No, because Luke saying his father is still alive after Aemond insults him over Ser Harwin's death will never not be funny. He really said idk about y'all, but my dad is grieving in the ocean. Idk who you're referring to, but unlike your dad, mine isn't at death's doorstep. He's quite well, sir.
He knew who his father was, and it wasn't that strange man keeping his baby brother away from him.
Had Laenor stayed, Luke and Joffery would've been confirmed Daddy's boys, no biology.
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cw: happy tears and tickle fights, birthday celebrations and other things. unedited sawry. ‼️ FIC SPOILERS PAST THIS PORTION OF THE CONTENT WARNING ‼️ pregnancy.
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hajime’s birthday this year is different.
you don’t celebrate on the day of, contrary to your tradition of keeping it free no matter what. instead, you decide on the weekend, taking time to prepare his gift while he’s out of town.
the sunday morning starts out slow, a late wake to his usual 5:00 a.m. runs. you shift beside him, turning to snuggle deeper into his hold.
you weren’t able to wait for him last night, any hour past midnight simply impossible for you to keep up with these days.
your breath puffs out in a long exhale, tickling his collarbone.
he pulls you closer when you move, tucking his nose into the crown of your head. it’s something you both do, you’ve noticed—breathing each other in the moment you return to one another.
the celebration today is not lost on you, but you take in these few silent moments with him for just a bit longer.
when he stirs, squeezing you tighter as he mumbles a low ‘morning’, you peer up to kiss his chin. he’s ticklish there, you know, especially when your lips catch on the bits of stubble grown a few days after he shaves.
it takes longer for you both to get out of bed because of that, a tickle fight ensuing as hajime sneakily crawls his fingers up your armpits, blowing raspberries at the spot right below your ears.
you slip into the bathroom that way—a little clumsy and a lot giggly. then you crouch low, opening the cabinet under the sink; hidden in it is your gift for him, a flat rectangle wrapped in kraft paper and a green bow.
it’s the first thing in your agenda today, you’ve decided, unable to wait until he receives it at the end of the day, like you’d originally planned.
hajime’s propped up against the headboard when you step back into your bedroom, blanket scrunched at his hip. you’re no fan of the season’s heat, but you thank god it’s summer, because at least, you’re met with the view of his exposed chest every morning.
he holds an arm out to welcome you back in, letting you rest your legs across his lap as he cradles your back.
“your gift,” you whisper, holding out the wrapped rectangle, “open it first. that’s the first thing on our agenda today.”
he chuckles, taking the soft rectangle from your hands while kissing your temple, “thanks, babe. you didn’t have to.”
you watch eagerly, tucking yourself into his side as you wrap an arm around his waist. he tears through the wrapper but sets aside the bow, knowing you like to recycle them when you have the chance.
hajime is a simple man, and at the sight of his favorite brand of socks, he lights up at the addition of one more to his already-full drawer of them.
he turns to you, about to pepper your face with a bunch of kisses but—
“check the hem, i got something done to it.” you giggle.
he looks confused for a moment before he turns them over, plain white save for the dark green letters running around its ankle garters.
there’s another reason you decided to celebrate his birthday this weekend, on the third sunday of june.
he deciphers the word, reading each letter: p-a-p-a, and you can see the cogs turning in his brain before he immediately whips his head to face you.
“you’re—?”
you nod.
there’s something indescribable in his eyes, emotion welling up as they gloss over dark olive green—it makes you want to cry, too.
damn all these hormones.
“happy birthday, papa.” you sniffle, smiling wide, “and happy father’s day.”
(after a whole lot of tears, and even more kissing, you show hajime the tests you took while he was away. he tells you you should have told him, that he would have come home, but you shake your head.
it’s well worth it, seeing his reaction to two things he can celebrate today.)
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CrookedStar and Leafpool
Two cats who put loyalty to their clan above everything!
Who gave up so much for their family and loved them with their whole hearts no matter how much it hurt!
Cats who were lead astray and screwed over by dead people they trusted, who were lead in so many different directions by so many forces and endured it all because they just wanted to do the right thing!
Cats who would genuinely do ANYTHING for their siblings, who were so so proud of them.
They were shamed by those closest to them for perceived shortcomings they could do nothing about!
They stood up for themselves and decided to forge their own paths!
AUGH I'M SO NORMAL ABOUT THEM!! If CrookedStar lived a stupidly long time, she'd remind him of his daughter and would've stood up for her during HollyLeaf's speech.
If the Erins weren't COWARDS they would've had CrookedStar talk to LeafPool in her dreams. They would talk for hours and hours and he'd be such a good listener. I think they deserved to be besties.
He would've loved MothFlight and Leafpool's relationship.
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