leading back there was permanently shut.

It was time for Alex to get his act together and look ahead. No more delusions of things that would never be. He had to end this, once and for all.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

In case someone's interested: Because we never learn about Krycek's backstory in the series, my personal version is heavily influenced by Sylvia's The Gift of an Enemy, probably my all time favorite fanfiction. It's beautifully written, perfectly portrays the complex characters and their relationship and features a legit X-Files case.

Needless to say, I had a massive crush on Krycek as a kid and the scene where he throws up the black oil had quite the impression on me. I remember reading an interview with the actor Nicholas Lea where he said that he doesn't care about looking good on screen, but prefers doing something interesting. He said: “Did you see 'Apocrypha'? At the end of that episode, in the missile silo, it was not attractive at all, but I loved doing it.” Any my very confused ten-year-old self was like: Uuuuuhm... I'd like to disagree, that's definitely not what I saw. I guess most of us had those revealing moments while discovering their love for emeto.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Archive of our own: Up all night to get Bucky

tumblr: birdnamedenza

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theold-ultraviolence · 8 days

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i think what is worth discussing abt aemond is how we interpret him without forgetting where is the line between canon/show aemond and fanon aemond. imho it comes down to question if one thinks in his heart filled with rage, jealousy and hatred could be a place for love? i personally don't think so because i was in similar place when i was fueled by negative emotions. and let me tell you this, they pollute everything. now i can reflect on this because i let go of my anger and hatred and discovered who am i without them. the whole point of clinging onto anger, jealousy, any negative emotion is they made you feel strong, powerful, capable. in same manner why insecure people feel better when they put others down. people regulate emotions in different ways and often it's easy for emotions to control you. i really understand where aemond is coming from, why anger, bitterment, jealousy are his 3 main emotions and why these 3 emotions control him. what surprises me is when others claim he's good brother to helaena (even though he wanted to claim dreamfyre because helaena didn't fly on her often), good uncle to twins (there's no proof in books or show, so it's fanon), good son to alicent (he misbehaved the most during dance and left her so she ended up in prison and tortured). i think many people just choose to turn a blind eye to what aemond is when it suits them. nothing against fanon interpretations, i just wish people in this fandom were more aware where canon ends and fanon begins because they confuse one with the other or assume their own headcanons are canon. nevertheless i really like your version of aemond.

I'm probably gonna sound shallow as hell but, the only reason why I started watching House of the Dragon was because of the pictures of Ewan I saw as Aemond that got me intrigued about who he was. I've said this from the beginning when I started posting about him, I had never even watched Game of Thrones, much less read the books. Fantasy hasn't ever been a genre I was into, I'm more into horror.

BUT I watched House of the Dragon and found myself very immersed. I've even started watching Game of Thrones and liking it! When I started writing for Aemond, I did my best to look up more about the character beyond the show, and have read little tidbits of the books, and absolutely. Show Aemond and book Aemond aren't the same. But I think most of us are drawing from Ewan's interpretation of him. Ewan gave Aemond a certain vulnerability to the character that opened up the realm of possibility, and it's where most of us saw the opportunity to explore that vulnerability and softness, and well, self-indulge with more fluffy fanfiction. Cause otherwise, I think it would be a harder task to tackle writing scenarios involving love with book!Aemond because of what you say (I mean, I think there's a line of dialogue when he refers to Rhaenyra as 'that old cunny' ? doesn't he?) I can't speak for anyone else, but, my interpretation of Aemond is 100% based on Ewan's portrayal. But I am very happy to know you still enjoy my version of him! I try very hard to get my characterizations right (which is still a learning curve!)

Sadly, with everything going on in this fandom, I'm taking advantage of this message to just say I won't be writing for him anymore. I enjoyed it a lot and had a lot of wips, but this fandom feels very unsafe and like people sucked the fun out of it. I had been thinking of stopping writing for him for a while now, but this just solidified that choice.

#oh gosh sorry for the LONG ASS REPLY #anonymous

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icequeen1371 · 1 month

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Ahh siblings. I prefer to refer to him as my mother’s ’other spawn’. He’s virtue signaling, large. And I hate using that praise, it makes me cringe, but it’s very fitting. His Facebook, exudes, boasting of accomplishments and things he does for other people in order to get praise and pats on the back for being such a good person. And such a good guy. They only knew. It’s sad that he needs that approval in his life from outside sources and can’t give it to himself. I resent my health and chronic illnesses and diseases and conditions to the point where I can’t take care of my mother even though this is where she wanted to come. To be with me. For me to take care of her. And I’m really disappointed as is she. But from his post on Facebook yesterday, it seems as though he’ll be looking for a bigger place so that she can move in with him. I’m glad he dots on her and she will not be just staring at four walls as he is a very outdoor active person and she will enjoy that. I just hope he doesn’t empty her bank account while she’s there. He’s been known for that ever since he was a team. Nothing but begging for money and living beyond his means. Paying for escorts with money he borrowed from her. Borrowing money, then coming down for Christmas and giving lavish presents to her. It’s insane the amount of stuff That I know about him with proof of it all. That aside, I’m glad he’s enjoying all the praise he’s getting for being “such a good and loving son”. But my rejection sensitivity dysphoria is cranked to an 11 since seeing all that. I know it bothers me that I can’t take care of myself and have her here, But seeing the people that I’ve known for years, who I thought were my family, friends, who have sent no wishes of condolences to me whatsoever, but our commenting on his post. And no one says specifically that I’m not a good daughter, I know that, But, rejection, sensitivity dysphoria is a beast. And it’s making me believe that it’s being implied. So I’m trying to ignore that and push that off to the background. For now I’ll just focus on how blind everyone is to the type of person he really is. I honestly gave them more credit than they deserved because they obviously can’t see through his act and people like that are usually like that themselves. And I can’t stand fake or superficial people. The more I discover about my autism since being diagnosed to years ago, the stronger my traits seem. Or maybe that it’s that I’m unmasking so much, but I don’t seem very tolerant of people like that. And why should I be? It’s fake. It’s all fake. The passive aggressiveness, the beating around the bush, just say what you actually mean. I’ve always hated that. Just come right out and say it. There’s a way to be truthful and honest and straightforward without being mean. Most people just aren’t aware of how to do that because they’re not emotionally intelligent enough. I’m glad I’ve grown enough to have an emotional IQ, although I feel like things will be flying out of my mouth at the funeral that people didn’t hear. But like my mother said, so be it. She knows certain people deserve to hear certain things, and she knows she’s too polite to do it. She may actually enjoy the funeral.

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thegoddesswater · 2 years

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Happy (late) Blorbo Blursday! You listed off a LOT of characters so choose the one you feel like you haven't given enough love to recently to do these questions for! Who is their best friend? How did they become best friends? Do they have any previous friends who they are no longer friends with? Why? -@athenswrites

Happy (what is now the day after) Blorbo Blursday! @athenswrites

Out of everyone on the list, I definitely stuck Sleepshine on there hoping someone would be intrigued enough by that name alone to ask and give me an excuse to show him some love. So... we're going with Sleepshine (or "My Darling Sleepers" as I also often refer to him)

Okay -- VERY important facts to know about Sleepshine before I start: He is a tortoise. Who can speak. And is absolutely no smaller than an SUV.

Still with me? Good.

His best, and oldest, friend is King Xalvadore Flowerchild. They met as children (or child and tortlet, I guess) after Sleepshine, having been illegally imported into the country for purpose of being sold on the exotic pet black market, escaped from the dealers and wandered his way into the royal gardens. He took up residence there for a couple months, munching on the veritable feast of delicious plants, keeping mostly out of sight, and generally confusing the heck out of the gardeners. One day, young Xalvadore (then Prince) was having a very grumpy kind of day and he found what looked like a great rock to kick around in the garden to vent his frustrations on -- at this point Sleepshine was probably only about the size of a Yorkshire terrier, and Xalvadore had not yet been diagnosed as "legally blind without glasses". So it was a definitely a shock when the "rock" not only screamed as it went flying into a bush, but came running back to bite him in the shoe. There was a lot of yelling and name calling at that point, and eventually someone had to get Xalvadore's mother to come see what the ruckus was about. With the Queen as mediator, she got them both calmed down and made Xalvadore (grudgingly) apologize. That evening, after dinner, Xalvadore decided that he genuinely felt bad and he headed out to the garden with a veggie plate peace offering. And so began their odd and beautiful friendship.

Once Sleepshine has decided someone is his friend they are pretty much his friend for life. (He's cold-blooded, but warm-hearted) However, due to some borderline regicidal, and definitely illegal actions taken by Xalvadore's brother-in-law, Sleepshine has decided that they are definitely Not Friends Anymore. And no amount of apology vegetables is changing his mind about that.

#I do not talk about Sleepshine nearly enough #Also yes if Sleepshine had been a real rock Xalvadore almost definitely broken his foot and would proceed to have an even WORSE day #Not gonna lie this is like my favourite (and most ridiculous) friendship backstory for my characters #blorbo blursday #Sleepshine #Xalvadore Flowerchild

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secret-ssociety · 2 years

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Heyy can I request a Camilo x Nymph! Reader? Thank you : ]

ʜᴀᴍᴀᴅʀʏᴀᴅ

part one

Pairing(s): Camilo x Nymph!reader

Warnings: mentions of violence, murder and genocide

A/N: I ENJOYED WRITING SO FUCKING MUCH. also idk with the song, I just felt like it matched the vibe

masterlist

[ 2 ]

day one

Camilo was too pissed to admit he was lost, but he really was. It wasn't like him to wander off so far from the village, but then again, it wasn't like him to fight with his family in the first place. His only comfort in the midst of his anger was that he was still within the limits of Encanto, for the mountains around it were so tall there was no way he could pass them without noticing.

Wherever he looked, he could only find trees that were simultaneously too different and too similar to be a reference point to where he was. The more he walked, the more thick vegetation seemed to become and the more humid the air around him got, the less he could try to guess where he was standing.

It wasn't that he was in a rush to get back to casa Madrigal, he definitely wasn't thrilled about the profuse apologies he'd have to sing his parents and grandmother for the heated argument they had gotten into, him being the child in the situation, but he did fear having to find his way back under the moonlight, when the animals that weren't used to human presence came out of their burrows to roam in the darkness.

Maybe it had been an hour since he realised he was lost, maybe it had only been fifteen minutes, but the weak daylight dropped quickly, allowing the fireflies to come out from beneath the leaves and Camilo couldn't help but feel a pair of eyes of the back of his neck.

He tried not to panic, but in the silence of the night the songs of the insects on the bushes sounded like a warning, the wind howling between the branches of the trees, like a reprimanding for having wandered so far into the forest and every broken branch on the floor, even the ones broken by his own feet, told him of predators waiting to jump on him.

And then, he heard it. A swift pace upon the fallen leaves that was almost like a whisper and made Camilo shift into a random person as the hairs on his arms rose, he stood there completely still, even closer his eyes, waiting to hear the sound again on top of the deafening thunder of his heart's fast pace.

He did.

For the first time he started thinking on the fact that his family was probably looking for him, that he had been gone for hours and if something happened to him, he would have to rely on pure luck to be found. Camilo didn't know if his eyelids were still closed or if it was so dark he might as well be blind, but with each passing second, the sound inched closer, and slower.

Right when he thought his death was staring at him in the face, a voice sounded, "what are you doing here?"

He opened his eyes abruptly. The voice was soft, shiny and harmonic, it wasn't owned by someone older than him... it wasn't the kind of sound he was expecting in that moment.

"Are you lost?" This time the voice was more urgent, but it still sounded like a melody. Camilo looked around, but he didn't see anyone standing near.

"Where are you?" He asked looking for them intently.

His question was met with nothing but silence, so long he almost started to doubt his own sanity. It wasn't until a firefly started flying from one tree trunk to the other that he was finally pointed in the direction of the source of the voice, its small light slightly illuminating their face. Camilo wasn't sure he could have turned into them if he had tried.

The creature that stared back into his eyes hid half their body behind a tree, but didn't hide completely from Camilo's gaze. They were a few inches shorter than him, they had a head with a face in it, a pair of arms and a pair of legs, and no other similarity to a human.

Pale green was their skin, for starters, but the vines that climbed through their arms were a much more intense tone of green. Their eyes lacked of an iris, they were completely black, but the curiosity that sparkled in them made it impossible for them to inspire fear. It looked like they only had one brown stained lip under their pointy nose, their mouth closed shut. But it was their hands that first called Camilo's attention, the unnaturally long and pointy fingers that held tightly to the tree's bark.

"What are you?" He asked in a whisper that sounded like all the air had been stolen from his lungs.

"Don't you think that's a rude question?" They chided, making Camilo blush at his imprudent choice of words. "Are you lost?" They repeated, Camilo didn't think know if he nodded in response, but no verbal answer had left his mouth. Still, they gracefully lifted their arm into the direction behind their back. "That's the way to the village, the fireflies will guide you."

Like in cue, all the fireflies of the clearing flew into the given direction, lighting up a path for Camilo to follow. He shook his head from the shock. "No, wait!" He exclaimed, but he knew they weren't there anymore.

Obedient, he followed the firefly lane and just like the creature had said, he found himself back in the village, where storm clouds had taken over the sky and he was practically dragged back to his house, were his family was on the edge of despair because of his disappearance. They were all so worried, no apologies were requested.

Honestly, Camilo didn't even remember what the fight had been about.

He spent most of the night tossing and turning, unable to settle his thoughts. The imagery going through his mind was so loud his sister could probably hear them, but in that moment he only had room in his head for the strange creature he had stumbled upon.

day two

Camilo Madrigal had never, in his fourteen years of life, finished his chores as fast as he did that day. His family thought the reason he was free of tasks shortly after lunch was the argument that had surfaced the day before, but in reality he wanted to go back to the forest, where they had encountered the fairy looking creature for lack of a better word.

He walked mindlessly into the forest, hoping he would find his way back to the same clearing of the past night or that the creature would find him first. Looking around intently, he wished for his sister's gift, her magical ears would be useful for him to hear the whisper of the creature's run.

After what felt like hours walking, he started to doubt his sanity once again, suddenly everything that happened the night before could be mistaken for the wind and the curious shapes of the trees. What if he had imagined it all?

"Are you lost again?" He jumped from the scare, turning around to where the voice had came from.

There they were, standing in front of him in the broad daylight, without hiding and definitely not a product of their imagination. Their green skin was more vibrant under the light and this time Camilo could appreciate the strings of leaves on top of their head held together by flowers and branches, resembling hair. They were carrying a bunch of nenuphars on their arms and looked at Camilo inquisitively.

"What are you?" He asked again, before regretting having used the same words he had been reprimanded for. "No. Sorry. I mean... you're not human."

"What gave it away?" They responded sarcastically, but Camilo was too struck to fall into it.

"Are you... like... a fairy thing?" That wasn't much better, he feared, but he couldn't come up with anything better.

"No, I am not, but let me tell you that the fae would be very upset with that description." They said walking past them to the small lake that was a few feet away. "I'm a hamadryad. Content?"

"A hamadryad..."

They sighed, kneeling beside the shore to start gently placing the lilies over the water. "You know what a nymph is?" Camilo let out a small affirmative sound. "Think, a nymph of the trees."

Camilo nodded, processing the information. Magic wasn't new to him, he had grown up around it, he had a magical gift himself, but he had never heard of magical creatures living in the confines of the town. "So... you live in the trees." He pointed up, to the treetops.

"I live in one tree," the hamadryad looked back at him, "specifically, the one you're standing on."

"Sorry." Camilo exclaimed jumping away from the roots he was standing on. He looked at them, there were so many things he wanted to ask, but he begun with the most appropriate. "Do you have a name?"

He feared the wording of the question would offend the creature, but they answered calmly, "Y/N."

"Y/N," Camilo repeated with a nod, "I'm—"

"Camilo Madrigal." Y/N finished for him, putting one nenuphar on the water at a time and seeing them float away. "I know who you are."

"How—"

"I've been here for a long time," they explained, "longer than you and your family, longer than the mountains."

That statement completely lost Camilo. Encanto and the mountains surrounding it had been there for over forty years, and Y/N looked hardly older than him, much less more than half a decade old. "How old are you?"

"Let's say I'm fifteen," they answered after a few seconds of pondering, cupping their hands and submerging them in the water once the last water lily was placed.

"What do you mean ‘let's say’?" He asked frowning. "How old actually are you?"

"A hundred and fifty in what you'd count as human years."

Each answer left Camilo more and more confused. "In human years. How old are you in... nymph years?"

"We don't have those."

"What—"

"If I explained it to you," they interrupted him again, "you would get a really bad headache and I don't know how to care for human ailments. Besides, your cousin is looking for you."

Frowning, Camilo approached them and saw an image on the swirl of water between their hands, which he didn't even bother to ask about. Luisa walked around the town square with an angry look, asking people if they had seen her cousin.

"It's something about donkeys," Y/N told them.

Realization struck Camilo, he had forgot to lock the stables after Luisa carried all the donkeys inside. "I have to go," he announced hurriedly, "can you...?" He didn't know how to finish the sentence, but Y/N caught the message. With a flick of their wrist all the butterflies that were flying near them marked a path out of the woods. Camilo run to the exit, but stopped in his tracks when he reached their tree. "Can I come back tomorrow?"

"Well, you already came back today."

He took that as a yes.

day three

Doing exactly as he had done the day before, although this time making sure he had locked the gate to the stables, he finished all his chores before the sun began to set and made his way to the stables, after telling his parents he would be in his room for the rest of the day.

Camilo didn't really know how was he supposed to find Y/N when it always seemed like they were the ones finding him, so he decided his best shot was to try to find their home tree again and hope they would be near.

He found them before getting there, hanging upside down from a tall tree branch as they gently placed flowers on the bird nest beneath them and the baby birds sang happily at them.

"Hello," he announced himself.

"You came," Y/N notted.

"You thought I wouldn't?"

"I had my doubts."

In one swift motion, they unhooked their legs from the branch they were holding on to, landing almost weightlessly on Camilo's arms. The boy looked at the dryad with wide eyes after having experienced a small heart attack because of their stunt. "Nice," was all Y/N said.

They got down from his arms and started walking, without even looking back to see if he was following. In no time, they reached the clearing they had initially met at. "How did you find me that night?"

"I was following you," they answered nonchalantly.

"You were following me."

"From the moment you entered the forest," Y/N nodded, "you know, in case you died out here and I could do spells with your bones."

Camilo stared at them for a second, before seeing the mocking smirk on their face as they walked. "Oh, it has a sense of humour," he laughed with them.

day nine

Soon, Camilo's visits became routine. He finished his chores before anyone else and disappeared right after lunch, running into the forest, hoping Y/N would find him. His family had started to come with all sorts of theories to why he ran away every day, from a secret girlfriend to some big prank waiting to happen.

"I learned this from your people," they told him handing him a hollow rock that worked as a cup for the tea in it, before skipping from one rock to the other back to were their teapot boiled.

Camilo didn't mean to stare at them all the time, but there was something about how they were something slightly too magical to be human. They seemed to breath something earthier than oxygen. They were a hyperactive child and a very old wise adult at the same time. There was a chaotic nature around them, a wreaking havoc that kept everything in place.

"How often do you go down to the village to spy on us?" He joked, blowing softly on the hot liquid.

"Never," Y/N answered widening their eyes, "humans are scary. They're big, and loud, and they smell weird."

"Have you had bad experiences with humans?" Camilo asked in the same funny tone, but curiosity stirred inside him when he saw the way they moved their finger across the edge of their cup nostalgically. "Y/N..."

"Some."

Camilo kept in silence for a few seconds before having the courage to ask, "is it just you? Did the mountains separate you from your family?"

Y/N shook their head. "No. I was already alone."

He wanted to know more, among the myths he had learnt at school, he had read those that spoke of nymphs, spirits of the earth with a heavy connection to life itself. In all the tales he knew, they lived in great communities of their own...

"Before you were born, before any of you got here, the world was a confusing place." They raised their head up to the top of the mountains. "Behind the mountains, it probably still is. Humans destroyed everything as they passed, they burned their villages to the ground and killed their own brothers for nothing else than greed."

"When they found us, we'd heard stories, horrifying tales of bloodshed and hatred, but we still welcomed them to our world. We fed them, we cured their wounds, we tried to educate them on the ways of the earth, but they didn't like it, they craved for more."

As if the forest remembered too, every animal around went quiet, the water running in the river went silent, even the wind stopped gushing through the branches. The whole forest, every living thing in it was paying attention.

"The humans thought our magic was in our blood, and if they had it, it would be theirs, so they took one of us and tried to take it. When it didn't work, they took another one. And so on. Until they realised it, the magic, didn't work like that. We thought the would leave us alone then, but instead they came for all of us, purely out of anger." They looked up into the trees, memories flooding their head. "Some of us managed to hide in the trees, when it was over, everyone left... except me."

"Why?" Camilo's voice sounded hoarse, which made Y/N's eyes pop in his direction, to find tears coming down his cheeks that he was probably unaware of. "Why did you stay?"

"I'm a hamadryad, this is my home, it is my duty to care for it." They shrugged grabbing the cup from his hand, for the tea had gotten cold. "Without someone to protect it, the forest wouldn't survive for long."

Camilo swallowed back a lump in his throat, "why?" He repeated.

"I just—"

"No, I mean... Why did you welcome me? I'm a human like them."

"Not like them," Y/N shook their head, pouring the tea back into the teapot, "you have not been blinded by greed. Humans are not bad, they're not born with evil in their hearts. You and I share the love for this land, we share our home, why would we consider each other enemies? You're my friend, Camilo."

The boy wiped his face rather aggressively, so much his cheeks were left with a reddish colour and the pattern of his wool ruana. Slowly, the forest resumed its peaceful noise, while Y/N silently stirred the tea with a stick.

"They were the same," they let out in a mumble.

"The same what?" Camilo arched an eyebrow.

"The same men that killed your grandfather," their voice, usually melodic, sounded dark, like the murmur of a shadow.

Camilo's throat dried up in a second. "How do you know?"

Y/N looked back at him sympathetically. "I was there, I watched the Manigua light up the candle in your grandmother's hand, in response to the blessing the Great God placed upon your family. It's not far from here... do you want to see it?"

Camilo had spent the last days listening to the river on the background of their conversations, but he had never actually seen it, until then. Yellow butterflies flew above the clear water, the colourful algae on the bottom of the river shined under the light of the sun, it was too beautiful of a place to have witnessed such horrible things.

The boy silently walked over to a big stone on the riverside and sat on it, taking on what that place had meant for his family. He felt Y/N sit by his side on the same rock and softly rest their head on his shoulder, trying to comfort his grieving.

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wilt1ng · 2 years

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The Collector: Asa Emory Headcanons

I have Asa Emory brain rot, so what's better than to write about it?

These are primarily opinion (some fact), and just for fun! Requests are on. ♡

Asa is canonically blind(?) When doing some research on the first movie, "The Collector", I stumbled upon an interview with Asa Emory's original actor; Juan Fernandez. In it is quote;

"At what point do you think or did you decide that The Collector knew Arkin was in the house?"

JF: "The Collector ALWAYS knew that somebody was in the house. Talking blind again think of Al Pacino in Scent Of A Woman, his moves, the way he smells, The Collector was the same. The Collector was blind and a blind person knows – they have a sixth sense. You think that’s he’s going to go inside the house and he’s not going to know from the smell or the air changes that there is someone in there – then he wouldn’t be The Collector."

[I'm not sure if this carries into the second movie??]

Asa Emory has some heavy daddy issues. On his wiki page it explains how The Collector came to be; how when Asa Emory was a boy his father went insane due to digesting chemicals meant for taxidermy, killed his family, stuffed them, and placed them around the table for Thanksgiving dinner. Asa was the only survivor, however the experience warped his mind.

In the first movie "The Collector" when Asa is about to discover Hannah (the hidden child), Arkin (Mr. Badass) yells profanities/insults at Asa in order to get his attention. One slur catches Asa's attention in particular; being the "F" slur. It VISIBLY pissed him off, so it's safe to assume his father used this word often when referring to his son.

Humans <<< Bugs/Insects; Self explanatory for the most part. He will treat bugs with more respect than any of his victims.

Asa Emory taking interest in you is a fate worse than death.

Every so often he kidnaps a "lucky" lady to which he keeps around. In the sequel "The Collection" it is shared to the viewers that Asa has kept a young girl named Abby. Abby vocally expresses how she is the "Collector's favorite" and how he has taken a liking to her.

I theorize that even Asa can get lonely, occasionally seeking another person to which he has full control over. Regarding his type; I believe he likes the "pretty girls". The dolled up and innocent ones catch his eye. He most likely goes for the easier to manipulate girls, the ones without a flame to tame, and the ones who appear weaker.

"Pretty... pretty girl."

I imagine Asa's voice as being very husky and low from lack of use. It's a very demanding voice; he's able to provoke fear just by speaking, although he prefers not to around victims especially.

Regarding words, The Collector doesn't use them often. I mean, who does he have to talk to? But every so often; when he wishes to express himself verbally, the sentences may be short.

"Sit."

(Rare instance of Asa being nice)

"Sit... please."

The Collector never kills without a performance.

In the first movie, Asa's movements reminded me of a predator; a black panther to be precise. He moved in a calculated manner with a sort of swiftness. In the second movie, I feel as if we're introduced to a more brutish side.

If Asa discovered a tattoo of an insect on one of his victims I can imagine one of two things happening.

He carves the tattoo from their skin to where he dries it, preserving it similar to leather.

They strike his interest, for better or for worse. Maybe he keeps them around to replace Abby.

BONUS: Asa discovers your tattoo of your favorite insect and it becomes his new nickname for you.

"My little dragon-fly."

#slasher #slashers #asa emory #horror horrormovies headcanons billylenzheadcanon #headcanon #the collection #the collector #imagine #horroredit #horror movies #horror #thriller

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raineydays411 · 3 years

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Mission In Progress

Steve Rogers x daughter!reader

Summary: Steve realizes that his past behavior may have cost him the love of his daughter.

A/n: Hello! This is the second part to my Steve Rogers series! I hope you like it and also I hope y’all get the little references I put in these lol💕

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean Natasha taught you?”

Oh shit.

That was the collective thought between you, Nat, Clint, and Tony. It was well known among the team that Steve didn’t want his daughter learning ANY form of self defense, but those four thought that was ridiculous. She was Captain America's daughter, she definitely would need to fight off an enemy sooner or later.

“well...nat taught me the basics on how to defend myself, she said it would come in handy someday.” You say quietly, picking the thread on your sleeve rather than looking at your father.

“Romanoff, you taught her how to fight?” Steve said, fury bleeding into his eyes. “I made it perfectly clear--”

“Steve, its unreasonable for her not to know how to fight, she's the daughter of one of the worlds greatest defenders. If she doesn’t fight, she’s dead.”, Natasha said bluntly, staring Steve in the face as the other Avengers grew uncomfortable.

“She’s perfectly fine, it’s not like she leaves the Tower anyway.”

“Because if she did, you’d have someone follow her. It’s creepy, man” Tony butts in with a roll of his eyes. By now both Bruce and Thor had silently left the room, as both of them would be useless in this conversation.

“Oh, so Tony Stark is gonna teach me how to raise a kid? Isn’t that ironic.”

“It’s not like you’re doing any better on your own. All Y/n does is stay in her room and write in that book of hers, she doesn’t even talk to people her own age.”

“It’s safer that way and you all know it” Steve snaps, refusing to even look your way. “ I set those rules for a reason, and I don’t appreciate my team mate or friends going behind my back and breaking them.”

“Look, Steve we love you, but the way you’re going about this whole parenting situation is completely wrong.” Clint finally says. “ I get that you were thrusted into this role, we all do. But man, you can protect Y/n from everything and it’s not healthy for her to be locked away in the tower like--”

“Like some modern day Rapunzel”

“Thank you, Tony.”

“You all know the reason why she’s not allowed to leave. Its just safer that way.” Steve says, expecting the conversation to be over. “ Now, we’ll talk about this when we get back to --”

“You don’t lock me away for my protection” You say looking up with a determined face. Steve, obviously stunned you called him out like that turned to you and said

“ Excuse me?”

“ It was never about me. If you wanted me to be safe, you would have taught me how to defend myself as soon as you could. You would have told the world about me, just to make sure everyone knows not to mess with me.” You say, your brow furrowed. “ You say its for safety, but who’s safety is it really for?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve says in a low, slow tone.

“Everytime I come in a room, you tense up like I’m going to attack you.” You start to say, realizing that once you reveal what you noticed, things will never be the same. “ You monitor everything I do. You never allow me to be alone. You don’t talk to be about missions and don’t allow anyone else to.” You stand up off the couch. “ You refuse to acknowledge my mother, and won’t even let read the journal she left me.”

“That’s enough Y/n”

“No!” You shout. “ It’s not fair I don’t understand why you treat me like this.” Steve looks at you in surprise.

“ Y/n, you don’t understand.”

“ I do. You don’t trust me.” You finally say. “ You haven’t from day one, and I don’t know why. It's not like a six year old is a Hydra agent by disguise.”

Hearing this Steve freezes. He knows that all this surveillance was unnecessary. And deep down he knew that you could never hurt not even a fly. but that tiny voice in his head got the best of him. And even though he grew to love you more than he’d like to admit, the thought of you being am enemy scared him.

“ You are a threat.” Steve says stubbornly. “ You came out of nowhere, with nothing but a note in the middle of the night. Your mother is nowhere to be found, and I have no idea who to even look for. You look nothing like me and defiantly don’t act like me.”

Hearing these words is like a knife being repeatedly stabbed in your heart. It’s one thing to think that your dad doesn’t love you, it's another to hear them directly from his mouth.

“ I have done nothing for you to treat me like this. I have done nothing to lose your trust. I didn’t ask for my mother to leave me here with you. It’s not my fault.” You say, tears starting to well up in your eyes. “ That robot asked me to go with him you know?”

The whole room freezes. You never mentioned that when Clint picked you up from the Tower.

“ He asked me to go with him, because he said I had no one. I had nothing to loose. And now” You let tears run down your face. “ Now that I know he’s right, I still wouldn’t go with him. Because I would NEVER want someone to get hurt because of me.” And with that you pushed past the group of superheros and ran outside. You didn’t know where you were going, but you had to get out of that house.

You walk into town and into a bookshop that was surprisingly open at this hour. The clerk looked at you in annoyance as you wandered the isles quietly. Picking up a copy of Romeo and Juliet, you walk toward the counter to pay.

“Tch, Romeo and Juliet?” The cashier says

“What about it?” you ask, puzzled that he cared enough to mention it.

“Nothing if you’re thirteen and never had a boyfriend.”

“Oh really?” You say, eyes lighting up at the chance to talk to someone your own age without the gaze of an agent boring into your back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, there was a tense silence in the house. Steve left with the words you told him rattling in his brain.

“You know, Y/n always used to come to me for help picking out the perfect father's day gift for you.” Clint said breaking the silence in the room. “ She insisted we wake up hours before you to go to the shops just to surprise you. She loved wrapping the gift and the thought of making you happy.” He smiled bitterly. “ I loved every second of it, watching her reminded me of my own family. It broke my heart to see her little face deflate when you barely acknowledged the gift and treated it like it was a bomb or something.” He shakes his head and walks out. Natasha follows him and says ‘ Its late, it's not safe for her to be out there alone, I’m going to look for her.”. Then she’s gone. Leaving only Tony and Steve in the living room. It’s quiet for a few minutes. They can hear Clint playing with his children, Lila laughing as Cooper and Clint chase her.

“ You know, all my life I had to wonder if my dad loved me too.” Tony said suddenly. “ I guess that’s why I got along with Y/n so well.”

Steve sat on the couch and sighed. “ I guess I could’ve approached this differently.”

“That's your problem Rogers, you treat her like a mission. She’s a kid. Even I know that you can’t raise a kid that way.”

Steve exhaled through his nose. “So, what do you think I should do?”

Tony rolled his eyes again.” Well for one, you can go look for your fourteen year old daughter who ran out in the middle of the night in an area she doesn’t know.”

Steve's eyes widened and he shot up, “ Shit, I- I have to go find her.” and with that he ran out of the living room, leaving Tony alone as he heard him shout

“Language!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It didn’t take long for Steve to get into town. The only problem he really faced was figuring out where you might be. Almost everything was closed except for a liquor store and some bars. He started to panic, as he started to think about the possibility of you being hurt or kidnapped or--

“Hey bomb pop, over here” someone whispers

Steve looks around to see Natasha standing in front of a bookshop. He jogs up to her and asks

“Nat what are you--” “SHHH, look” she points into the window.

At first Steve didn’t know what he was looking at. All he saw was two kids flirting on some bean bags. But then he looked closer and realized that was his kid flirting on some bean bags. He got ready to burst in there and drag her out, which surprised him.

“What are you doing” Natasha harshly whispered, “This is the first time in years y/n has talked to someone her age, and I will NOT let you ruin it.”

“But does it have to be a boy” Steve whines, then he shrinks back as Nat glares at him.

“You have no right to play protective daddy right now, you--”

“Dad? Nat? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been about an hour since you started talking to Levi, the cashier. Even though he insulted your book choice

“It’s a play about two bratty kids who think they’re in love and then kill themselves, its pathetic”

He’s interesting. He has this harsh exterior that is refreshing to you. You liked that he didn’t handle you with kids gloves like the rest of the Avengers did. He let you stay behind after closing as long as you helped him clean, but you didn’t last long because apparently you “cleaned like a blind person with no hands” whatever that means. After cleaning you two sat and talked about music and his friends. It was nice. That was until you felt eyes on you.

Looking out the window you noticed two figures staring at you. One petite red head and a tall blonde to be more specific. Rolling your eyes, you say goodbye to Levi and thank him for one of the best nights you’ve had in a while. As you left he did something that surprised you.

“Hey brat, here’s my number.” He says as he gives you an old receipt, “ Don’t expect me to text you all night, I have a life too.”

You just smile and say thank you, blushing as you realize this was your first friend in years. You put the number in your pocket and walk outside.

“Dad? Nat?” You ask, cutting their little squabbling short. “What are you two doing here?”

Nat and Steve stand up straight.

“It was getting late and I was worried so I came to find you” Natasha said, “ But it seems to me that you were quite alright in there” She finishes with a smirk. You blush as you try to think of a retort. Before you say anything, you hear your dad clear his throat. You roll your eyes.

“Don’t worry, I wasn’t getting intel on how to kill you or whatever you think what will happen if i make friends.” You again push past the two avengers, your good mood spoiled as you walk away. You hear some harsh whispering then your name is called.

“Y/n” your father calls, “I think we need to talk.”

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Tag list: @angeldreineedshelp @night-thinqer @ilyimagines @vxidsti1es @big-galaxy-chaos

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #steve rogers x daughter!reader #tony stark imagine #tony stark x teen!reader #natasha romanoff #marvel x reader #marvel #avengers x teen!reader #poc reader

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kaypeace21 · 3 years

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Big brain moment for me: is realizing one of the main reasons Mike dislikes Max is because she's (subconsciously) a constant reminder that he isn't straight.

Dustin and Lucas are immediately into Max . And Mike questions this (since they don’t even know her). Mike"awesome??!you haven't even spoken a word to her! " Dustin (already crushing): " Hey! I don't have to . I mean LOOK at her."

*MIKE LOOKING HELLA CONFUSED XD

Troy (the homophobic bully, talking about el): "her head's shaved . She doesn't even LOOK like a girl."

(Not to mention all the people who also thought she looked like a boy and specifically thought she was Will- aka hopper, benny, and the diner customer).

We also know Dustin is remarking about Max’s physical appearance in that ep1 scene since this videogame-scene also occurs in s2e1 (the same ep Max is introduced) . This videogame- scene has lucas and Dustin fight over princess Daphne -and Lucas mentions how “princess daphne” is his. Foreshadowing the ending of the love triangle between the 2 boys (in relation to Max) .

What’s interesting is that historically dragon’s lair (was a nototriously difficult game)- and they used princess daphne’s attractiveness to convince straight-boys to continue playing the difficult game and waste their money .This is because, if the player finished the game- they would save and also marry princess daphne.

But what’s interesting is - Dustin plays it, and it’s implied Lucas has played the game the most (and even finished the game to get Daphne). However, we never see Will or Mike play the game or get sucked into Daphne’s ...appeal. In fact (right after this) Mike instead puts his arm around Will and suggests they get the top score in dig dug TOGETHER (and beat madmax’s top score instead). Not to mention in s1 Mike wrote a whole d&d story for Will-inspired by star wars/the events of s1 and replaced princess Leia with a king (aka Will). The king has a medal ceremony for the heroes since they k*lled the 7 headed monster for him ( Will: ”it was a 7. The demogorgan it got me″). Mike is not into princesses (he literally replaced a women crushed upon by nerdy/star wars fan boys) and replaced her with a king. connecting it even more to his lack of interest in the princess videogame/girls in general (and interest in Will) .

* These little details in ep 1 show how Mike isn’t like Dustin or Lucas. He doesn’t understand Lucas/dustin’s immediate attraction to daphne or Max in ep 1 (based on their feminine looks). Some people may claim he was attracted to El in Nancy’s dress/his grandma’s wig but i think this had more to do with the fact at that time El looked like the blonde popular girl jennifer hayes (who Lucas/Dustin were into). And so the idea of a girl who liked him (who looked like the most popular girl in school- who his friends were into )was appealing to his ego. Lucas (to Mike, referring to el while she is in her wig,dress, and makeup): “you’re just blind. Blind cause a girl isn’t grossed out by you.” Mike in s1 even later specified he preferred her without the wig/makeup. He says in the wig/dress she’s “pretty” but when El removes all of it she asks “Still pretty?” And he says YEAH! pretty. REALLY pretty.” And sorry his compliment to her at the snowball seemed pretty rehearsed/forced. Just like how he refers to her fem look in s3 as “cool” (like how Hopper says El’s new punk look is “cool”). In s3 we even have Lucas dress like the karate kid (cause max has a crush on him), nancy dresses based on 'new age' music (jonathan likes), so why does max imply El dresses in baggy male clothes for mike ? Saying about picking clothes " chose stuff that feels like you...not mike." Maybe cause mike prefers her dressing in a more masculine way?

Anyways, back on topic. s2e1 shows Mike doesn’t understand his friends immediate attraction to Max and Daphne’s feminine appearances and this ties back to Mike’s animosity to Max in the following s2 eps.

Later mike yells at max "hate you? How can I hate you? i don't even KNOW you!" (Mirroring what Mike said earlier to the smitten Dustin -when Dustin remarked on how he doesn’t really have to know her to think she’s awesome because he found her physically attractive). Mike says this comment to Max- when in canon Mike knew both el and Max for the exact same amount of time -a week . So somewhere in his subconscious he realizes crushing on el (who he ‘doesn't even know’) based on her then "boyish" look /will like appearance (after only knowing her a week) means something. Cause his straight friends (at least initially) are into Max for her more feminine appearance (after also only knowing her for a week) .And Dustin and Lucas were never into the boyish looking El (in s1- like they were with max in s2). So yeah every time Mike sees her - he's reminded that (in canon) he unlike his friends has never crushed on a single girl (except one who resembled a boy/ his male bff). Which (at least subconsciously) agitates him to think about. Max in response to him saying he doesn't hate her. Max: but you don't want me in your party! Mike: correct! Max: why not? Mike: CAUSE YOU’RE ANNOYING!To mike- max's very presence is a constant reminder he's not straight. Her presence makes him at least subconsciously start to think about things- he'd rather not. Like why he was attracted to the boyish looking el (who resembled Will) but not max, princess daphne, or any girl prior?

In s1 we know Mike knows what "gay" , 'fairy', and 'queer' is- all words he heard as insults towards Will . And eventually Mike snaps and attacks Troy for a specific hom*phobic comment making fun of Will being dead. Where Troy says, “Will’s in fairy land now. flying around with ALL THE OTHER FAIRIES. All happy and GAY!” . He attacks Troy in the school gym for subconsciously reminding him he’s gay -same place he yells at Max for doing the same thing. EL EVEN attacks both Max and Troy in the gym using her powers! (cough next time Mike saw Troy he literally flew from where Will ‘died’. (aka like ‘all the other fairies’. Troy even told Hopper Mike “flew” . That is another Mike is gay hint ) . So he probably doesn't even want to fathom the possibility he may be gay or in love with his male best friend (when taught it's something 'bad' by his peers and 80s society as a whole ). Especially when he sees how people already malign Will over such rumors.

So to Mike - Max is the personification of the thing he lacks - the ability to be attracted to girls-the innate ability to be what most deem 'normal'. The ability to be like his friends. And he sadly resents her for this.

Then in s3 max encourages el to dump him ( and says to Mike it's not just a break). And constantly points out how mileven just isn't that great- she yells at Mike about how he doesn't trust el nor respects her ability to make decisions. And tells el that he lied to her. And she also points out to Mike- how el was the one who decided to spy on him (and disrespect his privacy/boundaries). And even worse for Mike's straight facade with El (max gives El a feminine makeover in s3). Something he’s not genuinely attracted to.

To Mike(at least subconsciously)- she is a constant reminder that he’s not straight (in s2). And in s3, she points how the flaws of his comp het relationship with el .Which infuriates him .

So when Mike starts to accept his queerness- I suspect their relationship will improve.

Heck The fact MAX & Will also have a lot in common (but he’s only attracted to Will- a boy and not Max) could be another subconscious reminder he’s not straight (Which causes an additional layer of resentment).For max & Will: Both are poor, their bio dads both abandoned them leaving them with their respective mothers, both like horror films, comics and videogames, both are the youngest of 2 siblings. And both use bats in anger when emulating their ab*sers ,and both are heavily associated with rainbows (Max literally has a rainbow shirt collection/ Will's rainbow ship and the many other rainbow refs). Both also yell at Mike about how sh*tty they think the mileven relationship is in s3. Both have posters relating to beach films (Will has jaws /Max has endless summer).Costume designers said his s1's vest was supposed to be in homage to Marty mcfly (from back to the future). They gave Max Marty mcfly's skateboard in s2.And on Halloween she even dresses up as a movie-character who as a child dressed up as a clown on Halloween (Will’s fear/ what triggered him on Halloween) and whose surname is Myers (Byers?)

I also think Mike was a bit jealous and initially thought Will was into her too. But I think the prior reasons I just discussed was actually the main reason for the animosity.

UPDATE

*this annon pointed out a detail that pretty much just verified my first assumption.To mike- max's very presence is a constant reminder he's not straight-similar to troy doing the same thing (albeit for very diff reasons ). Her presence (and his inability to have a crush on her-like Lucas &Dustin do) makes him at least subconsciously start to think about things- he'd rather not. Like why was he attracted to the boyish looking el (who resembled Will)? And who he barely spoke to, and in his own words he “didn’t even know’ cause he only knew her for a week? But NOT max (who he knew for the same amount of time),and who Lucas/dustin have immediate attraction to/ think is “awesome” without talking to her (because of their feminine looks) .To Mike - Max is the personification of the thing he lacks - the ability to be attracted to girls-the innate ability to be what most deem 'normal'. The ability to be like his friends

We see this by the use of one word....

Having Max in s2 mention how Mike thought El was “awesome” . Is just icing on the cake- showing she’s a reminder to Mike he isn’t straight (and his romantic feelings for El aren’t genuine). She literally threw Mike’s words back at him-where Mike was judging his friends for thinking Max was “awesome” because of her looks-not words.When Mike did the same to El.

Lucas even says the ‘no/yes’ line next to Mike’s heart sign (which has a rainbow propelling a heart on it). In s3 (when dating el) he removed this sign. But symbolically we see it follow him everywhere -via El’s room having a drawing with a rainbow propelling a heart on it- with Mike’s name on it. Which is shown when he’s kissing El- showing no matter how hard he tries to act straight-he can’t escape his rainbow/ queerness.

In fact,in s3, when Max points out the flaws in m*leven she is wearing rainbow shirts (illustrating that she -like the rainbow-sign & drawing is a constant reminder to Mike that he’s not straight -which follows him everywhere). Similar to Troy who (in his rainbow shirt) interrupts Lucas claiming Mike has a crush on El- only to announce Will is gay/ and to only target Mike with such remarks after this .

Not to mention this whole -Max reminding him he’s not straight and can’t like girls in s2-3 just ties in to my theory Mike was projecting when telling Will “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls.”-here. And the whole theory Mike is emulating his parent’s loveless marriage with El-mentioned it here.

#max mayfield #mike wheeler #byler #byeler #will byers #lucas sinclair #dustin henderson

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luminnara · 3 years

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Flying On Wings Made From Feathers and Wax | Ganondorf x Gerudo OC | Ch 1

Chapter one | Chapter two

Summary: 10,000 years before the events of Breath of the Wild, a little Gerudo vai moves to the desert and makes a new friend in the form of the young Gerudo prince, Ganondorf. The two grow up together, enjoying a worry-free life...but distant memories of a long-dead demon king and a sheikah prophecy nag at everyone's minds, and tensions between the Gerudo and Hylians are on the rise. As the years pass, it becomes clear that this little vai will play an important role in the shaping of Hyrule. Loyalty and love will be tested, empires will rise and fall, and at the center of it all is that mysterious godly power...

Warnings: eventual violence and smut

The sand is hot.

The sun is unforgiving.

The desert is inhospitable, a dry, brutal place that tests and tries its inhabitants, a vast, sprawling land that will viciously take the life of anything unsuited to its harsh days and frigid nights. Few species manage to survive in such a place, a habitat ruled over by stern gods and haunted by restless spirits.

The Gerudo, though, lived proudly in the great desert, amongst the massive skeletons of ancient serpents and hidden by the raging sandstorms that kept much of the rest of the world away. In a land in which only the strongest survive, the Gerudo chose to become stronger, to thrive in a place other races like the Hylians and Rito hardly dared to venture to.

Gerudo women were powerful and proud, building a city and several outlying encampments for themselves. They preferred to remain reclusive, despite their generally peaceful relations with the Hylians and other races occupying the verdant spaces to the north of the desert, and as per a tradition created from centuries of hardships, no men of any race were permitted within the walls of Gerudo Town.

Save for one.

He was born beneath a harsh, burning sun, on the hottest day in a decade. Though his mother was no chief, the baby was royalty from the moment he drew his first breath and cried his first cry, and news of the new king traveled quickly. Only one male Gerudo was born every hundred years, always becoming king, as was the law, and on the day of his birth, the Gerudo celebrated. The bar was crowded, the people drinking and feasting while the new king was placed in a royal crib, a guard detail standing at the door. The current chief would continue to rule, until the boy came of age, at which time she would be expected to step down and relinquish the throne. There was almost never any resistance or arguing; this was an old Gerudo tradition, and it was always honored. The chief would take care of the tribe, as was expected of her, preparing the desert for the new king it was about to receive.

The infant was treated as a god. His mother was a warrior, tall and proud, and she claimed that his father was a hylian voe who was large for his kind. That didn’t matter much, though; Gerudo always produced Gerudo, and while a father’s genetics played some small part in determining how a child looked, they would never be anything but Gerudo.

This new baby, the prince of the Gerudo, was showered in gifts. Before he could stand, he was being dressed in the finest silks and most expensive jewelry, small gold bracelets and anklets adorning his chubby limbs. He was strong, his lungs capable of producing a loud, healthy cry, his small fists already packing quite the punch. The Gerudo saw this as a blessing, and surely, their prince was to grow into a capable king one day.

They did their best to focus on all of the good signs—that he would become strong, that he would be raised with respect and levelheadedness, that he would become a ruler worthy of the Gerudo throne. Surely, with so much adoration and positivity around him, their future king would stand tall and steady amongst the harsh sandstorms. He would not wither beneath the bright sun, nor would he be burned by the searing hot sands. His mother and the Royal guard would ensure that this rare Gerudo voe would know kindness and love, and they would do their best to always ignore any creeping feelings of dread.

“A prophecy? Bah!” His mother would say whenever the topic was breached. “There is no reason that it points specifically to this voe. It could refer to the next one. Or it could be complete nonsense, the paranoid ramblings of an old sheikah.”

“But in the ancient past—”

“In the ancient past what?” His mother would snap. “Evil will always exist in this world. There will always be a great demon to defeat, a fiend to cut down. Perhaps the next voe born into this tribe will become a monster...but not mine.”

And she would look down at the tiny face of her son, the baby sleeping peacefully in her arms, swaddled in silks, and she would find no malice there. How could she? He was innocent, an infant who was most concerned with napping until it was time to wake up and cry. There was no malice in this boy, and she would ensure that he grew up surrounded by love. There would be no chance for her son to become the demon king the sheikah spoke of. They were an ancient people, with impressive magic and wise elders...but to the Gerudo, they were just another race who turned a blind eye to the suffering of the desert dwellers.

The sheikah were no doubt watching for a male Gerudo, waiting for their prophecy from nearly a century earlier to play out, but the Gerudo were determined to hide their king. If the hylian royal family was alerted to the boy’s presence, there was a very strong possibility that they would demand his death--and that would surely spur on yet another war that no one wanted to fight. The Gerudo would defend their king until their dying breaths, loyal to the end, and perhaps to a fault...and they would do whatever it took to keep him safe. Amongst the harsh desert sands, they would do what they did best—remain strong and secluded, putting on a happy face for the rest of the world. Their king was sacred to them, and no one, not even the ancient sheikah, would meddle in their affairs.

On his first birthday, when it was clear that he would survive to see his childhood, the boy was finally given a name. In a great ceremony, the chief and his mother presented the baby to the rest of the tribe, and for the first time, they spoke his name:

Ganondorf.

A strong name for a strong boy, one destined to become a great king. His early years were spent toddling around the palace that would one day become his, occasionally being allowed outside into the blazing sun to see Gerudo Town and the people he would rule. As all children, he was high spirited and rambunctious, and as he grew, so did his energy. It became hard for his mother and the guards to keep him inside the palace, and eventually settled for keeping him within the town’s walls. He needed to remain safe...but they knew that he needed to have fun, too.

“Ganondorf!” His mother yelled one day as he tore down the steps of the palace, “slow down!”

But her words were ignored, the prince determined to have an adventure without his mother or his guards breathing down his neck. The downside to this freedom was that he would be alone; the other Gerudo children were nervous around him, afraid and in awe of the voe that would rule over them one day, and as such...he didn’t really have any friends. It was okay, and he managed on his own, but...he would really like to have just one.

“Mother,” a little red-haired vai groaned, plopping down in the sand.

“What is it, vehvi?” Her mother asked absentmindedly as she picked up a hydromelon.

“I’m bored.”

The Gerudo looked down at her daughter with a bemused expression. “Your first day in Gerudo Town, and you’re already bored? I thought you were excited to be moving here finally.”

The little girl sighed dramatically, flopping down onto her back. “I didn’t think it would be so boring!”

The melon vendor snorted in amusement. “I see the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Kiluki.”

“What does that mean, Uvira?” The girl’s mother asked in confusion.

The vendor shrugged. “It’s something the Hylians say.”

“...why do they say it?”

“When they mean to tell someone that their daughter acts the same way her mother does.” Uvira laughed. “But I agree with Ilula...Gerudo Town has plenty to offer. Perhaps she should go see it all.”

The girl sat up straight. “Yes!”

Her mother was less eager. “I don’t know…”

“Mom, come on!” Ilula rolled her eyes. “I’m almost eight. I’m practically a grown up.”

Uvira barked a laugh. “Certainly have the attitude of one!”

Kiluki shot the woman a glare. “Ilula, I just want you to stay safe. This isn’t Castle Town, things here are bigger…”

“And I’m small. I know.” The little Gerudo sighed. “But mom, look at all the guards!”

“No one gets in or out of town without them seeing,” Uvira shrugged. “I doubt even a little vai could go unnoticed.”

“See?”

Kiluki looked down at her runt of a daughter. “Ilula, I just don’t want you running off on your own until you get to know Gerudo Town better. I just want you to stay safe.”

“Well…” Ilula looked around the market square. “Maybe I can find a friend?”

“There are plenty of little vai running around these days,” Uvira agreed. “Let her stretch her legs, Kiluki. This is your home again, and there are so few travelers these days that it’s nearly only Gerudo in town. You know we take care of our own.”

“Well…” Kiluki seemed to be on the verge of giving in, and Ilula stood excitedly. “...alright. But don’t go far, and if you need something, come right back here, or ask a guard to help you, or—“

Ilula was already tearing away, her little bare feet kicking up sand. “Thanks, mom!”

As Kiluki watched her daughter run away, she felt her chest tighten. “Be careful!”

Uvira chuckled. “I don’t seem to recall you ever being particularly careful, sister. What’s changed?”

“I have something to worry about now,” Kiluki growled. “And she’s...so small…”

“That she is,” Uvira rubbed her chin in thought. “I could have sworn she was a few years younger, what with her height…”

Kiluki sighed. “The Hylian healers assured me that she’s perfectly healthy, but I’ve never seen such a small Gerudo. She’s hit all her milestones...except for the height ones.”

“So she’s a little thing,” Uvira shrugged. “Perhaps she’ll grow late.”

“Or never at all.”

“Would that matter much?”

“The world is a harsh place. I brought her here to be safe, with our people, but I fear now that the desert will be too much…”

“Kiluki, in the few hours you’ve been here, I have not once seen that vehvi show any signs of slowing down.” Uvira laughed. “You worry too much. Take her to one of our healers so they can reassure you.”

Her sister nodded. “I plan to.”

“I’m sure she’ll have no trouble making friends with the others.” Uvira smiled. “You’ll both have a fine life here, now that you’re back home where you belong.”

Kiluki tried to look like she agreed, but she was still worried. “You’re right. I’m sure everything will be fine.”

On the other side of the market, Ilula was approaching a group of children. They were playing a game with a small leather ball, kicking it around to each other, and it wasn’t unlike the sort of games the Hylian children in Castle Town played.

“Hey!” Ilula called, running towards them. “Can i join?”

The girls all stopped and looked at her. She was unfamiliar, but she was clearly Gerudo, though she was...small.

“This is a game for big kids,” one of the girls said, waving her away. “Go play with someone your own age.”

Ilula stopped just outside their circle. “I am a big kid!”

“Uh, no you’re not,” she scoffed. “How old are you? Five?”

“I’m almost eight!” Ilula stamped her foot in anger.

The girl paused in surprise. “What? No way. You’re so small!”

Ilula’s cheeks burned with rage. She wasn’t used to other kids commenting on her height; she was bigger than the Hylians her age, and back in Castle Town, they were the little kids compared to her. Here, though, she actually had to look up at the Gerudo kids, and as she did so, she began to frown.

“S-so?” She asked, stammering in her anger.

“So?” The bigger girl laughed. “So you can’t play with us!”

Ilula’s hands balled into fists. “Fine! I didn’t want to anyways!”

The other children all broke into laughter as she spun on her heel, cheeks hot, teeth clenched. She had never been treated like that, and she was experiencing her first real rage. All she wanted was to get as far away from them as possible now, and she made a beeline for the archway leading to a row of homes and bars off to the side of the market.

As she marched away, determined to ignore their shrill taunts as they called after her, her pace quickened, toes digging into the sand with such fervor that she didn’t notice where she was going.

“Too small? I’m not too small, I’ll show them too small—hey!” As she grumbled to herself, she suddenly made contact with something sturdy, and next thing she knew, she was landing on her butt. “Watch where you’re going!”

The something she had run into turned and looked down at her. “Oh, sorry!”

Ilula’s eyes widened as she took him in.

“I thought—I thought there weren’t any boys allowed here!” She blurted out.

The person in front of her was a shirtless boy, a small mane of fiery red hair framing his face. He wore white silk pants held up by a golden belt, matching bands fastened around his upper arms. His skin was tan, his eyes bright amber, a bejeweled circlet resting on his head. He looked regal, as he should...but Ilula didn’t notice that. All she noticed was that he was a boy, and he was in her way.

He laughed and offered his hand to help her up. “I’m allowed to be here.”

She took his offer and allowed him to pull her to her feet. “Why?”

“Because I’m the prince,” he smirked, puffing his chest out a little.

Ilula rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right.”

He visibly deflated, unused to anyone questioning or not believing him. In a town full of Gerudo who worshipped him, nobody ever rolled their eyes like that in his presence. “Huh?”

“If you’re a prince, why are you wandering around out here?” She shook her head. “And there’s never any boy Gerudo. You’re just making things up.”

He blinked at her in disbelief. “But I—I am! I’m gonna be king one day!”

“We don’t have a king, we have a chief!” Ilula laughed, but it wasn’t cruel or mocking; instead, it was genuine, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she looked up at the boy. “Mama told me all about the chief before we came here.”

“You just moved here?” He tilted his head curiously.

“Yep!”

“Where did you live before?”

“Castle Town,” She sighed. “It was nice, I guess. The castle is pretty.”

“Isn’t that where all the Hylians live?” He scoffed. “You shouldn’t be out there. You should be with your people.”

“Duh, I’m here now, aren’t I?” Her voice was full of attitude as she rolled her eyes at him a second time.

Ganondorf decided that he didn’t hate it.

“Why’d you live there in the first place?” He folded his arms over his chest.

“My daddy is a knight.” Ilula played with the hem of her shirt, rocking on her heels. “He works in the castle. But him and Mama had a fight, so she decided to move here.”

The boy made a thoughtful noise and nodded. “Well...I’m glad you’re here.”

“Why?” She tilted her head.

“Because now I have a friend!” He grinned, grabbing her hands and spinning her around.

Ilula shrieked with laughter, and he loved how it sounded.

“We’re friends?” She asked, giggling as she fell still again.

“Yeah! I mean...do you wanna be?”

“Yes!” She looked relieved.

“Whats your name?” He asked.

“Ilula.” She smiled.

“I’m Ganondorf. Future king of the Gerudo.” His grin widened.

“Yeah, very funny.” She said sarcastically. “You’re weird, but I’m glad I have a friend now. I tried to make friends before, but they just made fun of me…”

The boy frowned. “Who did?”

Ilula shrugged, nodding towards the archway she had come through. “A bunch of girls in the market. They wouldn’t play with me.”

His brow creased angrily. “Why?”

“They said I was too small. They thought I was five! I’m almost eight!”

“I’m already eight,” her new friend smirked.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. They were mean.”

His frown was back. “Did they make fun of you?”

“Yes.” She grumbled, kicking the sand.

“Come on.” He grabbed her hand again, pulling her towards the market.

“What are you doing?” She asked, short legs stumbling as she tried to keep up with the tall boy.

“Being a prince,” he growled.

Ilula scoffed. There he went again, pretending to be royalty. She didn’t have much of a choice than to follow him, though, and she let him drag her back to where the girls were playing.

“Hey!” He snapped, standing in front of them.

They all immediately froze and snapped to attention, staring at him with wide eyes.

“Y-yes?” One of them gulped.

“Were you being mean to her?” He yanked Ilula forward, holding her up by her wrist as if she weighed nothing at all. She dangled in his grip, toes barely brushing the sand, but she found that she didn’t hate it.

“N-no, Prince Ganondorf!” The girl who had bullied Ilula said quickly, taking a few steps back towards her friends.

“Then why wouldn’t you let her play with you?” He asked dangerously.

“Because—because she’s too small!” The girl stammered. “Sh-She wouldn’t be able to keep up!”

“Tell her you’re sorry,” he ordered, setting Ilula down.

“But—“

“Say you’re sorry!”

“W-we’re sorry!” She said. “P-please don’t tell my mom, she’ll be so mad at me…y-you can play whenever you want, you can be friends with us, I promise—“

“I don’t want to,” Ilula wrinkled her nose. “I have my own friend now.”

She turned away from them for the second time, spinning on her heel and marching away with her nose in the air. The girls stared after her in horror, looking back at the prince with wide eyes and gaping mouths. How could she turn her back on royalty and just walk away like that? She should be put to death for her rudeness!

He gave the girls one last glare before turning to join the little foreigner, catching up with her short stride quickly.

“That was awesome!” She exclaimed when they were out of earshot, stopping and turning to face him. “That was so cool, they were so scared of you! They—wait.” She paused as thoughts flew through her head. “They called you prince. Did you convince them like you tried to convince me? Wow, they’re dumb!”

He just stared at her before throwing his head back and laughing loudly.

“What?” She asked. “What’s so funny?”

“Nothing,” he chuckled. “Wanna go play?”

Ilula grinned and nodded and they were off, running through the market to have fun.

Ganondorf showed her the aqueducts that carried fresh water throughout the city, laughing as she splashed him. He took her to see the sand seals living in pens just next to the side gate, telling her that soon, he was going to learn how to shield surf with one. After that, they ran up and down the palace steps, seeing how many they could each jump. The guards at the top of the stairs shared a bemused smile behind their veils, eyes crinkling with laughter as they watched their prince play with someone his age finally.

“This place is huge!” Ilula said, sitting down on a step. The sun was low in the sky, some of its heat finally ebbing as the evening air cooled.

“Yeah, it is,” Ganondorf sat beside her, looking out over his city. “The desert is even bigger. It goes on and on forever.”

“I can’t wait to see it,” Ilula sighed. “I can’t wait to see everything.”

“I’ll show you,” he promised. “I’ve lived here my whole life. I know everything about the desert.”

“Then maybe one day I can show you Castle Town!” She said excitedly. “Deal?”

He grinned. “Deal.”

“My prince,” one of the guards from the top of the steps approached them. “It is growing late. Your mother wishes you to accompany her for supper.”

Ilula stared at the tall Gerudo guard. Maybe the whole prince thing wasn’t just a joke amongst children, after all...

Ganondorf sighed. “Can we take Ilula home first?”

The guard looked down at the runt and gave a quick nod. “Who is your mother, vehvi?”

“Kiluki,” She said, her voice suddenly as small as she felt. “She was in the market talking to Aunt Uvira…”

The guard’s gaze softened at the sound of an old friend’s name. “Very well. Let us go find her together.”

Spear in hand, she led the children down the steps. The setting sun was casting long shadows across the square, Gerudo all waving goodbyes as they headed home or to the spa or bar. The market was much less crowded than it had been during the day, shopkeepers drawing down the flaps on their stalls as they closed up for the night.

“Ilula!” A voice called.

“Mama!” Ilula ran forward as she spotted her mother still talking to Uvira at her stand.

Kiluki caught her small daughter in an embrace, smiling as she picked her up and set her in her hip. “I see you’ve come back to me in one piece.”

“Of course,” the guard escorting the children said, coming to stand before Kiluki. “The prince and his friend were only playing on the palace steps today. I did not let them out of my sight.”

Kiluki’s eyes grew wide as Ganondorf stepped up next to the guard. “O-oh, my prince, forgive me—“

She tried to bow while holding Ilula, bending at the waist while her daughter clung to her arm for dear life. Ganondorf only laughed, enjoying the sight of such a close bond between the two, his hands clasped behind his back as he watched.

“Ilula and I are friends now,” he told her.

Kiluki looked at her daughter in shock. “...you befriended the prince?”

“I didn’t know he was the prince,” Ilula smiled sheepishly.

“She didn’t believe me when I kept telling her.” Ganondorf piped up.

“...were you rude to the prince?” Her mother asked.

“No!” Ilula protested. “I wasn’t! Besides, he’s not the prince, he’s my friend.”

Kiluki shook her head in disbelief as Uvira laughed behind them. “You never cease to amaze me, vehvi.”

Ilula grinned, then squirmed in her mother’s grip. The moment she was let down, she ran forward to hug Ganondorf, and the boy happily wrapped his arms around her. He picked her up and spun her around, one of his new favorite games, his face alight with laughter as the two quickly began making plans to play in the morning.

“Thank you for keeping an eye on her,” Kiluki said to the guard as she watched her daughter and the prince.

“Of course,” the guard dipped her head in a nod. “At the prince’s side is the safest place she could ever be.”

Kiluki nodded in agreement. She couldn’t believe how well everything had worked out. With a guard detail always keeping an eye on Ganondorf, Ilula would no doubt always be under their watch as well. Her daughter gained a friend, and Kiluki gained some peace of mind.

“Come, my prince,” the guard said after a few more minutes. “We must let Ilula and Kiluki get home, and we must not keep your mother waiting.”

Ganondorf sighed and gave Ilula one last smile before joining the guard. Ilula waved after him as he walked towards the palace, her mother taking her hand to lead her to Uvira.

“Well, how about that?” Ilula’s aunt chuckled. “Making friends on your very first day here!”

Ilula giggled. “He’s not just my friend. He’s the prince.”

#ganondorf #ganon #botw #botw x reader #rehydrated ganondorf #gerudo #ganondorf x reader #ganondorf x oc #ganon x reader #ganon x oc #gerudo ganondorf #gerudo oc #flying on wings made from feathers and wax

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