#that you can't even be honest with yourself

[prettybiching]

Helloooooooo my love. First of all, happy new year! (although it's coming a week late, sorry about that) I hope this year is filled with love and joy for you!!

Secondly, piggybacking off your last reblog, yes desi weddings are so elaborate ahhh!!! I loved the whole experience despite how exhausting and stressful it was as the sister of the bride. there's pre-wedding events, a week long wedding and then the post-wedding events so yeah nearly two months of dedicated wedding festivities lmfao but it was SOOO fun and I'm moving overseas in a few weeks so I definitely had a winter for the books.

NOWWWWWWW, I'm going to be honest, I couldn't help myself and I gave myself some sneak peeks from all the chapters uploaded because every time I get the notification I get SO excited and lemme just say - YOU COOKED AND I HAVE MASSIVE THOUGHTS

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

Oh god, breaking my heart already. Daemon, I can't stand you at times ughhhhhh. What will it take for my poor girl to not have to beg for someone to love her and be considerate to her.

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

This is either going to end horribly or wonderfully and I don't know how to feel about either.

...while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

GIRL NO!!!!!!!!!

PLEASE STOP TRYING TO KILL YOURSELF EVERY OTHER CHAPTER FOR THE SAKE OF MY WELLBEING

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

And there goes my heart again...I'm so mad at Daemon and the chapter has only just begun. I can't get over just how scared she is of telling Daemon about the baby because he will probably accuse her of incest (which would be so fucking ironic HAH) even though deep down he knows she never did any of that he's just emotionally constipated AS HELL. Even Caraxes is going to be done with his ass

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Alexa play "I Think He Knows" by Taylor Swift

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

😭😭😭 STOPPPPP PLEASE SPARE ME

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

Help, I know this is a deeply serious moment but I can't help but laugh at the fact that Arryk whipped out his sword to defend himself against CARAXES

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

OH MY GOD CARAXES CAN SENSE DAEMONS BABY IN HER TUMMY WE'VE GOT MEDIEVAL DNA TEST SOMEBODY GET DAEMON HERE

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

caraxes and reader's bestie arc better start NOW

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Oh my god Arryk stop tattling on my boy Caraxes like that. He was just trying to show some affection and protectiveness!!! It's not his fault that years of bonding with daemon also turned him a little dense and emotionally constipated like his master

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

The way I 100% believe that the foundation of the brothers' relationship is that daemon will ALWAYS do the exact opposite of viserys tells him so the fact that he told daemon to return to his lady wife, it will lead him to run as far away from her as possible (aka stepstones)

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

THIS SCENE MAKES ME WANT TO CRADLE MY HEAD IN MY HANDS AND WEEP BECAUSE WHAT THEY COULDVE BEEN IF DAEMON WASNT SO DENSE AND THICK AND STUPID AND UGHHHHHHH

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

you're so stupid

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

Daemon "I can never comprehend someone being genuinely concerned for me because I never had a mother, I don't remember my father's love and my brother was an even bigger emotionally constipated idiot who can't show me love so I'm going to mistake your love for you doubting my capabilities" targaryen

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

This is so tragic I've started crying again...

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED THIS FUCKER TO RECEIVE THERAPY FROM BRAAVOS OR WHATEVER BECAUSE HIS UNRESOLVED CHILDHOOD TRAUMA AND THE LACK OF PARENTAL LOVE HE RECEIVED IS GOING TO DESTROY THE MC AND I CANNOT STAND FOR IT I WILL DIE

"because I love you."

and im dead. im gone.

"you are mistaken."

"I love you" "It'll pass"

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

FUCK YOU FUCK THE WHOLE TSRGARYEN DYNASTY YOU FILTHY LYING WHORE OF A DRAGON RIDER GO FUCK MYSARIA IN A WIG AND CALL OUT YOUR WIFES NAME AND TELL HER YOU WANT HER BECAUSE YOURE TOO SCARED TO SAY IT TO YOUR WIFE AND GO TO THE SHITTY STEPSTONES SURROUNDED BY NOTHING BUT UGLY LOOKING PIRATES FOR THREE WHOLE YEARS WITH SHITTY FOOD AND SHITTY WINE KJHGRRYVHBEBN LTLV

You nod, "I know."

Author, did you reach inside my brain and find the worst ways to hurt me? BECAUSE THIS HURTS OKAY

BUT IT ALSO FEELS SO GOOD??? WHYS THE ANGST YOU WRITE SO FUCKING GOOD??? IM IN LITERAL TEARS OVER THESE TWO, THE WAY DAEMON MADE HER BEG FOR HIM TO STAY AND IT WAS STILL NOT ENOUGH THE PARALLELS OF HER SAYING IT NEVER SERVES HER WELL ASKING SOMEONE TO STAY

If you're wondering how I'm doing at the end of this, then imagine this - IM IN TEARS and contemplating my existence. But I cannot atop praising you for how GOOD this chapter was. It hit right the spot. Thank youuuuu for yet another masterpiece <3

Tormented Spirit | 10

Part 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11

"Is it such a sin to stand up for yourself?" you mutter as tears blur your vision. The way he reacted was visceral, instinctive even. "You never have to stand up for yourself ever again," says Daemon, reaching a hand to you, "come."

Daemon Targaryen x Hightower!Reader | 6k+ | cw: fem!reader, reader has brown hair, wife!reader, twin!Gwayne, arranged/forced marriage, canon divergence, alternate universe, slow burn, DD:DNE, panic/anxiety attacks, suicidal ideation, attempted suicide, daddy issues/child abuse/family problems, mentions/depictions of mental/physical/psychosomatic illness, ye old misogyny, angst, typos, etc.

A/N: GUYS ITS STILL TOO FUCKING LONG I HAD TO CUT IT AGAIN T_T blah blah canon stuff/high valyrian inaccurate blah. please please leave comments/reblogs because they really help me with the fic. | cross posted on ao3

@arabellasleopardcoat @prettybiching @myllovellybones

Daemon does not come home to you that night. When you awaken, you feel sick to your stomach. The thought of food repulsive though, so you spend the morning looking for your husband, until your body betrays you and feels sick because of not having eaten. You realize that your state is not borne simply from worrying about the prince, but probably also because of this supposed life you carried within you.

You try to deny it though, chalking it up to your mind playing tricks on you. After all, it's laughable that you suddenly experienced these symptoms just after all the fuss of learning you were with child.

You thought you finally found Daemon when you heard Caraxes was in the dragon pit, and so you run there, run, much to the protest of Arryk, who was hot on your heels. He managed to convince you to slow down by telling you that you would eventually get to the dragon pit if you walked, but you would never get there if you pass out.

You'd never been so happy to see the blood wyrm.

"Daemon?" you call out, searching for him.

Caraxes is busy feasting on meat and Arryk is busy watching him, body tense and senses on high alert.

The dragon keeper comes to you, shaking his head, "se dārilaros iksis daor kesīr dombo." The prince is not here anymore.

You understood nothing, save dārilaros, which you knew meant prince, and figure he's probably telling you he is not here, which you could gather from simple observation.

You turn to Caraxes and point, "zaldrīzes." Dragon.

The man brightens, as he understands, "Caraxes."

You nod, placing a hand on your chest. You do a walking motion with your fingers towards Caraxes.

His eyes widen and he shakes his head and hands.

You clench your jaw and turn to Caraxes, nodding your head in understanding.

The dragon keeper relaxes.

He mistakes you.

"Arryk," you turn to your ward, "can you come here please?"

Arryk's eyes linger on the dragon a moment before turning to you. You settle him in front of the dragon keeper, and while he is distracted from trying to figure out what you were doing, you circle behind your knight and sneak past both, making a beeline towards Caraxes.

The dragon notices you immediately and watches you near. He lifts his head and sniffs the air, and only then do the two men realize what's happening.

"PRINCESS!" Arryk shouts, sprinting towards you before coming to an abrupt stop.

Enraged, Caraxes cranes his long neck, roaring at Arryk, making him topple back on his bum.

The dragon keeper screams a command and raises his hands.

Amidst the peril of it all, you are calm as you look up at Daemon's companion. It stems from the truth that it would be far less complicated and less painful to be eaten by a dragon than to tell your husband you are with child and deliver it.

The red creature screeches as snaps his teeth at the two men, causing his keeper to step back and Arryk to crawl back with him.

Caraxes then averts his attention, shaking his head as he circles around you, effectively blocking the two from seeing anything other than his massive, scaly body.

In truth, you think your heart might be impaired, because it doesn't race at all as the beast seemingly imposes upon you. He cannot seem to stop pacing around you, as if he was restless, anxious even.

Your face contorts at the bleating sound it makes. He lowers his head slightly inhaling and exhaling deeply. He makes another noise and you swear to yourself, the creature looks like he's fidgeting.

You feel bad, for it seems... you've upset him, "apologies... I was hoping you'd eat me."

Caraxes screams loudly again when he spots two other dragon keepers come to you from the other side. He threatens them with a snap of his teeth.

"Daor!" they scream in unison. No.

Caraxes seethes and screeches, as if saying, 'do not tell me what to do'.

He circles around you again, and this time, he shoves you forward with his wing. You yelp as you are knocked to the ground with a thud. You manage to brace yourself, grazing your hands as you did, but your chest still hurts at the impact.

The keepers scream in horror because of this, fearing that you would soon be eaten.

"HEY!" Arryk screams, thinking he can distract Caraxes. He can't, and he is losing his mind. Hoes not know what to do but to shout your name in terror. He can't help but draw his sword and immediately the dragon keeper is yelling something, motioning that he stop.

You whine as you roll on your side. Caraxes growls as he bites your arm. The fear finally sets in as he does this, and his powerful maw pulls you up to sitting position.

The dragon keeper, who ran to retrieve you, shrieks out upon witnessing this.

You gasp when Caraxes roars back, and you squeal when his wing comes over you. The strangest thing occurs to you in that moment, and your heart finally begins to race— not because it sinks in how much danger you were in, but because, suddenly, you knew you were not.

You come to a stand, and with no regard for your safety, you reach out for the dragon's skin, somehow shocked by how warm and hard it is. "Caraxes."

He hears you, though you barely raised your voice. He is sensitive to the sound of his name. Caraxes moves back, pulling away enough to be able to coil his neck and look at you.

The dragon keepers, who were so on edge, altogether fall silent when they see you in the midst of the blood wrym.

Arryk nearly broke into a other sprint upon finally seeing you, but he manages to hold back and lowers his sword, unwilling to sheathe it.

Caraxes produces a sound you think is akin to a mewl, as much as a mewl a ten foot beast could make. You huff and feel your breath hitch. You close your eyes and reach out to him, ready to accept whichever fate awaits you, companionship or death.

You gasp, eyes instantly opening when you feel the wetness on your hands. Caraxes presses his snout to your palms, and you squeak, quickly pulling back at the heat of his huff.

He lifts his head and begins to pace around again. You are certain now that the beast was, in fact, restless.

"Paez ilagon!" you exclaim, raising your hands at him.

Caraxes huffs, debating if he should heed your command.

"Paez ilagon," slow down, you repeat as the dragon fully faces you.

You, and everyone else who witnesses it, are shocked that Caraxes listens. He quits his pacing and slowly comes to a halt, looming over you.

Your lips wobble, humbled by the idea such a fearsome creature would obey the commands of such a pathetic being. You begin to weep, as Caraxes lowers his head, sniffing you. Your hands dart out to him when he gets too close. You slightly topple when he nudges you with his snout. You feel the warmth of his breath seeping through your dress as he brushes against you. You can tell he is trying his best to be gentle, but even then he is too strong that you have to repel him. He makes the faintest of sounds.

"Gods be good," you mumble as you gaze upon the creatures scales, "you can smell him, can't you? Daemon?"

Caraxes remains pressed against you a moment longer.

You sniffle and momentarily fantasize about the child growing within you. You lean into him in defeat, "you silly thing."

His throat emits a low rumble.

"It would have been better if you made me a snack," you mumble against him, feeling your tears drip.

Caraxes slowly lowers his head until he is laid on the floor. You remain leaned on him for a moment, and then you pull away with a sigh. You look upon the dragon, thinking he is so much like his rider, and stroke his cheek one last time before pulling away.

You walk towards the dragon keeper you had blindsided and lower your head in shame, speaking the word you had learned for Daemon, "usōvegon." Apologies.

He stares at you for a moment, taking in your now messy hair and dirtied face, and replies with something you do not understand.

You nod at him without meeting his eyes then hurriedly walk off. Arryk is quick to follow after you, and his skidding makes Caraxes screech at him. He flinches at the sound, looking behind him warily. You do not.

When Arryk finally catches up to you, he takes your arm and calls out your name. He is alarmed by the red smeared down your philtrum and cheek.

"Forgive me," you mutter, unable to meet his gaze. You do not stop walking, "I- I was overcome... I did not think of anything but myself. I did not mean to cause anyone such immense distress."

"What were you trying to do?" Arryk quips, taking in your dirtied face. He did not know if it would be appropriate to wipe it with his cloak.

You shake your head, still unable to look at him.

"Princess," Arryk speaks like a plea, "did you know Caraxes would not hurt you?"

You gulp, quickening you pace.

Arryk huffs in frustration, calling out your name.

He forces you to stop by dashing forward, coming in front of you. You look up at him, eyes teary and mouth parted.

"I beg you," he clenches his fists, before succumbing to his urges. He grabs his cloak and wipes your face, brushing the dirt and blood as neatly as he can, "please tell me you did not knowingly put yourself in danger."

The tears running down your face help him clean you off. You honestly say, "I don't know if I should tell you."

Arryk is heart broken. He clenches his jaw tightly and releases his hold on you. He steps aside and you begin walking again.

You feel awful as you look at him. He is sullen as he walks beside you. You wipe your nose on your sleeve, "apologies, Arryk."

He shakes his head and opens his mouth. His jaw hangs for a moment, but then he closes his mouth, saying nothing.

You turn to your side when you hear your name called.

Alicent, who was making her way to the king's quarters, runs up you, eyes widening at the blood on your face. The red had spread as it mixed with your tears. She quickly pulls out her handkerchief, "your nose is bleeding!"

Your eyes widen, as you did not know this, but you quickly take her wrist and slowly pull away, "it is nothing."

"What happened to her, ser?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk is eager to tattle, "she was at the dragon pit and-"

"I fell," you cut him off, blocking your sister's gaze upon your ward, "I-"

"You fell in the dragon pit?!" she bristles further. Your feigning backfired. "What did Daemon do?!"

"The prince is nowhere to be seen," Arryk scoffs.

"I was- am looking for him!" you blurt

"Caraxes nearly attacked her," Arryk adds.

"Arryk!" you whip your head to him then back to your sister, "he did not!"

"He shoved her back and she fell!" he explains, "that's why her nose is bloody."

Alicent calls your name as you call Arryk's.

Your sister takes your shoulders, eyes immediately watering, "did you want to get hurt, sister?"

Your jaw slacks, "I- I-"

"Does Daemon posses you to do such things?" your baby sister begins to cry.

You shake your head rapidly, "no! No. I swear to you, this has nothing to do with him."

"Then what?" Alicent asks with a broken voice.

You gasp for air and feel a shiver run down your spine. You cannot tell her the truth, so you explain instead, "my nose already bled yesterday, which is why it's bleeding now."

"What?!"

"I already fainted yesterday and fell quite hard, which is why my nose is bleeding again."

"Mother, please," Alicent whispers.

"Alicent, I swear to you, you need not-"

"How could you let this happen to her twice?" Alicent turns to Arryk.

Arryk lowers his head, "I have failed-"

"I snuck behind him," you blurt, "do not fault him for my impulsiveness."

Alicent's heart is crush as she watches you wipe your face.

"It is not Arryk's fault that my nose is bloody. It is neither Caraxes fault for shoving me. It is mine. My body is weak and I have spent all day looking for my husband, against the behest of my maester."

Alicent clenches her jaw. It is Daemon's fault.

"I will go to the maesters' ward and submit to whatever is prescribed to me," you place a hand on her shoulder. You sniffle, "do not speak to father of this."

"Make sure to go to the maester's then," you sister warns.

Dejected, you look away and walk off.

Alicent takes in a breath before grabbing her skirts, marching over to the king's quarters.

Viserys is in the middle of gluing his diorama of King's Landing when he hears a knock on the door, "come in."

Alicent enters, sighing deeply before pulling a smile.

"Alicent," his blank expression slightly lightens.

She curtsies, "your highness," and walks over to him. She turns her attention to whatever it was the king was building.

Viserys shows raises a block, "a new tower."

Alicent smiles softly, "pretty."

The king raises a brow upon noticing the stiffness to her demeanor, "is everything alright?"

Alicent betrays herself on purpose by nodding her head too quickly.

Viserys puts the tower down. He reaches for her arm, "what's wrong, my girl."

She takes a sharp breath, "my sister—"

He furrows his brows.

"—she... she has a bloody nose from falling."

"She fell?"

"Twice," Alicent fidgets with her hands, honest agitation for her sister taking over her, "because she's been looking for Daemon."

His reaction to the name is instant. Viserys' jaw clenches and his fists ball in anger, "Daemon."

Daemon struts down the great hall, making his way towards the Iron Throne. The night was now deep and the few candles lit in the room only increased the tension between the brothers.

The prince looks up at the king. The king and two kingsguard stationed on either side of the throne look down at him. Viserys clenches his sword, "and where have you been?"

Daemon scoffs, aimlessly looking around, "have you summoned me to nag?" He clasps his hand in front of him, leaning on one foot, "I already have a wife for that."

His brother laughs, hard. It echoes across the hall, but it is by no means genuine, "I would not have ever known with all the time you waste in brothels."

Daemon grinds his teeth, face contorting, "so you've summoned me to reb-"

"Did you say it?" Viserys snaps.

"... what?"

"An heir for a day— did you say it?!"

"..."

The king's nostrils flare.

"... we must all mourn in our own way, your grace."

Viserys sighs, lowering his head in defeat for a second, then erupts, "MY FAMILY HAS BEEN DESTROYED!" He seethes, "and instead of staying at mine, or Rhaenyra's side you celebrate your own rise with your whores and your lickspittles!

"And wife," he scoffs, "your poor wife... do you even know that your mount has injured her?"

Daemon stiffens.

"She came to the pit looking for you and the beast caused her a bloody nose."

"What?"

"You chose her Daemon. And in choosing her you prove time and time again, I bend to your desires only to be repaid with disrespect. You have no other allies in court but me, yet-"

"You do nothing but distance me from court! From the City Watch, even with- with her... you do nothing but heed the whispers of that leaching old man."

"Leaching old man?" Viserys raises his brows.

Daemon nearly vibrates in anger.

"You mean Otto Hightower?" the king's lips curl, "the man who begged me—"

He laughs dryly.

"—over and back to spare her sickly daughter from enduring a lifetime with a the likes of you!"

Daemon is wounded, "I am your brother."

"Then why do you cut me so deep?"

"I see that man for what he is."

Viserys huffs, "a loyal and faithful-"

"A cunt!"

The king leans back. His kingsguard are ready to draw their steel. Viserys realizes there is no getting through to him. He looks away then turns back to glare at him, "jiōragon hen ñuha laehurlion." Get out of my face.

"Lēkia," Daemon steps forward, muttering the word that meant older brother.

The kingsguards step forward, showing a glimmer of their swords as a warning.

"I hear it is the first time your Hightower bride has been separated from her twin. It would do her health good to visit Oldtown."

He clenches his fists tightly.

"Perhaps she might get strong enough to grant you a child," he clenches his jaw, "maybe once the gods have granted you a boy or girl, you will understand my grief." Viserys motions with a nod, "you are to return to your lady wife with no quarrel. Take him out of my sight."

Daemon does not wait to be apprehended and storms out of the room. He is bristling as he gets out.

"Mazeman bona ziry gōntan daor jikagon sȳrī." I take that it did not go well.

Daemon turns and sees Corlys standing by the door, hands clasped in front of him.

"I wanted to speak to you of something important earlier today. I hope your mood is not too bad foul-"

"Ȳdragon se sagon gaomagon lēda bisa jenigon," Daemon snaps. Speak and be done with this bother.

Corlys straightens his back and motions with hand, "it is regarding the Stepstones, your grace."

Daemon furrows his brows, vaguely recalling this topic being broached during one of the council meetings. The two of them discuss this as they walk down the hall. By the time the prince reaches your shared quarters, he's agreed to help the Seasnake with his concern.

You leap from your bed when the door opens. Daemon freezes as you scurry to the door, hastily running to him without even putting on your slippers. You stand before him barefoot, heaving as you clutch your nightgown. He stares at you, hands clenching into fists.

"Usōvegon," your lips tremble.

Daemon's face falls a fraction as he watches your eyes water.

"Usōvegon," apologies, you repeat. "Please..." you slowly reach for him.

He watches your palms press against his chest. He makes no attempt to move.

"Do not be cross with me any longer."

A deep breath flares through his nostrils. He realizes then that he is exhausted and shuts his eyes. He leans his forehead on yours and takes your wrists. He huffs at your feel, "you are freezing."

"I-"

Daemon seals you into an embrace and the warmth of his body quickly seeps onto your much colder one. A shiver runs down your spine. You immediately wrap your arms around him and nuzzle your face into his chest. He mimics you, brushing his cheek against your hair, taking in the faint smell of citrus. He remembers what his brother said and repeats it, "ñuha mijegindita ābrazȳrys." My poor wife.

You don't know what he says, so you make sure to tell him what wants to hear— what you think he wants to hear, "I will not defy you ever again."

He does not care about that. He pulls back and looks at you. He wipes the tears off your face and a line forms between his brows, "Caraxes attacked you?"

One of your hands instinctively comes to your philtrum, "no. I-" you shake your head, "I fell."

You don't know why you think Daemon would be satisfied with your answer. He presses, "tell me exactly what happened."

You huff, "I was... yesterday, I fainted—"

"Fainted?"

"—then I fell."

He shakes his head, "this happened in the dragon pit?"

"... no. When... when I was chasing after you."

Daemon brushes your hair back.

You cannot hold his gaze, "I went to the pit, hoping you'd be there and-" you realize you cannot tell him what happened. You cannot tell him you walked to his mount and his mount did not attack you because he could smell part of him in you. You huff, "-and Caraxes got close and knocked me over."

"Did he try to bite you?"

You debate for a second before shaking your head.

Daemon sighs, "he must have smelled me on you and got excited."

Your throat tightens. Goosebumps form on your arm when Daemon traces your nose with his thumb.

"And your nose bled?"

You do not want to answer.

He sighs, "I will reintroduce you to him, so that he does not act so-"

"It's not his fault!" you blurt, "not really."

He knits his brows.

"When I fainted and fell, my nose already bled, so..." you motion with a finger, "Caraxes simply... set off a previous injury."

He says absolutely nothing.

"My body is weak," you mumble, hoping to explain it better, "I've had worse injuries."

"Do you tell me this so that I will not bring you to Caraxes?"

"No," you shake your head, "no. Just... so you do not..." worry, you almost say, but then the idea feels presumptuous.

"Not fault my beast for acting like one?" Daemon asks, as he heads for his cabinet.

You look at him for a moment then follow. You decide to hum and proceed to help him get undressed.

Your husband examines your face. The moonlight mixed with candlelight makes your skin glow. He is loathe to think your tears add to it, but it's unfortunately true. Your being glistens because of all these things. He interrupts your unbuttoning by taking your cheeks and slowly wiping off the tears on your lashes.

You blink at him, "better?"

"Gevie," he says, brushing your throat with his thumbs.

You nod, though you still did not know what that meant. You push his doublet past his shoulders and once his dress shirt remained, he is quick to remove his shoes as you bring his clothes to the hamper. When you walk back to him, he is picking out clothes from his closet. You are deeply confused when he hands you a stack of shirts.

Daemon moves to his other cabinet and says, "pack those in my trunk for me."

You freeze and blink rapidly, "I-" you turn to his truck, which was atop his closet. Your heart races, "I cannot reach it."

Daemon pulls out more clothing before looking at you. You watch him closely as he stands and reaches for the trunk. He places it on the floor and opens it.

You slowly kneel on the floor beside it, doing your best to keep calm in this moment. Are you leaving? You nearly ask him, but you don't because he clearly is. You begin to fold his clothes, but you cannot hold your peace, "where are you going?"

Daemon stuffs his clothes into his trunk and sighs before crouching down to fix them, "the Stepstones."

"W-what?"

"The Seasnake needs help with the Crabfeeder, so I will help him."

"Why?" you blurt all too quickly.

Daemon straightens up. He looks down at you as you shake your head and quickly finish folding his clothes.

"Why must it be you?"

The voice of his brother rings in his mind. Do you carry such low regard of him just as he? "Why can't it be me?" he snaps, "you think I will be of no help?"

He is taken aback by how you chuck his clothes into his trunk rather aggressively. His face begins to harden with anger but then you make a noise and lean into the trunk, heaving deeply in and out.

"Wha-"

You cut him off by reaching for his legs. He is frozen in place as you embrace him from where you knelt on the floor.

Whatever choler was building in him quickly dissipates and morphs into... fear, or rather, worry. He calls out your name, reaching for your head.

"You cannot leave me," you shudder, gripping his calves for dear life. You look up at him, face wholly distraught but not teary. You find yourself too tired to shed a tear.

Cannot leave you? He does not like the way you imply he would be unable to if he wanted. Daemon watches you as you slowly bring yourself up to a stand. He does not help you as you pull yourself up using his legs and waist.

Your hands remain gripping the sides of his shirt as you stare at him. You take in his stoic expression as you gather the nerve to repeat, "you cannot leave m-"

"And why can't I?" he quips as his insecurity gets ahead of himself.

You hear it in his voice. You hear how he thinks you're challenging him. You shake your head and correct yourself, "n-no," you shudder, "no, Daemon, no. I- I want you to stay." You brush your palms up his chest.

He can feel the tremble of your hands as they come to his cheeks. He knit his brows at your confession. He has to ask, "why?"

You could tell him many reasons. The one possibly most relevant to him is that of the fact you were carrying his unborn child. A shiver runs down your spine; you are not foolish enough to believe this would be something that would make him want to stay. You could always tell him you needed him, your health needed him, because it was true. As much as he clawed your fragile heart, he made it soar in ways you've never experienced. But there was a rather simpler truth to that need, though attached to a very complicated feeling, "because I love you."

Daemon's expression falls. Though his lips barely part, you can tell that he is gobsmacked. You release a shaky breath as you swipe his chin and jaw with the pads of your thumbs.

Should he be so shocked? Love in a marriage is not so uncommon, even if it is arranged, even if it felt opposite in the beginning.

So, what?

What was your love to him? It would wax and wane like his brother's— and his brother, his fucking brother. He could not grant him the satisfaction. Daemon takes you by the wrists and slowly pries you off, "you are mistaken."

You take a deep breath at his words. You are perfectly still.

"I do not feel the same," he mutters.

Daemon was not one to lie, convinced such an act was beneath him, reserved for incapable, lesser men; half-wits, and yellow-bellies. The only reason he could say this was because the cup in which you held your love for him was far deeper than the one he had for you, and he was aware of it. He loved himself far more than he could ever bring himself to love anyone; he would always be first.

Still, he was not an incapable, lesser man, nor was he a half-witted yellow-belly. He knew of the cup he held, which oft overflowed. The mere thought of you triggered a smell in the air, and at the mention of your name, his bones ignited. You were his, and you held his regard, his affection, his lust, and, yes, his love.

All of this, he was about to explain, but then your reaction blind-sided him.

You nod, "I know."

How terrible it was to hear it. He knew his words where callous. He knew wuch an admission is a gash from a jagged blade— to not be loved by who you loved. Yet your casual resignation to this information stung, nay, scorched his heart.

Is it cold? Is his love so dry you cannot even feel it?

His grip on you falters.

You bring your hands to his shoulders. You rub his bicep and smile softly in reassurance, "I do not mind."

"What?"

Your smile widens a fraction, "I know you enjoy the... delicateness of my body, both intimately and-" you motion to yourself, "-regarding my affliction."

He knits his brows.

"It is wholly contrary to yours, and it is mirthful to you," you nod again, "I understand."

"Do you?" he raises his furrowed brows.

You slowly loosen your hold on him. You pull away to fidget with your fingers, "do I not?"

"No," he scoffs under his breath, chest tightening far too much he has to move past you, "I don't think you do."

You are quick to grab him but it slips, "then make me understand."

Daemon stops in his tracks, turning back to you as his breathing picks up.

Your own does the same, but your gasps get shorter and shorter, so much so, you feel yourself get lightheaded. Your husband has to grab you to keep you upright, but you want to show him you have the will to overcome this, that you aren't dead weight, so push him away and mutter, "I- I can do it, Daemon."

He misinterprets you. You scorch him again. He squeezes your arms, "you don't want my help now?"

"No," you say as try to catch your breath, "I- I just-" you cannot continue.

Daemon has to sit you down to help calm you down. He tried to keep you upright, but then he realizes you were consciously trying to lean into his chest, so he lets you. You press your cheek against his warm muscles and sigh at the beat of his heart. You wrap your arms around him, "I want this."

He stares at your brown hair for a moment.

"I want all of this," you sigh, "which is why I want to be what you want me to be."

He finally lets himself embrace you, but just then, you pull away to look at him.

"I can do it," you nod as you take a final deep breath, "I can be a dutiful wife— I will be a dutiful wife. I will not defy you. I will do as you please. I will not expect more than I ought."

"You cannot do everything for me," Daemon says with slight contempt, a line between his brows.

"I-" you shake your head, "... I know," you shake your head faster, taking his hands, "but can I make you stay?"

He looks at how you hold him. He feels sick.

"What can I do to ma-"

"You do not understand," he pulls his hand away, "my brother wants me to leave. He is sick of me and prays for my riddance."

You watch as Daemon stands and paces around.

"He told me to bring you to your twin in Oldtown, and I would sooner eat Caraxes' shit than be tossed aside to the fucking Reach."

You shake your head, "why does he want you to leave?"

"He is weepy over the drunken words I spoke."

"Well, what did you-"

"Does it matter?!" he snaps, raising his hands, "I must leave!"

He is clearly upset. You nod your head and come to a stand, "then I will speak to the k-"

"No!" he shouts, "I will not have my wife act on my behalf, as though I rolled my belly."

"You are not rolling your belly, I am."

"You think there is a fucking difference?!" he quips, marching in front of you, "no! I am to leave in the dawn, so pack my fucking things, woman!"

You grit your teeth in an attempt to steel yourself away. It does not prevent the tears from running down your cheeks.

Daemon's nostrils flare as you go back to his trunk and sort out his clothes. He hears your soft whimpers and slowly begins to deflate. He wipes his face, slowly turning to you. He watches tears drop onto his garbs, "have you nothing to say?"

You sniffle and shake your head rapidly.

"No?!" his expression pinches.

You stand and grab the rest of this clothes. You sniffle with difficulty then sigh deeply. Your voice is shaky, "I want only to please you."

Daemon chuckles dryly, aimlessly looking around, "you think this pleases me?"

"Then tell me what will!" you whip your head around, clutching his clothes tightly in your arms, "I implore you." You step forward and haphazardly drop everything to his trunk, "I cannot please you if you refuse to tell me what you want."

"I want to go to the fucking Stepstones!" he points to nowhere.

You are shattered. How terrible of him to make it so painfully clear that what he wants does not even involve you. He does not want you, or even if he did, you cannot be enough. You lower your gaze.

"I want you to beg me to stay."

You look up at him. You chuckle dryly under your breath when you realize he's being serious. Your sorrow is not enough, it seems, now he wants even your shame.

Daemon tenses when you get on your knees.

You grip the fabric of his trousers as tightly as possible in an attempt to steel yourself, but it does not prevent your tears from falling. You shudder, "please."

"..."

"Stay. I beg you."

Your prince gazes upon your bitterness. He brushes your cheek and feels the coldness of your tears. He sighs because this does not affect him the way he had hoped.

It is not enough.

Dawn breaks, and Caraxes is restless. Daemon's things were being secured on his dragon, but that is not why so many dragon keepers had to keep him in check.

There, by the entrance, you stood with your hands clasped together and your head hung low. Both your wards behind you, eyeing your prince, who was doing his best to calm his ride as the last of his things were readied. Daemon did not know Caraxes was acting this way because of your distress, but the keepers slowly began to realize this was the case.

One of the keepers call out, "ñuha dārilaros, aōha ābrazȳrys." My prince, your wife.

"Rȳbagon, Caraxes!" Daemon snaps at his dragon to listen. Caraxes shakes his head and the prince spares the dragon keeper a glance, "skoros hen zirȳla?" What of her?

"Aōha zaldrīzes kostagon yknagon zirȳla boter." Your dragon can smell her suffering.

The prince turns to you, back to Caraxes, "iksis ziry zirȳla, Caraxes?" Is it her, Caraxes.

You lift your gaze when you hear Daemon call for you. He beckons you over and before you can move, Arryk grabs your arm and whispers, "I do not think this wise."

You slightly turn to him, "he will not harm me. You saw how Caraxes acted yesterday."

"It is not the dragon I worry about."

You look at the man, seeing how his jaw is clenched. You place a hand on his shoulder plate before walking towards your husband.

Rather immediately, there is a shift in Caraxes's demeanor. He huffs and screeches, neck coiling so his head could come near you. Daemon barks out multiple commands and his mount finally obeys.

The prince knits his brows then turns to you, reaching out a hand. You take it and find yourself pulled into your husband's arms. Your skin pricks with goosebumps when he whispers in your ear, "he wants you."

You sigh and close your eyes, resigning yourself to Daemon. He links his fingers into yours and places it atop his dragon's snout.

Caraxes sighs and slightly leans in.

Daemon is astounded by this, "I did not know he could possibly care for someone more than his rider."

You slowly open your eyes and look at the creatures ruby scales. "He does not," you mutter, rubbing one hand on your belly.

He does not hear this. When he turns you around, he catches you rubbing your stomach. He sighs and takes your hand, "do not weep so bitterly."

You cannot do anything but the opposite. Tears stream down your cheeks, "do not be so cruel then."

Daemon watches how your lips wobble. A line forms between his brows, "do not make this harder than it should."

You pull away from him and lower your gaze, "then just leave me now, and spare me the slow torture."

He tenses at your words. His expression hardens, "I did not ask you to see me off."

"Shall I leave then?" you snap, eyes red as you look back at him.

"Yes!"

You grab your skirt and walk towards the twins.

Daemon is stunned. He turns around and watches as you storm off. He calls your name, once, twice, and then he is sobered by the scream of Caraxes. You do not even stop by the entrance anymore, and walk past your kingsguards, who are quick to follow after you.

Here you were doing his bidding, following his wishes, yet there was no satisfaction. All there was... was less of you, less of your strength, your light, your fire.

Daemon turns to Caraxes, who was restless again. He pushes past the dragon keepers and saddles up. He orders Caraxes to start walking, so he does. The blood wrym begins to crawl towards you and the prince has to reel him back, barking out orders of obedience far too loudly.

Caraxes gives a loud screech before following the order. He huffs so deeply that the wind it produces makes you topple.

Your knights are quick to keep you upright, and though you so badly want to turn around, you remind yourself that your husband has done nothing but all he wants since you've wed. If he wanted you to stay, he would have told you.

You wouldn't know then that Daemon made Caraxes stop in his tracks. You wouldn't know that as he watched you walk off, he was mumbling under his breath that you turn around. You just kept walking yet he still waited for you to turn back, even after your figure had disappeared.

He would also never know that you headed down to the docks near the Keep, just to watch Caraxes fly away one last time. He would never know how your skin pricked with gooseflesh at the sight of the red winged beast soaring above. He would never know how hard it became for you to breathe.

"Gods, please," you mumble as your eyes endlessly watered, "swiftly return him to me."

Arryk and Erryk, stood on either side of you, glared at the sky as they heard your broken voice. They were on high alert as the docks were busy at this hour, and yet, it was necessary to convey their contempt, even if the person it was meant for could not see.

"Give me back my husband," you look at your reflection in the water, "or take me to my mother."

Before your words even register to either of the twins, you've already jumped into the water. Erryk nearly jumps in with you before realizing his armor would surely make him sink. "PRINCESS!" he screams as he undoes his armor.

"THE PRINCESS!" Arryk screams to the fisherman, "SHE'S FALLEN INTO THE WATER!"

The commotion is great. It is loud and frantic, yet as your body plunges and slowly begins to float, you care little. You feel someone fish you out of the water by the arm, and you want nothing more than to break free and swim towards your demise. But then, you hear your wards calling out your name, and you realize you cannot.

You say nothing once you are on land.

Both Cargylls has a hand on your arm, and each of them are worriedly questioning you, "are you alrigh- what happe- what were you thinki- are you faint- my princess-"

"I need to see him," you say.

Arryk and Erryk freeze. The look at each other, not knowing what to say. Arryk offers, "my princess. I fear you cannot see Dae-"

"Not him," you look between them as you gather your skirts. It is arduous, as it is soaking wet.

Otto was on his way back from the scrolls room when hears the shout from across the hall. He tenses like a rock at the recognition of his daughter's voice.

You hadn't realized how tired you were until you saw him. Your knees immediately buckle and you fall to the floor as you call out, "papa!"

The Lord Hand dashes to you, dropping the scrolls he had along the way. He gets on his knees and picks you up. He is aghast by your dripping state, and his anger is soon turned on your incompetent guards, "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY GIRL?"

"Papa," you mutter once you are in his arms.

Otto cradles you, looking down at your sorry form. A deep line is between his brows.

"He left me," you whisper, tears wetting your already wet cheeks.

Daemon. Lord Hightower clenches his jaw. It's always fucking him. "Come, my girl," he mutters, trying to bring you to your feet, "let's get you-"

Your voice is soft, yet it still cuts him off, "you must not leave me."

Otto is frozen. Arryk and Erryk are frozen too.

"If you leave me too, I do not think I will survive."

[miss-vanta-likes-to-write]

Miss Vanta I must ask. Of course ignore this if it doesn’t suit your fancy. Of our boys, who is actually good at rolling up and who isn’t allowed to even touch the papers? I feel like John absolutely cannot roll, he buys fancy cigars for that exact reason.

Asking the real questions I see. Because this absolutely tracks for John, lol. In my opinion Kyle does all the rolling, and Johnny uses pipes and Simon uses bongs (or makes his own when you haven't cleaned his or he can't find it) John is the edible king.

Check below the cut sweetie.

Also, when I used to smoke, I never had to learn how to roll because my fuck buddy did that for me. Something about me being too pretty to have to do it myself. Idk 🤷🏾‍♀️ all I know is that he did everything short of holding the blunt to my lips and inhaling for me.

Rating: 18+mdni (it's spicy at the end)

pairing: poly 141 x reader

"We're back! The game hasn't started yet, has it? " Kyle calls through the house. He and Johnny had just gotten back from the store. Something about being made to restock the whiskey that they drank that John had a craving for. He rounds the corner to the front room and stops dead in his tracks at what he sees. "Now, what in the hell?"

You're sitting in Simon's lap, pink heart tray balanced carefully across your legs as you do your best to roll your own blunt. The concentration on your face is laughable, and your tongue is poked out from the corner of your mouth. You whine and grumble under your breath, "Simon~"

"No, do it yourself." Simon says as he watches you struggle. "Something about you rolling the best?"

You roll your eyes hard and scoff, "I don't wanna hear anything from the man who turned an empty pringles can into a bong because he tore his swishers by accident..."

John is sitting in his recliner scrolling through his phone, knowing if he even contributes to this conversation, he won't hear the end of it. In fact, you find his lack of commentary odd, and you look up at him from your sorry attempt. He's sitting there snacking on what you suspect is your stash of gummies. He feels your gaze and looks up. A bit of a small goofy smile slowly slides onto his face. Yeah, he's already high, but the plus is he is no longer complaining about his back pain.

"Hen, if ye wanted help, ye coulda asked me." Johnny says after flopping down next to Simon. He drags you into his lap. Kyle is already taking the tray and the half rolled blunt with a shake of his head.

"You're all acting like I can't do it myself!" You pout, "I'm not as bad as John!"

John, who is affronted, can't keep his mouth shut, "you act as if we both aren't in the same boat."

Johnny kisses your cheek and then the place just right under and behind your ear. He hums his agreement and nips at you. "We wen' through tha trouble of findin' ye tha lit'le sailor moon bowl an' ye barely use it."

Kyle, meanwhile, is already working on blunt number four. He's efficient, and there's a small smile on his face as he listens to everyone complain. "Soap, when's the last time you even used a grinder, let alone bought the right type of swishers? I'll wait."

Johnny stops kissing at your neck. His hands on your hips stop their soft and soothing massage, and he squints his eyes at his friend. "Och, if you must know, pipe supremacy." He's a bit indignant and everyone laughs at this.

You turn to face Johnny fully, "Be honest, Soapy, you and everyone in here knows you only switched to pipes after the flavored paper incident."

Simon barks out a laugh, and so does Kyle and John. Your poor boyfriend only blushes and looks away. You kiss him on the nose and smile.

"How was I ta ken that the cherry ones would taste bad?" He hides his face in the crook of your neck.

Kyle shakes his head and grins, "Point of the matter is, you doubled down and smoked that whole pack until you got sick...but back to the more pressing topic at hand." He sets down the last perfectly rolled blunt and raises an eyebrow, "Everyone acts like they are better at it and here I am rolling every blunt" He side eyes John, "and cigar in the house."

John doesn't even pretend to look ashamed. You go to open your mouth to defend him, but Kyle looks at you with that look. It's a teasing grin with both eyebrows up, daring you to say something smart.

"And sweet girls who don't roll, pack, clean bongs, or even buy should never laugh." He smiles at the way your mouth drops open. But his smile doesn't last for long.

"Everyone but Kyle gets to face fuck me now." You say with a smile.

Extra

"Soap you are literally the nightmare rotation all by yourself." Simon grumbles. He is sitting back, half lidded eyes as he watches his boyfriend jackhammer into your throat. He's already had a turn with your mouth, and so has John. It's well known that it's always Johnny that makes you sore.

You're on your knees, and despite your earlier threat of not giving Kyle any head, he has taken that to mean that he get to be buried balls deep in your pussy. In reality, you were so quick to say everyone gets to have head except Kyle, you forgot why you don't give Johnny head often. There are big fat crocodile tears running down your face. Your head is fuzzy from the amount of weed you've smoked (not that you smoked anything, most of it being shotgunned to you via sloppy kisses).

It really always ends up like this. Simon calls you going down on them a nightmare rotation, you call it a dream come true.

[benkeibear]

⛧°。 ⋆༺ 𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄 ༻⋆。 °⛧

𝑆𝘩𝑒'𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑎𝑐𝑖𝑑 𝑛𝑜𝑟 𝑎𝑙𝑘𝑎𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑒, 𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑡𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑐𝑘 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑤𝘩𝑖𝑡𝑒 - 𝑁𝑜𝑡 𝑞𝑢𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑒𝑖𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑜𝑟 𝑛𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡

𝐼𝑓 𝑎𝑛𝑦𝑡𝘩𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑠𝘩𝑒'𝑠 𝑎𝑛 𝑢𝑛𝑑𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡. 𝐸𝑖𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑟𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝘩𝑒𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑟 𝘩𝑒𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑡 - 𝐵𝑢𝑡 𝑒𝑖𝑡𝘩𝑒𝑟 𝑤𝑎𝑦 𝐼'𝑚 𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑜 𝑖𝑡

༺ synopsis: After getting saved from a, what you assumed to be, cannibal, you are left with no choice but to tag along with your savior and his companions. You might learn their names but their conversations cause more questions to arise... and what do they mean with "you're not a bloodsucker yet"???

༺ characters: Yuuji Itadori, Nanami Kento, Satoru Gojo

༺ reader: female | AFAB

༺ wc: 3050

༺ cw: mentions of cannibalism and vampires, Y/N used once to introduce yourself, broken bones and injuries

༺ notes: chapter 2 is finally here and you get to know your companions that you'll stick with for some time - or at least until you figure out how to get back

MASTERLIST // Taglist

<- Previous Chapter // -> Next chapter (coming soon)

“What are you waiting for? Run!” The blonde man called out to you quite angrily, snapping you out of the shell shock, but your legs barely carried you, letting you stumble away from the scene…

⛧°。 ⋆༺ ————— ༻⋆。 °⛧

It felt like the world around you crumbled apart to dust and the trees slowly fell apart into their singular atoms as you ran, legs numb but carrying you steady so you may escape whatever you just encountered. To be quite honest, you didn't want to have anything to do with it, your head was hurting just thinking about that creep who wanted to quite literally take a bite out of you.

As your mind raced with far too many thoughts, your eyesight betrayed you and the world started to become a haze of blurred colors and black dots clouding your vision. The heavy beating of your heart was once again all you could hear when your ears seemingly shut themselves off to the world around you. Run he said… but where to? What am I supposed to do in the middle of a forest unknown to me? Your thoughts were slowly turning darker and you wondered just where the beautiful lights at the lake and its path disappeared to, making you wonder just where exactly you were.

Just as you were about to bend over to catch a breath, the frantic running straining your stamina, you ran into a figure once again. Your heart stopped beating for a moment when you collided with a warm body, terrified that the creep from before got to you once again.

Before you tumbled to the ground ass first, he caught you by your upper arm. Your eyes were shut tight as you braced yourself for a harsh impact with the ground beneath, but it never came - instead you felt a warm hand holding you by your biceps. The grip was tight, but nowhere near painful and it felt so comfortably warm.

“Now, now, little lady. You should watch where you walk next time. You could have run into trouble headfirst!” He exclaimed amused and made sure you were standing steady before letting go of you again. His white hair seemed to glow underneath the moonlight and his blue eyes were eyeing you like a piece of meat he was about to devour at his dinner table.

“My boyfriend is right behind me! Don't you dare take a bite out of me too, you pervert!” You spat a lie, trying to sound brave, but it only made the man in front of you laugh, earning a disapproving noise from the smaller male standing a little further to the side. You didn't even notice him until then.

“You'll only scare her off! Can't you smell Nanamin on her?” He asked the white haired man and moved a step closer to you, which prompted you to take a step backwards.

The strawberry blonde man held his hands up in defense, his eyes softening when he saw just how frightened you really were - rightfully so. You were in the middle of a forest surrounded by men.

“I won't hurt you… But you should put this on,” he slowly took off his cloak and held it out to you, his arm extended towards you as far as possible so you wouldn't have to get too close.

Cautiously you took one step towards the young man and snatched his cloak as if he would change his mind about the generous offer. It was an, what you would consider oldschool, dark grey cloak made out of felted wool to keep out the wind and rain. With trembling hands you wrapped the piece around your freezing body and relished in the warmth it still kept from being worn by the man in front of you. Only the smell was displeasing - wet dog.

“What were you doing out here anyway? Especially in that… less than appropriate gown?” The white haired man asked as he looked at his friend interacting with you, his head cocked to the side in a curious manner.

“And all by your own,” the strawberry blonde man added, sounding more concerned than accusatory, but you still took offense by it. They were right, though - what were you doing out here anyway?

“I-” you started, but your mouth opened and closed again like a fish on land. Should you tell the truth or try to give them a convincing lie?

“To be quite frank, I don't know what I was doing either,” you mumbled defeated, which caused the younger man's face to fall, looking even more concerned for you now.

“and the gown? If one can even call that…” The white haired man judged your lack of clothes once again. Wearing only an oversized sweater wasn't appropriate nor wise and you knew that, but it's not like you planned on taking a swim or getting chased through the woods by a perverted cannibal.

“We can question her at the village,” a voice from behind startled you, almost causing you to hide behind the man who lent you his cloak.

The blonde man who saved you from said creep was back and despite his clothes having a tear at his arm, soaked with blood, he looked well put together and not even slightly disheveled.

Both men agreed with him, not even questioning him for a single second and he didn't acknowledge you further, only staring you down sternly. His gaze screamed do not argue. You will come with us now and as much as you wanted to tell him to shove it, you decided it's best to tag along for now. After all, he saved you and his two companions were perhaps a little rude, but they were showing no signs of wanting to murder, violate, or eat you, so you deemed them safe - you would still sleep with one eye open, though.

The blonde man walked on without any more words exchanged and the other two followed, expecting you to walk alongside them as well, which you did. Trying your best to keep up, you made sure to stay at least one step behind the small group, out of respect, uncertainty, or whatever told you it's best to keep them at arm's length.

Your position behind the small group gave you enough time to observe them, their features, their clothes and mostly their conversations - which barely made sense to you, so you gave up on that soon. The strawberry blonde haired man, however, caught your eye, one arm carefully cradled to his chest most of the walk until he pointed at something with it once. Without realizing it, a small gasp left your mouth at the sight: His arm was bent at a weird angle, blood sticking to his beige linen shirt that was torn below the elbow, the rest of the sleeve used as a makeshift bandage. Cautiously you walked up to him.

“If you hand me a first aid kit, I could bandage it up until we get to the nearest hospital,” you offer friendly, although carefully. His expression crunches up for a moment as if you're talking a foreign language.

“A first aid what? And we’re not going towards that… Hospital you've mentioned. We go home,” he pointed out, seemingly confused by your sentence. It took you off guard, but you shook your head, refusing to back down.

“A doctor needs to see this… your arm is broken!” You protest and gesture to his arm. Your conversation now caught the attention of the other two men, given that you raised your voice.

“A healer?” The white haired man questioned, which only made you sigh.

“A doctor, a healer. Whatever you call it, but his arm is broken!” You were truly outraged at how they didn't seem to care about it, not even the poor guy himself seemed very fazed.

“Oh that? It's an old wound, it will be healed in no time,” he reassured you, but it only caused more question marks to appear over your head. The wound was old? The blood was freshly dried and it looked no older than two, maybe three, hours.

“He will see a healer once we’re back at our castle. He will be fine soon,” the blonde man said stoically without even looking back to where the three of you were having a heated discussion about seeing a doctor.

The injured man gave you a small smile and nodded, knowing that he had already said too much, but he hoped that the other man's words would help you feel more at ease.

His steps slowed down to match your pace and he studied your face for a moment, your eyes flickering nervously under his intense gaze.

“My name is Yuuji, I don't think I've introduced myself appropriately yet,” he rubbed the back of his neck in a sheepish manner while he gave you a charming grin.

You tried to give the strawberry blonde man a genuine smile, but the corners of your mouth barely managed to move upwards.

“Nice to meet you, Yuuji. I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself, not quite knowing if offering a hand is appropriate given that he's hurt and using his other arm to steady the injured one.

The white haired man repeated your name a few times, giving it a lot of pronunciations and butchering it before rolling it on his tongue a few more times.

“What a beautiful name for such a beautiful lady. My name is Satoru, but I'm sure you'll be screaming it soon,” he winked at you as he walked backwards. Both his arms were up as he rested his hands against the back of his head, but his words made you shudder, unsure if it was with disgust or cringe.

“Don't pay him any mind, he tries to flirt with everything that has a pulse.” Yuuji apologized for his companion, cringing at his words as well.

Satoru gently pushed Yuuji in a playful manner and the two men engaged in playful banter while you tried to catch up with your savior.

“May I ask your name…sir?” You asked quite shy, unsure if you should address him as sir or more casually, but he seemed well respected by the other two.

“Kento. Kento Nanami," he replied cold and looked at you out of the corner of his eye.

“The sir is unnecessary. I’m not that old yet.” He seemed to feel your uncertainty and for a single second, a small smile made its way onto his lips.

You simply nod to the newly acquired information, figuring that he caught your name from the previous conversation since he seemed to follow it in silence.

“Once we’re back, I will make sure the maids dress you properly,” he looked down at you with a certain disdain, the corners of his mouth dropping as if he was disgusted.

“You're dressed even less decently than a lady working at the alehouse,” he added, which caused you to frown, pulling the cloak of Yuuji around you tighter.

“I’m not- I was simply out on a stroll because-” you protested, but he swiftly cut you off before you could try to explain your situation.

“I do not care. All I know is that a woman coming out of this very lake only means trouble,” he shut you down quite harshly, waving his hand in a dismissive manner.

If Nanami was quite honest, he didn't want you anywhere near him or his companions, but he could never live with himself if he wouldn't have helped you. It was almost as natural as breathing to him, putting his own life at risk if it meant being able to save others who were less fortunate than him. It was different with you, though, he considered leaving you to be sucked dry like a raisin after seeing that other man's reaction to you - and now your talks of doctors, kits and hospitals - Nanami was certain that you weren't from around here and that only meant bad news.

“Maybe it's not like that!” Yuuji quipped in unprompted and it made no sense to you - maybe it's not like what?

By now you were as sure as one can be that there's something going on that all three of them are hiding from you and you were unsure if you wanted to know just what it was. Deciding it's best to let them have their secrets for now, you didn't question what exactly the young man meant.

“Then she's your responsibility. Take care of her,” Nanami barked back the order, making you feel like you're some sort of unwanted pet that Yuuji gathered from the street.

“I can take great care of myself, thanks,” you grumbled and fell back again, no longer wanting to have a conversation with the blonde man since you were such a huge bother in his life.

Only a few seconds later, Yuuji was back at your side and gave you a small smile, hoping you're not too hurt by Nanami's words, he can be harsh sometimes, but he means well.

“I know you can take care of yourself, but if anything happens, I won't hesitate to help you, okay?” He asked carefully, gauging your reaction, but when you nodded at him, his smile grew in size.

A comfortable silence fell amongst the four of you as you walked on for what felt like an eternity - and it must have been quite a few hours, given that the sun had begun to rise and illuminated the forest in a soft glow of orange hues, which allowed you to see more clearly. At this point you weren't sure how far you had wandered from the castle, although it slowly dawned on you that returning there anytime soon was not in your cards. Sighing to yourself, you looked back towards the way you came from, silently mourning your old life as you mentally prepared yourself for whatever the path ahead of you had in store - as the unwanted pet, companion, or whatever you were to the three men who saved you from that pesky cannibal just mere hours ago.

At one point your legs were stinging from the cold morning air, the cloak only doing so much to keep the cold out of your drenched clothes and you were able to feel the cold slowly sinking into your skin and deep into your bones. It delicately wrapped itself around each limb, traveling through your entire body like a whisper, slowing your heartbeat and dulling your senses. Your breath looked like a frosty mist with each exhale in front of you, blending into the thin layer of fog that surrounded you and without noticing it, your body became suspended in a tranquil stillness - unable to move much further as it slowed down your system.

“Hey, get up. It's not far anymore." Yuuji’s voice sounded concerned, although distant, as you looked at him with half lidded eyes.

The cold spread through your torso and your lungs felt as if they were cast in a layer of ice, frozen from the inside.

With some strength, you shake your head and look at him, reminding him of a fawn that is yet to take its first steps. Utterly helpless.

“Come here. I'll carry you,” he mumbled and crouched down in front of you, expecting you to climb onto his back.

“Your arm…” Your protest was weak, but he simply dismissed your concern as he hoisted you onto his back himself.

With every step Yuuji took, you melted further into his back, slumping against him as your head rested upon his shoulders. Your limbs went numb and unresponsive, but his body heat provided a great comfort as the first snowflakes started to fall from the gloomy sky, navigating their fall through the few trees that surrounded you - you were almost out of the forest and an open field was ahead of you. The grass wore a thin layer of morning dew that Jack Frost himself must have placed there, every little drop looking like a small diamond as the cold weather slowly froze the world around you.

In the depths of your slumber, you see a woman whose heart was missing as she walks a path that inevitably leads to nothing but flames scorching high enough to reach the horizon above. You can feel the air thicken as she continues her path, but the weight of her love wraps around you like a warm blanket when she smiles softly at a shadowed figure. Who was she?

“Don't follow me,” you hear her voice loud and clear when it was just a whisper as she stepped into the flames that loomed at the end of the path - not a single sign of remorse on her face as her burning body sinks into the arms of the shadowed figure until she is nothing but dust.

When your eyes flutter open, you hope to see your fiancé lying next to you, that all of this was just a bad dream - yet the sorrow of watching this woman turn to ashes clung to your mind as if it's a fresh memory.

Once your eyes adjusted to the light, a pair of bright blue eyes looked right back at you, a grin forming on his lips as well… And were those… fingers in your mouth?

Out of pure shock, you clamp your jaw shut, biting the white haired man in the process, who quickly cradled his now bleeding finger to his chest before licking at the bleeding wound like a hurt kitten.

“Feisty one, aren't ya?” Satoru asked amused as he chuckled. He didn't seem to be mad at you for biting him, surely he would have done the same if the roles were reversed.

“Feisty but not one of them… yet,” he further announced with a huge grin to Nanami, who sat at the table just a few steps away from the quite uncomfortable bed you were laid on.

“Not one of them? Yet?” You questioned worried, your eyes darting back and forth between both men until the door burst open to reveal Yuuji trotting inside with some bread and a glass of water.

“Not a pesky bloodsucker!” He explained thrilled as if this was the most natural thing to announce. Not a... bloodsucker?

Networks: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn @houseofsolisoccasum

[moki-dokie]

also i think this just perfectly highlights this sort of specific mentality we see so often when discussing blockades people face in life - but you see it most around discussions about disability.

"Well *I* can do it" and "Just get ___" are two common rhetorics that get lobbed at you all the time.

Like, for one thing we are not talking about individual cases here, but thousands to millions. That you can find a solution yourself does not automatically mean it's a solution for the millions we're talking about. If it was, there wouldn't be a problem to begin with.

And lets be honest, if you're making a meal with TEN servings for $15 or under, it is not going to be a fully nutritional meal. Basically the only meals that can be made at that price are going to be staple grains or beans and MAYBE if you are very lucky, a very small amount of very cheap and low-quality meat. Sure, that's fine occasionally - it isn't detrimentally unhealthy - but it isn't the kind of meal you should be eating every single day for every single meal. Not only does your body require more nutrients than that, but you'll very quickly find how much worse bad, bland food can make your depression and a shitty situation worse.

There was a time when you could make alllll sorts of meals for $15 or less. Pretty healthy meals too! Ones that could last you a few days, even. But that was at a time when cans of tuna were still like 30c and less, when canned veg was like 20c, when eggs were not even a whole dollar for a dozen. i'm very fortunate that where i live is like cattle paradise and thus we have incredibly low-cost beef compared to the rest of the country, but even still it's hard to find your basic chuck roast under $10 now. fucking chicken breasts are hard to find for under $10. CHICKEN!!

and, let us not forget that minimum wage has still not yet raised since 2009. yet our jobs have grown exponentially harder and more stressful, our hours longer, commute times worse, and our general health is in the shitter bc nobody can afford having just a routine primary care physician anymore.

Yet the mentality is still somehow stuck in this early 00s era. That lifestyle is not sustainable anymore. Hasn't been for a long time.

And as for "just get ___" okay, so tell me how? Is someone without an appliance to cook with meant to just starve themselves for a week to save in order to buy said appliance? yes, you would save money if you could get a thing to cook with, but in the meantime you still have to eat. and yet again that doesn't address any other blockade that there may well be. so maybe they get like, a toasteroven and a hot plate. awesome. now what good is that if they come in from a 10 hour shift at 9pm and have only enough time to shower before needing to get to bed for the next day's shift? how does having that appliance help them if they can't physically operate it? how would having a hot plate save any money if their dietary needs are far too costly from a grocer? If they have no place to store cold ingredients?

It isn't about individual issues. It isn't just ONE thing that has caused this big stupid problem. solve one thing and there's seven more problems still blocking the ultimate solution. It's a whole fucking mess of issues that continue to get worse and worse as capitalism continues to suck up more of our lives.

and you know what, i'll be the first one to admit that SOMETIMES, yes, i am just fucking lazy. But most times, I'm faced with like five different blockades and some of them aren't even shit I listed - like sharing a house with three people who work very different shifts and when *I* have time to use the kitchen, I run the risk of waking someone else up. Even if nothing else stood in my way, I only have the ability to cook without disturbing someone 1 day a week. i can only imagine what a nightmare it must be for folks with 4 and 5 housemates on different schedules.

there's been a bit of a Hot Topic going around bsky (and twt too i guess) about why my age group (particularly in the US) doesn't cook at home much anymore

and there's been a whole lot of takes ranging from dogshit to good and intelligent to total confusion from folks in other countries. neat stuff right. decided to throw my 2 cents in from my own perspective as part of the demographic.

the tldr of it being: there are *several* factors that make it not worth it nor cost efficient anymore where it once was. obviously that isn't gonna be the case for everyone, but it is the case for an overwhelming majority, me included. and this isn't even including, you know, a whole population of disabled people who are physically unable to cook for themselves but I sort of figured that was a given. but maybe not, considering...

then this absolute genius comes in

thank you buddy for having no reading comprehension and missing quite literally every single point i made that it isn't strictly about the dollar amount of the meal itself. like. okay??? good for you i guess.

sure, there will be some meals where that is very true. I could make a bigass pot of ham and beans that'll last me a whole week for about $10. hence why i added there will always be some meals cheaper to make at home. but that completely disregards every. other. point.

it is not, and has never been, about the direct cost of the meal itself. that's just one of a handful of reasons that factor into the whole conversation. there are going to be times that eating out will be more expensive price-wise, but when it checks off like 5 different boxes i couldn't fulfill myself for whatever reason, that price balances out. and we really are in an age where we're having to negotiate the worth of every action we take and every minute we spend on something. i don't know why thats such a hard concept for people to grasp.

legit nobody is arguing it *should* be this way. it shouldn't. we all recognize this. in the ideal world it would be both worth it and affordable to make every meal at home and leave eating out for special occasions, as was the case when i was growing up. and i totally get it that our parents, many of whom raised us by their lonesome, managed to do it fine so in theory we should be able to as well. sometimes, yeah, it really is a matter of sucking it up and doing it no matter how exhausted you might be. that's true for all facets of life tbh. but it shouldn't be that way all the time every time.

and, i don't know about the rest of you, but for us? it really was a whole fucking To Do to clip coupons and plan Shopping Day. I'd spend a couple hours clipping from a few different newspapers and the mail fliers we collected. then we organized them by store. then mom would plan out which stores we would go to for which items,the route we'd take since sometimes it meant going outside of town, the timeframe for everything since it was typically an all-day event. like, a whole day of planning and a whole day of executing JUST to grocery shop, and that was back in the 90s/00s. Inconvenient, yes, but still actually worth the trouble. couponing saved SO much money back then, especially if you knew the stores that would double them. coupons like those don't exist anymore. period. now the ones that do are like, pennies off or bogo deals and otherwise it's app this and app that for any sort of savings - which even then might only be like a meager 10% off the purchase. in no way is it worth my time and effort today to do the same thing we did when i was young.

anyway. so yeah. for a hell of a lot of us, sometimes going out to eat or ordering in is in fact the most worthwhile way, and sometimes even the most cost efficient way, to feed ourselves anymore.

[docagonthoughts]

MY PROBLEMS WITH THE LEGEND OF ZELDA MOVIE

Okay, hi.

I have a LOT of reasons this movie should never in a million years happen, but my family is getting sick of hearing them, so I'm here to share them with you because I'm very frustrated with some school things right now and I need to channel my anger into something that matters.

First is that it's going to be live-action.

This was a terrible choice on their part because no matter who they cast as Link and Zelda, they aren't going to be good enough for the role. And no, I don't mean as in acting skill, I mean in terms of appearance. They're just not going to be able to capture it.

Second of all, casting.

Casting for this movie will be tricky for multiple reasons. Like I said previously, whoever they choose to cast won't be able to capture the physical essence of the characters. Not only that, but they can't cast a super famous guy (ESPECIALLY not Tom Holland) because Link is always supposed to be a little nobody twink who shows up with a 'i have no idea what I'm doing but I'm doing it anyway' mentality, not some hotshot guy everyone knows.

Third, twink-y-ness.

As we all know, Link is twinkier than a Twinkie, and if they fail to capture that, what is even the point. We need to see Link in at least one slutty outfit with a stupid hairstyle or else that isn't Link, that's just Chad.

Fourth, the target audience.

The target audience is probably my main concern with this movie, if I'm honest. Based on recent media, I've seen many things get taken over by 10 year old humor, Jack Black (no hate on him, but I think ykwim), and bad graphics. That's where I get concerned.

A good majority of the people who love the Legend of Zelda like I do are older than the age of 10 and don't want this movie to be overly goofy or 'watered down'. Like I said before, the Legend of Zelda games are whimsical, but also very dark at times. That's what makes them perfect; there's a balance.

Fifth, Link himself.

If you didn't know, Link doesn't usually talk or have a super distinguishable personality because the creators designed him with the audience in mind. You're supposed to be able to imagine Link in any way, even as yourself.

Now, that's not to say he can't have a personality. I'm just saying that whatever personality they give him will not work.

Not only that, but I just know they're going to make him talk. I know it. Now, i know some people are probably like 'wEll, DrAgON, How aRe theY suPPOsEd to MaKe him INterEstIng If HE doEsN'T TAlK?', to which I pat them on the head and remind them of the incredibly successful movie 'The Quiet Place' where all of the characters were silent and used sign language. In this movie's case, ONLY LINK would be silent, making it even EASIER for them.

Sixth, is Hyrule.

Now, I don't have too many concerns about Hyrule itself since it's pretty easy to make a movie pretty in terms of the landscape, but if it looks anything remotely similar to the Minecraft movie trailer, I will not watch it.

Seventh is the Villain.

My main concern with whichever villain they choose (most likely Ganon, but I think it'd be interesting to use a different villain like Vaati or the Demise), only because I don't want them to act like Bowser did in the Mario movie. Don't get me wrong, I think that worked for Bowser. But for Ganon? No. And I swear to you, if the villain or ANYONE is played by Jack Black, I will have an actual meltdown. (Love you Jack Black, but please no)

Eighth is the music.

As we all know (or at least you should), the Legend of Zelda has some of the most beautiful music ever. The Song of Storms, Zelda's Lullaby, Ballad of the Wind Fish, these are all great songs. If they screw this up, I will hate it.

And finally, number Nine: the essence and vibe of the movie.

This is my other main concern. Can I explain to you why I love the Legend of Zelda so Much? No, I can't. All I can tell you is that the 'feel' of it is what I love. If they fail to capture the whimsy and the wholesomeness but also the underlayer of darkness that the games possess, this movie will bomb.

Let me give you a few examples of other medias that failed to capture their source material:

Star Wars (The Force Awakens, The Last Jedi, The Rise of Skywalker). All three of those movies sucked imo because they didn't feel like a Star Wars movie, they felt like a Star Wars fanfiction. This isn't any of the cast's fault, either. They did good for what they were given. But the movie itself (expecially the character changes in Luke) lacked that feeling the other Star Wars movies hold.

Star Trek Discovery and Picard. Both of these shows are objectively the worst Star Trek series. And, it's for the same exact reasons as those Star Wars movies. THE PEOPLE MAKING THEM AREN'T FANS OF THE FRANCHISE!!! They don't understand them, they don't understand why people LIKE them. But if you look at their newest show, Strange New Worlds, it's doing spectacularly. Why? BECAUSE THE NEW WRITERS ARE FANS OF THE SHOW. THEY GET IT.

If you couldn't tell, I'm very passionate about this one.

In conclusion, you can tell that my hopes for this movie are incredibly, painfully low. Can you blame me, though? This is my favorite thing in the world, an I'd love to have a movie about it. But in recent times, movies and shows based off of already beloved things have not been doing well because they don't capture the feeling of them. The people put in charge of these movies most likely haven't played a single Legend of Zelda game in their lives, so they don't get it and they aren't going to be able to capture our souls like the games do.

Thank you for listening to my messy rant.

[incognito-lionbeast]

Update the Third: I finished it... and bro I care them. so much.

[benevolenterrancy]

("Always. Continuously. With increasing apprehension, and decreasing hope. I will love you if I never see you again, and I will love you if I see you every Tuesday. I will love you as a corpse loves the beak of the vulture. I will love you no matter what happens to you, and no matter how I discover what happens to you, and no matter what happens to me as I discover this." -- paraphrased from The Beatrice Letters, Lemony Snicket)

[paragonrobits]

to be fair, the likes of Nightcrawler and Beast still have 'ostracized by society and unable to live normal lives because they're obviously Not Regular Humans' is still a core part of their characters!

So the first thought I got about this is that this IS the Marvel universe, the same setting where authorities regularly create and send out robots speciifcally created to genocide mutants and mutant-adjacent people and the public at large generally doesn't care. It's quite possible that monsterfucker demographic is LOWER than in real life, because its an actual possible thing and widespread discrimination against obviously nonhumans means its possible that fewer people will admit to being into it.

The second bit is, lets say the monsterfucker demographic IS the same as in real life; the biggest issue I can see popping up is actually applying those feeligns to someone you meet in real life MIGHT not be a best case scenario. The Thing is a walking monster made of living stone and explicitly is bizarre and ugly looking; that might be enough to get a lot of people to be unable to overcome their revulsion, even if in theory they'd be attracted to a monster-looking creature.

But let's say that doesn't happen! They're still attracted to him.

That doesn't mean he'd feel good about it, I think?

Ben Grimm's character is heavily based around his internalized feelings of rejection and monstrosity; he canonically hid his heritage for YEARS because he thought being a prominent Jewish man with such a monstrous appearance would only inflame antisemitic violence and rhetoric, more extreme versions of him are shown to be very literally self-destructive, and his character is deeply based around him feeling like a monster despite being the most heroic guy around. He's noble, honest and always goes the extra mile to save someone in need, but he still feels like a freak.

Compounding this is the fact that he can't really live a normal life, even without any rejection happening from others. His manual dexterity is severely limited due to the shape of his fingers, he sometimes has extremely limited sense of touch (which can throw off a LOT of sensory stuff), and sometimes his strength is hard to control, making him struggle to open a door and accidentally break it as he loses patience, leaving him to mournfully grumble about what's the point of bein' the strongest if ya can't even OPEN A DOOR without breaking it and owing someone money over it?

but I think the biggest issue is monsterfuckers being a big part of his demographic in-universe would make him feel worse?

something like, him being resentful or upset that they ONLY find him attractive for his grotesque appearance, and being found attractive over something you can't stand in yourself is usually something that sets people off, and he is already established as going the extra mile to find something to feel doubtful and self-critical over.

Ben Grimm's whole thing about being shunned by society wouldn't work in a modern Fantastic Four adaptation.

Like if the Thing debuted in the modern day, it wouldn't even take a day for a million monsterfuckers to publicly proclaim their thirst for the guy.

[my-pjo-stuff]

*YAPPING AHEAD, THIS IS LONG*

As someone who has circled through a LOT of fandoms, you know what differentiates the PJO fandom from most of the others? Their raging hatred for what normally would be a very popular character archetype. "Who's that character archetype then" you ask? The answer is Luke Castellan. Unirnonically, I'm complety straight with this.

Luke Castellan is one of the most popular character archetypes in most other fandoms I am/were in.

Now before I get further into this meta, we should establish what archetype Luke actually is and what the criteria are. To me, Luke is the classical Sympathetic Fallen Hero. Someone who only wanted what's best at the end of the day who was wronged by an unjust system, and pushed into straight-up villainy and evil deeds in a desperate attempt for revenge or justice. Oftentimes that push happened by him joining up with a larger, more evil figure who manipulated his hatred into serving this larger, evil goal. Generally also has some deep-rooted trauma in the form of a DARK backstory.

Like literally, that guy is TEXTBOOK. He checks all the boxes. -Someone who only wanted what's best at the end of the day

Check. His goal was a "golden age" for demigods, a future where they would no longer have to die during quests or would be abandoned by their godly parents.

-and pushed into straight-up villainy and evil deeds in a desperate attempt for revenge or justice.

Check. Luke wanted both revenge and justice, which led him to form the Titan Army and all the bad stuff he did. Some include attempting to kill Percy multiple times and leading attacks on camp. The obvious superiority the gods would have over a demigod army led to Luke allying himself with Kronos and other evil forces. (Thus the "desperate" part)

-Oftentimes that push happened by him joining up with a larger, more evil figure who manipulated his hatred into serving this larger, evil goal.

Check. On multiple occasions has it been mentioned that Kronos punished and pressured Luke, using fear tactics to get him to do what he wanted. I mean- Kronos himself said that he would have preferred Percy because he "did things easier" referring to taking the CoA ("I had to pressure Luke in many ways(.....)")

-Generally also has some deep-rooted trauma in the form of a DARK backstory.

Check. His mother went insane when he was still an infant. Hermes practically abandoned them, leaving Luke to be raised by his mentally unstable mother having episodes that scarred him so bad he hid in closets. He proceeded to run away at 9, living on the streets completely alone before meeting Thalia. From then on he went around with her having to deal with monsters. Hal happened, they met Annabeth and Luke started to get parentified/parentified himself. He proceeded to watch Thalia die as he attempted to get to camp at 14. At the same age he had his quest, which he failed and got himself a nasty scar. Luke proceeded to get no discernable mental help or sufficient support to deal with the mental strain resulting from that. Instead, he was put into a caretaker role for younger children not only showing him the results of the system's neglect first hand but also effectivley robbing him of any semblance of a childhood. Once Kronos got to him he continued to the plagued by nightmares.

All that being said, we now established that Luke in fact is a textbook example of what I call the Sympathetic Fallen Hero. (SFL for short from now on) Now onto my point that the other fandoms generally really love the SFL archetype that Luke is. That I will do with examples. Before I list these examples, a short disclaimer. I HEAVILY shortened and abridged the plot and storylines on here as to not make this post overly long. I definitely recommend checking each of these media/characters out for yourself.

Anyway, here we go : STAR WARS :

A big part of the fandom LOVE Anankin/Darth Vader whom they view as a SFH. (Even though him not really being a SFL in the way that he checks all the boxes. But I'm going with the majority fandom view here so ig Vaderkin counts. For those who want, I made a post on my main comparing him to Luke here and how Luke is what the star wars fandom pretends Vader is.)

MY HERO ACADEMIA/BOKU NO HERO ACADEMIA:

I want to talk the Villain Deku AU. Which is basically just an evil version of the MC who also checks all the SFH boces. The AU is hugely popular in the fandom with tons of fanart, animatics, cosplays and even a fan song. Honorable mention to the main anatonigst from the League of Villains, but especially Shigaraki and Dabi. They may not check ALL SFH boxes but an overwhelming majority. They are very popular with the fandom and generally regarded very kindly. Another honorable mention goes out to Stain. Also doesn't check ALL the SFH boxes, but most, and is also regarded generally positivley by the fandom.

THE PROMISED NEVERLAND

Norman, one of the main trio, spends a good part of the later manga seperated and leading his own resistance group against the main bad guy race (of monsters eating human brains- long story but I recommend the manga(don't watch s2 of the anime tho, it's basically the pjo movies for the manga)). Later on it is revealed that the main bad race isn't pure evil. Norman however got to the point where he wanted to commit a straight-up genocide against the race. Women, children, and elderly included. Bit of an outlier for a SFH, since he has no higher figure manipulating him into wanting to commit that genocide- but I'll let it slide. I did use the words "oftentimes" and "generally"- he also get's "redeemed" at the end/stopped from committing said genocide. Again the fandom regards him positively, even having him as a fan favorite.

NARUTO CLASSIC/NARUTO SHIPPUDEN

..... I mean most of the villains are SFH in that show. To the point where we would be here ages if I wanted to list them all. The two main examples most popular with the fandom tho would be Pain and Sasuke. Pain is a main villain whose home got destroyed, partially because of the MC's own home village. He watched his own parents die, and later lost one of his two best friends which finally pushed him over the edge (among others). Pain is also an outlier in terms of a SFH since he didn't have a major bad guy to manipulate him, instead leading his own evil (basically) terrorist cell. His goal was to achieve world peace by harnessing an ancient power, wanting others to suffer as much as he did so they recognize the value of peace. He killed a BUNCH of people. Pain did later revive a good chunk at the price of his own life however post redemption by the MC. Sasuke is the secondary MC and rival of the protagonist. Honestly he has so much going on I couldn't possibly mention it all. Basics are that his family got killed by his own brother due to difficult politics, he was the only survivor. His drive for revenge against his older brother caused him to join up with the main bad guy of Naruto Classic who rly only wanted him as a vessel (flashbacks much). Sasuke betrays his home for the bad guy to get the power he needs to take revenge. All that was stoked by the main bad guy and his comments. More plot happens, turns out the brother rly wasn't entierly bad and was also just used by other higher powers. Sasuke switches sides again and kills OG bad guy and joins up with Pain's previously mentioned terrorist group. The main goal from there is to destroy his home village who used his brother. He was not shy to kill ppl at that point, and was also basically ready to just commit a genocide on his own home. More plot happens, he get's redeemed eventually. Again in both cases the two are CRAZY popular with the fandom.

PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS

I talked about this once already on here, but the fandom seems to LOVE AUs where dark!Percy just opts to straight up overthrow Olympus. I don't think i have to elaborate more on that tbh, but for those that are interested: Here's the post I made about the fandom's hypocrisy concerning dark!Percy and Luke.

And those were only 5 examples, there are many more SFL examples LOVED by the fandom I haven't mentioned here. I'm sure of that.

Seeing this pattern really makes me wonder why Luke seems to be so despised. Logic would dictate him to be rather popular.

My personal theory ? It's a mix of a few factors. Those being : A) The fandom over-sympathizes with Percy Jackson

Percy is easily the most popular character in the fandom. He is the MC afterall. The fandom tends to take his side no matter what, without properly and honestly empathizing with his enemies. It's similar to having rose tinted glasses with a relative or friend. You take their side no matter what- not even wanting to hear out the other side. The fandom seems to have an inherent bias towards Percy, those nice to Percy are viewed positivley. Those having more negative interactions (,even if the interaction is relatively low on the nagtive scale, like a character being critical of Percy for example,) are generally viewed more negativley.

B) The First Person POV of the books and the average age of the fans when they first read the books.

This relates to the first factor in the way that the very Percy-centric set up of the fandom AND the books influence the fandom's perception of characters. The books where Luke appears in are all in Percy's POV. Luke as a character in very complex and needs a lot of empathy and reading between the lines to properly understand and analyze. The books being in Percy's POV hurt Luke in the way that Percy's opinion of Luke is omnipresent with him. Any First Person POV is inherently unreliable, thus Luke often gets presented as a rather one-dimensional evil since that's what Percy views him as for most the book. Luke lacks his own POV, meaning he doesn't really get the chance to truly explain himself. Then ontop of that is the fact that everything he does is filtered through Percy's eyes which are inherently hostile towards him ost the time. Such delivers a wrong first impression of Luke throughout the books. The fandom, due to their attachment to Percy, often do not take their time to objectivley reevaluate his POV or confront the fact that he's an inherently unreliable narrator. Especially for Luke. Furthermore, from what I have seen are a lot of the fans in the fandom "old timers". People who read the first few books as young children and were children when their opinions of characters formed. Them having been so young when first getting introduced to the characters saw them often unable to even really realize all I said above. It also further glorifies Percy as he get's the nostalgia bonus. People generally do not like to challenge their own believes, so large parts of the fandom never took their time to reevaluate Luke and his story once they got older and learnt about the concept of Unreliable Narrators.

C) The fandoms views Luke as a threat to Percy and Percabeth.

This relates to both factors above, while also including the popular false narrative of Luke being a "pedo" or "groomer" If you read the first five books you will see that besides his last question to Annabeth at the end, nothing Luke does can be even remotely read as pedophilic or grooming of nature. Quite the opposite acctualy! He has stated on multiple occasions canonically that he sees his relationship with Annabeth as platonic. The ONLY canonical romantic relationship he had was with a grown monster. He's only ever portrayed having interest in adult women (monsters) , and even that romance plot is just barely there. The fandom, again, is overly attached to Percy however. And they do not like it when other characters challenge him. Luke however is the MOST challenging character for Percy. Not only does he serve as main antagonist, but he also serves as a narrative foil to Percy. He is what Percy could become. He's the canonical dark!Percy AU. He's the other side of the coin toss. Furthermore, Luke also challenges Percy not only on the physical department (fights) but also in terms of morals. At the end of the day Luke was right afterall. One could argue that Percy wasn't really fighting for the "good guys"- he was simply fighting for the "lesser of two evils" Luke brings moral challenges to Percy. He doesn't allow Percy to be a wholly good , squeaky-clean hero. Percy was fighting for the upkeep of an oppressive system. (If U wanna argue with me on the gods being oppressive, take it up with the offical wiki article first : found here) Percy killed other demigods. Percy had flawed views. The fandom who over sympathise with Percy didn't like that Luke was an active threat towards the "goodness" of their favorite. The easiest way out eliminate that "threat" was to demonize Luke. Thus making his points "invalid" as he now was a pure evil villain only aiming to hurt. (Same for the entier TA btw) Percabeth is just as popular as Percy. Annabeth had a deep and important connection to Luke- at the time of the books arguably even deeper and more important than her connection to Percy. Throughout the book has Percy expresses annoyance at Annabeth's insistence in holding onto Luke. This combined with the points above saw Luke being viewed as a possibly threat, due to him being arguably the most important person of the other gender in Annabeth's life. And an obvious point of contention between Percabeth. Inorder to lessen that "threat" the fandom turned to demonizing Luke (again). Annabeth's and Luke's relationship can easily be swept away by saying that Luke was interested in her romantically thus making him a pedo, no ? As for the grooming....... honestly? People just used a buzzword there, because if Luke truly had groomed Annabeth she would have been on his side on the books. All I can say there is please you guys, read a dictionary and know what words mean before you use them.

D) Rick fumbled HARD writing Luke

Luke may just have been the biggest continuous mistake Uncle Rick made in terms of writing. His characterisation in the first two books made him seem VERY evil and unlikable, which is bad as a first impression for a character such as him. SFL like Luke need a lot of focus and insight aswell as sympathy to get behind them. In most examples I mentioned for SFL they backstory was known very early on and they had a lot more focus outside of villainy. Rick simply didn't give that. The backstory reveal with Luke happened far too late, he was far too evil with too little insight for a SFL in the first two books. His "redemtion" was a bit rushed. We got basically nothing on his relationship with his army. His goods sides and his doubts weren't really highlighted enough early on. His last words and questions to Annabeth were frankly said stupid. It broke the themes of family between Luke and Annabeth to some degree and only served as fodder for later accusations. The fact that it was (apperantly) later confirmed that he romantically loved Annabeth was just straight up stupid. It wasn't in character at all and just broke the themes even more, not to mention that it goes against everything we previously saw or heard of Luke. Not to mention that it also just served as further fodder for the fandom to demonize Luke.

Thanks for everyone who stuck around to read this absolute giant of a meta XD Probably was the largest Tumblr post I have written so far.

[qcomicsy]

Marvel writer: Then Wade get involved with monsters! And–

Me:

[5mcsinatrenchcoat]

I don't remember if I made this post already but I'm still not understanding why we're tripping over ourselves to 'justify' our choices in the game (some people exposing their entire ass in the process re: the Assan over Davrin thing).

Like what do you fucking meeeean "It makes more narrative sense to do X", the narrative does not expect there to be a right choice, neither of them "make more sense" that's the poinnnnt. THE POINT BEING THAT BOTH CITIES AND BOTH PEOPLE ARE A SENSELESS TRAGIC WASTE THAT'S SUPPOSED TO WEIGH ON YOUR CONSCIENCE. WHY ARE WE METAGAMING IT.

(No I don't mean people who use the knowledge to orchestrate the most fucked up or thematically meaningful story for their Rook. That's roleplaying and has nothing to do with "Being Correct").

[little-mouse-adventures]

Disney's animated Mulan came out in 1998, and I just know 13yr old Juliet Butler would have been insufferable about it

[novelconcepts]

i don't make resolutions, but if i did

it would be to finish this fic

(and to be kind to myself for however long it takes to actually do so)

[deadrlngers]

OC DUALITY + TRAGEDY ROLE

i was tagged by @risingsh0t @morvaris @devilbrakers to take this quiz and by @indorilnerevarine and @girlbosselrond to take this other quiz for my ocs. thank you all soso much!!!

i'm super late to this and i'm sure these already made rounds so i'm tagging whoever wants to do this <3

— oc duality:

god-hungry scientist and their abominable child

you stitched something together inside of yourself and gave it life with light from the sky and now it won't die it and you can't kill it because part of you loves it and you're not quite right in the head or the person you used to be but at the end of the day it's simply a beast of sadness. you crave the mercy you didn't get from your creators and so i'm telling you please forgive yourself. please hold the monster by the hand.

bandmates with firecracker sexual chemistry

you are like shooting stars. you are misguided and magnetic and drawn to your loves without hesitation. something about you gulps down anything it finds. and you're fun, and you stick your tongue out to anyone, and we love you for it with kisses and pulls of the hair. you will be remembered in fascination and jealousy. you are unforgettable.

— tragedy role:

misunderstood villain

prepare for an onslaught of both the most dehumanizing and hateful takes, and flood of thirst comments. you are chronically misunderstood. whether or not you're actually evil is debatable. you may be acting out for revenge, to defend someone you love, or even just to protect yourself. you're a pretty jaded person. you don't trust or even really like most people. maybe you did at one point. but that part of you is gone, and you don't go a single day without grieving it. you think a lot about what your life could have been. you're stuck in the past. you're angry and maybe you don't even want to be, but this is the only way you can see to survive. you're open, but less in a trusting way and more like a wound. you don't like to let people see you, but the hurt spills out of you before you can stop it. you're impulsive, even as you try hard to plan and prepare. maybe someday your side of the story will finally be heard. until then, you can convince yourself that being hated is safer anyway.

tortured love interest

you're so hot. sorry about the horrors. you're the kind of person people immediately notice. whether you have a distinct style, are more outgoing, or are just plain beautiful, you make an impression. people usually feel the need to protect you, which probably frustrates you to no end. you're not weak! you're not fragile! you're not helpless! but the people in your life tend to disagree. maybe it's your lover, the protagonist, trying to keep you out of their own turmoil. maybe it's someone responsible for you in some way, keeping you away from your lover, while they head down an increasingly dark path. regardless, all you really want is a sense of autonomy! unfortunately, you're very likely to die before that happens. the audience will be so caught up in the grief your death causes the protagonist that they forget to grieve you as a person. you deserved better, but unfortunately this is not your story. maybe it should have been.

[death-rebirth-senshi]

Ough Lady Maria.

[seventeengoingunder]

“I hope you're all listening, I'm pouring out my heart for paper, a part of me still believes that love is all I'm really after” is such a soulcrushing lyric actually