#oc story golden child

[nartblartmallcop]

happy pride month from your friends at moonshine med <3

[therealcallmekd]

Like Mother Like Child, I Look Into The Mirror And See Your Face. It Disgusts Me.

beech translation plus textless under cut v

AND I WONDERED WHO CREATED THIS VIOLENCE? THIS RAGE? FROM WHERE DID IT ARISE?

I GAZED UPON MY OWN CLAWS BLOODIED AND CRUEL

[nartblartmallcop]

My sky themed brothers i am crushing them in my hands :)

Feels like shit and starts squeezing the dedicated "trauma turned into OCs" OCs like those panic Pete toys

[hel-phoenyx]

A little essay on lysarean generational trauma, or why my brain is rotting away

Note : I will gloss over some events that are spoiler and there's probably many more I don't know about characters that aren't mine

Odin II, Matilda III and Kaizarz belong to @corneille-but-not-the-author

Generational trauma in the Kraken Coast royal families is even more rooted than the Vanasul tree.

Hey, that's a good introduction. Well, without context, it sounds weird. The Vanasul is a special brand of tree that was created, or gifted by War, to Hrotheim IX Voldsterein, one of the greatest Kraken Kings to ever lived. He's the one that started the bloodline, and all of his descendants bear the spell Heir of Vanasul, allowing them to enjoy a formidable vitality and mild regeneration.

It's not risky to assume everything started with Hrotheim, even though the only thing he left behind is his legacy. But for the sake of my point, I'm gonna travel, far, far further in time. At the beginning of the civil war, or even a bit before the Tyrant accessed power. When the family on the throne bore the name af Mundir.

Because the while trauma cristallised with them.

It started with Hrogni af Mundir. Born at a time the royalty was not very well liked, under the yoke of the Seraphims, the religion then leading all of Ink. Controlled by Adam Frosilaen, first son of the Frosilaen, but that's another story. My point is, it was not a good time for the Kraken Coast. Their glory was waning, the royal families had a lot of rivals, and it was hard living in there.

It was in that climate Hrogni accessed to the throne. Only son of the af Mundir, heir, born of a cruel father that only cared about his own power and was terrified of the rival lineage, the only descendants of Hrotheim at the time who obtained a name : The Laangfisk.

Particularily of Odin Laangfisk, only a year older than Hrogni, that bore the same name as the king.

So Odin Ist inculqued to his son fear, hate and cunning. He wanted him to be able to keep the throne, and not be worth of it. Hrogni, at the time, was an intelligent man, and quickly understood what his father was doing was wrong ; he saw the people's suffering, he heard about the rise and fall of the Seraphims, soon he understood he had to do everything in his power to not be like his father.

He hated his cousin Odin, when he was a teen. Because his father told him so. But Odin liked him, a lot, and that combined to the realisation his father was wrong on every way ended up making them friends.

Friends that got more and more tight-knit despite everything.

Hrogni accessed the throne hellbent on not making the same mistakes as his father. He didn't access the throne ready. He was proud, at the time, proud and brave, smiling like the sun because his father always frowned, and tried so hard to be the Good King Hrogni.

He saw civil war. at first fought against the Tyrant, told Faloi to fuck off. He wasn't the one that started the civil war, but he joined on the other side.

War destroys a kingdom. And Hrogni was not prepared for that. He was not prepared for the weight on his shoulders.

Despite everything, he ended up following the lessons on his father. Grew paranoïd. Hopeless. Cruel. Did everything in his power to keep his place. But still kept Odin Laangfisk with him. Because they were friends.

He was afraid of the rest of his bloodline but still trusted him with his life. Rejected everyone but him. It is said even his wife, the Norn at the time, was not as close of him as Odin was.

There is a certain tragedy in trying to become everything your father wasn't to end up far, far worse.

Hrogni was one of the most hated kings, because of a growing cowardice, the fact he ended up submitting to Faloi, and how he was crueler to his own people than to the enemies. People hated him, and him, feeling justified in his actions, continued to do worse and worse.

Even the birth of his children didn't stray him from the path of the monster. In fact, his heart closed for good after the death in childbirth of his wife, giving him his only daughter.

The five years following, he was just tired. Following on what he did but never adding more. He was, during those years, a surprisingly good father, wanting in the depths of his heart to at least do something his own father didn't do.

And then, tired, he decided to put an end to the Krakenese monarchy, only seeing death and agony in that system.

Forsaking every tradition, everything Hrotheim ever fought for.

Destroying was was the heart of the Kraken Coast.

The day he announced his resolution, Odin killed him. Plunged a sword in his back, decapitated him, and cried cradling his body.

He was now king by right of bloodline and coup, and his first action was to once again revolt against Faloi (that was, if you can't figure out, not pleased). He tried to do everything in his power to make the Coast great again (shoo, Trump, not you). He fought a lot, build a reputation on always being at the frontlines, becaus Hrogni wasn't.

Of course his children were perfectly equilibred. Cue his son and daughter falling in love with each other with no adult supervision and starting to become crazy, especially Matilda that had to keep everything for herself. But that's a story for later.

The problem with Odin's coup is that it was unnessesary cruel. While Odin was crying on his friend, his victim's corpse, the people he brought with him let loose. They killed Hrogni's two sons to make sure Odin wouldn't have any rivals and the only one who was left alife, thanks to Hrogni's advisor Brynhild von Zanaderstrassen, was his youngest child, his daughter Karan.

Karan is a bundle of trauma. Even more than survivor's guilt. Because the day Odin II killed Hrogni, she was hiding in the council room, spying on her father. She saw him die at the hands of "uncle Odin" and could only take from his corpse an earring, engraved with the af Mundir's sigil, and the sword of the af Mundir lineage, Dainsleif, the Bane of Life.

Brynhild saved her in extremis from the nobility's anger and Odin, that was already not overjoyed to see the other children die, managed to strike a compromise with her and them. Karan would stay alive, but she'd have to forsake her dynasty name and be raised as less than nobility. Meaning, she could not learn how to read, write of fight.

When you grow up as a princess, being just a refugee in a family that's not yours mark spirits a lot. Karan never forgave Odin for what he's done, but she was even more furious at the new prince and princess, Matilda and her brother. Because they had everything she hadn't and were loved the way she should have been loved.

Most of all they had each other while Karan was deprieved of her brothers.

That stung. Badly. She grew up in cold hate, forced to hide her name, hide the fact she could use the Heir of Vanasul spell, hide her birthright. She was by decree helpless and could not fight against Matilda for the throne, she didn't have any supports except for Brynhild, that was by chance still listened to by Odin, she felt utterly alone.

She never had the occasion to forget everything could have been different.

Over time, she fell in love with Brynhild's only son, Harald. A bit of a himbo, extremely good fighter, earned his own title, the Blood Warrior. Vampiric bloodline sorcerer with a mastery of Blood Domain that he used to go berserk. Heavily respected at the Coast for his fighting spirit and his ascendance.

He brought a bit of happiness in her life and they married while Matilda was going insane for loving her brother in a way sisters shouldn't. I'm pretty sure jealousy was there on her side, but that's not either confirmed nor important.

What's more important is that Karan ended up birthing two children from Harald. Her eldest daughter, Kriss, who was like her denied of posers except the Heir of Vanasul, but could, because of her father, access opportunities Karan couldn't.

And then her son.

That where the generational trauma really, really kicks in.

Because Tyr was born with powers. And not any powers. Ocean's powers. The most respected kind in the Kraken Coast equal to War's.

He was proven to be a dragon descendant, was the son of Harald the Blood Warrior and the grandson of Brynhild von Zanaderstrassen, and most of all he was an af Mundir. He was the perfect candidate to the throne.

And by Gods he was gonna take it back.

Meanwhile Matilda continued to grow crazy and two years lated ended up seducing her brother and giving him a child in secrecy. Well, as she was not married and seemed a bit too close of her sibling a lot of people doubted the truth, Karan included, but it was not exactly said out loud.

The child was Kaizarz.

Him, too, had tremendous powers. A prodigious strenght, abilities in War magic, and was quickly deemed a prodigy.

Ironically he has the same birthday as Tyr, just two years later.

That's when the full grooming starts. Matilda ends up losing her brother, only one she cared about, and starts a full descent in madness. At the beginning, she was just depressed and passive, not doing anything in the kingdom, so the council attempted to put her out of the throne to pu Karan and Harald ; it didn't work. She executed them all for high treason and realised she liked the taste of blood.

So blood she shed. Political opponents, foes, even her own people when they dared say a word against her. Her madness spread to all the continent, creating more and more poverty, even accentued by the war. She was starting to go on Hrogni's path, but with even more of a taste with blood. No one could stop her.

She wanted a legend worth Hrotheim's like her father told her and her brother again and again and again, to never forget the glory of the Coast.

At the same time, she realised two things about her son, her only family. One, he was a prodigy, exceptionnaly strong and reasonably intelligent. Second, he was her heir. and in front of her was her political enemy, her nemesis, the af Mundir's head, with a son wielding waves and thunderstorms people already call the Heir of Harkyr.

So to secure her place she trained Kaizarz relentlessly. Tried to make him her puppet. It never really worked, but she did put in his head many harsh lessons such as "a King never shows emotions". I don't think she was truly a mother for him at any time.

On the other side, and I don't know if it's better or worse, Karan made Tyr the instrument of her revenge not by ruthlessness and brute force, but by emotional manipulation and psych warfare she wasn't even aware she was doing.

She gave him Dainsleif, then taught him about its story. Encouraged him to get closer fom Kaizarz. Talked about her downfall. Put a lot of things in his head about being worthy of his name, worthy of his powers. She made him the savior syndrome child that he is and at the same time, she loved him like a mother did.

He didn't realise her emotional manipulation before the Incident, but I won't talk about the Incident anyway.

Point is, both of them grew up as the same kind of weapons, as heirs, as kings. And both of us became friends the exact same way Hrogni and Odin once did.

Probably falling in love at the same time but again, not important.

Their friendship had to be hidden from Matilda and Karan looked at it as a weapon but they were friends. Not able to say anything bloodline related with their family history but friends. Fighting for the throne in a way both of them weren't even aware of but friends.

Even when Matilda repeteadly humiliated Karan to the point she was only invited to the castle to be spit on or to assist at an execution of one of her former supports they were friends.

Not even their mother's mutual hate could separate them.

But it did take its toll and at the same time Kaizarz accessed to regency they began to drift apart. They couldn't see each other as often, and the words of their mothers started filling the gaps the other's absence created. Kaizarz was preparing to be king and Tyr was groomed to commit a coup.

At the same time he grew angrier. Because of the state the country was in. Because he saw his mother being humilated day after day despite her noble blood, something that seemed so important for everyone, before she got poisoned and killed like a nobody. Buried like a nobody, and his father dying of lethargy joined her in the anonymous graveyard even though he was so respected, because he was her husband. He grew angry at the fact her sister, who wanted a child so, so much, hesitated terminating a pregnancy of a man she loved an planned to marry, at twenty-two, because it would be too dangerous for the child to live in that situation.

And he grew angry at Kaizarz that didn't have time to listen to him, or at least appeared to.

Not Kaizarz's fault. He, too, saw the state of his country, and tried to fix it with the powers regents have. But Tyr could only see the tragedies, countless, among his loved ones.

It weighted heavy between them and the Incident didn't make things better, on the contrary. They could have become a new Odin and Hrogni. They still can. But Kaizarz didn't want to let go of his friend. He wanted to be anything but his mother.

Their relationship managed to be rebuiled on fragile basis and everything still stands between them, their grandparents' fate, their mothers's hatred, and their own history. Their trauma is family legacy.

Now the question is will they manage to break the cycle and grow happy together, as the greatest king to ever lived and his most powerful right-hand man, or will Kaizarz take Hrogni's path leaving behind a Tyr not strong enough to be Odin.

[suchacruelcolour]

oc brainrot is bad i made a tag and even a sideblog for them. will i use it after today? probably not. i will also probably stop thinking of them soon

they’ve changed a lot though i can’t believe they’re 4/5 years old now.. laurens design changed quite a bit. lukas…his hair changed slightly.

[mortporter]

NPCs

Helvetica cen Serif - Garlean conscript looking for the lost children of the family she long served. Also font pun.

Daranon Dallemont - Second son of a very minor noble Ishgard family, who'd rather tend to his studies than the family business.

The Mo Tribe - Two shattered branches of the already small tribe band together after the Empire is pushed out from Gyr Abania, intent on picking up the pieces and continuing their harsh way of life.

[mrmicron]

Golden Child (Chapter 1)

This is my first time posting a story that is split into chapters on here. I’m not sure if this will gain any attention, but it wouldn’t hurt to see if it does. There may be some grammatical errors and linguistic errors as well, so feel free to message me and tell me in the ways I messed up! The languages this chapter will contain is Mexican Spanish (with translations provided by my Mexican ride-or-die!) and American English. It might include others, but for the majority of the story line, it’s those two. 

I would love to be able to turn this into a comic eventually, but I’d either have to find an artist to collab with or work on my art skills lol. This is intended for a Young-Adult audience, so anyone under 14, please DNI

Word Count: 1302

All characters are original. Any relations to a person are purely coincidental. 

CW: Mentions of Sexual Harassment, Implied Abusive Relationships, Light Sexual Themes, Violence Against Others, Thoughts of Suicide, Self-Harm, Cursing, Attempted Suicide

 DNI if you are sensitive to these topics

The sound of an alarm woke me from my deep sleep. I groaned into my pillow as I rolled over, swatting my hand around to turn off the annoyance. After a few attempts, I proved successful and turned back into my covers. But, my sleep was short-lived as footsteps approached my door. “Awake from your coma Sleeping Beauty,” called a feminine voice, light, and teasing. I knew it was my mom, so I ignored it. The click of the doorknob reverberated through the room, and something hard hit my back. I yelped and turned around. “What the hell?!” My mom stood a few feet away from me, her arms crossed across her chest, a frown on her face. “You heard me. And I heard the alarm go off, then it stopped. Besides, you have school today mija.” Hispanic moms are something else, and I’m not planning on starting off the day with a sore ass. “Sì Mamì…” I mumbled, sliding out of my comfort space. She turned towards the door and sighed. “Children these days, no respect.” As she headed downstairs, I grabbed my uniform and went into the bathroom to shower. I’d be starting a new school today, for the third time. Apparently, it was the best school in the state, AKA, my last chance. Marie-Jane Academia for the Gifted. It was a private school with a low acceptance rate, and if you were enrolled, you had a guaranteed shot of getting into an Ivy League School. All the more reason for me to go, right? Wrong. It was totally against my will, but seeing as it was my last choice, I had no say. The warm water ran down my body and I released a sigh. My hands ran through my hair, scrubbing the previous day’s filth from my scalp.

After I stepped out of the shower, it didn’t take long for me to dress. Since Marie-Jane is a uniform school, I wouldn’t have to try and figure out what to wear. Although I hated not having creative expression for my clothes, it did feel nice to not throw on some random clothing from my laundry hamper, which I prayed was clean. The smell of bacon drifted into my nose, and my body just moved. I bounded down the stairs, sliding into the kitchen on wheels. A small orange bottle flew through the air and I caught it, quickly popping open the lid and grabbing a small red pill. I tossed it into my mouth and swallowed it dry. It had become routine, me taking my suppressants, that I can just swallow it dry. Mamì slid the last of the eggs from the pan onto my plate. My lunch box sat next to my breakfast. “Buenos Dìaz my beautiful daughter,” she cooed, resting her elbows on the counter as I slid into my seat at the kitchen island. “Morning Mom…” I replied hesitantly before picking up a piece of bacon. Chewing slowly, I kept my gaze on the plate below me. What could she want from me this morning? It’s only 7. “Mija, you're aware this is the last school you can attend, correct?”  Her tone made me feel like I was 7 again, which pissed me off. “I’m well aware, actually. I didn’t want to go there, but alas, I’ve been enrolled,” I replied sarcastically, crunching on my bacon once again. Damn, this is burnt. Eyebrows furrowing, mom pulled the plate towards her. “Don’t make me throw something at you. You’ll go to school with a welt in the shape of a shoe.” She waited a few moments before pushing the food back to me. Sighing, I stood up, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Yes ma’am.” Well, now I wasn’t hungry, but still choked down and swallowed the rest. I wasn’t looking forward to my commute to school. It was a 20 minute drive, and knowing my rusty car, it would probably break down on the way. Can’t complain though, at least I have some mode of transportation besides a bike. Grabbing my keys and hat, I opened the door. “Heading out now!” I called, stepping out. “Try not to run any pedestrians over this time,” she responded, chuckling. “No promises.”

My car shook from the intensity of the bass from my speakers as I belted along with the music playing loudly. Singing gave me a sense of tranquility and calmed my nerves down a bit. I rarely have first day jitters, but apparently, since this school is my last option, my mind wants to fill itself with the worst possible scenarios. I made a promise to my mom, and my previous school’s counselor that I would try to be on my best behavior. Now that I think about it, that was a bad idea. I will definitely fight someone here, but who? That’s to be determined for my future. As I rounded the corner a block away, my eyes widened at the glistening building before me. I knew my school would be rich, but damn, it’s a whole apartment complex. I was to move into the dorms here, per my mother’s demand. Maybe more space to crochet. We could leave campus whenever, as long as we came back before curfew, which just means we can’t leave our buildings past 11. That wouldn’t be an issue since I don’t plan on leaving campus besides visiting Mami. The main building sat in the front, which also made it hard to miss. I was almost blinded by the damn thing. Students were trickling in slowly by the time I parked. Adjusting my tie, I slung my messenger bag over my shoulder and walked through the double doors. Voices echoed through the corridor as groups of students, ranging from 9th to 12th, chatted amongst themselves. “Where’s the damn office…” I mumbled softly, looking around. My eyes caught on a person waving, and at first, I thought they were waving at someone else, so I ignored them. But then they called my name. “Ashton! Over here!” I snapped my head back to see them walking over, a smile on their face. Eventually, they stopped a few inches from me, extending their hand. I took in his facial features. Skin as pale as a porcelain doll, lips as red as a geisha, hair as black as the night sky. All I could think was, ‘He’s beautiful.’ “I’m Indria, but everyone calls me Indie. I’ll be your guide for today.” He smiled brightly. As we shook hands, I tilted my head. “Well you already know my name, so where to go first?”

Indie talked a lot, more than I was used to. As he talked, I found out his whole life story within 5 minutes. It was a lot of information in such a short amount of time, but that didn’t stop him. Eventually, we arrived at my first period, which I wasn’t even paying attention to how we got there in the first place. “Well, here’s your stop! What’s your number, so I can be of assistance anytime.” He hands me his phone and I wearily type in my number. Yes, it was for a good reason, but nonetheless, it was weird how forward he was. Once I was done, he sent me a text to make sure it was my number and smiled brightly. “It was nice meeting you Ashton! Feel free to message me if you need anything else.” He then walked away, and I watched until he was out of sight. This school was already going to be a pain in my ass, but I wasn’t sure how yet. It just was. The classroom buzzed with students talking to one another, so the majority of my first period was already inside. I took a deep breath before opening the door.

[lil-artist-blog-fandoms-ocs]

A concept art of Hydrangea's sister

Meet Iris, a superhero that has shadow powers. She and her sister are not getting along well.

[ink-stains-and-constellations]

The family was curled up together by the fireplace, two women and a little girl. The night outside was dark, a chill wind howling, but inside was warm and safe.

The gentle cadence of the golden-haired woman's voice filled the air, reading aloud from the book in her lap as the girl listened, enraptured, her bright eyes gleaming in the light of the fire.

Eventually, the story ended, and the girl snuggled closer to her parents, eyelids drooping. Despite having woken up only recently, she was quickly asleep in the warmth of the fire and the comfort of her parents' embrace.

The other woman shifted slightly, her brown eyes half-lidded, her dark-haired head resting contentedly on the golden one's shoulder. The golden-haired woman smiled softly and leant closer to brush a kiss against her wife's neck. Her sharp, pointed teeth punctured the already-scarred skin, and her lips came away stained with blood.

Write a happy story without conflict. Then with the last sentence, turn it into a horror story.

[rxmye]

" 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 "

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄!𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑 — For so long, he found art in his surroundings, nature was his muse . . who would've thought that he'd be able to find another muse, within you.

gender neutral reader / yandere oc x reader / obsessive / unhealthy themes / I guess the reader is his 'hater' / perfectionist yandere / kind of egotistic yandere / he has a praise kink frfr / maybe a bit self centered . . / kind of unedited / also might appeal to ppl with a savior complex

masterlist | requesting rules | character info . . . a/n: I feel like Lore takes up a good chunk of this fic, but enjoy . . also might be one of my longest fics . .

He was a calming presence, and a thoughtful friend to all he called his own. Elegance took a human form, in Xavier Wilson—A beautiful work of art indeed . . Born presenting a talent that could rival many others in the industry.

From a young age, Xavier presented himself as a man of the arts, often drawing out vivid tapestries of his dreams or memories. He would often lose himself in the pages of his notebook, scribbling away with intricate drawings and stories, his mind was his own magnum opus.

However—people was never his strong suit. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, surely if he was as magnificent as those around him expressed, he'd most certainly be able to recreate the portraits of those around him?—But no, none of his portraits could compare to his various other works.

As he got a bit older, his mother decided to enroll him in classes that could help expand his talents, which ranged from various music lessons, theater (didn't end well), art history—etc . . .

Xavier let out a breathy sigh, staring at the keys of the grand piano absentmindedly—his gloved fingers gently glide over the keys, tired would be the best way to describe him as of right now—his professor had left an hour ago, yet Xavier couldn't find it in himself to move.

Truth be told, Xavier wasn't a fan of music, he preferred quiet solitude—and though he had long since gotten used to the sound of the piano, violin, and any of the other ridiculous instruments his mother was so keen on getting him to play—he still preferred the silence over all.

Over the course of time, Xavier disinterest towards music dimmed—Alongside his distaste towards instruments . . He figured the reason he disliked it so much was due to his inability to play as perfectly as his professor . . Xavier was a perfectionist, and anything he couldn't perfect was simply 'wrong' in his eyes, and as he reached his teen years, he accepted that fact wholeheartedly.

Xavier stood still, as his mother fixed his tie for him—he could do it himself but he let her enjoy this moment, she always disliked watching her son 'grow up so fast'—"are you nervous?", she asked softly, gently holding his hands, smiling so brightly.

'Am I nervous?—' he thought, clearly not. He felt calm, neutral even. It was his first big show, yet internally he knew that things would end well for him, he could feel it. He's always been lucky, in fact his father's nickname for him as a child was quite literally 'Puer aureus' which translated to 'the golden boy' from Latin.

He clicked his tongue, a common habit of his—especially when he wasn't being exactly truthful—he paused for a moment as if to think, then he smiled at his mother, "Just a bit, but I'll be fine" he spoke calmly, gently squeezing her hand to reassure her. "Don't worry, I've prepared well for this . . Haven't I?"

Praise, he adored praise, and that day he received quite a lot of it—not just from his parents, or acquaintances . . .—but crowds of people. Honestly, it stroked his ego, quite a bit . .

By seventeen years of age, Xavier's talent was known worldwide, his rise to fame quite massive and fast . . He had to attend class, while also hosting live performances and art galleries. (such a struggle, really . . .)

University admissions were coming around, and most of his friends had chosen what schools they plan on applying to—what path they plan on going into—what school they hope to go to the most, the conversation was an eye opener and yet it all felt so bitter.

Xavier tapped his pen on the table, zoning out from the conversation his friends were having . . only to zone back in when Neva spoke, "—so Xavier, have you decided where you'll be applying too . . ? I'm sure you'll get in."

He clicked his tongue in response, closing his eyes absentmindedly as he spoke, "To be honest, not really . . probably something arts related?", Xavier was about to speak up again but stopped himself, starring down at the table, a sigh escaping his lips.

"That seems like a waste of money", he looked up, starring at Oliver with questioning eyes, and Oliver quickly explained himself, "Art school is great and all—But it won't really make much of a difference for you, in fact the rules could restrict your talent . . It could be better for you to just try something new? You're good in school a degree outside of your comfort zone may be something good for you!"

He hated that his friend was right, he hated being wrong. He prided himself for always knowing what was best for himself and his abilities, and in a spur of pettiness he found himself taking art anyway, trying to prove his friend wrong . . even though he was well aware his intentions were pure in all ways.

Xavier had done well in his courses so far, and with his fame, he was breezing through classes—and yet, when the topics of portraits came up . . he found all that floating out the window.

None of the models they had for class, felt right—none of the art he did, felt authentic . . felt like himself, when it came to art, Xavier took everyone to paradise, his art felt like peace . . his art was calm . . his music was soft, lulling almost . .

Yet now, as he stared at his canvas, covered in mixed harsh colours, a vibrant mess of paint, his brushes wrecked, paint dripping from the easel . . It felt like anything but calm.

And that's when he dropped out, a question to his perfection would wreck the fragile image of himself he had created in his mind, a man so perfect and lucky in his own right a humbling experience like that was to never see the light of day.

Xavier found himself turning to something different, just like Oliver suggested, his alternatives were selective, yet he kept many paths open, Photography, fashion, and business were his top picks and things he found himself surprisingly enjoying . . Surely if he could paint and create melodies of such wonders, then he can stitch some fabric together, solve a few equations, and take a few photo's here and there just fine . . right?

A few years had past, and Xavier was now running his very own Luxury fashion line, he still hosted art galleries here and there, and composed music on the side, but his business took up most of his time.

But on his free days he'd turn to photography, taking pictures of things he sought comfort in . . and people, he'd often take pictures of unsuspecting people, pretty ones . . people not so pretty as well, just to try and recreate the life they had on a canvas . . yet somehow always failing to do so.

The moment Xavier found himself close, he'd reach a dead end . . and that destroyed him, internally.

Over the years, he accepted the small flaws in his behavior, and tried his best to reform them, presenting himself as the perfect public figure. He did go to therapy in the past, but when things started rising up, he quit entirely.

Xavier laid back on his office chair, and scrolled through his recent posts comment section, and as expected almost all of it was praise . . some of envy, but that only fueled his ego more . . Until he found a comment that set him off, "His art is so melancholy, it feels a bit sad . . His previous works were brighter, like more happy but now it kind of feels sad . . Like the life in his work isn't there anymore."

Xavier stared at the comment dumbfounded, never had he received that kind of feedback . . portraits he drew were indeed lifeless, but his other art was always regarded as lively, and that was what he always strived for . . Curious, and in a fit of rage . . he clicked on the commenters profile, and saw you.

You, you . . You were what he was looking for, his muse. So, full of life . . He scrolled through your page, and couldn't help but feel the urge to draw you, and paint you . . and paint you he did. . Because soon his entire studio was filled with pieces inspired by you . . so full of 'life' . . .

Yet at some point, he had reached the end of your posts, and it just wasn't enough . . he needed you . . He wanted your feedback, he craved your praise . . like no other, he wanted input . . he wanted to know if his work was truly still lifeless . . he wanted you.

After all, a artist isn't complete without his muse.

@ rxmye , do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.

[sansaorgana]

— LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART FOUR

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — Six moons of marriage have passed and an unexpected visit of Lord Jason Lannister causes Ser Gwayne and the new Lady Hightower to have their very first disagreement. Not long after, she gets pregnant with their first child.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. + You don’t have to know the previous chapters to understand this one. I wanted to include Gwayne and Reader having their first child in the previous part already but it was too long and the time skip would be too big so I decided to turn it into yet another chapter of the story. Since the pregnancy and birth would be quite boring, I added some drama with Lord Jason aka Reader's previous suitor from the first chapter (but the details are not required to be known if you haven't read the first part!). There will be one more part to this story for which I am very excited! 😊 Thank you for all the nice comments. 💚

WARNINGS — Lord Jason being himself, pregnancy, birth

WORD COUNT — 6,130

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

First six moons of your marriage had passed by quickly and peacefully. You couldn’t believe it was half a year already and you were very pleased with how everything you had been so scared about turned out to be not so bad – performing marital duties was nothing but pleasure and fun, meanwhile running Oldtown could be exhausting sometimes but you still enjoyed it most of the time and you proudly held your head high while helping your husband with all his obligations around the city and the castle.

Having your own property with your own servants to order around was a good feeling, too. Not that you wanted to abuse the power that had been given to you but it was simply nice not to be someone’s daughter but your own Lady. Well, your husband’s – but he had never made you feel like that. Ser Gwayne Hightower was a chivalrous knight who was treating his duties and honour very seriously. He knew that being a husband did not only mean getting but it also meant giving. He was your protector and a shoulder to cry on, a strong hand to hold you and lead you and fight for you. You trusted him with your life and you would never doubt his loyalty to you.

Sometimes you wondered why had gods blessed you with such a good husband as you doubted if you had deserved him. Not that you were a bad person but you had your flaws – your pride, your stubbornness. Yet, you had not fought even once yet with your Lord Husband.

Well, once, nearly. Gwayne had suggested that perhaps you should start wearing more modest clothing because The Highgarden fashion was a bit too revealing for Oldtown. You had scoffed at that and he had not brought that up ever again.

You knew that The Highgarden fashion was considered too exposing for lots of regions of Westeros. Only Dornish women liked even riskier gowns but Oldtown was a part of The Reach so its people were not shocked to see a Tyrell Lady in a revealing dress. You had a feeling it was your Lord Husband’s personal preference because his own sister was known as a woman of strong faith and modesty like her mother before her.

Despite being Lady Hightower now, you still felt a very strong bond with The Tyrells. You always wore a golden ring with a rose on it and you loved all sorts of ornaments and decorations in the shapes of roses. You were corresponding with your Lady Mother and sisters every week and sometimes you were still signing the letters as Lady (Y/N) Tyrell – out of habit that was visibly saddening your husband whenever he’d catch you doing that.

Just like right now as you were sitting by your desk and Gwayne was handing out letters for you to sign them. Those were some official matters that he was supposed to send out to his vassals but ever since he was married and Oldtown had a Lady, he insisted on you both signing them even though it was not a popular custom for husbands to insist on such things.

You didn’t even read those letters since you trusted him as you mindlessly kept signing a letter after a letter. You gave him back the last one and he sighed, which made you look up and raise an eyebrow at him.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell,” he read out loud and you felt bad at the sight of his sad expression.

“I am sorry,” you reached out to squeeze his wrist. “I was not focused enough,” you admitted.

“I shall rewrite this one,” Gwayne waved the letter in the air.

“No, I shall do it,” you took it from him gently. “Or will it be seen as something inappropriate when they realise it was the wife’s handwriting?”

“No, it won’t be,” Gwayne smiled at you and allowed you to take the letter. “Can I stay here and watch you work?”

“What kind of husband asks such a thing?” You chuckled at him. “Of course, my love,” you leaned into his hand as he caressed your cheek and you placed a soft kiss upon his fingers.

Gwayne sat in the armchair by the window inside your chambers. You would spend some of your days here but all nights so far you had slept with him. However, the chambers he had prepared for you were so beautiful that it would be a waste to never spend your time inside them.

You rewrote the letter and handed it for him to sign and then you could start working on answering the letters that were addressed to you specifically. Gwayne kept sitting in the armchair and looking at you, occasionally staring out of the window. It was peaceful and quiet and you wished that moment could last forever.

The next envelope on the pile of letters made you furrow your brows. It was red and the golden wax seal had The Lannister lion on it. You checked twice if it was really addressed to you and not to your Lord Husband but no, it was very clearly addressed to “Lady (Y/N) Hightower of Oldtown”.

“Weird,” you hummed to yourself when you opened the envelope with a small dagger, without breaking the seal.

“What is it, my darling?” Gwayne turned his head around to look at you since he had been gazing out of the window and staring at the water.

“It is from Lord Jason Lannister and it is addressed to me instead of you,” you told him. It felt quite inappropriate so you wanted your husband to know for you would never hide anything of such a matter from him.

Perhaps you would not be so suspicious about it if you didn’t have a history with Lord Jason. He had been one of your suitors and your father’s favourite. In fact, he had been plotting with your father behind everybody’s back to win the tournament for your hand and he had been playing dirty by using his knight brother to pretend to be him.

“And what does he want?” Gwayne crossed his arms.

“Well, allow me to read the letter first,” you rolled your eyes playfully as you began reading.

Gwayne was trying to be very patient but from the corner of your eye you could see that he was tapping his arms with his fingers and you found it pretty amusing so you read the letter three times before putting it down and taking a deep breath in as you laid your eyes on your husband.

“He wishes to visit us. He claims he was around for his friend’s wedding and he wishes to stay at The Hightower for the night on his way back home,” you explained.

“What friend, I’m wondering?” Gwayne snorted. “Oldtown is never on anyone’s way. It is usually a destination, not a stop.”

“He says his friend is Lord Bulwer, they are our vassals from Blackcrown. He must reach Oldtown to get on the Rose Road. It is a faster way to get back to Casterly Rock than to travel alongside the shore,” you explained because, sadly, Lord Jannister’s excuse sounded very realistic. “Well?” You asked Gwayne. “We must give him an answer.”

“We are not in a state of war with The Lannisters, are we? We shall let him stay for the night,” your husband sighed and stood up to read the letter himself as if he wanted to make sure there was nothing inappropriate in it.

In the meantime, you began working on a reply letter to Lord Jason Lannister. Your husband kept standing behind you and examining every word you were writing down. He had never done that before, even when you had been writing letters of much bigger importance.

“I don’t mind you being in the same room as me while I work but this is a little uncomfortable, my love,” you tried to make him realise calmly when you were about to sign the letter.

“Do not forget your surname this time,” Gwayne reminded you and you furrowed your brows at the tone of his voice. It was not rude but certainly harsher than usual.

“Lady (Y/N) Hightower,” you signed silently, “of House Tyrell,” you added, just to spite Gwayne and you didn’t have to look up to know that he rolled his eyes. However, he did not say anything.

Lord Jason was supposed to come three days later in the evening, right in time for the supper. You wore a green dress for that occasion but you had a rose-shaped jewellery that your husband usually did not mind but on that day he seemed to be bothered by it.

“This jewellery is beautiful, dear wife, but are you sure it goes well with the dress?” He asked during breakfast as you froze.

“Since when are you an expert?” You turned your head around with widened eyes. Well, Gwayne knew quite a lot about fashion but his comment had irritated you.

“Since I am a married man,” he cracked a nervous smile at you.

“Yellow roses always go well with green for those are the Tyrell symbols,” you reminded him with a forced, ironic smile.

“Is this how you wish to greet Lord Jason in Oldtown? As Lady Tyrell?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow at you.

“I have been walking around this city in this very dress and jewellery many times before and you have never said anything!” You protested and Gwayne blushed a bit because he had no idea what else to say.

You went back to eating because you didn’t want to torment him more by pointing out the flaws of his argumentation, however he did not choose silence at all.

“The dress is also quite low-cut,” he mumbled.

“Yes, it is, my beloved Lord, and what about it?” You clenched your fist around the fork you were holding.

“I suspect not many Lord Husbands would want their wives to greet their previous suitors in such a dress,” he commented.

“I have never treated Lord Jason as my suitor,” you scoffed. “And what is wrong with the dress?”

“Nothing,” Gwayne quickly fixed himself. “Nothing is wrong with the dress, my beautiful Lady,” he assured you and went back to eating.

“Are you perhaps jealous of Lord Jason? Do you wish to impress him or show me off as your property?” You asked after the sudden realisation as you laid your eyes on him again.

“Property? No. My wife,” Gwayne clenched his jaw as he explained. “I want to show you off as my Lady Wife.”

“My darling,” you smiled and shook your head as your anger subdued. You leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I would have chosen you as my champion during that tournament even if you were a beggar knight from a peasant family. I would love you even if you were a miller, a carpenter, a fisherman. And no amount of Lannister gold would convince me to go with Lord Jason anywhere,” you assured your husband and fixed his hair gently. “I want to show you off as my Lord Husband in front of him just as much.”

That seemed to calm Gwayne down for now as he nodded with a small smile and even stole a little kiss from your lips. You were alone by the table and the few servants walking around would not scold you for that anyway.

The sun was slowly setting down when you were standing by Gwayne’s side in the courtyard of The Hightower and awaiting Lord Jason Lannister. Your arms were brushing and you kept looking at each other once in a while as if you were giving each other courage. Not that you needed it but Lord Jason was rather insufferable and you knew that losing temper around him would not be good for your relations with The Lannisters. The relations were pretty fragile already anyway.

Finally, you heard the horses and saw a big, elegant carriage with the Lannister lion ornamented on its doors.

“I thought he would travel on a horseback,” Gwayne mumbled.

“Well, he is not a knight. He is used to certain comfort,” you whispered and wore a fake smile that very moment when one of your servants opened the door of the carriage and you saw Lord Jason walking out.

He looked around as if he could not see you nor your husband at first. Then, he faked a smile as well and approached you.

“Lord and Lady Hightower,” he looked you up and down and kissed the palm of your hand when you bowed your head down.

“Lord Lannister,” you greeted him.

“Ser Gwayne,” he nodded at your husband.

“Lord Jason,” Gwayne nodded back. “You must be tired after the journey. Come, the supper is ready and your chambers have been prepared.”

“Thank you. I have never been to The Hightower, I must admit,” Lord Jason followed you inside. He kept looking around like a curious cat.

“How did you get to Blackcrown, my Lord?” You asked him curiously since you and Gwayne had been wondering about it earlier – why was he asking you for a room to stay on his way back only.

“I went there by a ship, Lady Hightower, but the ship was the wedding gift for my friend,” Lord Jason answered and you nodded.

“Your wedding gifts are very generous, my Lord,” Gwayne pointed out.

“Well, I can afford such,” Lord Jason grinned at him as you reached the dining hall. “You must forgive me for not sending one to you, Ser, but in my position of a failed suitor, it would have been pretty humiliating,” he explained and you pretended to understand his point of view.

And it was not like you cared about any gifts from him anyway.

“Please, let us not dwell on the past,” you showed Lord Jason an empty chair by your husband’s side and he took it after you and Gwayne had sat down as well.

“I am not meaning to, my Lady,” Lord Jason informed you proudly. “I am a married man myself now.”

“Oh, are you? Congratulations, my Lord,” you smiled at him even though he had never congratulated you on your union. “To whom?”

“Lady Johanna of House Westerling,” Lord Jason answered and you hummed to yourself.

“Well, she is a lucky Lady,” you tried to be kind.

“Thank you, that is very flattering, Lady Tyrell,” Lord Jason bowed his head and Gwayne shot him a deadly glance. “Oh, do forgive me, Lady Hightower. The colours you are wearing have misled me,” he explained with a grin and you faked a smile but you began to feel guilty for not listening to your husband earlier.

“Green is the colour of House Hightower,” your husband reminded Lord Jason.

“Indeed but the roses…”

“My wife is not forbidden from wearing the emblems of her father’s house,” Gwayne interrupted Lord Jason and it was rude enough to make all of you sit in silence for a moment after that.

“Lord Jason,” you started quickly to change the subject, “why isn’t your Lady Wife with you?”

“It was not recommended in her fragile state. Lady Lannister is expecting,” Lord Jason straightened himself and you could see pride and smugness about him.

“Congratulations, my Lord,” you nodded at him.

“Aren’t you afraid of leaving your pregnant Lady Wife alone for so long when it is no matter of life and death keeping you apart from her, my Lord?” Gwayne asked and you clenched your jaw before kicking him slightly under the table.

“Ser Gwayne, there is nothing in this world women do better than give birth. She does not need my assistance,” Lord Jason found it quite funny, though, as he laughed but he was the only one doing so. “Speaking of, I’ve expected to see Lady Hightower being swollen already. How long has it been now since the wedding? Six moons?”

You froze at his question. It was incredibly rude to be up in other people’s business like that.

You had been discussing the matter of children with Gwayne in the very beginning of your marriage and you both had decided you wanted some time for yourselves before having children and to enjoy each other’s company first. You were regularly drinking teas prepared by The Hightower’s maester to prevent you from getting pregnant and so far it had been working. But if it had failed, you wouldn’t be sad about it either, for you couldn’t wait to have your babes soon anyway.

You exchanged a meaningful look with your husband, not knowing what to say. If you told Lord Jason the truth – that you wanted to wait and enjoy each other’s company – he would only scoff at that and find it hilarious.

“And who has told you that I am not swelling, my Lord?” You answered swiftly before Gwayne opened his mouth.

Lord Jason looked you up and down before humming to himself.

“Well, congratulations, Ser,” he patted Gwayne on his back.

“Thank you,” Gwayne gritted through his teeth and gave you a scolding look. “It is still very early news, though,” he added.

“May the Gods bless Lady Hightower and her offspring,” Lord Jason nodded at you and it somehow felt very sincere.

“Thank you, Lord Jason,” you gave him the very first genuine smile that evening.

The rest of the supper went pretty boringly and you said goodnight to Lord Lannister before the servants took him to his chambers. You and Gwayne went upstairs in awkward silence.

On your way to your husband’s room, you passed the door to your chambers. They were a floor below Gwayne’s chambers that were located at the highest level of The Hightower.

“I shall join you later,” you only mumbled out and he nodded, watching you disappear inside your room.

Your maids were already waiting there to help you into your nighttime attire. You kept sighing and they were exchanging looks.

“How was it, my Lady?” One of them asked. She knew your backstory with Lord Jason because she was one of the girls you had taken with you from The Highgarden.

“Lord Jason is insufferable as always and even though he is married now himself, he finds great enjoyment in tormenting my Lord Husband,” you told her.

“Well, my Lady, I doubt Ser Gwayne is angry at you,” her eyes widened.

“I do not know anymore. I have worn a dress he did not approve of and it indeed caused trouble. I have also said something… Something I should have not said and I have said it to defend his honour but he might not see it this way,” you confessed.

“Ser Gwayne is a very understanding Lord Husband,” the girl assured you and smiled while she brushed your hair.

You kept looking at yourself in the mirror’s reflection but you weren’t sure of her words. That supper had gone worse in the beginning than you had even imagined.

You thanked your maids and they left you alone but you kept sitting in the armchair and staring at yourself and at the candles slowly burning out instead of moving up and joining your husband as you had promised.

For the first time during your marriage, you simply blew out the candles and went inside your own bed. It even felt weird to lay there since you were not used to it but it just felt like the right thing to do on that night.

You couldn’t fall asleep though. And after a while of tossing and turning, you heard the doors open as the wooden floor squeaked under someone’s feet.

“Who is it?” You sat up immediately.

“And who do you think, my Lady?” A familiar voice made you sigh out of relief.

You reached your hand out in the darkness and Gwayne grabbed it as you led him into your bed.

“Why didn’t you bring a candle with you?” You asked.

“I felt a little adventurous,” he chuckled. “And I know my way to you by heart, my beloved Lady,” he added. “Why haven’t you joined me?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to, my Lord,” you admitted when he laid next to you under the cover. You cuddled him immediately by curling up next to him and putting your arm around his waist. “I thought you were cross with me.”

“I am not cross. I simply do not understand why you lied,” he confessed and kissed the top of your head.

“Is it the lie that you’re upset about?” You furrowed your brow. “I do value your honour but…”

“Not the lie itself,” Gwayne interrupted you. “Why didn’t you allow me to inform Lord Jason that we do not wish for children yet?”

“Because he would not understand and find you weak or assume you are unable to produce an heir and it is nothing but an excuse. I wanted to spare you further embarrassments,” you explained. “And… I am sorry for the dress…” You added, looking down.

“Do not be. I am sorry for insisting,” Gwayne rubbed your back. “And thank you for wanting to spare me embarrassments but now we are facing quite a challenge, aren’t we, my love?”

“What do you mean, my Lord?” You looked up, finding his blue eyes in the darkness of your chambers.

“I mean that Lord Jason now believes that you are expecting, my darling,” Gwayne smirked a little and you furrowed your brows.

“Oh no,” you gasped, faking the dramatic aspect of it. “And what shall we do about it now?” You wondered theatrically.

“Well, I have quite a few ideas,” Gwayne leaned in to join your lips together in a kiss as his hands pulled you even closer by your waist.

“Are you sure?” You breathed out between one hasty kiss and another.

“Only if you are,” he assured you.

“I am,” you nodded. “I am, I am, I am…” You kept repeating, suddenly realising how eager you indeed were to have your own little babe before you allowed your husband’s lips to devour yours with yet another passionate kiss.

Thankfully, Lord Jason was supposed to leave Oldtown after breakfast. You greeted him in the morning in another green dress and even though this one was pretty low-cut, too, you decided not to wear any roses on that day. Instead, you wore a necklace with The Hightower that had once belonged to Gwayne’s late Lady Mother.

Lord Jason kept staring at your chest and the necklace until it became a little uncomfortable and he cleared his throat before looking up to meet your cold gaze that you were gracing him with.

“I must admit I have not expected The Hightower to be that grand. It really is as tall as they say,” he bowed his head at you.

“We Light The Way, Lord Lannister,” you reminded him with a forced smile.

“Of course, Casterly Rock remains taller,” he added and you put the cutlery down, irritated. Gwayne gave you a look to remind you to stay polite.

“My Lord, why the remark? Is it a contest?” You asked him, trying not to sound too angry. “It is not the size of the castle that proves manhood. I do believe that you have already shown yours during the tournament for my hand in marriage,” you reminded him of his shameful behaviour and cheating. “The tournament which my husband has won fairly and justly,” you added.

Lord Jason did not say anything. He looked down and went back to eating while his cheeks' colour started to resemble The Lannister emblem.

You squeezed Gwayne’s hand under the table and the rest of the breakfast went pretty smoothly. You went outside to the courtyard to watch Lord Jason ride away. His farewell was pretty short and official. He was not trying to make any jokes anymore.

“My darling, you have acted as if you were a knight and I was a lady in distress,” Gwayne chuckled at you once you were finally free of Lord Lannister.

“Sometimes you are, my Gwayne,” you smiled at him sweetly and leaned in to steal a kiss from his cheek.

“Shall I get you a sword, my sweet?” He teased you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Perhaps another time, Lord Husband,” you chuckled at that.

Two moons later you were watching Gwayne training with his sword as he was teaching a young squire on the courtyard. The day was quite hot but you had nothing else to do and you loved to watch him train anyway so you were sitting on a wooden bench, trying to remain in the shadow but you felt awful nevertheless. The sun felt too warm, the corset seemed to be too tight no matter how many times you had asked your maids to loosen it and you were hungry but too nauseous to eat. You blamed your condition on the weather and your upcoming monthly bleeding, which was late already but the soreness of your breasts could only mean that it would come very soon.

Gwayne kept looking at you from the corner of his eye with a worried expression because he could see that something was not right – you looked exhausted and your skin was a shade paler than normally. There were bags under your eyes and your voice sounded weak whenever you cheered for him or his squire.

He knew he was most likely overreacting but he was panicking deep inside that you could be seriously ill like his mother had been. The beginnings of each illness looked the same and losing you so fast after marrying you would surely kill him, too.

You were too exhausted to even notice the worried look on his face. You raised your head to shield your face from the sun and you felt a sudden dizziness that made you flutter your eyelids as your head grew heavy before losing consciousness for a short while.

When you opened your eyes again, the very first thing you saw was Gwayne’s furrowed brows and blue eyes filled with worry and fear. His cheeks were so pale that his freckles were more visible than ever and the strands of his auburn hair were tickling your face. His squire was standing behind him with widened eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” You asked and looked around while your vision was slowly coming back.

“You have fainted, my love,” Gwayne swallowed thickly.

“It must be due to the heat,” you tried to explain.

“Mayhaps. But I shall not underestimate your condition,” he picked you up the bridal style, carefully.

“What are you doing, my Lord?” You chuckled weakly at him.

“I am taking you to the maester,” your husband answered with all seriousness.

You didn’t protest because you knew he was worried and to be honest so were you. You only hoped that the maester would confirm that it was nothing serious.

Gwayne’s squire opened the door leading to maester’s chambers in front of you both and The Hightower’s maester stood up to bow his head. He had been sitting by his desk and working on something before you came inside.

“My Lord, My Lady,” he greeted you. “Is everything alright?”

“No, maester. My Lady Wife has fainted,” Gwayne laid you down gently on a bed.

“It is because of the heat!” You protested.

“Mayhaps,” the maester hummed to himself and approached you to examine you with his hands as Gwayne stood above him and watched worryingly. “Have you slept well, my Lady?”

“Oh, I can’t sleep for about two weeks now,” you admitted and yawned a little at the mention.

“I understand. What have you had for breakfast, my Lady?” The maester furrowed his brows.

“I was too nauseous to eat,” you confessed.

“May I ask you when was your last bleeding?” The maester raised an eyebrow.

“It should come any day now for it was more than a moon ago… I am sure it is going to come, though. My breasts are sore,” you lowered your voice a little, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you and Gwayne’s presence hovering above the both of you.

“May I?” The maester lifted his hands and you opened your mouth to answer but you noticed that he was looking at your husband and not at you.

“I mean, if you must…” Gwayne cleared his throat. “And if the Lady agrees,” he added and only then the maester laid his eyes on you.

“Go on,” you nodded and your heart skipped a beat when he grabbed your breasts gently through the fabric of the dress and squeezed them carefully. You hissed at the feeling.

The maester hummed to himself and moved his hands away before looking up at Gwayne again. Your husband shook his head out of anticipation.

“And?!” He asked.

“Lady Hightower is expecting. Congratulations, my Lord,” the maester informed and you opened your mouth slightly at that revelation.

“I… I am with child?” You inquired and sat up, feeling the sudden outburst of energy.

“I am quite certain of it. Too many symptoms confirming,” the maester nodded. “And when was it that my Lady stopped drinking the tea? Two moons ago, right?”

“That is quite right,” Gwayne answered and took you by your hand. He squeezed your fingers gently and sat on the edge of your bed. He placed a gentle kiss upon the palm of your hand and looked deep into your eyes with such a loving expression that you felt butterflies all over your body even though you had been married for more than half a year now.

The maester walked away and sat back by his desk to give you some space but you completely forgot about his presence anyway for all that mattered was your husband and his child you were apparently carrying under your heart.

“Oh, Gwayne…” You stuttered out as your eyes filled with happy tears. “So it is happening… And to think we have Lord Jason Lannister to thank…”

“My Lady!” Gwayne frowned and chuckled. “Do not say such things. Some people might get ideas…”

“That is true, I guess,” you laughed at his comment. “Are you still certain that you will not mind a daughter if it is a girl?”

“All I care for is your safety. And the child’s. In that exact order,” he answered and you gave him a faint smile.

“Whether they’re a boy or a girl, I just wish for them to be like their father,” you squeezed Gwayne’s hand lovingly. “That is my greatest wish.”

A slight blush covered his cheeks and you smiled at his reaction. It was quite easy to make him flustered with such compliments for he had not been getting many in his childhood. He had been left alone at eight years old, raised by all the septas and maesters of The Hightower alongside older knights teaching him the craft and chivalry. His life had been quite a lonely one but it no longer would be for you would fill the corridors and courtyards with tiny little Hightowers running around.

Your screams could be heard on every floor of The Hightower – a monument taller than The Wall itself – at least that was what your husband had claimed with a chuckle when you nearly crushed his hand while squeezing it tightly. You gave him a deadly look and he lovingly wiped your sweaty face, pushing away all the hair strands that got stuck to your forehead.

You knew that Gwayne was trying to distract you with his jokes here and there but overall he was very worried – perhaps even more than you were since your pain was too overwhelming to focus on anything else. The septas were busy around you, wiping your sweat away, helping you to drink water and telling you when to push as they monitored the birthing process.

You had not expected your Lord Husband to actually be there for you but he had not disappointed you. You had been conflicted at first for you had been told once that wives should not allow their husbands inside during labour. But you were too scared to go through this alone and the pain was much greater than what you had imagined as well. Gwayne’s presence was bringing you great comfort even if sometimes he was annoying you.

The birth had started after breakfast and the sun was slowly going down already but the septas were assuring you that it would not take long from now on. Gwayne had not left your side even for a moment throughout the whole day.

“I did not mean to upset you, my love,” he explained, caressing your hand as if it was the most delicate thing in the world and not a deadly machine that had nearly crushed his hand on several occasions that day. “You are the bravest woman in the Realm to me. In all the Realms of this world, in fact,” he assured you and you just couldn’t be angry at him any longer.

You smiled and wished to tell him something equally sweet when a sharp pain distracted you and you turned your head around while wincing and squeezing your husband’s hand tightly again.

“I can see the head!” One of the septas screamed. “Go, fetch the maester!” She ordered the young girl who was only getting her training but seeing her pale face and terrified expression, you wondered if she regretted her decision to become a septa.

On the other hand, as a septa she would never have to go through what you were going through at the moment.

The girl ran out of the room and you kept taking deep breaths in and pushing like the eldest septa was instructing you. Gwayne kept holding your hand throughout that but seeing his face, he needed the breathing instructions as well.

The maester entered the chambers in a hurry with the scared young septa after him and in that very moment the child’s screams and crying filled the room. The sound was so loud and determined that you immediately knew that there was nothing to worry about for only a healthy and strong child could make such a fuss.

The maester hurried to the newborn baby and Gwayne was trying to see as much as possible through all the septas swarming up around you to clean you up a little and wipe your face from all the sweat.

“It is a boy,” the maester informed and you couldn’t help but sigh with relief.

You knew your Lord Husband could not care less about it but you did care – you loved him and you wanted to give him an heir.

“Is he alright?” Gwayne asked with a raspy voice.

“See for yourself, my Lord. He is a perfectly healthy babe,” the maester approached you two and handed Gwayne his firstborn son. He showed your husband how to hold the little head up and you watched with a loving smile the little bundle of joy staining your husband’s clothes with blood as he was screaming his lungs out.

“He is beautiful,” Gwayne mumbled and moved closer to you as you reached out your weak hands to hold your own babe as well. He placed him gently on your chest but his eyes were fixated on the boy. “Thank you for him, my love.”

“I thank you, my Lord,” you answered but you did not look up at him either since you kept staring at the screaming child. But when he felt your skin and your heartbeat, he stopped crying immediately and just kept staring at you with huge eyes. You chuckled at that and cried happy tears. “How do you want to name him?”

“Lord Edmund Hightower?” Gwayne suggested. It was no surprise to you that he did not propose his father’s name and you liked the sound of Edmund Hightower, so you nodded. You could not care less about the name, you were just glad to have a son and you thought it was only fair for the father to choose his heir’s name anyway.

“I like the sound of that,” you assured your husband as you looked up to meet his gaze.

“So do I,” Gwayne nodded. “And the sight, my Lady,” he added and you felt your cheeks heating up.

Only Gwayne knew how to make you flustered still, after over a year of marriage and right after giving birth to a child, dirty with blood and sweat but to him you were nothing but a victorious warrior that had just survived a battlefield and he admired you now more than ever before.

MASTERLIST

[nartblartmallcop]

speaking of buck's design change, here's said design change. since his affection is supposed to be the viola but his design didn't really show that, i wanted to represent that more with him and make his hair look more like actual viola petals.

also here is his twin sister Boni!!! butch girlfail queen that she is!!!! she doesn't have quite so much story yet but she also factors into things and in buck and boni's case family solidarity instead of family drama (they're like the opossite of fred and greg cause they're twins who stick together no matter what)

[bluesylveon2]

The Princess and the General

Summary: When Silver meets the princess from his father's old bedtime stories, except she is not a princess but his past lover.

Note: set in the same universe as the Leona royal au fic, fluff, slight angst, mentioned pregnancy, aged-up characters, Yuu/Reader is a fae, former General Lilia, and oc child. I saw the General Lilia card and it inspired this fic :)

Warning: not beta read, possible ooc characters, slight spoiler of past Lilia, and possibly inaccurate fae aging (just ignore canon if it was addressed in Book 7 lol).

Word Count: 2.7k

Masterlist: here

"Father, can you tell me a bedtime story?"

A male with long black hair and red streaks scooted closer to his son's bed, careful not to wake the green-haired boy sleeping next to him. His red eyes met big auroral ones. 

The man chuckled at his son's cuteness and nodded. "Alright." He adjusted the boy so he could lay his head on the man's chest. "What kind of story do you want?"

"The one with the princess."

The man's eyes widened in shock, but he quickly cleared his throat. "You always ask for that one. It has a sad moment too."

The boy smiled. His innocent eyes sparkled. "I like the ending."

The man sighed and nodded. "Alright. Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. She was so beautiful that it felt like the world around her would stop to stare at her when she passed by. She was very kind and loving. Everyone in the village loved her." The man felt a lump in his throat, but Silver's innocent eyes continued staring at him. "One day, she met an injured and cold-hearted knight. So, being the kind princess she was, nursed him back to health. The princess eventually grew close to the knight that she fell in love with him."

The boy began to feel sleep overcome him, and he closed his eyes, unaware of the man's voice, beginning to choke. Despite this, he continued the story and concealed his aching heart for his son's sake.

"But the knight did not feel the same way. He was cruel and only cared about returning back to the war. So he left once he felt better, leaving the princess heartbroken without saying goodbye. The princess thought all was lost until one day, while wandering around the woods around her castle, she discovered a small baby with golden hair. She felt sorry for the baby, so she adopted him and named him Aurum. The princess gave the baby all the love and attention he deserved." Lilia almost choked on his words, but he continued on. "She raised him as her own, loved him, and nurtured him until he became a king. And they both lived happily ever after." 

Silver stared at the faceless crowd in thought. It has been years since his father stopped telling him bedtime stories, yet the one with the princess stood out to him. His father never described her in detail, but Silver often wondered if he would ever meet a woman like her. He often had dreams of a beautiful woman who looked to be around his father's age. Still, he has yet to meet someone whose beauty can make the world stop.

"We need food, clothes, water, and new swords. Are we missing anything else…" The green-haired boy looked up at his friend (more like a brother), but his friend's eyes stared off at the crowded marketplace. "SILVER!"

Silver broke out of his train of thought and turned to his friend. "Did you need something, Sebek?"

Sebek groaned in annoyance. "You were staring off into space again. You must stop doing that so we can return to the Young Master."

Silver sighed and closed his bag. "Father can care for him just fine, but we can head back. Let me make sure I have my magical pen, and we can go."

Once they had everything, the two walked through the Briar Valley markets and back to the castle. The walk was short, yet Silver was too occupied with his thoughts. He had a feeling that something would happen today, but he did not know if it was good or bad. 

As Silver was about to exit the bustling market, a woman walked past him. Her features passed for a brief second, but Silver felt it. Sebek, who was in front of him, slowed down. The voices around him sounded like unintelligible noises. It felt like the world suddenly slowed down, and it all happened when the woman passed. 

Silver immediately turned around in search of her. His eyes caught sight of her swaying hair and pointed ears. She looked young, possibly around his father's age. Silver's feet acted before he could think. 

"Wait! Miss, wait!"

Sebek turned around only to find his friend not there. "Silver?" Sebek's eyes landed on Silver running away. "SILVER! GET BACK HERE!"

The woman turned around to the noise to see a silver-haired boy heading her way, followed by a green-haired boy screaming at him. Her eyes stared at the familiar uniform. It was an updated one from the one she knew, but it still had the same colors as Briar Valley. Suddenly, the silver-haired one started pointing at her. 

"Miss! I need to talk to you!"

The woman immediately ran off in hopes of losing them. Meanwhile, Sebek had finally caught up to Silver. 

"Silver! Why are you chasing that woman?"

"Remember those stories Father would tell us? Specifically, the one with the princess? That's her!"

Sebek looked at Silver like he was crazy. "How would you know that? We could be chasing an innocent woman?"

"She had similar features to the princess, and the world slowed down when I saw her. Trust me, Sebke. It's her."

Sebek looked at Silver with a conflicted look. They should return to the castle, but what were the odds that it was the same woman. Even Sebek had moments where he wanted to meet her. 

The woman moved fast, using her fae abilities to her advantage. What felt like hours was actually minutes of running, and she was heading toward a large crowd. It would be a matter of time before she lost them. 

"We need to do something!" Silver yelled to Sebek. The green-haired boy had a determined look.  

"I have no choice but to do this." Sebek took a deep breath. "DO YOU KNOW LILIA VANROUGE?" The woman and everyone else stopped moving and turned to them. She stood there stunned, giving Silver and Sebek enough time to catch up to her. Even up close, her beauty was maximized by ten. 

The woman's eyes widened briefly before going to a neutral expression. "Was he looking for me?" she replied, causing Sebek to groan. 

"You didn't answer my question!"

Silver sighed before looking at the woman. "I apologize for my friend, Miss. It is a long story, but Lilia often talks about you."

The woman's eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. "You're lying. He would never talk about me like that."

Silver turned to Sebek and noticed the big crowd watching them like it was a drama his father liked. The two nodded after a few moments of silence. 

"I think it's best to discuss this over tea. How about we go back to the castle?"

The woman glanced around her, a hint of reluctance on her face, before nodding. 

---

The three sat in Malleus' study with Sebek preparing the tea. The woman stared at the room in awe.

"The King must have traveled a lot," she whispered as she stared at the many pennant flags decorating the walls. 

"They were gifts from Master Lilia to the Young Master, Yuu. The Young Master treasures them." Sebek proudly said as he set down her teacup.

Yuu thanked him and drank from her cup. She set it down and looked at Silver. "So let me make sure I understand this. You are Lilia's adopted son, and you-" her gaze turned to Sebek, "-are Baul's grandson. Lilia would tell you two stories where I was a princess, and you think it's me? How would you know?"

"He always talked about how beautiful you were and how it would look like time would slow down when you walk by." Silver explained, causing Yuu to blush. 

"I think he was exaggerating." 

"No!" Silver exclaimed, "It felt like the world stopped moving when we passed you in the market earlier."

Yuu's mouth opened in shock, "I see…What else did he say in that story?"

"He mentioned how you met a cruel knight, fell in love with him, and he left you heartbroken. The story ends with you adopting a child."

Yuu chuckled and leaned back, her eyes gazing at the ceiling painting. "Did you know that's how I met your father? It was a long time ago, he was a general, and I was naive. I thought he would reciprocate my feelings, but I was lying to myself the whole time. That story sounds like the life I wanted when I met him."

Sebek awkwardly drank his own tea and remained quiet. He had heard stories from his grandfather about how the mischievous Lilia they knew now was very different from years ago. Meanwhile, Silver slammed his hands on the table.

"Father may have been like that before, but he is not now! Also, I was too young to understand then, but he would always stumble and tear up when he told me the story. He may not say it, but I know he regrets what he did."

Yuu smiled sadly. "Thank you for that, Silver; those are the words I wished I heard years ago."

"Then you should stay so you can see him!"

Yuu shook her head. "I don't know if I should. I should be heading out soon before it gets dark. I'm visiting the Scalding Sands and hear it is lovely this time of year." Yuu brushed off imaginary dust off her clothes and started standing up. 

Silver and Sebek stood up like they had a burst of energy. They jumped toward Yuu and pushed her back down. 

"NO!"

"WAIT!"

Yuu became slightly annoyed. "What are you two going on about?"

"What is going on here?" A deep voice asked as he entered the study. Everyone froze, and their eyes turned to the newcomer. 

"Lilia?" Yuu said as she stared at him. He looked handsome, but she still saw small remnants of the cold man she met before. Her eyes were wide, just like Lilia's, and her heart tensed up from seeing him. 

"Yuu?" Lilia whispered with fondness that startled Yuu. She still looked as beautiful as he remembered, and he felt an invisible pull towards her like an enchanted spindle. Neither of them moved and stared in silence until Silver cleared his throat.

"Father, I'm sure that you remember Yuu. If you would excuse Sebek and me, we must help Malleus." He quickly said as he grabbed Sebek's arm and dragged him out. 

"Right! We must see the Young Master to help him!" The two boys immediately closed the door, leaving Yuu and Lilia alone. What Malleus needed help with? They may never know. 

Yuu cleared her throat. "You know it's been a while since I've seen you, Lilia. You definitely changed." She made no move to leave the room, causing Lilia to give in to the invisible pull. 

Lilia chuckled and sat down next to Yuu. "Don't I still look youthful?" He grinned mischievously.

“Don’t push it. I’m surprised you haven’t broken your back yet.” Yuu smirked, causing Lilia to gasp. 

"My youthful appearance has made it through the years! Besides, who else was supposed to watch over Malleus during his youth?"

Yuu laughed at the thought. She felt her heart relax as they quickly made conversation like they were old friends seeing each other. "I guess it makes sense. I heard the King was quite the handful as a kid."

"Yes, but he grew out of it...most of it. He had a wonderful young caretaker to watch over him." 

Yuu rolled her eyes and smiled. "Don't push it now. You may have cut your hair and dyed it pink instead of red, but there is more than that. You look happier and not like you're ready to murder someone. You even have a son. A human son, for the matter. The Lilia I knew before would never want to be near one, much less adopt one."

Lilia smiled proudly, his eyes briefly glancing at the door Silver had just left from with fondness. "Well, things happened, and I met Silver. He is my pride and joy, after all. I taught him everything and he has been a fantastic retainer for Malleus."

"I can tell. You raised him well. Did you know that he was the one who found me in the market? He even told me you tell him stories about me as a princess. I could not believe it myself." Yuu chuckled, but Lilia remained silent. 

"Lilia?"

Lilia looked at Yuu with a serious expression. The atmosphere felt slightly tense as Yuu knew it was time to address the elephant in the room. Suddenly, Lilia got down on both knees in front of Yuu and held her hands. He gently caressed her fingers with his thumbs. 

"You know, I tried to find you after the war ended. My mind was so focused on it that I did not realize what I did to you until it was over. I even returned to your house to beg for forgiveness, but you were gone." He looked up at Yuu. "Did you leave because of me?"

Yuu slowly nodded and looked down at Lilia's hands. "That was part of the reason. That house may have brought me painful memories, but I always wanted to explore the world. Your leaving gave me an excuse to do it. Despite that, I learned so much about myself from it."

"I'm happy for you, Yuu. I tried to look out for you years after, and then I met Malleus and Silver. You can see what happened next…" Lilia trailed off before continuing. "Yuu, I am so sorry for the damage I've done. If I could travel back in time, then I would. I would be the fae that you deserved back then. I was slow to realize it, but I love you and always have."

Yuu felt tears form in her eyes. "Lilia…" The former stoic man rested his forehead on her knees and began to cry. 

"So please, if you could give me a chance, I will stay by your side for as long as you want. If not, then I understand. I will respect your wishes." 

Yuu sighed, causing Lilia to look up and for their eyes to meet. "I still have plans to travel, but I have an idea. I will think about it, and when I come back, if you are still waiting for me, we can talk again and go from there." 

Lilia nodded with hope in his eyes. He moved to sit on one knee, grabbed Yuu's left hand, and kissed her knuckles. When Lilia's lips touched her skin, Yuu felt a spark flow through her body. It was a familiar feeling, and she had missed it. 

"I, former general Lilia Vanrouge, swear to wait for you, Yuu, for as long as you need until you tell me to go or death do us part."

Yuu interlocked their fingers together as a sign of comfort between them. 

"I, Yuu, promise to give you, Lilia Vanrouge, my answer when I return." Her eyes shifted to meet Lilia's red ones. "Maybe I will let you propose to me properly."

Lilia smiled with all the love he had for her. "Take all the time that you need."

With those words, both knew the future would be bright. 

---

Later

Silver, Sebek, Malleus, and Yuu sat together, silently eating dinner until Silver addressed the other elephant in the room. 

"So, Yuu, can you cook?" 

Yuu's eyes lit up in excitement. "Yes, I can! I picked up a few things during my travels, so say the word, and I'll make it." Yuu smiled, causing Silver, Sebek, and Malleus to tear up. The three ran to her and pulled her in a big group hug while crying tears of joy. 

"Thank you!" They cried in relief. Meanwhile, Lilia watched them from afar with a smile. 

"What a lovely family."

"Mommy, can you read me another bedtime story?"

Yuu laughed as she tucked her daughter under the blankets. "Another one, Aurie? I already told you many."

"Please! My little brother wants to hear one too!" Aurie pleaded. Her big red eyes shined with forming tears, and she put on her best pout. Yuu sighed, giving in to her daughter's cuteness. 

"Okay. One more, and that's it. I don't want you to fall asleep when your father and brother return tomorrow. You know that they will be excited to see you."

Aurie smiled proudly and nodded, her hair swishing up and down. "I promise, Mommy."

Yuu smiled and ruffled Aurie's silky hair. "Now, what story do you want?"

"Can you tell me the story of the beautiful princess who fell in love with the handsome knight? I like that one."

"Alright, young lady." Yuu sat beside her daughter and let Aurie rest beside her as best as possible with her 30-week baby bump. "Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. One day, while out in the village, she met a knight who was in love with her from afar for years…."

A/N: Aurie means "the golden one" and comes from the Latin word aurum aka gold. It's also used as a short form for the name Aurora :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Twisted Wonderland and its characters. Those belong to Aniplex, Walt Disney Japan, and Yana Toboso.

©: This story belongs to bluesylveon2 2020-23. DO NOT modify, republish, or plagiarize my work.

[jamscandraw]

Ref sheet for my Grimwalker OC Ambrose!! Lore under the cut but he's still in development so some of it may change

According to Emperor Belos Ambrose was “found” washed up on the shore of the Boiling Isles amid a shipwreck. It was concluded that Ambrose came from another far-off island, but with no other survivors and no memories prior to waking up, there was no way of knowing where he came from. Belos gave him a home in the castle and allowed him to train as a scout, and he was promoted to the rank of Golden Guard within a year.

As a Grimwalker, Ambrose was one of Belos’ great successes. He was almost “perfect”, i.e., quick to learn, compliant, loyal, and free of physical deformities, save for symbrachydactyly in his right hand. Disgusted by this “defect”, considering it a failing of his own, Belos told Ambrose it was the result of an injury during the shipwreck, and fashioned him a prosthetic hand with an artificial magic core embedded in the palm. This allowed Ambrose to learn the basics of magic, and because the hand looks like a gauntlet most people do not know he is not a “natural” witch, a rarity among the former Golden Guards. Because of Belos’ high expectations and harsh judgements, Ambrose was incredibly hard on himself over tiny mistakes and feared being perceived as anything less than the perfect devout follower.  He has a shaky sense of his own identity - he feels like a foreigner, but has no connection to his past or his homeland. He fears learning the truth and avoids going too near the sea.

As part of his indoctrination, Belos fed Ambrose old stories from the human world about brave knights and the divine right of kings, like the Knights of the Round Table and St George, and Ambrose became obsessed with them. He loved the concepts of chivalry and great heroes, and began to see himself as the brave Lancelot standing beside King Arthur, and the evils of wild magic were to be defeated like the dragons of old. While this did strengthen his loyalty to Belos it also gave him a sense of duty to the common folk as their protector, and he loved being among the normal residents of the isles more than being stuck in the castle. He gained a lot of respect from the common folk, as he was just as likely to rescue a child from a tree as slay a dragon. He was given the moniker “The Golden Lion”, partly due to his appearance and partly for his displays of bravery.

Ambrose was a skilled warrior and a ruthless fighter. Blinded by his loyalty, he relished in pursuing and defeating Belos’ enemies, believing himself to be the arbiter of justice. It wasn’t until he became close to other witches at court, including the skeptical and brooding Darius, that he started to realise his own hand in people’s suffering and question Belos’ orders. He confronted the Emperor, announcing he could no longer carry out his duty as the Golden Guard, and tried to leave, but was imprisoned. When Belos realised that Ambrose was no longer loyal to him, he gave him one last chance to pledge allegiance. Ambrose refused, despite Darius’ advice, and was executed for treason… (or was he?)

[hel-phoenyx]

22) Competing

There's people that can go all their life without a competition. Not even harmless challenges or rivalry. Just perfectly happy living with others.

I envy those people.

My life has always been a competition. Against other nobility, against our ancestors, against the current sovereign, against my fucking family, I am always competing, and I am losing.

I remember the first time I went to the castle. I was twenty-four, a two-year-old in my arms, and neither of us had ever seen the inside of the king's abode, even though we were, ourselves, nobility. It was both because the Laangfisk didn't want us here, and because my parents cast me aside. The moment my brother was born and I lost the competition.

Yet I went in, because the king invited me. And here he was, under the throne, over him looming a big painting of Odin II. The one who killed my grandfather.

I know mom never forgave him. It took me years to understand why. She saw. She tasted the blood. She watched as his head fall of and as the killer stripped us of our titles. He won the competition. An ages long competition between two branches of the royal family now so far in blood that we can't even call ourselves relatives.

I looked upon that portrait and remembered the one of the defeated are now covered with a curtain.

He was on the throne and next to him was my little brother, the bane of my existence. The one that won the competition by being born. He open his eyes and cried and the seastorm marked my loss, for I am powerless.

My defeat cast me aside as I wasn't even aware there was a game.

And yet, he lost. He lost, too, because he isn't on this throne. He should be. We should be. We should be kings and queens and fighters and heroes and not standing idly in the shame of the defeat.

He lost to the one that invited me in this castle and is now extending a hand to me, the eternal loser.

"Kriss, was it ? It is nice to meet you."

Is it a ploy ? Do you want to humiliate me like your mother humiliated mine ? Do you want to kill me like your grandfather killed mine ? Do you want another tamed puppy next to you like the one who won't even look me in the eyes ?

Why are you extending your hand ?

What are you waiting for ?

Say something.

S̶̹͐ã̵͇͙̮ÿ̷͍͉̞́̃ ̴̝̳̞̗̑̆̅͠s̶̖̥͊̋̈́͐ͅo̸̼͇͒̀͝m̵̡͖͊ę̶̟̤̱͑̓̽t̵̬̄̐̏̾h̶̜̀͛͒͘į̸̠̖̅̍͆͒n̶̢̢͖̈́̈́͑g̴̟̯̓̎͜ ̴̡̣̣̞̆!̷̫̒!̴̮̭͍̰͘!̸͔̇̈́͠

My name is Kriss Haralsdottir and once, a long time ago, far before I was born, it was Kriss af Mundir. But losers don't deserve names. losers don't deserve legacy. Losers can't even remember they, too, descended of Hrotheim IX, the hero of the Coast, your hero.

Losers can't be apparented to winners.

My son is in my arms. My precious, darling, fatherless son. His father lost to you, too, and now I've lost him.

I can't stand being in front of the winner.

"It is.... Nice to meet you too, your Majesty."

Loss tastes sour on my tongue.

I can't bear to look at him no longer. So I look at Tyrfing. Look at the defeated gleam in his eyes.

He's happy to be there and yet he knows, he knows he betrayed everyone's expectations. He knows mom raised a winner, he knows mom raised a hero, a weapon, and yet he lost, the hero has fallen and the weapon is rusty. I've hated him all my life for his gifts, for how everything seemed to look so easy for him, magic, fighting, charm, relationships, he had everything and yet he failed.

How can you still live with that weight ?

How do you endure the path of the loser when you're so used to winning ?

I restrain a chuckle, sour and bitter.

At least I was used to defeat.

[haodarling]

Like the Movies

about: a series of my favorite movies reimagined with (some of) the boys of seventeen.

notes: the movies inspired the fics, please don’t expect it to be an exact word for word reenactment of the films; i had a couple of ideas and decided to roll with it. unfortunately i will not be doing all of the boys as some of them are key side characters unless specifically requested! the stories are interrelated in some way; it won’t be explicitly stated but try and look for crumbs!

also! most if not all the y/ns in the fics are directly stated to be female due to some of the stories heavily relying on y/n’s biological sex to be female.

currently working on: pretty girl !

Pretty Girl

based on: Legally Blonde

pairing: law student! joshua x heiress! reader // ex boyfriend! wen junhui x reader

synopsis: the youngest of 3 successful sisters, no one expects you to accomplish anything save for sitting still and looking pretty, but after your boyfriend dumps you for a much more educated girl, you get your eldest sister to pay your way into harvard law where you meets joshua hong, who does not seem to appreciate how lightly you takes things.

tropes: opposites attract, popular girl x nerd boy but with a twist, they start off at the wrong foot, it gets resolved, joshua will say hurtful things along the way though

A Sweet Haven

based on: Notting Hill // Maid in Manhattan

pairing: golden retriever!mingyu x single mother!y/n

synopsis: never in your wildest dreams did you expect acclaimed actor, kim mingyu, to stumble into your quaint bakery and ask you to hide him from the onslaught of paparazzi. what began as one chance encounter turns into constant visits to you and your daughter. but just as you begin to see a future between the two of you, the reminder of his fame and reputation hovers over the both you.

tropes: forbidden romance, single mom! reader, mingyu’s an actor, secret relationship

Hot and Cold

based on: Pride and Prejudice // Emma

pairing: wonwoo x reader, seokmin x oc

synopsis: as the eldest child of your family, you have only ever wanted the best for your siblings. so when your sister confesses to being in love with someone— you do everything you can to make sure they both end up together… but the infuriatingly handsome brother of your sister’s beau seems to be against the union altogether.

tropes: enemies to lovers, they really don’t like each other at first, just two people being protective of their younger siblings, elder sibling trauma written by an only child LOL

Mr and Mrs. Choi

based on: Mr. and Mrs. Smith

pairing: agent!scoups x agent!reader

synopsis: you and seungcheol (code name: scoups) have a bit of a work place rivalry going on, and the agency wants to put you both to the test by pairing you up with each other in a mission that would determine who gets the promotion… the catch being that you both would have to play a married couple.

tropes: rivals to lovers, technically also coworkers to lovers, fake marriage au, a lot of back and forths, cheol is a teasing lil shit with y/n, will very much include the old “the target is gonna notice we’re tailing him hurry let’s make out”

Love Me Tomorrow

based on: 2 week’s notice // flipped

pairing: jeonghan x reader

synopsis: your friends and coworkers say you’re foolish for harboring a crush on the worst man ever; aka your boss. yoon jeonghan is a successful ceo, and he is well aware of the hold he has over you; often using you to perform minute and tiresome errands. but what happens when you finally draw the line?

tropes: unrequited love (initially), she fell first but he fell harder, hannie’s an asshole here ngl, he gets better i promise, y/n is on a path to self love, when hannie realized he loves her he’s so pathetic i swear

Something Borrowed, Something New

based on: My best friend’s wedding

pairing: minghao x extraverted!reader, slight vernon x reader, and slight minghao x oc

synopsis: you love your fiancee you truly do, and you were very sure he felt the same long enough to propose to you; but he’s quiet, and well- you’re not. you know this, and so you always make sure you are not too spirited in days where he doesn’t feel it. but when he runs into his old college friends, you could not help but notice how he becomes a lot livelier with his childhood best friend.

tropes: established relationship, opposites attract, golden retriever y/n and black cat minghao, angst, like a lot of it, hao has a girl best friend :(( , two people who don’t communicate because of their own personal reasons