#obviously he jests

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

Courtney: What..? Oscar: Am I not allowed to enjoy my wife’s smile? Courtney: I suppose so. [Oscar beamed, gladly returning Courtney’s smirk. He couldn’t put into words how relieved he was that she was feeling better; he’d been more worried than he cared to admit for a while now, so it was beyond pleasing to see the familiar twinkle in her eyes once again] Courtney: I still feel so guilty about-… Oscar: I’ve told you, that’s forbidden. Courtney: You’ve had to deal with so much on your own recently though, you must be exhausted. Oscar: Psh, I can do it all… Courtney: [snorts] I’m serious! Oscar: C’mon, Cookie.. how much shit have I put you through over the years? It’s only fair. Courtney: It’s not about being fair, I just feel bad because-… Oscar: Well, I’m telling you not to. Courtney: But-… [Oscar interrupted Courtney the best way he knew how, softly bopping her nose with his afterward] Oscar: I know, but it’s okay.. all I’ve ever wanted is for you to be happy, if that means doing a two-person job on my own for a while, then so be it. You’d only do the same. Courtney: I want to be happy too, I’ve been missing out on what makes me happy… I’m tired of crying and moping and feeling so.. bleh. Oscar: You don’t feel so bleh right now, do you? Courtney: No, but-… Oscar: But denied! One day at a time n’ all that. [Courtney scoffed with fond amusement; it was pointless arguing with Oscar sometimes-.. most of the time, actually] Oscar: In sickness and in health, right? That includes the smooth jelly sloshing around in there. Courtney: Did you just call me smooth brained? Oscar: Maybe. [Robin was glad his parents were enjoying themselves, but he knew where this was headed, and he’d rather be somewhere else until they were done. If he was quick about it, they probably wouldn’t even notice]

[mugiwara-lucy]

Father of the year right here 🤣

[mycological-mariner]

Whenever I look at the legacies of Davy and Trevithick it’s just wild. Like here is a chemist who travelled Europe, came from a middle class background at the very end of the country, married a wealthy widow, became a baronet and was awarded the Napoleon Prize.

And here’s a guy who revolutionised steam power, made massive advances in mining engineering, couldn’t get anyone to fund him ever, died penniless and unknown

[tylorisgay]

hoping there will be more tylor fans in the future but they cant be a bigger fan than me or else ill do smthg drastic

[gifti3]

is lilia even real

[ohbaby-here-we-go-again]

I’m sorry, but did I really just wake up to taz skylar posting a video where he’s riding a mechanical bull, while Taylor swift’s you ‘belong with me’ plays in the background…..what in the fanfiction is this haha

link lol

[astro-b-o-y-d]

I doubt Sans is gonna be beaten by the Onceler, but I’m still annoyed we had to bring him back in at all.

[nostalgia-tblr]

Okay I am actually going to Discourse now, about that bit in that Thor film. I went to IMDB for the exact quotes!

"You know, it all makes sense now, why you favored Thor all these years, because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!"

SO. According to fandom, all of this can be taken as The Facts. As is the one about Loki being "no more than another stolen relic, locked up here until you might have use of me." The one about being a monster we all recognise as being the worst-case worries of someone who's just had his origin story suddenly and unexpectedly replaced with a new one and he's scared and upset and feels betrayed by his loved ones and all-in-all he's just having a shitty day. It is also assumed that every attempt Odin makes to dispute these Facts is him trying to cover for his own crimes. And then Odin falls asleep because ???? and so that means he's DEFINITELY lying.

But.

BUT!

What makes these things true? Can't the rest of it be based on fear rather than actual facts? Wouldn't that, y'know, fit perfectly with the emotions of the scene? And in plot terms if Odin does manage to reassure his anxious son then there's no rest of the film, is there? What a useful coincidence then that Odin has just fainted and is unable to talk Loki out of assuming the worst about everything!

Odin (and Frigga!!) doesn't have to have ACTUALLY favoured Thor but if there was ever a moment where wee growing-up Loki thought he did (which is pretty much a given, surely?) then it's going to suddenly come back to him now and OH LOOK there's a reason for Thor to have been the favourite so that means it must be true! It makes sense that he would be, so he must be! Right?? And apparently Odin has told Loki that he loves him, maybe even often. It might have been a lie but he did say it, he showed that kid some form of affection but now the kid is grown up and in existential turmoil and at this exact moment of course he doesn't believe it.

What I mean here, obvs, is that it's a bit odd for everyone to have just gone along with this rant and taken the angst-ridden fears of someone in the middle of an emotional crisis as being Objectively True Facts. And so Odin must be lying now and then and forever. He's a bad person, his son said so while crying his eyes out and refusing to accept any comfort from him! PROOF!!!

tl;dr - If I have to say "it's a mistake to assume that Loki can and should always be taken at his word" one more time...

[cornerihaunt]

made the mistake of following the tito (full name) tag and now i get bitter isl*es fans that want him back. OVER MY DEAD BODY!!!!!!!!!! he’s OURS.

[sapphiretanto]

Ugh, some of the things I see about Raph just piss me off.

He’s a good brother dammit.

this is not a safe space for raph haters

[fairy-writes]

Hi!! I saw that you write for Arcane and had a really cute idea for Vander. I don’t really see a lot of fics where you get to see Vander’s reactions to the reader either playing with the kids or comforting them, so I thought a fic centered around that might be cute? (I think also having a bit of slow burn would be sweet, like both Vander and the reader like each other but don’t do anything about it until getting a little push from the kids because they ship).

ONE LITTLE PUSH

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Arcane: League of Legends

Pairing(s): Vander x Reader

Word Count: 1.9k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Bit of a Slowburn, Fluff, Getting Together, Reader is Smaller than Vander (but who isn’t?), Sibling Bickering

Notes: VANDER MY FAVORITE

(No, but seriously, contrary to popular belief, he’s my 1st favorite over Viktor)

JUST IN TIME (kind of) FOR SEASON TWO, LETS GOOOOO

__________________________________________________________________________

Vander wasn’t quite sure why you stuck around for so long. 

In fact, he wasn’t sure why you stuck around in the first place. 

But… As Vander watches you with the kids. His kids. He begins to understand why. 

You were kind, unyieldingly so. Even as Mylo grew to start picking on Powder, even as they fought, you were kind and patient and offered them the unending gentle love they all so craved. 

The love he couldn’t afford to give them because who could be gentle in the Undercity? Especially in the depths of the Lanes?

You could. 

Vander was in the middle of pouring a drink when Powder tumbled into The Last Drop. She was covered in bruises and dust from something. Or someone. She barely met his gaze as she clambered to her feet and all but sprinted into the back where they all slept. Vander looked through the multitude of customers and spotted you. 

You had obviously seen Powder go bolting, worry twisting your face as you glanced toward the bar and met his stare. You arched an eyebrow, and he shrugged. You rolled your eyes and sighed before smiling in jest and getting up from where you had been tinkering with the jukebox. 

Vander finally manages to get away from his chatty clients and makes his way back into the back room nearly fifteen minutes later. 

Only to pause by the door. 

“—ylo hates me! He does, I swear!” Powder cries, and you hush her gently, dabbing what looks to be some of the antiseptic you have lying around on her cuts and bruises. Disinfectant was hard to come by, especially in the Lanes, but you were seemingly magic in the sense that you always knew who to talk to to get some. It seems you had worked your magic yet again. 

“Did Mylo say that he hates you?” You ask gently, whispering a quiet “sorry” under your breath as she flinched with the sting of the antiseptic. 

Powder pauses, thinking what had to be her earlier conversation over, 

“Well… No…” She mumbles, and you hum, 

“Can I give you my honest opinion?” You ask, and she stills, looking up at you with wide eyes before nodding. 

“Aren’t you always honest with us?” She asks. You chuckle at that. 

“I suppose I am. But I don’t think Mylo hates you. Does he find you a bit annoying? Maybe. But every big brother thinks that about their younger siblings. I know mine did.” You say, and Powder mulls your words over and over and over in her mind. 

She always did overthink things. 

“I didn't know you had a big brother.” She says eventually, and you let out a loud laugh at that. 

“You are a silly girl for focusing on that. But yes, I came from a big family. And guess what? I was the baby of the family. Just. Like. You.” You say, emphasizing your words with a pinch to her side. Powder squeals with laughter and wriggles away to escape your dastardly tickling. 

Vander hangs his head with a huff and a smile before turning to head back to the bar counter. He can hear your conversation continue as Powder escapes your grasp.

“Now, where did you get all these bruises from?”

“Um… Vi taught me parkour from Topside down…”

“Powder! You’re like seven!”

“Seven and a half! And she said I was ready!”

Ever since you began to stick around, you had become something of a parent figure to the four little children Vander had come into care for. 

To Vi and Powder especially. 

So when Mylo burst into The Last Drop with the words of a fistfight on his tongue, you were the first one out the door. 

Vander was close behind. 

Mylo led you and Vander deep into the Undercity. In fact, it was so far into the Undercity that Vander was worried they were getting into some dark territory. 

Like… Really dark territory. 

But soon enough, the sounds of a fight were heard, and soon after, you were deep in the throng of a multi-person fistfight. Everyone paused for a second when they saw you and then stopped altogether when they spotted Vander not far behind. 

You began to pull people off and shoved them out of the way. You did this again and again, ducking under a few stray punches until you managed to unearth Vi. 

She wasn’t looking too hot. 

Her face was bruised and swollen, and the fifteen-year-old spat out a wad of blood as she bared her bloody teeth and prepared to fight again. 

At least until she saw you. 

It was as if the tension had been released from her shoulders. 

She all but slumped into your grasp, and you stumbled back a step with the sudden weight. Vander yanked the last person away from you both and scooped up his adoptive daughter. She leaned her head into the crook of his neck and was obviously fighting back tears. 

Mylo was hunched over, hands on his knees, and wheezed from all the sprinting. 

“Vi? Violet, can you hear me?” You said as soon as you all returned to The Last Drop, and Vander set her down on the couch. Powder and Claggor had been found a block away, fighting off more thugs from whoever sent them after the literal children. 

He would've pummeled them to a pulp if Vander hadn’t hung up his gauntlets years before. 

Vi’s head lolled from side to side, and you shone a pocket flashlight into her eyes, watching as her pupils dilated and contracted. You were experienced at this, taking care of people, even more so than he thought. 

Were you a doctor deep in your past? 

As Vander thought about it, he realized he didn’t know practically anything about you. Your past, your likes, dislikes, he knew you were good with machines and medicine and that you came from a big family. But that was it. 

And that hurt his heart. 

You ended up ushering everyone out of the room while you worked on caring for Vi. Vander closed the bar early and was in the middle of putting chairs on tables when you emerged. Powder, Mylo, and Claggor dropped what they were doing. They scampered to your side, a chorus of “How’s Vi?” erupting from the kids. You offered them a tired smile and patted their heads. 

“She’ll be okay. She’s resting right now. You can go in and see her if you’re quiet.”

And then it was the two of you. 

Vander set the final chair on top of the table and meandered his way over where you were sitting at the bar, head in your hands. 

You looked tired. 

“Is she really okay?” He asked, and you grunted, rubbing at your temples. 

“She has a broken nose, fractured left arm, some bruised ribs, and a concussion. Which, all things considered, she’s very lucky. It could’ve been a lot worse.” You say, and he sighs, 

“Did she say why she got into the fight?” He replied, and you shrug, 

“She was protecting Powder. Then, more people started showing up until it was an all-out brawl. That’s when we stepped in.” You say, and his shoulders sag. 

Vi was going to be okay. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever said it. But thank you. For everything you’ve done. Taking care of them and all that.” He says, and you just hum. 

“You guys gave me a home after everything. I’m just repaying my debt. Well… that and I love those kids.” You say, and he arches an eyebrow,

“After everything?” He inquires, and you glance up sharply as if not realizing what you had said. 

Eventually, your gaze casts downward, and you run a hand over your head and through your hair. 

“I was a doctor in Piltover before the rebellion. I was caught trying to help the Undercity before they were officially citizens and cast out.” You say, and his arched eyebrow raises even higher. 

“A doctor? Were you any good?” You bark out a dry laugh at that,

“One of the best!” Your voice cracks as you speak, and he feels his heart splinter into pieces. 

Vander should’ve known that Claggor and Mylo were up to something when they came in with sneaky grins on their faces. 

The Last Drop was all but desolate. It was the wee hours of the morning before the people of the Undercity awoke to begin their day. But the door was unlocked, and the kids were allowed to run in and out as they pleased. 

Which they had been doing a lot in the last hour or so. 

“Vander!” Mylor clamored for his adopted father’s attention, waving an excited hand as he scampered up to the counter. Claggor hung behind, ever the stoic young man. But there was mischief in their eyes and curling the corners of their mouths. 

Vander slung the rag he used to wipe the counters down over his shoulder and leaned on the bar counter. 

“What did you do now?” He teased, and Mylo all but squawked. 

“When have I ever done anything?!” Vander just stared, 

“Do you really want me to answer that?” He asked, and Claggor snickered at Mylo’s deflated expression. Mylo quickly spun on a heel and jabbed a finger at his adopted brother, 

“Not a word outta you, Claggor!” He snapped before spinning back as something dawned on him.

“You gotta come with us!” He demanded, and Vander glanced between the two of them. 

“Why?” He asked, and Mylo let out an exaggerated groan.

“No questions! Just come on!” He grabbed Vander’s hand and tried tugging him around the counter and toward the front door. 

Vander relented, locking the door behind him as he followed the two boys. 

Only to realize very quickly what was actually going on. 

His first tip-off was hearing Powder and Vi’s voices, yours mixed in as you asked where you were going, why they were taking you, and what they were doing. 

Vi answered no questions. Powder just chirped excitedly. “You’ll see! You’ll see!”

The six of you met in the middle of the street, Powder dragging you by your hand as you followed behind patiently. You glanced up from listening to Powder, and your gazes met. Vander felt his heart skip a beat as he took in your appearance. There wasn’t anything particularly new, but you looked like you had cleaned up some. Your hair was pinned neatly back, and your clothes looked ironed. 

You looked… Really nice.

“Vander? What’s going on?” You asked, and Vi nudged you with her good arm. Her fractured left one was still healing carefully under your care. 

“We’re setting you two up.” She teased, and you stared dumbly. 

“Setting us up how?” You asked, and now it was Powder’s turn to blurt out an answer, 

“On a date!” 

Before the two of you could react, all four kids all but disappeared around the corner in a cloud of dust. Leaving you facing Vander and utterly alone. 

It was safe to say he was panicking just a little bit. 

“Vander? Do you have any idea what they meant?” You asked gently, and he scrubbed a hand down his face. 

“My guess is they want us to go on a date.” He said, fully prepared to hear rejection. Because who would want to go on a date with him? A middle-aged man with a stained past. His lungs twisted as he heard you take a step closer. 

A smaller hand slipped into his, and he looked down from where he had been staring at Topside. 

Your eyes were lit up, not with disgust at the proposition he was proposing. 

But they were filled with hope for the future this relationship would bring. 

[kurooh]

keigo loves shiny things (to no one’s surprise), especially your jewelry. he has no preference for gold or silver, and thinks you look good in anything or nothing. he’s gotten you necklaces, bracelets, rings, even waist beads.

but one day, he gifts you an anklet; attached to the small chain is a charm, a ‘k’ written in a delicate font. he’s all smiles when you gush, “keigo! this is so cute, thank you baby!” he clasps it onto your ankle and watches happily as you jump and dance around your bedroom, anklet catching the light perfectly.

but now that you have an anklet on, he can’t seem to stop folding you into a mating press every time you have sex together. the second you say “fuck me, kei” he’s pulling your legs over his shoulders as he presses his cock inside you.

your body bounces with the roughness of his thrusts, as does the anklet, tinkling quietly beside his ear as he watches your toes curl in delight from the corner of his eye. oh, and the way you can’t seem to stop gasping out his name; it falls from your lips like a prayer, full of pleading and pleasure.

“keigo—kei, right there! ah, shit..”

“like this, dove?” he pants, hair falling in front of his eyes as he exerts himself.

“mhm, that’s so good..”

“i love it when you say my name,” keigo admits randomly after a pause, chuckling breathlessly as he watches your fucked out brain try to process what he’s just said.

“i love your name, keigo,” you twist beneath him, back bowing off the bed as you push your hips closer to his.

“is that why you’re wearing that anklet all the time?” he jests, hand coming up to the aforementioned piece of jewelry to roll the chain between two fingers.

“obviously, kei.”

[chelseeebe]

we can’t be friends.

a little fake dating situation in which eddie must pretend to be your boyfriend to keep up pretences, but then feelings start to become hazy and now he’s not sure if you could ever be just friends again.

a/n: i’m reading this back and actually not liking it as much as i first did hahahaah but i hope you enjoy!! i just wanted to reiterate my hate for the duffers and the fact that they didn’t give him any other t-shirt other than that dang hellfire one>:(

18+. mdni. smut. mentions of bad parent/s. modern au i guess but it’s hardly mentioned. no use of y/n!

eddie wasn’t expecting to walk in to you so stressed.

it was the usual thursday movie night but you’d answered the door with a green complexion and the look of a deer in headlights.

“what’s wrong?” he perplexes, shutting the door behind him as you continue to pace the living room floor.

you sigh, blinking at him as you stop for a few seconds. you’re contemplating something, sizing him up with your eyes narrowed. it makes him a little unsettled if he’s honest.

“next week, are you free?”

“what?” wondering what the hell that had to do with your nervous exterior.

“are you free?” you press.

“uh.. probably, why?” not an inch of sense in your words.

“you wanna come on vacation with me? i mean- it’s not so much a vacation but a family reunion, but can you come?” chewing on your fingernail.

“when? what? why?” rattling through all of his questions all at once.

you sigh again, frustrated with his lack of understanding, “family reunion, i can’t do it alone eds..” your hands cycle around the air, “josh was supposed to come with me but obviously.. that’s not happening so can you come?”

eddie’s face finally un-scrunches. it all made sense now.

you’d spoken enough about your crazy parents and subsequently just why you’d moved halfway across the country to get away from them to understand why you didn’t want to go on your own.

he’d also been elated when you’d told him that you and josh had broken up. eddie had never liked him, in fact, if were given the chance, he thinks he’d punch him square in the face.

that hadn’t really helped you of course, so he kept it mostly to himself. but if the opportunity were ever to arise, he’d do it. no shame.

“oh, shit, why didn’t you just ask me in the first place?” he laughs, rolling in his eyes in jest as he collapses on the couch.

“i’ve asked everyone.. and i mean, everyone and they couldn’t, i was scared!” your body relaxes, coming to join him on the couch.

“oh thanks,” eddie scoffs, “so i was the last resort?”

“no,” you prod him in the side, “i didn’t think you’d wanna come, that’s all.”

“yeah right,” chuckling as you hand him a beer, “i don’t mind, i’ll suffer for you,” popping the lid off and taking a swig.

“thank you,” you exhale, leaning back against the couch, “really. it means a lot.”

“so what are we doing? skiing? sightseeing?” eddie probes, making himself comfortable.

you scoff, “oh no, it’s at my aunt’s beach house in illinois.. it’s big enough for you to have your own room and shit, you’ll just have to pretend to like craft beer and talk baseball with my dad.”

eddie’s head hits the back of the couch, groaning loudly, “baseball? man, i dunno if i can make it anymore.”

you throw him the dirtiest glare, “you’re not funny.”

despite your words, he falls into a fit of laughter truly not making your scowl any lesser. he knows you appreciate him deep down, given the fact that you hadn’t hit him yet.

-

the drive across indiana isn’t too bad, eddie only wishes he hadn’t let you control the music for the entirety of the journey.

“just..” you exhale, glancing warily over at him from the passenger seat, “just be normal, okay? don’t let them piss you off,” nodding with every word.

“you don’t trust me?” he grins, earning a deathly glare. “i won’t piss them off.. don’t worry,” turning his sarcastic mocking into kindness.

your eyes squeeze shut before you slide out of the door, doubting your choice to bring eddie along.

your parents open the door with a wide smile and their arms extended, pulling you in before looking over at eddie, obviously slightly taken aback with the man at their door.

he offers his hand out, “i’m eddie, nice to meet you sir,” feeling very judged and not at all surprised, not with all your horror stories.

your dad takes his hand, gripping on tight as he eyes him up and down, “so this is the boyfriend,” humming quietly, “it’s good to finally meet you, son.”

eddie freezes, eyes sliding from your parents to you to find you in the exact same position.

boyfriend?

“uh..” you fumble, mouth opening and closing somewhat like a fish, “yes! yes.. this is him,” chuckling nervously.

oh shit.

his week of rest and relaxation was about to become a week of performing and lies.

you watch eddie anxiously, your eyes speaking a thousand words. praying he doesn’t mess up, doesn’t embarrass you in front of them.

“yeah.. yeah, that’s me,” he nods hurriedly, going to shake your mom’s hand, “lovely to meet you.. miss.”

now eddie wasn’t opposed to pretending to be your boyfriend but fuck, really? he needed at least a week to prepare and rehearse, rather than you throwing him into a week of improvisation at a whim.

the literal second the door to your shared bedroom shuts, eddie spins on his heel, jaw clenched with an exasperated expression.

“what the fuck?” he whispers, rather loudly.

“i’m sorry!” you hush back, eyes wide, “i- i.. i didn’t have a choice! fuck, i’m really sorry,” anger turning to regret as you flop onto the bed, head in hands.

well great. now he feels guilty. you’re almost sobbing when he joins you on the bed, pressing his lips together in frustration.

“hey! it’s fine.. it’s fine,” he assures, “shit, it’ll be fun,” bumping his shoulder into yours playfully.

you sniffle pathetically, looking up at him with tearful eyes, “i’m really sorry.. i panicked,” bottom lip wobbling.

god, you look like the reincarnation of bambi.

his heart pangs, guilt wracking his chest for the slight overreaction.

“i know,” nodding slightly, “it’s okay.. it’ll be funny, you know?” he’s not sure that it’ll be anymore funny than it’ll be stressful, but he’s prepared to see this week through.

for you.

-

it’s the little things that make a relationship a relationship. things eddie hadn’t ever considered.

like the seemingly insignificant touches and the casual kisses. all things he now had to meticulously plan and prepare for.

nothing was ever too much. a gentle peck on the cheek or a graze of the knee. things no one would really notice unless you weren’t doing them.

you grab his hand walking to the table for dinner and he almost starts cackling until he remembers, now hoping that his palm wasn’t sweating too much.

that night in bed, you turn to face him, tiny smile creeping onto your face, “i think my cousin likes you, i mean- did you see the look on her face when you walked into dinner?”

eddie lets his phone fall onto his chest, flabbergasted at your suggestion, “what are you talking about?”

you hit his arm, furrowing your brows, “c’mon, she was totally checking you out, don’t pretend you didn’t notice,” rolling your eyes in jest.

if he’s honest, he really didn’t notice.

he’d been too preoccupied by you in that damn dress to care about anyone else at the table.

eddie didn’t get to see you dressed up often and the dress was sitting just right, he couldn’t exactly focus on much else.

“oh, are you getting jealous?” he mocks.

you tut, shaking your head, “maybe after we’ve fake-broken up you two can get together.”

“you are jealous,” he laughs, sliding his phone onto the nightstand and settles into bed, “what if i don’t wanna fake-break up?” only half-serious as he says it.

“well then i’ll get a fake-restraining order against you,” poking your tongue out before turning the lamp off. “goodnight, eddie,” he can hear the smile in your voice as you roll over.

there’s a quiet, niggling little voice somewhere in the back of his mind. or maybe it’s his heart speaking.

whatever it is, he doesn’t feel the need to acknowledge it. at least not right now anyway.

-

eddie supposes that a vacation at your aunt’s beach house would entail seeing you in little clothing but he can’t help the little woah from leaving his mouth when you walk out of the bathroom in a tiny bikini top.

“don’t be fucking weird,” you frown, eyes trailing down to his hot dog swimming trunks.

“i’m not!” he exclaims, still trying to draw his eyes away from your chest, “i’ve just never seen.. them,” eyes widening at your revealing bikini.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, expressing your disgust with a small groan.

the entire day is made significantly harder by your top, or lack thereof. eddie finds his gaze slipping downward and every so often has to remind himself that he’s not actually your boyfriend and he doesn’t have the rights to ogle you.

it’s just hard to focus on a thing your dad says to him when you’re sat in front of him like that.

his limits are tested when your cousin suggests a game of tennis. already calling eddie for her team as you get into position on the opposite side of the court.

perhaps you were right, her unnecessary, constant touching sent alarm bells ringing in his head. not that he’s paying it any mind, too distracted by your chest as you bound around the court.

so much so, he completely misses the ball, letting it bounce off of the court and into a hedge somewhere.

“eddie!” she shrieks, running off to collect the ball.

your eyes lock from over the net, your brows threaded together, “how about we swap teams? you join me,” pointing your finger at his face, gesturing for him to join you, which he does with a smile.

mostly just glad to be away from her wandering hands but also, he gets to prove a point.

“you are jealous,” eddie smirks, hushed tones as he speaks into your ear. you’re so close now, enough to touch.

he wants to.

he wants to so bad.

even if it were just to make your cousin seethe with envy.

“me? never,” smacking your racket gently at his leg, earning a nasty glare from your unhappy cousin who smacks the ball far too harshly towards him.

-

he’s too hot and bothered to do much after such an exciting game of tennis, walking in stride with you as you enter the large house. blabbering away about something or nothing when your mom announces her presence rather loudly.

“oh god,” pulling a face as she eyes your outfit, “you really should coverup sweetie, nobody wants to see that,” cackling away to herself.

eddie’s floored, utterly stunned that she’d ever say something like that, let alone to your face. your despairing expression stabs him in the heart, choking him from the inside out.

“well i do,” grinning at the lady in front of him.

“of course you do, you’re a man,” the older woman sighs, “i think it’s a little disgusting to just.. have everything out there,” gesturing to your chest, “women should have pride in their appearance, you know?”

you blink, chewing the inside of your lip as you nod. shrinking into yourself as you glide up the stairs. in an ideal world, he’d call her a bitch and move on with his life, however, he supposes that probably wouldn’t be wise.

she tuts, shaking her head at the stairs, “she’s always so offended.. can’t say a thing to her.”

eddie bites his tongue, diverting from what he truly wanted to say to offer some mild criticism, “maybe you shouldn’t have said anything at all,” shrugging as he flies past her and up the stairs, hot on your trail.

the bedroom’s empty though the en-suite door is closed, a muffled sniff coming from the other side. he hates that she’s made you cry, that she’s capable of even making you feel bad when you had absolutely zero reason to.

his knuckles rap against the door, pressing his cheek to the wood, “it’s me.”

there’s a small scuffle and then the lock clicks though the door remains closed. having to console you after the amazing afternoon you’d had feels wrong.

he creeps inside, closing the door behind him. you’re slouched on the toilet, tears leaking down your warm cheeks. it’s a punch to the gut to see you like this. all those harsh stories you’d recalled to him suddenly made a shit ton of sense.

“you okay?” eddie asks, the answer already overwhelmingly obvious.

“yeah,” you sigh, wiping your sodden cheeks, sniffling for good measure.

“you shouldn’t listen to her,” he affirms, perching on the bathtub, “don’t let her upset you.. it’s not worth it,” although his words probably fall on deaf ears, you already know this.

“i know..” staring up at him with your puppy dog eyes, “i’m sorry, she just.. ugh,” snarling your lip, “she knows how to make me feel like shit.”

“what the hell are you apologising to me for?” eddie jokes, poking you in the arm, “she’s just jealous,” choosing wisely where to go from here, “she doesn’t look as good as you do and she doesn’t like that.”

his words crack a tiny smile on your lips, mission accomplished.

“thanks,” you nod, “i mean that. thank you for even coming with me.. i couldn’t do it without you.”

his heart swells a little, or a lot really.

this is a dangerous game, he thinks. wanting nothing more than to cradle you in his arms.. blur the boundaries a little more.

how much more blurred could they possibly get before eddie had to admit to his feelings?

he’s not sure he wants to find out.

-

on reflection, it had been a pretty good week. at least eddie thinks so, pretending to be your boyfriend wasn’t exactly normal or anything he’d ever pictured himself doing. but he’s enjoyed it nonetheless.

despite a new found, deep hatred for your mother, he doesn’t think the rest of your family were that bad. willing to volunteer for any other vacations you might be forced to drag him on.

nowhere near as testing as he once thought it would be. in reality, the hardest part about it all was that he had to go home alone tomorrow.

as both of you lounge on the bed, the tv prattling on in the background, he smiles, gently elbowing you in the side.

“y’know this week has been fun,” reminiscing on all the stupid things he’s had to do to sell this story.

one night, you had helped yourself to a little too much wine. stumbling all over the vast garden as your family watched on in horror. so eddie did what any good boyfriend would do and slung you over his shoulder, giggling into his back as he manoeuvred his way up to your room.

not only the public displays of affection come back to him, but also the seemingly minuscule ones. where only you were involved. sneaky laughs and glances that only the two of you could understand.

“mhm,” you hum, sliding your bookmark into your book, “it has, thank you for doing this,” before leaning over to place your book onto the bedside table.

“i’ve enjoyed it,” he meets your eye, that same uncomfortable fluttering starts again in his chest, “being your ‘boyfriend’ i mean.”

you shuffle, turning to face him properly, “well.. i’ve enjoyed being your girlfriend,” lips twitching into a smile.

there’s something in the silence, a tension that feels ready to burst.

eddie does something he might live to regret, something so idiotic and foolish that put your entire friendship at risk.

he leans forward, hastily connecting your lips in what must be the world’s most awkward kiss.

you hesitate for too long of a moment, jerking your head back to stare into his eyes.

he’s done it. he’s ruined the single best thing he had left.

an apology begins to form on his tongue but your lips silence him, your hand finding his cheek to bring him closer. eddie’s eyes fall shut, slowly accepting this, that you wanted it too.

he repositions himself, at your mercy as you tug on his hair, now hovering above your body, elbows sinking into the mattress.

he can feel you now, your chest brushing against his, the way your heart rate seems to match his, thumping away in your chest.

“we should.. we should stop,” eddie pulls away, breathlessly panting with your lips still tracing over one another.

“no.. no,” you shake your head, your eyes shiny and full of something he can’t place.

“what?”

“kiss me again,” you demand.

he’s not quite certain he’s hearing you right. fear had forced him to tear himself away but now you were asking for him to do it again?

eddie falters for a second too long, forcing you into kissing him, smashing your lips to his as your fingers scramble to find the back of his neck under his hair.

oh my god oh my god oh my god.

your entire family are in this house and he’s going to desecrate this innocent bed with you, his fake-girlfriend.

he feels your knee slide up his thigh, allowing him more space between your legs. now it’s more than just your chests meshed together, his poor sweatpants tightening with every slight buck of your hips. blood rushing to his cock as you gasp and sigh into his mouth.

he has to pull himself back into the room when your hand slides from his neck to his crotch, lightly tracing over his throbbing cock.

making out could be easily laughed off but this- this was serious.

“you.. you wanna do this?” he asks, gasping for breath as you continue to kiss at the side of his mouth.

“i want to do this,” you reaffirm, dipping your hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, drawing out a hoarse groan from his throat.

your hand wraps around the base of his cock, leaving a trail of kisses to his jaw.

his eyelids flutter, struggling to stay open as you start pumping your fist, thumb circling his leaking tip.

“oh my god,” eddie breathes, jolting his hips into your fist.

this entire week he had been internalising all of these intrusive thoughts and feelings about you and now it felt like he might genuinely cum all over your hand, not even five minutes into this.

it doesn’t at all help when you’re panting and writhing around underneath him, delicate fingers making him feel like he’s flying.

“f-fuck,” he stutters, grabbing your forearm, “you have to stop,” regaining just enough composure to reopen his eyes.

“why?” concern rippling through your voice.

now he falters, gazing into your lust filled eyes, pupils all blown out and crazy. it would be despicable if he were to divulge his embarrassing secret to you.

so he takes your arm, pinning it above your head before starting his descent, a paper chain of kisses and light grazings down your neck and chest.

it’s entirely too intimate for just friends, fake relationship or not.

“oh,” you sigh, head rolling back onto the pillow.

eddie has control now, regaining power without a damn clue of what to do with it. your shorts come down with his free hand with a little help from you, your ankle now comes to rest on his shoulder.

he should feel stronger than he does, rather more intimidated and fearful that he’s going to disappoint.

“please..” you pout, “please touch me,” he wonders if you can sense his anxiety.

he lets go of his grip on your wrist, trailing down your quivering body until he meets your lower stomach. this new position allows him access to your heat, wet and waiting for him.

“shit,” he mutters, sliding a solitary finger between your slick folds, watching as your chest heaves in response. “you’re so pretty,” he can’t help but blurt out.

“shut up and touch me,” you snap, chasing his touch with your hips.

eddie’s not going to deprive you of that now, is he?

circling around your clit, noting the way you groan and grab onto his arm. not that he thinks that there’ll ever be a second time for this.

your eager hands grab at his sweatpants, hoping that that’ll be enough of a hint.

he’s not going to last long, that’s for certain.

fed up with his stalling, you tug his sweatpants down, aiding him in sliding them off and onto the floor with a muffled thump.

your arms fan out across the mattress, glancing down at the minimal space between your bodies and then back into his eyes.

his entire body shudders as he slides into your eager cunt, bumbling through all of the profanity in his vocabulary. watching as your jaw falls slack, wary that you couldn’t make too much noise.

perhaps it was the fact that he’d been brushing off any even slightly sexual thought for an entire week or maybe it was just true but eddie swears that no one had ever felt this good before.

“fuck,” he wails, hips slamming against the backs of your thighs, digging his fingertips into the soft, mailable flesh of your hip.

just the way you grip onto the blanket makes him dizzy, letting his eyesight go hazy, a blurred picture of you sprawled underneath him.

the pleasure is insurmountable, something snapping in his stomach when your hand reaches out for him, gripping onto his forearm.

“eds,” you gasp, just loud enough over his barely contained grunts, “more,” sickening eyes doing all the work for you.

there’s not much more of him left to give, already nudging against your soft spot, repositioning your calf higher on his shoulder to allow him deeper, receiving a sweet whimper in return.

“yeah,” you pant, over and over, fingernails latching onto his skin. his arms start to shake, still holding himself up over you as his orgasm begins to catch up with him.

“shit.. i don’t- i don’t think..” eddie swallows, struggling to stay composed as you tighten around him, looking up at him through batting eyelashes.

it makes his stomach twist, barely able to move as his high comes crashing down, overtaking his senses, sweaty bodies colliding as he collapses on top of you.

“oh shit.. oh my god,” he whines, release painting your thigh, the sheet and even your fucking t-shirt.

he’s not ready for a child but he’s certain that’d have been worth it.

eddie glances at you, subsequently moving from your body onto the mattress. the entire high he had been feeling comes tumbling down, now faced with the reality that you were no longer just friends.

the ceiling becomes incredibly interesting, both of you avoiding eye contact as the silence somehow grows louder.

for a room that was just full of lewd, filthy noises, it sure is quiet now.

the blanket rustles and eddie dares a peek, you stand at the edge of the bed, disheveled and still slightly flustered.

you look down at the stain he had left, tutting quietly, “thanks a lot.. gonna have to change now,” adding a soft chuckle.

“sorry.. cheaper than a baby though,” adding to your banter, it’s indescribable the relief he feels.

eddie watches as you rummage around in your suitcase, no longer shying away as you pull your shirt over your head, shimmying into your clean clothes.

when you rejoin him in bed, the tension is mostly gone, the lamp clicking off, encompassing the room in total and utter darkness.

there’s a further moment of silence wherein eddie isn’t sure if he should bolt and hide or embarrass himself further and say something stupid.

something- someone, brushes against his ribcage as you shuffle, your hand coming to rest on his stomach.

there’s not a word exchanged between you but eddie takes the hint, sliding your hand further over his midriff. it’s a pathetic attempt at cuddling but it makes him flutter all the same.

-

eddie wakes up sprawled face first across the bed, blinking at the bright light, not a trace of you in the room.

he fucked up. he fucked up so bad that you’ve decided to find your own way home and left him here.

shit.

he clambers out of bed, pulling his hastily discarded sweatpants back on, remembering every last detail of your night last night.

the guilt comes in waves, and then embarrassment and shame jump in to make it worse.

years of friendship down the drain and for what?

he just about builds enough courage to leave the room and venture downstairs, creeping out onto the hall when you come bounding up the stairs, meeting him in the cramped corridor.

“hi,” smiling coyly, playing the oblivious game.

“hey,” he nods, reciprocating the smile.

nothing was ruined. you’re fine.

“i was just coming to wake you..breakfast’s ready,” you fiddle with your thumbs, a completely different version of yourself than the one he saw last night.

“oh good,” eddie blinks, “i’m starving,” wanting to smash his palm into his face the second the words come out.

“great!” you exclaim, the painful cringe coming through on your face too.

the two of you walk down the stairs in silence, sitting at the table with a small knowing glance.

this house is huge. he’s sure no one else would’ve heard.

he’s midway through his coffee when your dad leans across the table, probing the two of you, “so, will you be trying for kids anytime soon?”

eddie damn near chokes on the searing hot liquid, coughing his gulp back up into the mug, combatting the burning sensation travelling down his throat and also up into his cheeks.

why would he ask that? over breakfast no less.

“uh no.. nope,” you answer for him, thankfully.

“that’s a shame,” your father stands from the table, sliding his plate into the soapy water before making his way over to eddie, clapping him on the back, “you’re gonna have to make an honest woman outta her first son,” before shuffling off into the living room.

he wants to die. in fact, he’d much rather the ground open up and swallow the two of you alive than to be sat at this breakfast table.

judging by the look on your face, you share the sentiment.

-

he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you. he’s going to tell you.

he’s just not sure when or how. it’d be unfair for him to unload his feelings unto you at the beginning of the journey, not to mention also extremely inconvenient if you didn’t feel the same.

but then he’s also acutely aware that if he doesn’t force those words out soon, that they may never come out.

he’s just finished loading your bags into the back of his van, admittedly a little sad to be leaving.

it’s like, he could no longer pretend that what was going on was real. that last night might’ve just been a mistake and you want to cut ties here.

your phone blares from your hand, holding up a finger as you walk away to take the call.

eddie rehearses what he’s going to say to you. well, tries to.

i think you’re super cool, how about i become your boyfriend for real?

he cringes at the thought of it, it wasn’t really the declaration of love that you deserved.

the door opening startles him, your demeanour had done a complete one eighty, your shoulders slumped as you slide into the seat in silence.

“you all good?” eddie asks, wondering what had changed in such a short time.

“uh.. yeah.”

“y’sure?” he probes, not entirely convinced by your change in attitude.

“that was josh,” you swallow, looking straight ahead out of the windscreen, “he wants to see me when i’m back.. to talk.”

“oh,” he replies flatly, “wow okay.”

the life he had dreamed slowly crumbled before him, it was foolish to think that you’d just want to settle down with him now. he’d gotten ahead of himself and now had to reap the consequences.

“yeah..”

eddie doesn’t utter another word, instead, turning the key and starting the long, painful drive home.

maybe he’ll throw himself out of the van on the interstate. punishment for letting himself even slightly believe that you’d be interested in him too.

-

josh is waiting outside of your building when eddie pulls up, smug grin in tow.

tempted to just keep driving, smash into the side of his expensive shiny car and then reverse over his spindly little body.

that doesn’t happen of course.

instead, eddie keeps his head ducked low, muttering a low see you later before you clamber out. there’s so much left unsaid, even a complete idiot could see that.

he doesn’t watch as you walk over to your ex, certainly doesn’t want to see how his hands meet the small of your back and the way you seem to relax into his touch.

not a chance.

it’s eating him alive. even with the windows rolled down entirely, he’s sweating. as if it’s gnawing at his skin, trying to find a way out.

fuckfuckfuck.

tyres screech along the tarmac, his hands shaking as he turns the wheel. something otherworldly and dangerous overtakes his senses as he tears off back down the same road he’d just traveled.

and maybe he’d regret it and maybe it’d ruin your friendship forever but this week couldn’t have been for nothing.

you had to at least know.

eddie’s palms are wet, holding onto the steering wheel with a white-knuckled grip. he doesn’t recall the journey to your apartment being so fucking long but he feels like he’s in this stuffy van for an eternity.

the moment he pulls onto that familiar street, bile rises in his throat.

maybe josh would have sweet talked his way back into your life and he’d get his ass beat. or maybe you’d laugh him out of there, telling him to never contact you again.

he supposes that there’s not much left to lose now.

eddie hops out of his van without so much as a look back, bounding up the short path as the door swings open, nearly knocking him for six.

“eddie,” you remark, phone gripped in your hand. your jaw hangs open, what looks like tears stain your cheeks. “i was trying to call you.”

frankly, he’s still out of breath from the exhilaration of it all, struggling to find his words as he stares gormless at you, “my phone’s dead.. i didn’t- didn’t know.. what’s wrong?” mind immediately jumping to josh.

what had he done?

“nonono.. nothing’s wrong, i just..” you trail off, your gaze not once breaking, “why are you here?”

eddie’s mind goes blank, why was he here?

to tell you that he thinks he’s in love with you? he can’t say that.

“you.. left something- in the van.”

idiot.

total fucking fool.

“oh!” swallowing the shock of his arrival, “what? what is it?”

why are you both dancing around this? he’s sure you feel it too. maybe. that could be the adrenaline speaking.

“nothing.. you didn’t leave anything- i don’t know why i said that.” shaking his head, if he weren’t so nervous, he’d have been crippled with embarrassment. “look, i have to tell you something,” biding his time, hoping your crazed ex won’t pop out of a bush and pummel his head into the ground.

“eddie..” you start, that solemn tone he was dreading to hear.

“no, let me say it,” he tries again, clearing his throat, “i need to s-“

“-eddie,” cutting him off mid-sentence, bounding up to him with your arms extended, throwing them around his neck as you press your lips to his.

it’s almost enough force to knock him on his ass, his hands coming to meet your waist in an attempt to stabilise both of you.

you pull away, lips still pouted slightly, “sorry.. what were you gonna say?”

eddie can’t recall a word of the speech he’d halfheartedly rehearsed. “well shit.. doesn’t matter now,” once again pressing his lips to yours, swaying in the evening breeze as everything seems to fall into place.

[ancient-day]

@edelgard-enjoyer replied:

it's so funny how many haru fans are also goro enjoyers (myself included). i want to put them in a locked room with nothing but a baseball bat and see what happens

it’s so true, and maybe it’s because truly loving haru means not giving a shit that her asshole dad died, so it’s not really something to hold against goro if you don’t really care lmao they’re also both that “looks cute, has sadistic tendencies in combat” type, so i dunno, i just think they’re neat! and you’re right; would love to see what goes down in there.

[bumblesimagines]

Winner Takes It All

Request: Yes or No

Summary: Whether she can admit it or not, Rhaenyra has always been given everything she has come to desire. Except for one boy whose always been just out of reach. Envy and resentment rears its head when the boy becomes a man and marries their childhood friend.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: Typical GoT/HOTD warnings, canon divergent/AU where Rhaenyra is crowned, minor suggestive/sexual content, alicent is finally happy but rhaenyra is not, uno reserve to my last love triangle ig

~~~

"Lord Jason is going to say something he believes is funny and Lady Ellisha will pretend to laugh behind her fan." 

Rhaenyra watched with a wide, eager smile as Lord Jason spoke and laughed heartily, obviously finding whichever jest he made funnier than the lady standing before him. Lady Ellisha raised her feathery fan to cover the lower half of her face, her eyes crinkling as if she were smiling but her red-tinted lips remained turned downward. 

"And now, she will excuse herself and he'll return to the other lords with the belief he's wooed her over." 

Lady Ellisha curtsied and spoke to the lord with a polite smile before whirling around on her heel and walking away from the Lannister with an exasperated stare directed toward her giggling friends. Lord Jason smirked smugly, just as predicted, and strolled over to the small group of men consisting of his twin and other eligible bachelors making use of the celebrations to search for a wife. Rhaenyra laughed when he gestured in Lady Ellisha's direction and the other lords gave impressed nods. 

"Truly, Rhaenyra, you will find all sorts of entertainment at these sorts of things." (Y/N) told her with a pleased chuckle, swirling a goblet full of wine while his keen eyes flickered around the room hosting a feast in honor of Prince Aemond's first nameday in search of other courtiers making fools of themselves. "The newly man-grown and widowed lords always offer the best sights. Lord Jason has irritated most of the ladies he's spoken to thus far. Rumors say the Westerlings may offer up their Johanna to him for a taste of that Lannister coin." 

"Poor girl." Rhaenyra shook her head and clicked her tongue, searching the crowds for the young woman with a head of brown ringlets until she spotted her standing near the rest of her family. "Lord Jason is..."

"Something."

The two shared a laugh and buried their noses into their cups when the other courtiers glanced in their direction, giggling like children and nearly choking on the wine when they accidentally inhaled some. Rhaenyra coughed into her fist and wiped a droplet of wine off her nose, her lips outstretched into a wide smile that made her cheeks ache and flush when others gave them questioning looks. (Y/N) shook his head through snickers and dapped at his lips with his handkerchief, his eyes drifting away from her and locking elsewhere. Rhaenyra barely had to glance in the direction to know who had captured his attention when his smile and gaze turned to resemble a lovesick puppy.  

Ever since the Freys had sent their son and heir to ward at King's Landing at the age of eight, his attention had been completely captured by Lady Alicent Hightower, even as the three of them grew and more ladies expressed their interest in becoming Lady of the Crossing. There'd been a time Rhaenyra had found his interest amusing, if not understandable, but when their trio became a duo, Rhaenyra found her heart fluttering each time they spent time together without the company of the newly made queen. Her amusement faded and twisted with bitterness when (Y/N)'s opinion of Alicent remained despite the glaring circumstances. 

When his attention lingered on Alicent enough to gain a disapproving frown from Otto, Rhaenyra clamped her hand around his wrist and tugged on his arm with a forced smile. She dragged him through the crowd swiftly and out into the hallway where few courtiers lingered, gossiping away from prying ears and taking in the fresh night air. Rhaenyra dipped into the closest hallway before they could be spotted together by them and ushered back where they'd be under supervision, her unrelenting grip forcing him to follow her through the halls of the Keep until she found a lonesome hallway devoid of any courtiers and servants.

"Come now," Rhaenyra laughed breathily, spinning around to face him with twinkling eyes. "There are... other ways to find entertainment, are there not?" 

His head cocked to the side and the smile she'd grown to love stretched across his face. "Certainly."

And despite his attention insistently lying elsewhere, she found joy when it focused solely on her. Especially when it involved her palms pressing into the rough, chilled wall with the skirts of her dark red dress pushed up around her hips and her dusted pink cheek brushing against the wall with each jerk of his hips; and whilst she knew despite the fact it was her skin he squeezed and her neck he kissed, the knowledge it was Alicent he likely thought about bitterly lingered in the back of her mind. 

A hint of metallic landed on her tongue when she dug her teeth into her bottom lip when he pushed within her fully, his shaky breath fanning against her shoulder. She released a shuddered gasp, feeling the bumps on the wall imprinted in her reddened hands as she pulled them away to adjust her dress once he slipped out of her. 

"You grow too emboldened these days, Nyra." He murmured, his hands working on straightening his clothes and ensuring nothing looked amiss. 

"You never complain." Rhaenyra peered over her shoulder at him with a cheeky grin, her fingers brushing the strands of silver clinging to her forehead. She turned on her heel and leaned back against the wall, her chest still rising and falling with heavy breaths. "If it bothers you so," She continued, her tone threatening to shake with her words. "I'm certain Father would not be opposed to a marriage with House Frey."

His lips pressed together, the corners of his brows twitching downward into a furrow. "You know as much as anyone else that I do not desire marriage, Rhaenyra, not now. I enjoy the freedom of doing whatever I please with whomever I please."

Her jaw ticked. "Do you desire freedom or do you perhaps lie in waiting for Queen Alicent to desire you?" She questioned sharply, unable to contain to stop the flush of anger from passing over her. "She's the Queen now, (Y/N). She has duties to uphold for the sake of the Realm- Gods, she has children with my father! She will never look at you the way you desire."

"And what makes you believe I'll look at you in the way you desire, Rhaenyra? You promised this would remain as nothing more than ventures of youth, that we'd laugh about it when we grew old and gray. I.. I do not know what I feel for you but it compares little to what I feel for Alicent."

Rhaenyra's lips twisted up tightly and a watery glaze passed over her eyes that she furiously blinked away. "Why must it always be her?" She spat, grasping the skirts of her dress and storming down the hall despite his calls for her.

His fruitless hope had always been as pitying as Rhaenyra's but the Gods always proved to have their favorites. 

Sleep oozed out of his system slowly, his senses beginning to pick up the faint bustle of city life and the whistling wind. His eyes parted, vision focusing first on the intricate designs of the pillow smushed against his cheek before noticing his wife sat up on the bed. He released a quiet, tired sigh and licked his chapped lips, sluggishly shifting around to lie on his back before he reached out to press his palm into her bare hip, fingers tenderly massaging the flesh there.

"What is it?" He asked, still drowsy as he battled the urge to flutter his eyes shut. 

"Nothing, darling," Alicent slumped back into the mattress with a soft exhale, her auburn curls sprawling out around the pillow beneath her and her eyes flickering over the familiar stone ceiling. She crinkled her nose at the exhaustion still clinging to her body and lolled her head to the side to peer at her sleepy husband with a tender smile. "Good morrow."

"Good morrow." He responded with a yawn and scooted closer to her, her body naturally drawing closer to the warmth of his skin and the sweetness of his touch. His fingers grazed the side of her face, tucking back a frizzy curl and watching the way she leaned into his hand. "Sleep well?"

Alicent exhaled heavily, her bottom lip slightly jutting out. "With each passing moon, comfortability becomes fleeting." 

With a thoughtful hum, (Y/N) carefully moved and leaned over her, lowering down to press fluttering kisses down her chin and jawline to her neck and collarbone. She chuckled softly and ran her hands over his arms, sighing delicately when he pressed a kiss in the valley of her sore chest. The rest of her body ached dully, her ankles and feet especially, but the soreness and exhaustion would eventually fade, they knew that well.

Perhaps a little more eagerly, he moved further down and a twinkle passed over his eyes as he kissed her protruding belly. (Y/N) pressed his lips against the skin right below her belly button and waited a few moments before their little one rewarded him with a swift kick, his eyes immediately crinkling with glee. "Be kind to your mother." He scolded half-heartedly, his palms pressing against the underside of her belly. "She'll need all the rest she can get to welcome you into this world." 

She sighed again. "After this little one, I'm afraid I'll only be capable of producing one more. I grow weary of laboring." 

"Two is a fine number of children, and they'll hardly be lonely with their other siblings." He nodded, pressing another kiss to the belly and pushing himself upward to lie at her side once more. His arms curled around her, her strands of hair tickling his cheek and jaw. "Speaking of their siblings, Rhaenyra will expect us to speak with her after we break our fasts. Aegon must find his place in court before she loses her patience with him." 

"Mmm," Alicent's eyes fluttered shut and he chuckled. "Yes, yes... and there's the dual wedding for the twins and her boys as well as the discussion of who Aemond should wed; one of the Four Storms or a Lannister girl." She lifted a hand and rubbed the bridge of her nose, her eyes parting when he gently kissed her cheek. It oft' felt as if she remained as Queen rather than the future Lady of the Crossing with each letter and plea that reached them in the Riverlands. 

"At the very least, you will have enough time to spend a day with Helaena and her children." Her husband reminded her lightly, taking her hand in his and brushing his lips over her knuckles. 

She smiled. "Yes, you're right." 

Once they began their morning, the servants glided into their temporary apartments to begin their duties of bringing them food and helping them dress. (Y/N) drew his attention away from adjusting one of the rings on his fingers to peer over his shoulder, his eyes dragging over the gown Alicent wore in the muted blue color typical of House Frey. The tone brought out the auburn of her hair, making the delicate curls the servants carefully styled more apparent. A smile graced his lips and he cut the distance across the room to kiss the top of her head. 

Before he could speak, the doors to their bedchambers parted and a guard stepped inside. "Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen, Your Grace, My Lord," The guard announced, dipping his head and waiting for Rhaenyra to step inside before he, along with the rest of the servants, swiftly stepped outside to allow them privacy. 

It'd been exactly a year since either of them had laid eyes upon Rhaenyra; exactly a year since (Y/N) received Otto Hightower's begrudge blessing to wed Alicent without Rhaenyra's knowledge and announced his intentions before a council unaware of the tense stare he received throughout. The withering frown on her face when they departed for the Twins had been enough to keep him from visiting King's Landing, but with things having drastically improved between his wife and their old friend, he hardly wished to get in between their friendship. 

"Alicent," Rhaenyra greeted softly, dropping her intertwined hands and approaching them with a gentle smile. Alicent rose from her chair with unsteady feet and clasped her hand over (Y/N)'s arm, using him as her support as she twisted around to face her friend. "How good it is to see you again." Rhaenyra took her hands into hers, her gaze dropping down to her bump and brows lifting. "And in... quite a state. I am.. so very pleased for you both."

"Ruling becomes you, Rhaenyra," Alicent told her warmly, her fingers squeezing around her friend's. "I look forward to a long and peaceful reign, and I certainly cannot wait to see what grandchildren the twins will bring forth once they marry the boys. I hear Prince Joffery has already been arranged to wed one of the Manderly girls. It is a blessing to see one's children experience the love of parenthood."

"Yes, well," Rhaenyra chuckled, brushing away a strand from her face and briefly meeting (Y/N)'s eyes. "Jace is all nerves right now. He desires everything to be absolutely perfect for the dual weddings. I cannot imagine how he will be once Baela falls with child."

Alicent laughed lightly and retracted her hands to curl them around (Y/N)'s arm, her head tilting up to gaze at him. "(Y/N) was quite nervous at the beginning, were you not, darling? Baela will grow to appreciate it as I did, I think. It feels nice to be taken care of, especially by one's husband."

In an attempt not to wince, (Y/N) offered Rhaenyra a smile instead. "How is the search for a husband, Rhaenyra? I'm certain the council has been urging you to wed for some time now. I hear you've had many suitors, Marq Ambrose and Jon Roxton among them. Mother believes a strong consort would do well for the Realm." 

"I'm afraid most of the fine men have married and left the marriage mart looking rather bleak." Rhaenyra's tight smile made him bite his inner cheek. "I have little need for more children, regardless. I have named my heir and he will soon produce an heir of his own if the Gods are kind to us."

"I'm certain they will be," Alicent assured her, her eyes crinkled with fondness. "You should come with me to the Sept, Rhaenyra. We could pray to the Mother for the safe delivery of this babe and any future grandchildren we have." 

"I'll certainly attempt to make time for it, but I believe your current grandchildren are eagerly expecting you." Rhaenyra reached out, running her palm over Alicent's arm and smiling sweetly. 

With a gentle kiss to his cheek, Alicent bid her goodbye to Rhaenyra and strode past her, her once elegant and graceful walk now slow as she wobbled and kept close to the servants that quickly flocked to her side. (Y/N) watched her go, swallowing thickly when Rhaenyra flicked her hand and the guard shut the doors behind his wife. He turned his attention onto the new Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, the very one whose hand he'd forced before the Small Council. 

"Alicent is right, Rhaenyra. Ruling becomes you." He spoke quietly, ears picking up the quiet scoff that slipped past her lips. "I know we parted on... uncertain terms but-"

"Uncertain? Is that what you call it? You gave me little warning, little time to process! When my father died, I needed you by my side but you were too busy courting a freshly made widow to pay me an ounce of care." Rhaenyra sneered, her long braid and dark red dress swaying with her movements as she spun around on her heels. "Princess Rhaenys and Lord Corlys were there but they were more keen on ensuring the coronation progressed swiftly and my ascension to the throne went without trouble; I needed you... and you weren't there."

His teeth caught his lip, digging and lightly tugging at the skin. There was a semblance of guilt in his chest, an acknowledgment that he had indeed ignored his duties as a friend to seek out Alicent instead. But he'd been worried an ascension to the throne would mean a marriage proposal between him and Rhaenyra would only be eagerly accepted by his parents. He'd used all the fuss over the coronation and ascension to keep himself out of Rhaenyra's sights, they both knew that well. 

"You have my apologies, Rhaenyra. I did believe you'd find comfort in your children and the Velaryons, however. I hoped you would, I swear it. I believed leaving you in their hands would have been better. Alicent had no one but scheming men and children grieving in their own ways-"

"Were you not a scheming man as well? How long did it take for you to realize no one would stand in the way? Before you crawled to her doorstep like a mutt." Rhaenyra questioned bitterly as she tilted her body to look upon him, the accusation lining her tone making his jaw clench.

"I did not seduce her or- or take advantage of a grieving woman, Rhaenyra. I offered her a shoulder to cry on, to release all she held onto these years. I asked for her hand in marriage, yes, but I asked her first before the thought of asking Otto Hightower crossed my mind. If she had rejected it, I would have left it at that, but she did not. She accepted my marriage proposal; she agreed to move to the Twins instead of remaining here; she desired to have a child." 

"I would have done all those things if given the chance!" 

(Y/N)'s eyes squeezed shut as her voice ricocheted off the walls of the apartments and likely spilled out into the hallway for anyone passing by to hear. He heard her quiet pants, the muffled chatter outside the walls, the orders from the courtyards drifting with the wind. He parted his eyes to look at her when she moved, the ends of her dress grazing the floor until she stopped before him. Her fingers flexed with uncertainty before reaching out to brush over his hands. 

"I waited." She said quietly, voice barely audible. "When Laenor died, I waited.. for a crow, a messenger, your presence.. I waited for you to return from the Riverlands and instead... you paid your respects and left it there. You did everything I desired from you.. but with Alicent. Why couldn't have it been me? What could she have possibly given you that I could not? You could have become King Consort! Your firstborn would have been a Prince of the Seven Kingdoms-"

"I am not Daemon, Rhaenyra, I do not care for what riches or victories one provides. Alicent is... Alicent is sunshine on a cool midday.. she is a cup of warm tea by the fireplace during the cruelest of winters.. she is a plate of freshly baked sweets or- or a tender embrace on a somber day. Rhaenyra, you are the lashing wind during a storm and waves bashing into rocks on a cliff. You are fun and exciting but I prefer calm over chaos. She is the calm to my chaos." 

Rhaenyra stared at him silently, her violet eyes glimmering with unshed tears. "I am not a child anymore." She whispered shakily. 

"You are Queen Rhaenyra of Westeros and mother to three excellent young men." His hand raised and pressed against her cheek. "And I will soon be Lord of the Crossing and father to the little one my wife is currently carrying. If I had desired to be King Consort or simply desired to be your husband, I would have pursued it years ago. It is best we leave this in the past, Rhaenyra. Nothing will come from it now."

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I think another reason why I get rather annoyed when people hate on ToA Apollo is because how hypocritical their criticisms are.

I just saw a post talking about how great it is that Annabeth gets to show a lot of emotion, especially by crying. I also recall moments where she got frustrated or angry, and I found myself absolutely agreeing!

But then my thoughts turned to Apollo, another character who shows a lot of emotion.

But you know what he’s called for being frustrated, or upset, or for crying?

Whiny. He’s called whiny.

Apollo gets frustrated when he’s unable to perform something (archery) he used to be extremely good at. He’s upset that he can no longer use a bow correctly.

And people call him whiny for that. Apparently, those people have never experienced, let alone heard of The Gifted-Kid, something all Gifted-Kids (hello, tis me, Gifted-Kid since 4th grade RIP) can relate to Apollo over.

You were really good at something but all of a sudden you can no longer perform it as well? You’re not hitting your usual mark?

Well too bad, according to the fan base, you should shut up and not be so awfully whiny! It’s just archery!

(That was obviously in jest but you get my point.)

Additionally, Apollo never complains about important things. He complains about having to walk, but not the injury that’s literally turning him into a zombie and physically tormenting him.

That post really made me think about this, and then I asked myself; “Why? Why are people’s thoughts so different on Annabeth v Apollo showing emotion?”

It became apparent rather quickly, if you ask me.

Annabeth is a woman. Of course she should be able to show emotion! also maybe deep-seated sexism of ‘women are emotional’

Apollo is a man. And God forbid men show emotion I guess smh so also sexism

Because think about it. How many of the RRVerse male protagonists were allowed to cry? To be fully, and undeniably, upset?

I can only remember Frank crying on the plane after his grandmother’s presumed death, and Grover sniffling/getting teary-eyed in PJO. I don’t recall Percy, Jason, Leo, or Nico ever crying, or really having powerful bursts of emotion.

Yes, yes, Percy and Nico have both gotten mad and unleashed their fury upon someone, but that’s not what I’m talking about here.

I’m talking about letting them feel, letting them be emotional.

Not a burst of anger. But real, genuine character-driven emotion.

The fact that I can only name Frank and Grover from the previous two series is truly saddening.

Apollo gets to feel. To let his emotions flow freely. He whines, yes, but he also gets frustrated, he gets upset, and most of all he cries.

That all makes him a real character, someone people can relate to.

I’ll admit I’m a rather emotional person too. I have a quick temper, and more often than not the water-works come on real quick when I get upset. It’s a normal emotional response, but it can be difficult to work with, especially when you’re trying to stay calm.

Apollo is the first RRVerse protagonist to be allowed to have feelings— strong ones, even. And I can relate to that. There’s a reason why Apollo, Reyna, and Annabeth are all favorites of mine, and that’s because I see myself in them.

Annabeth is prideful. I can be too. She gets obsessed over her work. I do that too. Hates spiders? Oh hell yeah.

Reyna gave me someone to connect with over my sexuality. Ignore that Rick mixed what aro and ace are for a moment please She really gave my demiromantic self somebody to relate with, because the lack of aro rep is criminal. and no the Hunters are not aro rep

Apollo is emotional. He’s made mistakes and wants to do better.

Who wouldn’t see themselves in him? I certainly do.

And yet, he gets called whiny for having the literal rug pulled out from under him again and again, and he doesn’t even let himself complain over what he should, absolutely complain about!

Idk. I think there’s a lot to be said about how this fandom treats emotional characters, especially based on gender.

I guess this is all to say don’t judge a fictional character, because you’re judging a real person too.

And real people have feelings, you know.