#we must protect that smile at all cost

[luwkade]

He takes a sec to actually consider luffy's offer. But his tone changes into a calm sad one, when he again comes to the understanding that he can't.

No he's clearly not T_T take him out of there.

Fun fact: He actually smiles a lot when he's around luffy and the crew.

[confusedspaceotter]

Absolutely love the way OB shakes Casey’s hand here, my man got manners (and went right back to panic mode

[cinamun]

Danger-Shaped Dancer | Next

That was one hell of a night and we just narrowly avoided disaster. Who knows what else the night has in store for this fearless foursome. As always, stay tuned.

Lot Credit

[jub1lee-mous]

[slowlycleverpeach]

Oh god i love them ♡

Why am i crying !? Why am i crying !? (TT)

We must protect them  ( Ĭ ^ Ĭ ) 

[sunshine7queen]

@yuujispinkhair @windlullaby @thefallofruins @madameminx @quinnyundertow

[tecchan]

Noooooo they removed the scene where Kitani gets knocked out... no smooch :((

[idkyetxoxo]

Jacaerys Velaryon - Protect and Avenge

Summary - Ambushed by ruthless bandits, Jace's wife is ripped from his arms, igniting a fury within him and he truly will stop at nothing to protect the woman he loves, no matter the cost.

Pairing - Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warnings - Violence

Word count - 2442

Masterlist for Jacaerys • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

The journey to the Wall was proving longer and more exhausting than I had anticipated, yet my determination to see it through remained steadfast. 

From the outset, I had pleaded with Jace and Lord Stark to let me accompany them, yearning for a chance to steal a few peaceful moments with my husband amidst the rigors of the trip.

As we pressed onward, Lord Stark and his men rode ahead, scouting for a suitable place to rest for the night. Despite my weariness, I found myself captivated by the beauty of the landscape around us. 

The tall trees stood like silent sentinels, their leaves whispering in the cool evening breeze, while the fading light painted the sky in hues of orange and pink.

"This is all so beautiful," I murmured, almost to myself, as I admired the view.

"It is, isn't it?" Jace responded, though his eyes remained fixed on me.

"When all of this is over," I began, my voice tinged with longing, "we should travel—see the great wonders across the Narrow Sea."

Jace's smile softened as he reached out to touch my hand. "Anything you wish," he promised.

Just as the peaceful moment settled between us, the serenity of the forest was shattered. 

Figures emerged from the shadows without warning, their movements swift and silent. My heart leapt as they stepped onto the path, blocking our way and forcing us to halt abruptly.

Jace's hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, tension radiating from him as he scanned the strangers. Their faces were obscured by capes, but their postures were unmistakably threatening.

I took a deep breath and straightened in my saddle, striving to keep my voice calm as I addressed them. "Apologies, have we done something to offend you?"

The leader, a tall figure with a rough voice, stepped forward. "Your presence here is what offends us," he said, his tone cold and menacing. "These lands are not safe for travelers."

I exchanged a quick glance with Jace, who subtly shifted to place himself between me and the leader. The tension in the air was palpable, and I felt my pulse quicken.

"We are simply passing through," I replied, my voice steady despite the fear creeping up my spine. "We mean no harm and seek only to continue on our way."

The man's eyes roved over us, lingering on our fine cloaks, the well-crafted saddles, and the quality of our horses. I could see the gears turning in his mind, a calculating look crossing his face as he assessed us.

"I do not see a traveling party," he remarked, gesturing to the empty road around us.

"Lord Cregan Stark and his men are not far ahead," Jace said, his tone firm but cautious. "We are accompanying them."

At the mention of Lord Stark, the man's eyebrows lifted slightly, and he glanced back at his group. They straightened, exchanging knowing looks.

"Lord Stark?" the leader repeated, his voice now tinged with interest. "You must be some important guests, then."

A chill ran through me as I realized what he was thinking. Our clothes, our horses, the mere mention of Lord Stark—all marked us as wealthy, or at least valuable. To a group like this, we were the perfect targets.

The leader smirked, a sinister glint in his eyes as he turned back to us. "Seems we've found ourselves a bit of fortune today, boys," he said, his voice dripping with malice.

Before we could react, the men closed in around us. Jace's hand flew to his sword, drawing it with a sharp hiss as he braced himself to defend us. The determination in his eyes was clear, but so were the overwhelming odds against us.

"Stay close to me," Jace ordered, his voice low and tense.

The men moved with practiced precision, their intentions unmistakable. They saw an opportunity to take something, or someone, of value, and they weren't going to let it slip through their fingers.

Jace swung his sword, delivering a fierce blow to the first attacker, but more men quickly swarmed around us. I reached for the dagger I kept hidden, trying desperately to assist, but the chaos was overwhelming.

There were too many of them, too strong, and despite Jace's valiant efforts, it wasn't enough.

Rough hands suddenly grabbed me, yanking me from my horse. I screamed and struggled, but their grip was relentless. Jace's face twisted into a mask of fury as he fought to reach me, but the men were ruthless.

"Let her go!" Jace roared, desperation and rage lacing his voice as he slashed at the men holding me. For a fleeting, heart-stopping moment, he managed to break through, reaching out to pull me back.

But more men piled on, and the force was too great. I was torn from his grasp and dragged backwards, my efforts to escape futile against their ironclad hold.

"Jace!" I cried out, my voice trembling with terror as I was pulled further away. I saw the anguish in his eyes, the helpless rage as he struggled against the overwhelming numbers.

Jace fought like a man possessed, his sword flashing in the dimming light, but it wasn't enough. 

The men were too many, their intent too fierce, and I was dragged away from him, my captors tightening their grip.

"Take her!" the leader barked, and I was roughly hauled into the trees. My screams echoed through the forest, growing fainter as Jace's desperate shouts diminished in the distance.

My heart pounded as I was ripped from the man I loved. The once-beautiful forest had transformed into a nightmarish blur as I was carried off into the unknown, my fear of what awaited me mounting with every step.

"Let me go!" I thrashed wildly as they dragged me deeper into the forest, but their grip remained unyielding.

They flung me over the back of a horse, my body jolting with each rough step as we moved further and further from Jace, from safety. In the distance, the soft, flickering light of a campfire came into view, casting ominous shadows over my impending fate.

The men shoved me to the ground, and I winced as the rough earth scraped against my skin. They quickly bound my hands and feet with coarse rope, the knots tight and unforgiving. I could hear their voices murmuring among themselves, low and urgent.

Their ragged appearance marked them as mercenaries or bandits from the Riverlands, their clothes worn and their faces hardened by a life of crime.

"Please, listen to me," I begged, my voice trembling with fear, but they ignored me, engrossed in their whispered discussions.

"Listen!" I shouted, forcing some of them to turn and look at me.

"The man you just fought is Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, heir to the Iron Throne, and I am his wife," I declared, my words spilling out in a desperate rush as tears streamed down my face. "His mother, the queen, will not take this lightly. Just let me go, and we can end this now."

The men exchanged uneasy glances, the gravity of my words slowly sinking in. One of them, a wiry man with a cruel smirk, raised an eyebrow in disbelief.

"You lot nicked a princess?" he asked, his twisted grin widening.

"Well, we didn't know she was a princess when we took her," another man retorted defensively, his voice tinged with nervousness.

As the realization of their mistake dawned on them, the unease in their eyes became palpable. A crime like this would undoubtedly draw the wrath of the crown.

Instead of releasing me, their hesitation grew, caught between fear and greed. The leader stepped forward, his face hardening as he weighed their options.

"If she's truly who she claims to be, then she's worth a king's ransom," he said, his voice cold and calculating.

My heart sank as I grasped the danger I was in. These men, desperate and driven by greed, had nothing to lose and everything to gain. I was now the unfortunate prize in their ruthless game.

Before I could react, rough hands grabbed me again, clawing at my clothes and forcing me to my feet. They dragged me forward, shoving me into the center of the circle they had formed. Their eyes gleamed with a perverse curiosity, as if I were a rare and exotic creature on display.

"Hold her up!" one of the men barked, and more hands seized me, lifting me so that I was suspended in their grip, my feet barely touching the ground.

The ropes binding my wrists and ankles dug painfully into my skin, but the physical pain was eclipsed by the overwhelming sense of humiliation that washed over me.

They passed me around like a lifeless doll, their rough hands poking and prodding with cruel enjoyment. Their laughter and crude comments were relentless. Tears stung my eyes, but I fought to keep them back, determined not to give them the satisfaction of seeing me break.

"Look at her," one sneered, yanking at my cloak to reveal the fine dress beneath. "All dressed up like she thinks she's better than us."

"Bet she's never had to work a day in her life," another added, his voice dripping with disdain.

"Probably thinks she's too good to even look at the likes of us," a third chimed in, his face contorted with malice.

Their words were like daggers, each one striking at my dignity. It wasn't just their words, it was the way they looked at me, as if I were nothing more than a trophy to be displayed, a symbol of their defiance against those they deemed superior.

To them, I was not a person but a prize to be humiliated, a way to assert power in a world that had likely offered them none.

"Let's see how pretty she looks without all that fancy fabric," one of them sneered, reaching for my dress.

Panic surged through me, and I struggled harder, twisting in their grip, but their laughter grew louder, feeding off my fear. The leader stepped forward, his eyes as cold as ice, and seized my chin, forcing me to look at him.

"You should've stayed in your castle, little princess," he hissed, his breath hot against my face. "Out here, you're just another piece of meat."

The weight of the humiliation was crushing, pressing down on me until I felt utterly powerless. Surrounded by their mocking faces, my pleas for mercy were swallowed by the cacophony of their laughter.

Just when I thought I could endure no more, a thunderous voice shattered the cruel laughter that surrounded me.

"Get your hands off my wife!" The command roared through the clearing, silencing the jeering men and freezing their wicked smiles in place.

My head snapped up, and through my tear-blurred vision, I saw Jace standing at the edge of the clearing, his face a mask of rage and determination. He was flanked by Cregan and his men, their weapons drawn and ready.

Jace's eyes locked onto mine, burning with a fury I had never seen before.

In an instant, chaos erupted. Cregan's men surged forward, their swords clashing with those of my captors, who barely had time to react. 

The leader's grip on me slackened as he turned to face the new threat, but it was too late. Cregan's men were relentless, cutting through the bandits with brutal efficiency.

I was dropped to the ground, my legs buckling beneath me as the battle raged on around me. I heard Jace calling my name, his voice filled with desperate urgency. I tried to stand, to reach for him, but my strength had been drained by fear and exhaustion.

Then Jace was beside me, dropping to his knees and pulling me into his arms. He cradled me against his chest as I sobbed uncontrollably. The warmth of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart were my anchors to reality in that moment.

"I'm here, I'm here," Jace murmured, his voice trembling with emotion as he held me close. "I'll never let anyone hurt you again."

I clung to him, my fingers digging into his cloak as if I could melt into him and escape the horror of what had happened. The tears flowed freely now, and I couldn't stop them, nor could I hold back the flood of emotions that had built up since my capture.

Jace stroked my hair, whispering soothing words as I cried into his shoulder. The sounds of battle faded into the background, replaced by the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat and the solidity of his presence.

For a brief, precious moment, the world shrank to just the two of us, and I felt safe again.

As the last of the bandits were subdued, their leader was dragged forward by two of Cregan's men. His defiance had melted away, replaced by fear as he was thrown to the ground at Jace's feet.

Blood trickled from a cut on his forehead, and he looked up at Jace with wide, panicked eyes, no longer the predator but the prey.

Jace's expression hardened, his eyes narrowing as he looked down at the man who had dared to lay a hand on me.

Without a word, he drew his sword, the steel gleaming in the firelight. I could feel the tension in his body, the barely restrained fury trembling in his hands as he gripped the hilt.

"Please..." the leader began to beg, his voice trembling as he realized the gravity of his mistake. "I didn't know who she was... I didn't know..."

His pleas fell on deaf ears. Jace's gaze remained cold and unforgiving, and in that moment, I knew there would be no mercy. 

This man had taken something precious from Jace, my safety, my dignity and Jace was not one to let such a transgression go unpunished.

Without hesitation, he swung his sword, the blade slicing clean through the air. The leader's plea was cut short, his life ending in an instant. Blood splattered the ground, and the clearing fell silent, the weight of what had just happened settling over everyone like a heavy shroud.

Jace stood over the fallen man, his chest heaving with the force of his anger, his sword dripping with blood. 

The conflict in his eyes was evident—the struggle between his need for justice and the horror of taking a life but when he looked back at me, only the fierce protectiveness of a husband who would go to any lengths to keep his wife safe remained.

He sheathed his sword and turned back to me, kneeling once more to gather me in his arms.

"It's over," he whispered, pressing his lips to my forehead. "You're safe now."

I nodded, though my body still trembled with the aftershocks of fear. I clung to him, letting the warmth of his embrace and the steady reassurance of his voice wash over me.

I was safe, I was with Jace, and that was all that mattered.

A/n - Jace's protectiveness levels just went from "'I'll hold your hand' to 'I'll decimate an entire forest for you.'

[caorannn]

AAAUUUUGHHHHH

MHA 10th anniversary color illustration (HQ)

[lunartulips]

𝐴𝐿𝐴𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅 𝐴𝑆 𝐴 𝐵𝑂𝑌𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑁𝐷 { 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆 }

⇣

Very loving lover. To say the least. Probably the best thing that’s ever happened to him since he’s been in hell

Alastor would greet you in the morning with a big smile

“Good morning! It’s absolutely deadly in hell isn’t it?” Or if you walk in and see him eating then he’ll offer you a plate. Even if it’s a dead deer.

“You look well-rested, care for some deer?”

Since he’s the radio demon and feared by many he’ll make sure that you’re protected at all cost. Even bribing Husker to watch over you when he can’t, with booze of course

“Do take care of them I’ll be stepping out for a moment”

“Yeah yeah, got it now go”

Compliments I feel are a must. He’ll say compliments during the day or randomly. Smiling and looking straight at you when he does.

“My, don’t you look breathtaking today-!”

Flirting, probably would or won’t. When he does he’ll be a gentleman when he speaks. Holding your hand and adding a gentle kiss when he’s done, very like him. In a low tone voice to feel flirtatious

“My my, what a darling demon we have here~”

“Acting shy now? How adorable”

Alastor would be very protective and wouldn’t hesitate to tear a few limps off to protect you. Since he’s so gruesome with handling ‘enemies’ he’ll probably distract you from seeing such things with your own eyes. Or hold you close to his chest as he unleashed his wrath on another

“Hm? Oh don’t worry at all-! I’m simply ℒℰᎯᏉℐℕᎶ Ꭿ ℳℰЅЅᎯᎶℰ….”

“Don’t worry, how about some dinner hm? I’ll let you wait inside-!”

Very cute nicknames for you. Like darling, dearest, and honey. Alastor will call out to you using those names to find you, even in front of everyone, had no shame or embarrassment about it

Even outside of the hotel when he takes walks

“Ah-! There you are darling-!”

Oh boy….when this demon is jealous it’s every sinner for themselves. With you he’ll do his best to hold back so he wouldn’t scare or hurt you. Of course everyone else from the hotel will be staring and just watch. Charlie would probably try to calm him down before more heads roll. But Angel Dust would probably edge him on.

“Uh, Alastor? Please calm yourself please?”

“No! Keep going! So them who Y/N’s lover!”

There’ll be lots of blood and destruction when he’s jealous but of course he’ll won’t immediately go to violence when he’s jealous. Alastor can also stay close to you and place a protective hand either on your shoulder or around your waist. And would just give them eyes of death to the demon or person who dares talk to you in front of him

Dates would be very causal. Either meat dinners or hanging out with him listening to the radio

Love Language would be Quality time <3

Walks around the city in the wrath ring or joining him in his recoding studio when he’s on the air. When you work in the Hazbin Hotel he’ll pop in to checkup on you. And, when needed, he’ll help you in any way he can. He’ll make sure that you to have lots of time together both during work hours and when you clock out.

“You look like your struggling with this, allow me my dear-!”

Holding hands will be included with this relationship, along with him smiling a lot both at you and in general. Like the gentlemen he is he’ll make sure that your smiling with him.

“You’re never fully dressed without a smile~”

Alastor would be a very interesting demon to date with. Protective and old fashioned. Always smiling and would hum songs to you when you’re stress

Not only that. He’ll make sure you will avoid the three V’s/Vees. Especially Vox. If that does happen or you accidentally cross paths make sure you have a pair of sunglasses and stay behind a strong building before things get very ugly well quick unless you want to see such horrific scenes

But if that doesn’t happen then all things should be float

𝐴𝐿𝐴𝑆𝑇𝑂𝑅 𝐴𝑆 𝐴 𝐵𝑂𝑌𝐹𝑅𝐼𝐸𝑁𝐷 { 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝐷𝐶𝐴𝑁𝑂𝑁𝑆 }

written by Lunartulips ☾ & ✿

[iomoru]

Good day, I, too have my own Kinich angst request for ya. Could you do one where after Reader dies protecting Kinich, he finds out they'd secretly forged a contract of their own with Ajaw that if they were to lose their life in the process of actively saving Kinich's (and thereby delaying Ajaw from getting his vessel; he'd probably treat the new deal as Reader's "punishment" for doing so and thus agree to it), he takes over THEIR body instead?

The Price of Devotion

A/n: I genuinely love this idea Saturn anon! ♡´･ᴗ･`♡

Genre: Canon Verse, Angst w/ no happy ending, Reader Dies, Gn! Reader, Second Person, Proofread

Summary: After sacrificing your life to protect Kinich, your secret deal with Ajaw comes to light—a contract that, upon your death, would grant Ajaw control over your body instead of Kinich's. As Kinich holds your lifeless form, the cruel reality sets in when Ajaw rises in your place, leaving Kinich devastated by the cost of your devotion.

The weight of your body fell against Kinich's, your breath shallow as you struggled to stay conscious. Blood seeped through your hands where you pressed against your wound, but the pain paled in comparison to the agony in Kinich’s eyes as he held you close. He had been too late—too slow to stop the blade meant for him from finding its way to you instead.

"Why did you do that?" Kinich’s voice trembled, his golden eyes wide with disbelief. "You didn’t have to…I could have—"

"No," you whispered, your voice weak but resolute. "I…couldn’t lose you."

His arms tightened around you, his grip desperate as if holding you closer could stop the inevitable. But the warmth in your body was fading, and you could feel the darkness creeping in. There was no time left.

"I’m not worth this…" Kinich's voice cracked. He had spent so long trying to protect you, to shield you from the weight of the burden he carried as Ajaw’s chosen vessel. And now, you had given up everything for him.

You could barely focus, your senses slipping away, but you could still see the pain written all over his face. You reached up with trembling fingers to brush the side of his cheek, offering a faint, bittersweet smile. He deserved the truth, though you had sworn to keep it secret until this very moment.

"I made…a deal," you murmured, your breath growing fainter with each word.

Kinich's gaze darkened with confusion. "A deal?"

You nodded, your strength waning. "With Ajaw…if I died…protecting you… he’d take my body instead. Not yours."

His eyes widened, horror and disbelief colliding in his expression. "You what? You can't—"

"It was the only way Kinich," you breathed, your voice faltering. "I couldn’t let him take you."

Kinich shook his head furiously, panic overtaking him. "No, no…this can’t happen. I should be the one to pay the price. Not you."

Your heart ached at the desperation in his voice, but it was too late. The terms had already been set. You had given yourself over, knowing the consequences. You had accepted that Ajaw would use you as his vessel, that your body would no longer be your own. But it was a price you had been willing to pay…for Kinich’s sake.

"I’m sorry," you whispered, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. "I just…I couldn’t bear to lose you."

Kinich's grip tightened, his voice breaking as he pleaded, "There has to be another way. There must be something we can do—"

But even as he spoke, you felt it—Ajaw’s presence creeping into the edges of your awareness. The god had been waiting for this moment, for you to fall. You had defied him, delayed him from claiming his vessel, but now he would have you instead.

Kinich’s gaze flickered in panic as he felt the shift too, sensing the change in your energy. He clutched you closer, shaking his head as if trying to deny the inevitable. "Please, don’t leave me…"

Tears slipped down your cheeks as you whispered, "I’ll always…love you."

And with those words, the light in your eyes dimmed, and you slipped away into the void.

Kinich’s scream shattered the silence of the battlefield.

But the horror wasn’t over. Your body, once lifeless in his arms, began to stir. Slowly, unnaturally, your fingers twitched, your chest rising and falling with a breath that wasn’t your own.

Kinich’s blood ran cold as he pulled back, watching in dread as your eyes snapped open—no longer filled with the warmth and love he had known, but with the cold, malevolent gaze of Ajaw.

A slow, wicked smile spread across your—no, Ajaw’s—lips.

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” Ajaw’s voice echoed from your mouth, mocking and cruel. “I must say, I couldn’t have asked for a better vessel.”

Kinich’s heart shattered as he stared at the hollow shell of the person he loved.

This wasn’t you anymore. This was the price of your devotion—the cost of saving him. And now, as Ajaw gazed at him with your eyes, Kinich realized the bitter truth:

You were gone. Forever.

A/n: I seriously love angst with no happy ending

© ²⁰²⁴ ɪᴏᴍᴏʀᴜ ✰ do not repost, translate, plagiarize, use to train ai, or share my work on other social media platforms.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

more of jessie lying wetly

chapter one

chapter two

cool art by @hamandeggbun

and brand new shiny chapter three. on god I am not allowed to post another one until I finish writing chapter ten.

The interior decor of One-Eyed Polly’s had changed precious little since the last time Jessie saw it, although the floors were a little more scratched up and the felt on the pool table had acquired some upsetting new stains. The only thing that had changed was the enormous NO SMOKING sign on the back wall, right where everyone could see it. 

The second she stepped inside of the bar the universe conspired to give her the entrance of a stranger blowing into town in an old Western, with the jukebox pausing between songs and conversation hitting a lull just as she stepped on a creaky floorboard, drawing all eyes to herself. She flashed an ice cold Frostbite smile, tossed her hair, and wished desperately that she’d worn her costume. It would make her look like a total douchebag, sure, but it would also remind everyone she was dangerous.  

Jessie strode back to the bar like it was a catwalk anyway, but the whispers and mutters that followed her were not promising.

“Still owes me twenty dollars.”

“Did I tell you she blocked me?”

“I thought she got arrested.”

“What did Sub-Zero say?”

Okay. Okay. Not awesome, but it was fine. They could say anything they wanted about her, but how many of these washouts and wannabes would actually try anything? None of them. They didn’t know that she was unarmed and floundering without her brother. She hadn’t worn her costume because she didn’t need to; her reputation was still strong enough to protect her. Not to mention she wanted all of these dweebs to see her wearing jeans that cost more than their mortgage payments and choke on the jealousy.

Maudie was behind the bar, grayer and butcher than ever. Her face was lined now, enough that it gave Jessie pause. Was her godmother getting old now? When did that happen?

Not that Maud was letting it soften her up at all. She raised a bushy brow at Jessie by way of greeting and launched right into putting her through the wringer. “Well, well. Look at that. A real-deal supervillain graces us with her presence. Thank you for deigning to descend from the gravy train, your highness.” 

“Aww, Maudie, come on. Don’t be like that, it’s my birthday.”

“As if I don’t know. Did you get your card?”

“Did you send one?”

Maud rolled her eyes, hard. “Of course I sent one. What kind of schmuck do you take me for?”

Of course she wouldn’t know; Jessie hadn’t checked her mailbox in at least a week. 

She realized, with despair, that there were tears crowding up around the edges of her eyes, little pinpricks begging to be let loose. When had she gotten so sappy? She wasn’t even most excited about the crisp fifty dollar bill that Maudie always tucked inside of her cards, although that was a relief. It was mostly that someone had even remembered she existed and wanted to do something nice for her that was really turning her into goo. 

“Well, I appreciate it,” she said, choking down her onslaught of emotions. Maudie would hate her making a scene like that; she never knew what to do when people cried. “But, hey, I’m not here to talk about me. How are you doing? Are you feeling alright?”

“The hell do you mean, do I feel alright?”

“Well, you always said that you’d only make people stop smoking in here over your dead body. And now nobody’s smoking, so I figure you must have gotten real close to having a dead body.”

Maudie snorted. “We had a scare last year. Doctor thought he had something, turned out not to be serious. But you know how the dames are. Next thing I know, nobody’s allowed to smoke in here and I’m getting yelled at if I don’t eat vegetables and go for a fuckin’ walking every morning.”

She shook her head, fondly exasperated. The dames were the two iron-tongued femmes Maudie had been in a relationship with for decades, largely considered to be the real masterminds behind One-Eyed Polly’s. According to Maudie, they only kept her around to look pretty and serve the drinks.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jessie demanded. “We could have helped with the bills, or I could have brought over soup. Something.”

“I didn’t want to bother you, kid. Your brother made it pretty clear that you were busy.” And then, before Jessie could apologize or otherwise risk making things sentimental, Maudie cleared her throat sharply. “You want a drink, or what? First round’s free for the birthday girl.”

“Yeah? Let’s do a straight whiskey and a burger,” Jessie said, knowing damn well that she’d be drinking nothing but dirt cheap beer for the rest of the night. “Do the fries still come with that, or is it extra?”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell when I charge people extra for a side of fries. That shit comes with the burger,” Maud said gravely.

There were a lot of things that could stand to be improved about One-Eyed Polly’s, but the food was not one of them. So what if the fry cook telepathically talked with rats? He could work a grill. The basket that arrived in front of Jessie contained a beautifully constructed medium rare burger packing the exact correct amount of grease, surrounded by steak fries that had been seasoned to absolute perfection. Pardon Jessie while she drooled a little bit. 

“Hey, Maudie,” she said, half a burger later. “You still have Joney’s van?”

Her godmother raised an eyebrow a fraction of an inch, which for Maud was an expression of profound skepticism. “I’d love to know how the hell you think I could’ve lost it.”

“No no, that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to see if I could grab it from you.”

“Can’t get your car back from Voltzz, huh?”

“Hmm?” Jessie asked, playing dumb.

“Do not try the bimbo act on me, Jessica Jolene. You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“God. How did you even hear about that?”

“Are you kidding? I hear about everything in here. We had a bunch of schlubs in here doing shots at noon because they thought Ricochet dragged you off for good.”

“Okay, tacky.” Jessie licked her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry despite an abundance of gloss. “Maudie, can I ask you a question? It seems like I’m maybe, um, not very popular around here.”

Maud stared her down with eyes like chisels. “That’s not a question.”

“You know what I mean!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, kiddo. They hate your guts.”

“Maudie!”

Jessie’s complaining was cut short by a sweaty, nervous-looking man appearing from the kitchen and hurrying to Maudie’s side. He shot Jessie a look that could really only be described as distrustful, then leaned in close to deliver his message to Maud. She shrugged him away almost before he finished speaking, peeved by his damp proximity.

“So get her shift covered. Why do you need my permission for that? Call Billy. Or, hell, see if Tash can make it in. She’s always dying for extra shifts. Tell Jordan I’ll come sort her out in a minute and then get your ass back out here to cover the bar. The dishes can wait.”

Maudie sighed and turned back to Jessie as her dishwasher departed, shaking her head. She suddenly looked about a hundred years old. “Kid, I miss the days when the worst I had to deal with was bartenders coming in drunk.”

“What happened?”

“One of my girls, Jordan. She’s got that fucking, what do they call it? Void pox? She kept going see-through when she came in but she swore she’d be fine. Except she’s not fine, she started getting these little cartoon demons popping out of her head. Pretty harmless, only about this big, but if I never have to kill another one with a broom it’ll be too soon. Anyway, I had her sitting down in the back, but now she’s starting to make things levitate and I can’t have that. I need to find her a ride home.”

“Could I come see her?” Jessie asked with, in hindsight, way too much enthusiasm.

Her godmother hit her with a look that was genuinely withering. “You can keep your ass right here and be nice to Nikesh while he tends the bar. And you can leave Jordan alone. It’s a 24-hour bug, she’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”

“I know that!”

“So drop it, then! For once in your life, don’t get so pushy about this superhero shit.”

Maud ducked back into the kitchen on that deeply unencouraging note, sending poor Nikesh back out to hold down the bar in her stead. He studiously avoided Jessie’s gaze when she asked him how his night was going, spitting out single syllable answers until she gave up and asked for a hard cider, which he provided without once actually turning his face in her direction. Jessie dropped a five in the tip jar anyway, because she believed very firmly that you were supposed to tip generously unless the waiter had purposefully set you on fire and maybe even then. Running through the last of your money in the entire world was no excuse to be a lousy customer.

The problem being, of course, that she had hoped this would be a case of spending money to make money. She’d shell out a little for a night at One-Eyed Polly’s, reestablish herself as a villain of the people, and announce that she was hiring to thunderous applause. Henchpeople out the door, heaps of cash secured, the money that she’d pissed away on bottom shelf booze now a worthwhile investment. 

Unfortunately, all of that had depended on there being someone, anyone, left in town who didn’t hate her guts.

“Hey, Nikesh? Do you like working here?”

“It’s a living,” he said, still looking down. 

“If I offered to pay you, like, five times what you’re making right now, would you work for me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Ten times?” 

He actually looked at her for a fleeting second, his gaze touching off hers for just a moment. Jessie was vomitously aware that there was something that looked a lot like pity in his face. “Look, lady. It’s not about the money. It’s about not wanting to get my ass kicked.”

“Jesus Christ. Am I really that bad for business?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Is that why you won’t even look at me?”

“Yeah. You understand. Can’t look like we’re getting friendly.”

“Respect. You gotta look out for number one, Nikesh. I can throw a drink on you, if you want.”

“Yeah? That might be good, actually. We could make people think I said something really nasty to you. That could actually be great for my rep.”

Jessie groaned, resting her face in her hands. This was going to be an absolute non-starter. Polly’s was the biggest rat-hole in town; everyone knew that this was a place where people would turn a blind eye to almost anything. Everyone put aside their beef here, because the place would never function if they didn’t and no one wanted to be the asshole who ruined the only functioning villain bar in town. If a bartender was too scared to even look at her directly, Jessie’s reputation must be worse than dirt.

Why? Because of last night’s embarrassing little tantrum? Couldn’t be it. Nobody complained about the time Voltzz snorted bath salts and went on a rampage, or when Incinerator got drunk and started taking potshots at cop cars. Hell, if anything they’d both gotten more popular after that. Jonas might sneer at the lack of precision and control, but Jessie had tried to tell him a thousand times that people liked to see a supervillain go a little off the rails. It was aspirational, right? It let people imagine what they might do, if they had the power to really cut loose.

Why was she different? Sure, people hated to see a woman having fun, but that couldn’t possibly explain all of it. Maudie could probably explain it, whenever she finished mopping up the poor sap with the void pox. Maudie heard about everything. 

In the meantime, she might as well try to make the most of her evening. If she wasn’t going to be making new friends, she could at least have a little fun. Who cared about her bank account? If she was screwed, she might as well go out with a splash. 

“Nikesh? Open me up a tab. It’s my birthday and I want shots.”

***

Jessie Chilton was not a lightweight. Despite spending most of her early life watching her father get eaten alive by booze she had an exceedingly friendly relationship with alcohol, and could usually hold her drinks pretty well. Jonas had never touched the stuff, erring hard on the side of caution, but Jessie knew that she could stop any time she wanted.

Her miserable 26th birthday was not that time. That night she drank like the world was going to end, because it very possibly was. Her world, at least, and what else was she supposed to worry about? She knew damn well the scope of what she could be held responsible for, and presently it was mostly downing as much tequila as she could.

Which meant she ended up in the bathroom, eventually, because all of that liquid had to go somewhere, and in the time-honored tradition of wasted girls everywhere she got weird about it. While Jessie sat in the cramped and questionably-lit stall she started thinking about how she’d very nearly been born in this very room and what a miserably inauspicious start that was, and how perhaps she should have known that her life was always doomed to go down the toilet despite a decade or so of delusionally believing that she might be meant for something better. She wished that she had some friends to cry to, and briefly regretted the loss of Whirligig. Getting sloppy drunk and crying in club bathrooms together had been about the only thing that friendship was good for, but sometimes that was all she needed it to be. 

In the absence of anywhere else to turn Jessie called the person who had almost always been there for her, until he spectacularly wasn’t.

Hey, Joney. It’s your favorite sister. And I know what you’re thinking: ‘Jessie, you’re my only sister, why are you doing exposition like a lunatic?’ Well, it’s because you haven’t been acting like I’m your favorite sister lately, or like you even know me, so I figured maybe you needed the reminder.

Did you even notice it’s my birthday? You’ve never forgotten it in my entire life. But you know who remembered? Uncle Ray. And Maud. And that’s fucking it. And Ricochet was soooOOOOOOoooo mean to me this morning. Like, you wouldn’t believe. She’s getting way too cocky, if you ask me. You should come back and kick her ass into orbit. Remind her who’s boss around here.

You should come back in general, actually. I miss you. But I’m also mad at you. It’s, like, a real dick move to take off and not even leave me with any money. I mean, I had money. Past-tense. But it’s gone now. I could have, like, I could have definitely spent it better. Smarter? I got these really stupid expensive boots with real crystals on them and then when I tried to return them they said I couldn’t because there was a scuff on the toe, which is like… whatever. I’m wearing them right now even though they’re way too fancy for Polly’s. Might as well get my money’s worth.

But I also just don’t have anything. Like, where’s the bank account? Where is the bank account, Jonas? I earned half that money, so why can’t I… I mean, you literally never told me how to get into it. To my money. Which I guess in hindsight was, like, I should have had a problem with that way sooner, but you made it sound extremely reasonable! And now I’m this close to Uncle Ray throwing me out on my ass, because I couldn’t pay the May rent and I can’t pay the June rent, either, at the rate things are going. I opened a tab at Polly’s and I don’t have enough to pay it, so now Maudie’s going to be mad at me, I think. I don’t know, I’m not even actually sure how a tab works. Isn't that stupid? I'm, like, so mad at myself lately got how much stuff I don't know.

Everybody’s mad at me.

And you won’t even call me back, and I can’t even afford toilet paper, so that’s, like, a lot. And I’m not handling it well. And I’m drank as a skank at Polly’s, in case you couldn’t tell, so go ahead and get your panties twisted up about that. I’m fucking spiraling, buddy. I’m in my fucking up era out here.

So. You should come home.

Or at least tell me where you are or what you’re doing or why you left, okay? Because I hate no knowing that. We’re supposed to tell each other things. And I’m scared about what’s going to happen if you’re gone much longer because, like, everything is going wrong. And I think you might have really left me screwed here, okay? Which is crazy, because it was supposed to be you and me against the world, but I’m not fucking seeing it right now. 

By this point Jessie was crying and snotting pretty hard, absorbed enough in her own agonies that she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone in the bathroom until someone rapped lightly on the door of her stall and almost scared her shitless.

“Hey. You okay in there?”

It was not the voice of someone particularly warm and fuzzy or confident about checking in on a stranger, which actually made it a little sweeter that they’d bothered.

“I’m fine,” Jessie lied, wetly. “I’m just, like, I’m on the phone.”

“Yeah, I can hear that.” Whoever they were, they were sorely tempted to leave it at that and go back to minding their own business. Jessie could tell. Outside the stall, a pair of tennis shoes that had been worn damn near to dust rocked back and forth, weighing the options. “I just wanted to say that they’re not worth it. Whoever’s making you feel this bad, you shouldn't waste your time on them.”

“Okay,” Jessie said. And then, into the message she was still leaving for her brother: “I have to go, a nice girl in this bathroom says you’re not worth it. Please call me, love you, bye.”

“Great,” the stranger said dryly. “Crushed it.” Their beaten-in shoes scuffed away, back over to the sinks. Had Jessie missed an entire other person pissing next to her? God, that was embarrassing.

She wadded up some genuinely horrific single ply toilet paper and dabbed at her face, hoping she didn’t look too atrocious. All of her makeup was waterproof, which had to count for something. “Hey, thank you for that. I really needed someone to snap me out of it. I was being so pathetic.”

“Whatever,” said the voice by the sinks. “Don’t beat yourself up. I’ve been there, I get it.”

Jessie’s heart was getting squeezed around like one of those awful tubes full of goo and glitter and little plastic animals, the kind that everyone used to make jerk off motions. Who was this? Would they still be so nice to her if they knew who she was? What were the odds she could salvage a single actual friend out of this wretched garbage fire of a day? It didn’t even have to be a lifelong bestie, just someone she could have a few drinks with. 

“My name is Jessie,” she said hesitantly.

She heard her new friend sigh. “I’m Tash.”

“Do you come here often? I’m not asking that in the pervert way, I’m just curious if you’re, like, a regular.”

“I work here,” Tash said, with as much contempt as anyone had ever had for their workplace.

“Oh. Do you like it?”

“Sucks shit. But, you know. You do what you’ve got to do.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Are you okay in there? I’m gonna get my ass reamed if I let somebody drown in the toilet.”

“No, I’m okay. I’m just, you know.” Which was a fucking nothing explanation, but Jessie’s voice was still damp and wavering enough that it presumably got the point across. “I need a moment to get it together.”

“I hear that,” Tash said. “I usually use the walk-in when I need a second.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s not very big, but it’s quiet. And the cold kind of helps pull me together, I guess. Stay focused.” She cleared her throat again. “Sorry to dump that on you.”

“No, that’s okay. It makes sense,” said Jessie, noted cold enjoyer. “Do you keep anything fun in there? Maud’s never let me see it.”

“You know Maud?”

“Yeah, since I was a kid. Isn’t she the best?”

“She’s a real son of a bitch. But she's the only boss I’ve ever believed when she says she gives a shit about me, though.”

“Sounds like Maudie,” Jessie agreed fondly. “Anyway, what’s in the walk-in?”

“Fucking nothing exciting. Burger patties, mostly. I don’t know. Like I said, not a lot of room.”

“Plenty of room for you.”

“Yeah, every time I have a total breakdown at work.”

“Does that happen a lot? No judgment, obviously. Pot .”

“I don’t know.” Tash sighed. “More often than you’d hope. Which is never, obviously. We don’t have to talk about this.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“What?”

“Your favorite color,” Jessie insisted. “I love asking people that. Nobody ever cares after you turn, like, twelve, right? But I care. And it’s a lot more chill than talking about, you know. Our favorite places to completely freak out in a shithole bar.”

“Okay. Sure,” Tash said. Everything about the strain in her voice suggested she was not naturally inclined towards whimsy, but at least she was making the effort to play along. “Will you assume I have clinical depression if I say gray?”

“Yes.”

“Well, joke’s on me, because I love gray and I do have clinical depression. But purple is also good. I like purple.”

“What shade? Eggplant? Periwinkle?”

“Just a nice, medium purple, I guess. Like, the platonic ideal of purple.”

Jessie had no idea what a platonic ideal was or why anyone would ever need to specify that they weren't trying to have sex with a color, but she was sitting on her stupid little toilet nodding like an idiot anyway because it felt so good to be making a connection with someone. “I dig that. Purple is good.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, cerulean for sure. With sparkles, ideally.”

“That’s blue, right?”

“Yeah. My jacket is actually, like, that exact color, I can show you.” Jessie sniffled tremendously, getting shakily to her feet and pleased to discover that she was feeling much more sober than when she’d wandered into the bathroom some time ago. And now look at her! Practically having a whole meet cute. What a turn around on the evening. “Okay, I’m coming out now. Don’t gag if my makeup’s a mess, I’m going to fix it.”

She tossed her hair and stepped out of the stall, at which point several things happened to her in rapid succession.

Tash was standing underneath one of the humming, flickering lights that barely managed to illuminate the dark cave of the ladies’ room. She struck a slim figure, drowning in a huge hoodie with two skinny black-clad legs sticking out like a cartoon character. She was wiping down the sinks but turned as Jessie emerged, the fuzzy light illuminating her from the back like a bargain bin halo.

The first thing Jessie noticed was that Tash was a lot shorter than she had been expecting.

The second was that Tash had beautiful eyes. 

The third was that those beautiful eyes and indeed her entire face were curdling up in horror as recognition set in.

“What the fuck,” she said. “Frostbite?”

The recognition and reaction alone weren’t surprising, given the colossal combined levels of notoriety and bad PR Jessie was currently enjoying. The part that nearly knocked her on her ass was that recognized Tash back.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, overjoyed and utterly failing to read the room. “Night Noir? Holy shit, girlie, I thought you were dead!”

[nolongerapileofashprobably]

The sheer development of botw/totk zelink…

Zelda didn’t originally like Link. She outright avoided him at all costs and wasn’t particularly nice to him. And despite her own efforts, Link’s own determination and devotion to his role finally wore her down to the point where she realized how wrong she had judged him.

Link was a prodigy, he had the sword that would seal the darkness already (had since he was a mere preteen) and was known for besting adults in duels as a literal child. She was born with powers she couldn’t unlock despite all the effort she put in. She thought he was simply handed his fortunes in life with no consequences, while she struggled daily to uphold her father’s expectations for her and neglect her own hobbies.

But when Link steadfastly protected her in a place she had specifically gone to in order to escape him, she sees the truth behind it all. Link is determined. He never backs down from a fight. He’s also reckless and she understands this as she chastises him and worries over his well-being. He’s knowledgeable about horses and has good advice, always willing to share it when someone (aka Zelda) needs to hear it. She learns bit by bit about Link until she outright questions why he doesn’t talk much. And he genuinely hesitates but decides that he can share this with her. She’s the only one he ever has. Because she asked.

And he tells her. The sword on his back brings a great responsibility and massive burden to bare. He feels the need to be strong and to be the stoic perfect knight to take on the role everyone expects him to play.

They become much closer after this and there’s multiple times we see Link actually neglect his role as her protector in order to just be there for Zelda as her friend. Once in the spring memory where he turns after Zelda berated her inability to awaken her power and the second when they’re literally running away from murder bots and he doesn’t force her to continue when she slips but rather kneels, listens, and comforts her.

And to find out that Zelda’s love for Link is the reason she awakened her powers and that it’s canonically proven through Kass’ song? Wow. And that doesn’t even BEGIN their story and how it ends in totk.

In botw, the Japanese original logs are written by Link himself and it’s revealed that one of his motivators in saving Zelda was to see her smile once again. Just. Remember that.

Of course the game end and we do see Link and Zelda planning on traveling to investigate Vah Ruta. And we find out in ToTK that the two are inseparable, so much so that without Zelda by his side no one recognizes Link beyond the characters that genuinely know him through the story.

They’ve traveled across Hyrule and helped numerous people, no matter what it was. They live together in Hateno, where they helped to build a school and even teach the kids there. They founded expedition and research teams, reformed a guard, and even found the time to ‘vacation’ at Lurelin where they would go up to Lover’s Pond in the evening.

Zelda and Link create a home out of Hyrule. It’s no longer a desolate, sparingly populated land. It’s being reformed. It’s being cared for. It’s their home. They lost theirs 100years prior but they’ve steadily worked to make it a home once again. They were healing. Together.

So losing Zelda again, being unable to reach her, and also losing his sword. . . It’s a lot. But the thing he knows he must do— Find Princess Zelda. Despite knowing exactly where Zelda is after you finish the Tears of the Dragon Quest, Link does not complete it. Because he hasn’t found his Zelda. The one that rambles on about everything and gets excited about history and new discoveries. The one that tried to make him eat a frog (albeit she was on to something). She isn’t home.

Meanwhile Zelda. . . Zelda goes on about Link, enough for Sonia to know all about him and his tendency to worry over Zelda’s well-being. And then we have memory eight that has Zelda practically gushing about him to her pseudo-parents and promptly being teased for it. Then, as Zelda finally understands why she is in the past, she ensures Link has everything he could need in order to win. Because to her, Link and Hyrule surviving is a must. She sacrifices herself to ensure that.

And yet. . . Link is determined to bring her back. Hyrule won’t be the home they’ve worked so hard to make it so without her. He can’t quit until they find a way to revert her back. So when Rauru and Sonia channel their power through Link, it takes a moment for him to understand by when he does… WHOOH boy does the determination SHINE in his eyes.

And he gets her back. He reaches her. Protects her just as she did for him in the form of restoring the Master Sword. And she immediately rambles.

We don’t get to see Link’s reaction to any of this. But then we end with “Link, I’m home” and a SMILE. Because that’s all Link wants. For Zelda to be safe and smiling.

Ultimately, they just want to be home. And home is with the other.

[thepenguinweeb]

hi! Uh I saw your requests are open, could I request something for Solo Leveling?

Jinwoo × gn! timid childhood friend, who's a healer. Like they always heal him after a raid and will scold him when he's being stupid and neglecting himself, even though they also neglect themselves secretly (think soft and sweet yet actually depressed as hell)

Then as Jinwoo gets stronger, reader begins to let themselves slowly drift away from Jinwoo since "he's better off without them (aka reader)". When Jinwoo finally finds them again, he realizes how truely delicate reader is, how soft and cozy and cute they are. EVEN WORSE if he finds out readers mental health was just as bad as his when he was E-Rank, even in a worst state from past experiences. (Think constantly buzzing like a bee and 4 seconds from a breakdown)

(Reader is essencially "soft,sleepy and delicate, despite witnessing and enduring horrors beyond anyone's comprehension.)

(Bonus if it makes Jinwoo go MUST PROTECT AT ALL COSTS)

((I hope this is okay. Thank you if you decide to do the request. If not, it's okay,,))

`` You shouldn't just heal others. Take care of yourself, too. ``

[ ♡ Jinwoo x gn!timid!healer!reader ]

[ ♡ You've known Jinwoo ever since you were both small children. You promised that no matter what, you'd always protect each other. But after an incident at one of the dungeons he was sent to, you think it's best if you don't stand in his way. ]

[ Requested by : @shiromay <3 ]

[ Notes : I know it's a crime but I haven't read the Solo Leveling novel yet ;-; I'm planning to real soon!! But if I get anything wrong uhh sorry :( ]

[ TRIGGER WARNING : multiple mentions of self-harm ]

"Catch it, Jinwoo!"

Your small voice called out to the boy as you threw a ball at him. It was always your favourite game to play with him, even if he wasn't great at it.

..As if to prove that point, the ball hit him right in the head and he stumbled to the ground easily.

You hurried over with a worried expression. You could see a few tears in his eyes, then you noticed the bleeding cuts on his knee.

"I.. I'm sorry, I didn't.. mean to.." you mumbled an apology, and to your surprise, he responded with a giggle.

"It's okay. I should have caught it."

He tried to get up, but you stopped him before he could. As he looked at you trough a confused expression, you pulled out a few bandaids from your pockets.

Soon, his knees were covered with pretty pink bandaids which definitely didn't suit him, but you both seemed to think it was amazing.

"Thanks, [Y/N], you're amazing," he complimented, which earned an awkward smile from you.

"When we grow up, I'll protect you from all the monsters," he went on, his eyes shining with wonder. "I'll be the strongest person you've ever seen!"

You giggled and nodded eagerly. "I'll protect you, too! I'll put bandaids on all your wounds and always make sure you're alright!"

You looked each other in the eyes, then said at once,

"I promise!"

You tapped your foot impatiently against the ground as you waited for Jinwoo and his party to finish their raid. You were gonna pick him up - despite him insisting you didn't need to - and, of course, heal him. It would be a miracle if you didn't need to.

With every passing moment, your anxiety became worse. What if Jinwoo didn't come back? What if he died during the raid? What if you could never see him again?

Finally, after what felt like hours, the party appeared with big smiles on every member's face. You scanned the crowd and a relieved sigh escaped your lips when you saw Jinwoo behind them.

Then you sighed again at how battered up he looked. Multiple scratches on his face, bleeding wounds on his leg, one of his arms, a few big bruises and a claw mark on his chest, where his shirt had been torn. Did they not have a proper healer?

"Jinwoo!" You called out. The man noticed you immediately and ran toward you with a smile.

"Hi, [Y/N]," He greeted you in an innocent tone, as if unaware of the frown deepening on your face with every second you spent staring at his wounds.

You shook your head and signaled for him to sit down so you could examine him more. After you finished with that, you hovered your hands over his wounds and used your healing.

"You should be more careful.." you mumbled softly. "This isn't good for you."

"I know, I'm sorry," Jinwoo said while scratching the back of his head. You simply sighed and continued to do your work until you were done, and he was fully healed.

The man stood up with a smile and gave you an appreciative nod. "Thank you, [Y/N]," he said. "You're amazing."

Your expression softened at his compliment. You looked down at the ground and muttered out a 'no problem'.

"I'll take you home.." you said, turning and beginning to walk away. Jinwoo soon followed you too.

Since Jinwoo was released from the hospital, you'd been seeing him a lot less. You visited him fairly frequently while he was recovering, but during those visits you noticed how much he'd changed. You could tell he was becoming stronger, and so, you decided it would be best if you didn't stand in the way of his plans.

You only went to raids which you knew he wouldn't be apart of. You rarely responded to his text messages or calls. But with this, your mental health had started worsening too.

It was a challenge to wake up and get out of bed every day. In all the raids you went to, you did your best to heal everyone, but you could care less about your own health. Who would care if I died, anyway?

You started wearing hoodies and more covering clothing to hide the self-inflicted wounds on you. You could have healed them, but you didn't think you were deserving of it.

The hunters who knew you most noticed this too.

"You okay, [Y/N]? You're usually not this gloomy."

But others just shook it off, since you were always the quiet type.

Today's raid, however, came with an unexpected surprise.

"Jinwoo?" Your eyes widened upon seeing the man in front of you. Not only for how much he'd changed, but just his mere presence.

He nodded, a small smile on his face. "I didn't expect to see you here. It's been a while. How have you been?"

You looked down at the ground, wondering what to say. You quickly decided to just.. lie.

"Fine," you muttered. "But really, what are you doing in a raid for an E-rank dungeon? I thought you moved on to better ones.."

He shrugged. "Just felt like it," he responded, but you could tell he wasn't telling the full truth. Nevertheless, you didn't want to question him about it.

"We're going in, come on, you two!"

The raid proved to be very successful. You could now see with your own eyes how much Jinwoo had improved, and you were amazed. He was so much stronger, and, most importantly, you didn't even need to heal him at all.

"That was nice," he said after you'd come out. "I missed doing raids with you."

You forced a smile on your face and nodded. "Y-Yeah.. it was nice to see you again."

Silence lingered between the two of you for a bit, before Jinwoo decided to break it.

"I'll walk you home," he told you. Despite it sounding like an offer, it was more of a statement. After a few moments of thinking, you reluctantly agreed.

The whole walk was pretty calm. You caught up with each other trough some small talk, but most of the time was spent in silence, the two of you observing the city.

Thankfully, it didn't take long to arrive at your house.

"Thanks for coming with me, Jinwoo," you thanked him with a soft smile. "I'll be out of your way now. See you-"

"Wait."

Before you could turn and get inside, he grabbed your wrist to stop you. His grip wasn't hard, but it was still painful to the fresh cuts on them.

Jinwoo could tell something was off when you hissed in pain at his touch.

"Are you alright, [Y/N]?" He asked, his voice softer than usual. "You've been acting weird this whole time. Is there something wrong?"

You looked down at the ground, desperately trying to come up with excuses. You felt him putting a comforting hand on your shoulder, and you froze up.

"You're not okay," he pointed out. "Please, you don't have to talk about it, but just tell me.. did you do that to yourself?"

He nodded at your wrists, which left you wondering how he knew. Maybe you weren't that good at hiding it, after all.

Too shaken to say anything, you just gave him a weak nod. You could see a frown form on his face.

"This isn't right. You shouldn't do this to yourself." He sighed. "You shouldn't just heal others. Take care of yourself, too. Please."

Tears formed in your eyes upon hearing his words. "I..." you tried to form a sentence through the choked sobs. "I'll try.. it's just so... hard..."

"I know," he said, pulling you in for a hug. "But I'll be there with you. Like we promised each other.."

A/N : oh my GOD did this turn out longer than I expected. Sorry lol I don't usually write so much but I wanted to do as much as I could! This is my first request, so yippee! And I have 2 more in my inbox left, so I appreciate yall sharing your wonderful ideas with me to satiate my hunger for inspiration :3

Dividers by @/rookthorneartistry, ty!!

[xxmandaveexx]

It's always the innocent looking ones too, huh? 😏

I meeeeean....

WHAT 👀

Austin went from "Yes sir, I'll have her home by 11."

to "She calls me Daddy too."

[hederasgarden]

Sins of the Father - Part 2

Summary: When the Greens win the Dance of the Dragons, your father must answer for his support of Rhaenyra. (AU) Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Lady!Reader (house unspecified) W/C: 1.3K Rating: Mature, 18+ only. AU, forced/arranged marriage and reference to canon level violence. Future chapters will be explicit.  A/N: Thank you to @mythic-rose for beta’ing! The fantastically talented @writercole created the beautiful graphic! 

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Part 1 | House of the Dragon Masterlist

After your audience with the Alicent, you and your father are escorted to accommodations in Maegor's holdfast. Both rooms are opulent and luxurious, befitting of your station but you see them for what they truly are. A gilded cage that will be your home for the next two months until you’re wed to Prince Aemond. 

Once the guards leave, your father speaks, his hushed voice vibrating with anger. “I never should have brought you here. When they asked for me to bring my heir I did not ever consider…”

“You could not have known they wanted more than your coin,” you assure, reaching for him. “We knew there would be a cost to pay for supporting Rhaenyra. My brother paid with his life. Marriage pales in comparison. The rest of the family will be safe.”

“Aemond is a monster. At best a Kinslayer,” he hisses. You raise your hands to quiet him, aware of the two guards outside the door. 

“Father, please….”

He deflates at your words. “I wanted better for you. A gentle, honorable husband to protect and care for you as you deserve.”

He pulls you into his chest to press a kiss to your brow. A strong wave of emotion climbs up your throat  Even as your eyes sting, you force your tears not to fall. Grief has made your father wild and you worry what he might do if you showed him the depths of your fear.  All you can do is wrap your arms around his middle, taking comfort in his familiarity. Soon he will be gone and you will be alone in a den of dragons. 

“It is done,” you say finally, covertly swiping at the dampness on your lashes when you pull away. You clear your throat and steady your voice. “I will write a letter to mother and my sisters for you to bring home. Yo wi’ll need a list of my personal effects to bring back too.”

“Even now, you are thinking ahead,” he says, cupping your face. He carries so much love in his expression it hurts. “Any future correspondence will be monitored.” 

“It will. I think we should prepare for the chance…” you begin, only to trail off when you hear the doors open.

Otto Hightower sweeps, the golden highlights woven into his green robes catching in the candlelight. Behind him trails Prince Aemond like a dark shadow. He stops at the threshold of your room, hands clasped behind his back. 

“Pardon our interruption,” the Hand begins with that same false smile Alicent wore earlier. “Prince Aemond has kindly offered to show you the Red Keep while I speak with your father.“

“That is kind of him,” you acknowledge. 

“If there are important matters to discuss, my daughter should be present,” your father says.

“Oh, it is only the matter of the dowry and a few other issues she need not concern herself with,” he tells your father with a dismissive wave.

“I am my father’s heir.” Otto shifts his attention to you with a raised brow and you know then that you’ve spoken too harshly. “It is only that I wish to ensure everything with the betrothal goes smoothly,” you add hurriedly with a demure smile. 

“Such dedication,” the Hand praises. “Dutiful daughters make for obedient wives,” he notes, looking meaningfully at you.  

There is no mistaking the subtle message underneath the compliment he gives you. A reminder of your place.

“You are kind to say, Lord Hand.” 

You drop your gaze and wait until your father touches your shoulder. When you look up through your lashes, you’re surprised to see Aemond mere inches from you. 

He offers you his hand, palm rough against your soft skin. As you walk, Aemond guides your hand to rest on his bicep and pulls you closer to his body. You glance back behind, relieved to see an older Septa fall in step behind you at a respectable distance. Aemond follows your gaze with a smirk that you suspect might be part of his natural expression. 

"Tell me," he begins as you walk together, "do you agree with my grandsire's assessment that a wife should be dutiful and obedient?" 

The directness of his question surprises you. 

“The seven teach us there are many virtues a good wife should possess,” you respond carefully, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction to your words. You’re unsurprised to find him watching you closely. It’s unnerving to be the sole focus of his sharp attention. “I think the more important question is what virtues do you desire in a wife, Prince Aemond?”

“Obedience is a desired attribute in hounds, not a wife," he reveals. "I am more interested in loyalty.”

Fear coils in your belly in response to his words, a cold knot that tightens with every step you take beside him. Loyalty was a demand that cut deeper than obedience, especially with your own family’s fidelity in question. 

“It is an admirable trait,” you agree, choosing your words with care. Your father’s gold could only ease so much doubt. They would always remember that your family chose Rhaenyra over them. No pretty words you might spin for Aemond would change that. 

“I have heard dragons are loyal creatures,” you add, hoping to direct his attention to a less volatile topic. “They say you ride the largest one that ever lived.”

“Her name is Vhagar.” 

“A dragon worthy of a prince,” you reply. That comment earns you a quick look you can’t quite decipher. Then Aemond hmms, returning his attention ahead. “Where are we headed?”

“The gardens. My sister is fond of them. Or perhaps we can see the new tapestries my mother had made in Essos.”

“Oh,” you reply, quick to hide your disappointment. You suspected most women would have found a stroll through the beautiful flowers with a Prince romantic, but there were other parts of the keep you were keen to explore.“I have heard the gardens of the keep are unmatched, even compared to the Reach.”

A hint of your true feeling must show because Aemond looks curiously at you. “You wish to see something else?"

“No, my prince,” you murmur, gaze downcast. “The gardens sound lovely.” 

Aemond stops abruptly, stepping in front of you.

“Do not lie,” he hisses, grasping your chin and forcing you to meet his gaze. His long fingers span the length of your jaw and an anxious sort of energy skitters down your spine at the look on his face. “You may spin pretty words to tell others what they want to hear, but never me.” 

You search frantically for the right words to appease him or redirect his attention. In your experience, men wanted you to be agreeable, deferring to their desires and whims. “Forgive me your grace,” you stutter. “I promise to be forthright in the future when asked for my opinion.”

He watches for one long, agonizing moment, his one-eyed gaze searching for something beneath the surface. It isn’t until the Septa behind you coughs politely that Aemond’s attention leaves you. The look he offers her is less-than-kind.

“Now,” he says softly, his focus once more on you, “what do you wish to see?”

There is nothing to give him but the truth. “The library.”

If Aemond is curious about your choice he does not show it. He offers you a curt, “very well,” and guides you back to his side with a hand on your wrist.

You continue on in silence as the stone walls adorned with tapestries and flickering torchlight give way to a large, open courtyard. It’s busier in this part of the keep, servants and nobles alike stopping as you pass to bow or curtsy. Aemond pays them little mind, but you can’t look away, all too aware that they will bow to you as well once you become a princess of the realm. 

The weight of that expectation settles on your shoulders like a heavy yoke and with each step forward you find yourself more and more uncertain of how the future will look beside Aemond. 

♡

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