always in my villian era because life sucks

Emma D'Arcy as Rhaenyra Targaryen

During her tour in search of a husband, Rhaenyra arrives in Oldtown, and that might have been the last straw for her waning patience. She is on the verge of making a scene and returning to King’s Landing, despite the fury that would generate in her father, and whatever Alicent and Otto would say about them, fueling the rumors that their web of allies and traitors were spreading throughout the realm.

But, while she is completely disinterested in the grand welcome banquet happening around her, her gaze settles on an interesting sight: Ormund Hightower and Gwayne Hightower, cousins, sons of the Hand of the King and the heir to Oldtown, and close family—given that, as far as she knew, they had been raised together—totally indifferent to one another.

Nyra straightens up a bit in her seat and looks to her left; Rosling Strong, her lady-in-waiting, leans in close. Rhaenyra gives her a precise instruction.

By the time she retires from the banquet, has changed into her sleeping clothes, and unraveled her braids, Rosling has gathered all the information she wanted. She reveals something that had not reached her ears in the Red Keep: Otto and his older brother do not seem to have the best relationship. Otto resents his older brother for being born the firstborn when his ego tells him he is the smarter one, and Lord Hobert believes his brother flies too close to the sun and does not respect his place as the second son. None of this is a secret in the city, but it hadn't left those walls because the family network is loyal outside of them. Although he seems satisfied with his niece's marriage to the king, given the prestige it grants his House, there seems to be a latent tension, as it was considered that the new Hightower queen should have been the daughter of the Lord of Oldtown.

And all of this is reflected in their children. Although raised together, the children of Otto and those of Hobert are not that close; they even look at each other askance when the occasion permits.

It is also said that Ormund, the golden heir, is a man of great ambition himself—more similar to his uncle than his father would care to admit—and considers his cousins to have the same character flaw as his uncle Otto.

Rhaenyra remembers the relationship between her father and her uncle, the way they came and went over the years. She has lost count of the times Daemon has been exiled from the capital and welcomed back as if nothing had happened. But at the end of the day, Daemon follows his king’s word, even though he has a tendency to question him too loudly and evidently. Perhaps they should apply Oldtown’s hermetic lock on their arguments, but that is something to occur to her later. She will deal with it later. She will deal with it later. Her own thought, decided and final, surprises her. Rhaenyra looks at her reflection in the hand mirror she holds while her ladies-in-waiting untangle her hair and apply oils, massaging her scalp. She sees herself for the first time, and she does not see a princess; she sees the future queen. Her mind will never be the same again; she will leave so much behind, she will leave behind the Nyra her mother knew and loved. But she cannot mourn her; she can only pray that her mother would be proud of her, or at least, understand her.

Rhaenyra will not finish her tour, but she decides that this will be the final stop. And it doesn't take her long to achieve it; she doesn't even have to speak to any of the many lords of Oldtown who were lining up to try to impress her, because at dawn, dressed in her sleeping clothes with her robe half-tied, Ormund Hightower sees her on one of the balconies while he is heading out for his morning rounds, overseeing the security of the city walls. And that is all it takes for the princess to know that he hasn't been able to get her out of his head since then.

A couple more dinners follow, where Ormund’s seat moves a little closer to hers each time. And an afternoon of meeting several other candidates, with the young heir of Oldtown kindly whispering insults about each of the suitors offering themselves (which, to Nyra's delight, was genuinely funny, and she didn't have to fake her laughter at any moment). She knows she has him.

The expression on Otto’s face when Rhaenyra enters with his older brother and his nephew, beneath the gaze of all the courtiers and her father, the king—who had been ready to be disappointed because the letter she sent said nothing about having found a husband, only that she was returning to King’s Landing early, ending the tour a few stops before its official finale—is priceless. She did it on purpose, of course. She wanted Otto to fill his mouth talking more about her in that soft tone he used with her father, and then be unable to say anything bad when she arrived with the reality.

If she could, she would have brought a painter to capture that moment. But no, she arrived with all the innocence of a young princess who had fallen in love and rushed home to tell her father about it. Ormund, dressed in all the gallantry and pomp of his house, stands two steps behind her at all times, as protocol requires, and kneels with humble intent before the king, expressing his own feelings about the situation when asked.

Otto does not stay quiet, and that is even better, because when Hobert expresses to his younger brother and the king that his sons could renounce their inheritance if the king required it for the marriage—as the love between him and the princess is clearly greater than duty, and because his son would serve the realm, which is more important than his house, and they have other children to take the heir's place—the king happily declares such a thing is unnecessary. He happily announces the marriage right there.

Ormund kisses her hand and spins her in the air, and Nyra lets out a royal laugh of pure joy.

“Your grandson was not going to be king, Otto. The king clearly has no intention of naming him heir, and this union is more appropriate for our house. My grandchildren will be kings and queens, but don't worry, we will look after your daughter's princes as is fitting. The future queen is not cruel; she will be benevolent if you behave,” Hobert says to his younger brother among the night’s festivities, and it reaches Rhaenyra’s ears thanks to her servants, to whom she had gifted jewels and increased their pay as a celebration of her engagement, thus beginning her plan to silence the whispers that followed her.

Alicent, her face now permanently sad, and her voice almost inaudible, gives her congratulations to the princess and her cousin in person. Nyra accepts the congratulations with an expressionless face, still not knowing how to feel about her or how things had ended up.

Y/N: It’s okay! The weight of the rubble crushing my body is pressing down on my wounds AND preventing me from moving at all!

Bruce: Y/N

Bruce: Sweetheart

Soap with dogs!

Gaz with dogs!

Price with dogs!

you find him lying on the couch, head slumped against multiple pillows, and a blanket loosely wrapped around his body. a trip hazard if he were to get up, so to speak. the lights are dimmed, he’s got one arm tucked beneath his head while the other hangs off the couch. he’s not asleep, that much you know. “baby?” you call out, daughter happily tugging on your shirt and babbling into your neck.

satoru makes a soft sound, a greeting when words don’t come easily to him certain nights. he doesn’t move, doesn’t take his blindfold off, he just lies there contentedly while you walk over and carefully place your daughter onto his chest. she doesn’t stop her happy babbling, but now she’s with her dad and she’s cooing softly and slowly crawling up his chest; the arm hanging off the couch now wrapped around her loosely to make sure she doesn’t fall. “hi, sweetheart.” he keeps his voice soft and quite to try and drown out the throbbing migraine he’s dealing with.

“baaba!” her small, chubby hand pats at his cheek first, then it moves up slowly, and your eyes track every single one of her movements, especially when her fingers find the black material around his eyes. tugging it down fails on her first attempt, you know by the way she whines sadly and tries again. each time she can’t get it down, you can see the way satoru’s lip twitches in amusement just slightly. “dada!” a small hiccup sound emits from her, and finally, she tugs the fabric down just enough to see his bright blue eyes.

“dada’s here, baby, i promise.” satoru smiles at her.

from your spot on the other couch, satoru isn’t sure when you even sat down, you notice the way he strains his head up just enough for her, see’s the way his eyes flutter closed more than usual, and you can definitely see the way he’s trying his best not to let out any sounds of discomfort knowing how badly his headaches get sometimes. but she doesn’t know that, your daughter doesn’t know anything about the stuff he keeps from her, the stuff he tries to leave at the front door before coming home just to keep her safe. all she knows is that satoru is her daddy. “baby, maybe we should let daddy keep the blindfold on for a little bit longer, hm?”

she doesn’t pay attention to your words; she just places her small, delicate hands on his cheeks and squishes them carefully, giggling to herself. “s’okay, baby, don’t mind her taking it off to look at me for a while.” he shoots you a tired smile and finds himself laughing quietly when she blows a raspberry on his cheek suddnely. “thank you, sweet girl, i needed that.” his fingers wrap around one of her wrists and kisses her hand while moving the the hand from behind his head to trace the side of her face slowly. “i love you, you’re everything.”

she doesn’t understand what he’s saying fully, not yet, but she smiles and giggles happily like she does anyway.

his eyes droop again, and this time you can’t stop yourself from reaching over to tug the material back up over his eyes when he does wince, your heart breaking at your daughter’s distressed cries of it being back over his face and no longer able to see his eyes. “m’sorry, sweetheart, but daddy needs it right now.” you frown and wipe the tears already falling down her cheeks.

“daddy’s still here, angel.” satoru promises again, placing his hand on her back and murmuring soft words against her head when she tucks hers into the crook of his neck with a sigh. comfortable and safe. 

quietly, you pull another blanket from the other couch, unfold it, and carefully place it over the two of them as best you can. you thread fingers through his white hair, and you smile fondly to yourself when he’s leaning into your touch as best he can without causing your daughter to fuss. “m’gonna get you some water, honey, do you want something for your head?” 

“just the water, baby, thank you.”

he hears you go and his grip on his daughter tightens just slightly. her soft cooing sounds ground him, keep him above sea level and he listens to the way her breathing gets softer, her body relaxing more against his and the way her small fingers , which have a mind of their own, blindly grip the material of his blindfold. 

“i love you,” he whispers against her forehead. “i know you don’t understand me right now, sweetheart, and that’s okay, just need you to know i love you, mommy loves you and we’ll protect you no matter what. i will do anything to keep you safe, cross my heart.” satoru sniffles and pulls the blanket you put over them, over her small body a little more. always wanting her to be warm.

by the time you came back with his water a few minutes later, your feet came to a halt when you took in the sight of your husband and daughter fast asleep together. smiling to yourself, without making too much noise, you place the glass of water on the coffee table before sitting down on the oak. 

lightly threading you fingers through his hair again, you lean down enough to kiss both of them on their heads, doing everything you can to not wake them up. “goodnight my babies,” you pause, tucking the other half of the blanket under his chin. “i love you both so much.”