#I Know This Entire Book Is About Anastasia I Know It Is I Know It Is I Know It's Her... is what i chant under my breath to keep myself sane | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

coolcattime · 6 months ago

Note

heyy i saw u reblogged the "please ask me abt my ocs" post, so. here is me asking about your ocs! gimme the deets

WARNING THIS IS 8,600 WORDS LONG

So in originally trying to answer this, I ended up just overwhelming myself because I have a lot of OCs and as it turns out trying to write everything about them all at once caused me anxiety and that was incredibly silly for an ask that was meant to, like, bring joy (which it did). So I've decided to just start again and focus on more simple descriptions. Some of these OCs are mine, some of Atlas’ (@theiratlas) and two are Alex's (@gayb0wsr). And I've colour coded them to easily show whose is whose and I've grouped them in a way they're grouped the only story that features all of them at once.

Below the cut is 31 backstories for 31 OCs! They are vaguely sorted - though sorted in a way that they are grouped the same way they are in the only story where all of them appear. So while the groups have titles, the titles don’t matter all that much and were mostly for me to keep track of the groups.

Also here is art of them all! All the art has reference links under the cut and was all either drawn by myself, friends, done in picrews, or commissioned. Basically, these are all images made just for these characters ^-^

To just explain a tiny bit about the world of Libris, The Great Book. It is, as the name does imply, a flat world in the shape of a book. It was originally created as a custom D&D world that now is just kinda a hub world for all the OCs.

Balor Crew

Idric Ba'lor (He/Him) - Tiefling Glamour Bard - Early to mid twenties

Art reference: https://coolcattime.tumblr.com/post/746469835526078464/ive-finally-had-the-brain-space-to-draw-so-ive

The merchant captain of the Balor, having hand-picked her crew since he took the position.

He was taken in by the previous captain after escaping a compound of religious zealots that were enslaving tieflings. He named himself after the ship.

Was taught his musical skills (violin and singing) by the tieflings looking after him in the camp, but his bardic talents are entirely self-taught.

Incredibly powerful Bard, probably the most powerful Bard on Libris. Beat the headmistress of a Bard College in a violin contest when he was a child (said headmistress now hates him with a burning passion). Has created spells.

Mostly a merchant/con-artist (depending on who you ask) but also is very much an adventurer for hire. But above all else, Idric considers himself a storyteller and prefers to tell the stories of others rather than his own.

Medli Mistwalker Ba’lor (She/Her) - Water Genasi Whispers Bard - Late teens to early twenties

Art reference: https://coolcattime.tumblr.com/post/722939088269901824/a-little-redrawvery-slight-redesign-of-my-oc

Was raised on the island of Mistwalker within the walls of Mistwalker College as the prodigy of the schools Headmistress Lady Clarissa Mistbreaker.

Was abused and bullied throughout her life which led to her being a pacifist.

Met Idric when they were kids and he tried to con her. Medli ended up hiding under the stall table when teachers came looking for her and Idric lied to them about not seeing her. This situation ended up with Idric beating Clarissa in a violin contest and him gifting Medli the item he had been trying to con her into buying. The two have been friends since and Medli frankly idolised Idric.

Medli ends up running away from Mistwalker when a “test” turns out to be a fight to the death between herself and another student. She's found half-dead by Idric and Anastasia who are thankfully able to heal her.

Now works as Idric’s apprentice and is a lot happier. Ends up changing her last name to Ba'lor due to disliking having a connection to a place that caused her pain.

Knows a lot about magical theory and is doing research to try and bring back lost magic.

Anastasia Gulp (She/Her) - Merfolk Twilight Cleric - Early twenties

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1414503

The navigator of the Balor.

A lot more comfortable in the water than she is on land. Very skilled deep sea diver and navigator, mostly on instinct.

Very typically doesn't realise she is included in a group unless it is directly specified.

Will often say that her parents are great adventurers and that’s why they abandoned her. This is not true and she is not very convincing about said fact.

Despite appearances has had a very normal life. Doesn’t know where her cleric powers came from.

Myla Soliel (She/Her) - Simic Paladin - Late twenties to early thirties

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1706331

Hired security aboard the Balor.

Originally a human, but when she was a kid she left to work for Dr Braedan Thaxx - a scientist who had burnt every other bridge the scientific community had to offer attempting apparently impossible research - who fused her with features from other humanoid origins, animals, and monsters to create a superhuman bodyguard.

She worked with Thaxx for her entire adult life until, without warning, his research concluded and he never contacted her again, completely abandoning her.

She ended up working as a mercenary for hire, which led to her getting hired by Clarissa to kidnap Medli. She successfully did this, but was talked out of actually completing the job by Medli. When Idric arrived to find her breaking the legs of the college merchant that had come to collect Medli and hired her as security for the ship.

Altair Delphine (They/Them) - Aasimar Divination Wizard - Late Teens to Early Twenties

Art references:

https://frolis-maneuver.tumblr.com/commissions

https://ko-fi.com/aurelia_r?action=gallery

A divination wizard that uses tarot cards as a magical focus. They are also quite gifted in regular non-magical divination using the cards.

Altair was once enrolled in the most prestigious magical school on Libris: The Penattrey Embark Academy. Despite being intelligent and an incredibly natural divinator, formal education led to them being perpetually stressed. They ended up leaving to avoid seeing their exam results and think about their future for another second.

They briefly attended Mistwalker College as a “non-taught specialty student”, where they met Medli. However they left not long after Medli did due to their stress in formal education not having disappeared overnight, or over many nights (or ever), and due to Mistwalker sucking in general.

They end up staying in a tavern in a small town run by a friendly elderly dwarven couple. They attempted to earn money by doing tarot readings, but didn't actually advertise they were doing this and any curious patrons found Altair’s bedside manner lacking even if their information proved correct. Needless to say, they didn't actually earn much money.

They assumed they were being sneaky and koy in not paying their tab - the couple was actually just letting them stay for free, going along with Altair’s antics.

They ended up reuniting with Medli kinda randomly and getting a job as an assistant on the Balor to help on market days (and get roped into helping out on adventures).

They also ended up as the apprentice of the head of a mysterious magic guild known as Atlanta. They did not apply for nor ask for this job, but it pays well and very very little is expected from them so they have accepted the situation.

Storm's Rest

Katherine Delaney (She/Her) - Half-Elf (Eladrin) Wild Magic Sorcerer - Mid to Late Twenties

Art reference: My current WIP

The adopted daughter of the human noble family of Storm's Rest.

At a young age she was exposed to an extremely high level magic that left her blind and with an overwhelming magical force within her body. Her father found a source of magic water that with a small ritual could be turned into eye drops so she could see, though she needs to apply the eye drops every day.

The massive amount of magic in her left with wild magic surges that occurred no matter what type of magical training she attempted. She ended up honing her powers as a sorcerer to gain some control over this with the help of her mother who is learning this alongside her daughter.

As part of a family tradition, she goes off to adventure for a while after becoming an adult. This ended up in tragedy as Katherine and her party were captured by a green dragon and its cult. One of Katherine’s friends was eaten, the other lost a leg, and her brother (who came to rescue her) lost an eye. Worse, the dragon and the cult leader both escaped alive.

Katherine ends up with survivor's guilt over the situation, especially as she ended up with no long term injuries. She ends up unable to stand remaining at home and taking off in the middle of the night hoping she can prove herself somehow.

In practice this looked a lot like hiding in a tavern three towns over until a cute (please read as: weird) mushroom girl, claiming to be her retainer, showed up.

Rupert Delaney (He/Him) - Human Swarm Ranger - Late Twenties to Early Thirties

Art reference:

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1706331

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/582810

The biological heir of the Delaney noble family, and Katherine's older brother.

Typically seen with a charm of hummingbirds following him which fight with him in combat.

He's stopped adventuring since the dragon incident, deciding to focus on learning to run the family shipping business, rather than risking worsening his injuries. Despite his happy-go-lucky nature and less than stellar academic history, he’s found great success in this.

He has always been incredibly protective of Katherine, and is incredibly worried about her since the dragon incident and her disappearance having been a big part of hiring Leontine as Katherine’s retainer.

Leontine O'Dora (She/Her) - Wood Elf Spore Druid - Definitely Always Twenty-Four Exactly, No More, No Less, 24 mmhmm exactly yes, that’s what that guy said that one time, i think it was a good year ago now. He said I looked twenty four and he wore a cravat so you have to assume he knew his stuff :)))

Art reference:

https://x.com/Edlinklover?t=GRwLt_wHWVqEj369CDl0zA&s=09

https://www.tumblr.com/gayb0wsr

Leontine woke up in an abandoned mushroom infested estate with no memory of who she was and with a wound in her chest that had been infested with and closed by mushrooms.

The mushrooms spoke to her, greeting her as a friend, and acted as a guide when she realised she wanted to leave wherever she was.

For a while, she adventured around the general wilderness surrounding the city she had woken up in. She was oddly skilled with a quarterstaff and the mushrooms aided her with necrotic damage and absurd necromantic powers. She was immediately a more than formidable fighter.

She made enough of a name for herself as a fighter that she was approached about becoming a retainer for the daughter of a local noble family. She went to look into this job, however when she arrived she was given an apology. The daughter had disappeared, and the best detectives in the city currently had no leads. Leontine offered to track her down with the help of the mushrooms, an idea that was not really believed by anyone but the son but the family couldn't exactly turn down help.

Leontine found Katherine a few towns over without taking a singular wrong turn. Though Katherine was not exactly hiding, she definitely did not expect to be found. She definitely was not ready to return home. Leontine decided that this was fine as her job was to be her retainer so as long as she stayed with Katherine, she was doing her job. She did however persuade Katherine to send her family updates to let them know she was safe. The two have been travelling together since and have been dating since shortly after the arrangement began.

Marshanne “Marsh” Springharrow (She/Her & He/Him) - Hagkin Warlock - Late Teens

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1564386

The created child to a powerful yet closed coven - designed to the most powerful hag there ever was. The coven began “training” her at a very young age in advanced polyphormic magic, giving her nearby towns folk to “play with” (traumatise).

As Marshanne grows a little older and more of a problem to the local populus, he becomes a folkloric type monster to the nearby town, which very much makes her kinda sad.

A renowned magic school then approaches the coven with the proposal of using and educating Marsh in exchange for studying his powers. The coven agrees but makes it very clear that they will come back to retrieve her as soon as she begins her transformation into a full hag and that even the school will not be powerful enough to stop her once it begins.

Marshanne, upon waking up in the school, is told that he is being given a choice: accept the pact with the school’s patron to supercharge her powers, be given top tier support and care from the staff all while allowing her to do good in the school's name before being killed kindly when her transformation begins or to be horrifically slaughtered in front of the student body as an invading monster.

Marshanne accepts this, desperately wanting to be a hero and the school reserves the right to take that “kindness” whenever they see fit. After a year or so of this dynamic Marsh is sent on placement to support / learn under Rupert Delaney as he rebegins adventuring after an unknown hiatus. Rupert does not believe in the school’s binary regarding Marsh’s life, though will figure those details out later.

Rupert is also the person to give Marshanne, his usual nickname, Marsh.

The Cult Busters

Anshide Munroe (She/Her) - Drow Twilight Cleric - Forties (mid three hundreds)

Art reference: https://neuroticdoodle.tumblr.com/

Born in a particularly religious drow city, Anshide grew up with a number of clear rules. The absolute clearest being that no one was allowed to leave and that there was only one acceptable deity to follow. When she was approaching adulthood, she found an abandoned book on a different deity, one of the star deities of Libris.

Anshide became infatuated by what she read, and secretly began to pray to this new goddess. When her secret was discovered, she was arrested and ultimately exiled from the city. From there she left the tunnels under the World Mountains to the surface of Libris where she saw the stars for the first time and was amazed.

She was blessed by the goddess she was exiled for as a cleric and ended up working for a number of years as a mercenary. During this work she met the man who would become her husband - Himo.

The two settled down and ended up having a child - Kaya - before her past ended up returning. An inquisition from her birth city, tracking down those they had previously exiled to be made an example of to help cement the rule of a new priestess.

Realising the risk they posed to her family, she found a place for them to hide while she took on more mercenary work to keep herself on the move with armed company. And it worked well enough, but it was not a real solution.

After far too long of having to build her strength, Anshide returned to the city where she was raised and found the priestess. With power and experience behind her, Anshide gave a very clear ultimatum: stop with the crusade on the exiles or she would burn the priestess and the church to dust with starlight.

What precisely happened, Anshide kept to herself, but she returned to her family. Rather she returned to where they should've been, that was now a house ransacked, walls and floors covered in symbols and runes that she didn't recognise. In the centre of it all was her husband's severed hand.

She set off to find her family, ready to track down every cult in Libris if need be.

Rhell O'Hara (she/her & zu/zuff) - Human Zombie Fighter - Late Teens to Very Early Twenties

Art reference:

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1342558

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1419391

Rhell’s mom raised her, trying to avoid exposing Rhell to her real job, a back alley doctor for a mob who’s dealings focused on anthropomancy, information dealings, blackmail, and general assorted mafioso nonsense.

As Rhell got older and their relationship grew more strained, Rhell learnt to vent this anger physically growing to love sport and develop more into a regular person. Unfortunately this is also when Rhell’s mum’s role within the mob grew and she began to rely on Rhell’s help to do so.

Although a physically imposing presence, Rhell was almost exclusively given runner jobs and normal tasks that could be a part of any other assistant’s life, buying odd things with name’s zu’s never heard of, carrying “carpets” to the edge of town, cleaning apartments at half past four in the morning - the usual.

At some point in this, Rhell completes a drop off in an abandoned quarry, though this turns out to be a sting operation and in running through the quarry, Rhell steps upon loose stone and over fifty feet to her death.

When her body is found, her mum is able to use her sway to get ahold of the corpse, cover up the fact the fall ever happened and bring Rhell back, though due to the substantial damage to the vessel, this took more than what would usually be possible.

However the mother was able to do it though, Rhell came back, now physically unable to die ever again, simply awakening again and again but with an incredible hunger to serve others and more than a few stitching scars. Though it comes with little in the way of magic or impressive feats, Rhell is yet to find something zu couldn’t shake off in an hour or so plus her body has became the perfect vessel for divination, allowing her to gain insight into the future whenever she is harmed as blurry as those insights may be.

Rhell continues working for her mother in a similar capacity.

Libra Linustep (She/Her) - Tiefling Star Druid - Early to mid twenties

(Her name is pronounced Lib-ra, not Le-bra. She's named for the world of Libris, not the starsign ^-^)

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1564386

Born into a cult, Libra has always been told that the work they're doing is going to help all of Libris. A collection of divinators, they were going to read the stats to reunite the twelve star gods holy relics and bring unity to Libris.

Libra was one of those in the community blessed by the stars, she could see into the future and into the unknown. Her talents were only natural, her brother their current leader had such visions too. Libra followed her to guide herself to people or objects that can help their community, but she's sure that one day her visions will lead them to the holy relics they're looking for.

VI of Swords (any/all) - Slime Girl Arcane Trickster Rogue - less than a year of sentience, over 800,000 without

Art reference: https://www.instagram.com/sug4rmush/?hl=en

Once VI was nothing more than a dungeon slime. Very deadly, completely mindless, acting as corpse/general adventurer cleanup for a lich. When said lich ended up evolving to godhood, the magic left behind in the dungeon went into VI and she became a sentient slime (still extremely dangerous and occasional corpse eater).

Not quite knowing what to do with himself, VI found a tarot card on the ground with a figure on it that looked an awful lot like them. Thus they named themself “VI of Swords”.

For a while she hung about on the surface of Libris acting as a con artist giving tarot readings using cold readings and performance rather than divination. Then, as fate would have it, he started to get actual visions of the future.

A little panicked, they returned to the dungeon they were from only to be greeted by a newly formed cult. The Cult tried to fight them, a lot of its members got killed, and barely managed to trap VI in the central chamber which now has more locks, traps, and enchantments surrounding it than the most secure vault in the land. VI is now snuck waiting for someone to let her out so she can figure out what exactly these dreams are about.

VI’s main talents are a) being terrifying and psychological attacks in combat and b) transformation into different (always slimy) forms, mostly a dog.

Orla Waspchild (She/her) - Human Pre-Eldritch Warlock - Literally like nine

Summer Camp

Art reference:

My unposted art

https://www.tumblr.com/gayb0wsr

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1706331

A young child with two parents who are controversial high ranking naval officers. She has a very black and white view of mortality due to this upbringing.

She was being raised typically on ships stationed around blockages. On one such blockage around an island, she ended up eavesdropping on her parents and overhearing them planning something terrible.

In attempting to escape the ship, she lept overboard determined to swim to shore. Quickly learning exactly what a current was, she began screaming for help, when none came, she instead screamed to the waters themselves, and boy did they answer. And so when Orla should've gone under and drowned, she instead turned into lightning striking the water over and over until she reached a safe store.

Said safe shore happened to be at an adventure camp for kids, where the counsellor coming to see the commotion assumed Orla was a kid that simply skipped checking in to head straight for a swim. She got a mild telling off about swimming without telling anyone and a safe place to stay.

After more than one reckless and impulsive decision, Orla quickly realised that the whole surviving death thing wasn't a one time thing and in fact now whenever she is in danger, something happens and Orla doesn't. She doesn't know why this is, but decides it means she is a hero and the adventure camp is as good a place as any to stay while she figures out how to do that.

Flaire Sandvik-Darling (They/Them) - Half-Elf (Sea) Lifeguard - Late teens / early twenties

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/170832

(Flaire is actually blue with light fish features)

The lifeguard at Libris’ best adventure fun camp for junior adventurers, having felt most at home near the water. Flaire is an incredibly confident swimmer and calming presence for many of their friends, despite not always seeming it.

Flaire grew up taking trips to the adventure camp, with stretching days of fun that made adventuring seen like a field trip rather than a dangerous occupation. Flaire would spend their days swimming or exploring the woods with their cousin that never quite seemed to have the magical effect on them that they had on everyone else.

During their teen years, Flaire got lifeguard training and got a job as a counsellor at the camp.

As a young adult, Flaire was enrolled in a prestigious magic school. This was when they learnt a rare quirk they had. Whenever Flaire looked at magic, it stopped. No one could explain the ability, though a good number of professors did discuss theories a bit too loud, but Flaire was very much stuck with it. They attempted to persist at school, but frankly anti-magic vision at a magic school was never going to work.

They ended up having what amounted to a year long breakdown before leaving during exam season to go back to their lifeguard position at the camp. Flaire had developed incredibly complex feelings about having to leave school and so chose to keep this news secret until they decided what exactly those feelings were, hoping to see their old friends, relax a little and return to their old life before things felt too real again. However, said friends no-showed the reunion being too busy with jobs, partners, and parties and Flaire was left in their little clubhouse alone, having just put up a little banner :((

With camp starting the next day, Flaire did what they could - smashed up the clubhouse and awaited the children’s arrival confident that at least things would be normal with their cousin, a new counsellor and someone they had been really close with prior to school. Even if they hadn’t really spoken in nearly a year things would go back to their usual rhythm quickly, right? …

Flaire, batting 0 for 2 at this point, is more than a little surprised that their cousin seems to have gained an incredibly abrasive personality since the last time they met and more than a touch of hostility to them in particular.

Sparrow Sandvik (She/her) - Half-Elf (Wood) Sorcerer/Cleric - Late teens to early twenties

Art reference:

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/170832

https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1473879

The rope keeper at the adventure camp.

Flaire's cousin on their non-elven side.

Much like Flaire, she grew up with trips to the adventure camp. She's always found a connection with the magical woods that the camp hosts. She never got lost in them like the other kids, they seemed to like her, and Sparrow found them to be her special place where she could retreat when needed.

When she was a kid, she always idolised Flaire, seeing them as a super hero of sorts. This dulled over time as Flaire was around less and less and eventually disappeared for a full year.

Sparrow, during her turn to adulthood, had been dating a religious girl and ended up attending a religious college focused on training this with an interest in becoming clerics or paladins. Against the odds, Sparrow was blessed by one of the Gods and became a cleric. When she told her girlfriend, expecting her to be happy she instead got dumped.

Sparrow returned to the adventure camp and took a job as the rope keeper. She was one of the only people who could reliably travel through the woods so it seemed like a perfect fit.

She is not over the breakup.

Cassidy Reeves (He/Him) - Elf Bard - Mid twenties

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1349935

The song leader of the adventure camp.

To be honest, Cassidy is not that developed in Libris yet. He was originally from Liminal Horror where he was a very cool country musician that managed to survive flicking a cigarette butt onto a giant ratking zombie (barely, BARELY, but he did survive).

Mercenaries

Isaiah (He/Him) - Tiefling Wild Magic Barbarian - Late twenties to early thirties

Art reference: https://www.tumblr.com/gayb0wsr

Isaiah was originally raised in a compound of religious zealots that were enslaving tieflings that ended up being destroyed by a mercenary guild run by a human named Noah.

Noah adopted Isaiah and raised and trained him to fight. He is now the second in command of the guild.

At some point, Isaiah managed to find the entrance to Libris’ plane of magic, The Lining, which ended with Isaiah getting impaled through the chest by a massive crystal. How exactly he survived this, no one is entirely sure but now Isaiah has a crystal in his chest and the ability to unleash devastating magical effects on the battlefield.

Darien Morosi (He/Him) - Human Rogue/Fighter - Early to Mid Twenties

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1473879

Darien has at one point been living a perfectly ordinary life in a perfect ordinary town. He'd been a law student and would've become a pretty ordinary small town lawyer. Instead the apocalypse hit. Seemingly every natural disaster hit at once. If that wasn't bad enough, zombies whose bites spread their form like a disease began to appear.

This baffling turn of events broke any sense of reality Darien had, he locked himself in a library half as a safezone but mostly to research everything he could on surviving, disease, zombies, infection transmission, biology, and anything else to the much neglect of his physical form.

When he finally left the library he had just enough survival skills that alongside some new friends he managed to make a safe haven in what was once a spire temple in the centre of the city. It quickly went from feeling like a safe haven to a prison as one man, Logan, was determined to fill the leadership void he was so adamant was there. He tried over and over to take charge, to the point where suddenly facing every natural disaster possible and possibly turning into an undead husk doesn't seem so bad.

He's caught in an attempt to escape with one of the survivors that started this haven leading to her being badly injured. Darien is blamed (and blames himself) for this, so he is given the option to either stay and work with Logan having learnt his lesson or be exiled without supplies. He chooses to leave. He walks for weeks, barely surviving by clinging on through sheer spite.

He just kept walking. Until, as suddenly as the apocalypse hit, Darien found himself in a mercenary camp. He looked around confused before promptly passing out from exhaustion and malnutrition. He ends up joining the mercenary guild once he's back to health.

He ends up learning that the town is literally in a pocket dimension now cut off from the rest of Libris.

Marcoh “Roe” Daava (He/Him) - Human Warlock / Barbarian - Mid to Late Twenties

(Daava is pronounced Da[R]-va)

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1414503

Roe made a deal with the Divine Fragment of Hands and got roped into a cult formed by them. With Roe having been the one to bring the cult together.

Roe is an incredibly well spoken man having had elocution lessons at a young age and holds incredibly composed demeanour. For those that have seen it, however, would note Roe has an incredible puissance and love of inflicting damage.

That said, Roe grew up dirt poor and the very definition of a street rat, openly stealing from stores, getting in random fights with other teens, and shouting matches with strangers.

One such fight, got infinitely more complex when Roe was shot in the side of the head. Said shot being in response to Roe having clawed out the eye of what he assumed was just Some Mouthy Fuck. Turned out said Fuck was in fact an incredibly well protected mobster.

Luckily said shot was not lethal, unluckily however Roe’s body was taken in by the gang so “proper revenge” could be had, afterall being humiliated by a child in combat is a pretty bad look for any respected highwayman.

The back alley doctor tasked with keeping Roe alive took pity on him, claiming Roe had died suddenly. But when questioned, the doctor was forced to impale Roe in the chest with a scalpel. This is where the fragment of hands made its deal, using its many hands to cover Roe’s mouth and ensure the scalpel bent just enough to miss anything vital. In return Roe gained the horrifying ability to touch at a long distance and use a mass of hands for grabbing, killing, stealing and, occasionally mixing drinks.

Elaina Gauis (She/Her) - Human Warlock - Late twenties to early thirties

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1414503

Elaina made a deal with the Divine Fragment of Mirrors and got forced into a cult formed by them. She's a lot less chill about this than Roe.

Originally a career criminal, Elaina met the fragment during a heist. She was offered a portion of the fragments power which she impulsively agreed to, not realising the cost would be her sight.

Panicked at her sudden blindness and realising the guards were on their way, Elaina ended up burning the top portion of her face, making herself look like a victim of those that owned the house she had been robbing. This worked and she avoided arrest.

Is incredibly pissed off about being forced onto the cult believing that she has already paid more than a high enough price for her powers. The divine fragment disagrees, happily pointing to her contract of servitude.

She is still working in the criminal underworld, though now as a dealbroker more often than doing heists herself. However, those who see her as a weak target quickly meet their match as Elaina's quick thinking and intelligence hasn't dulled, and her new power over mirrors and reflections leads to nasty surprises for those fighting her.

Libi's Ship

Rhys Mourningdove (He/Him) - Half-Elf Grave Cleric - Mid Sixties (Early 40’s appearance)

Art reference: https://twitter.com/nooskadraws

Rhys is the best doctor on Libris. This is just a fact - one that he's frankly egotistical about but is true nonetheless.

Notably, he got this title before he became a cleric, using non-magical methods. He had been asked about this and even offered blessing by the Gods as a way to help more people, but he always refused. He didn't need the power of the Gods to help people.

The Gods were not best pleased with this answer and set Rhys a test. Rhys wasn't actually told about this test, he just found his wife getting ill without explanation. Ill with a sickness that he could not cure.

As he realised there was nothing he could do, he prayed to the gods for any way to help her but received no help and instead instructions to just wait, which Rhys ignored, continuing to try more and more outlandish methods.

Eventually a divine gave him a solution. They gave him a potion. Though confused why now, Rhys didn’t have much time.

Giving the potion to his wife did cure her sickness. It also turned her into a lich and hasn't been seen since. The specific trickster god that answered Rhys was very amused.

The god that set the initial test appeared to Rhys, frankly annoyed that he had turned what was meant to be a test of patience and faith into unleashing a powerful undead creature onto Libris. Rhys blames them for this but finally agrees to receive cleric powers though he still actively avoids using them during his work as a doctor, mostly to prove a point.

Libitina Puch (She/Her) - Winter Eladrin Undying Warlock/Assassin Rogue - Unaging early 40s (early three hundreds)

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1706331

Libitina was born as the only child of an elven noble family and knew one day that she would inherit the house and, so long as she could keep public favour, would rule the city by herself. At least, that was her belief as she studied both law and economics for running the city, etiquette and customs for dealing with nobles, and poisons and blades for dealing with threats.

Her plans of a solo rule were apparently not taken seriously by her parents who arranged a marriage for her with another elven noble who was pleasant enough, but Libi had never really had any interest in men and quickly grew frustrated with the courting process.

Getting more and more annoyed at her life plans being ruined, she began to go out more into the vast wilderness surrounding the city. A place where legend had it there was hidden a crossing point to the realm of the fae. Libi mostly used the place to gather natural poisons. But one day when out, she met the woman that would change her life. An archfey of the Undying Court.

The fey was the most beautiful person she had ever seen and she addressed them as one would a noble ruler. The two did an interesting dance that night, one that most would call flirting but both participants were too pretentious to call it anything so simple. Libi left the encounter with a charm, some strange new powers, and the promise for more if did favours for the Undying Court.

Of course, she still needed to figure out the mess of being engaged. But that was an easy enough problem to solve. All it took was a bottle of wine, a gift from her parents to herself, a single glass and he was gone. Poisoned. The forged documents she had left in her parent's study detailing the purchase of poison and plans to kill her got them out of the way as well.

Of course, her involvement is just rumours, the official judgement by the high court of The Elmmyu’rra States that her parents had tried to kill her and just happened to kill whatever his name was first and thus were sentenced to execution. Libi was just oh so sad about this, she couldn't possibly think about getting engaged again for at least a couple of centuries.

She's proven herself to be a surprisingly good ruler given her tendencies to allegedly assassinate nobles and do the binding of the fey in exchange for immortality. After all, she did her work to get to this position, she was going to put effort in now she actually has what she wanted. It's those living outside her city that need to be worried.

Piper Re'leshi (She/Her) - Drow Dream Druid - Child to early teens (Between 50 and 100).

Art reference: https://coolcattime.tumblr.com/post/624895502460338176/i-found-a-picture-that-i-realised-that-i-never

Piper has always been told by her parents that she is the prodigal princess that will lead their family back into the ruling class of the underdark and while it's been since she's seen them, she still believes that with all her heart.

A drow with stark white skin and only a few dark patches, being born onto the surface of Libris was far more inconvenient for her than most as even brief sun exposure can leave her burnt and in pain. Eventually this became too much for her parents to deal with and, in what was meant to be a brief visit with her uncle, they left her with him with no intention of returning.

Piper had always admired her uncle. He was an arachnologist - which she thought was very important as spiders were very important - and his house is connected to old smuggler's tunnels which connect to caves - places that Piper can explore without fear of the sun. She misses her parents, she wishes she knew when they were getting back, but in the meantime she enjoys exploring the tunnels and learning from her uncle. Plus her uncle lets her have a pet! Her very best friend, Mr Dog the goliath birdeater spider.

One day when exploring the tunnels, Piper runs into another elf. A wood elf boy around her age. He's carrying a wooden sword and seems as surprised to find Piper as she is to find him. She asks what he's doing and he explains that he's looking for the tunnel monster. Piper has never heard of the tunnel monster but happily agrees to look with him when he gives her his spare sword.

They become good friends as she helps guide him around the tunnels and he tells her about the wilderness around the city that has a crossing point to the realm of the fey. He's in training with a druid with a circle that uses the power of this point for their magic. Finding the tunnel monster is a secret mission from them so he can become a fully fledged member. He invites Piper to meet them and even though she wants to, she explains her issues with the sun so he decides that, until they can figure out a way to stop the sun from hurting Piper, he'll just teach her druid stuff.

All in all, Piper's life is going great until one night her uncle pulls her out of bed completely panicked and tells her they need to leave. She's confused as he pulls her through the house down towards the tunnels, until she sees them breaking down the door. People in shiny metal armour with giant weapons. Piper grabs Mr Dog and her sword and tries her best to lead her uncle through the tunnels. But she's scared and a kid, and her uncle isn't an adventurer. The scary people catch up. They keep saying things about them being evil and a dungeon and Piper doesn't understand. She tries to defend them with magic and her sword but it doesn't work very well.

A saviour comes in the form of a woman in a ballgown who appears out of mist and seems quite annoyed at the armoured men being in her city. Piper isn't quite sure what happened to them, but she and her uncle don't need to worry about them anymore. Lady Libitina was very nice and gave Piper a charm that let her go out in the sun without it hurting her skin (it still hurts her eyes, but she likes exploring nevertheless) and she got to meet her friend's druid circle and start really learning magic. Plus her friend apparently found the tunnel monster (neither her nor her friend know when, but the Druid circle leader said he did) so all's well that ends well.

Sigourney Romero (She/Her) - Human Enchantment Wizard/Storyteller Warlock - Late twenties to early thirties

Art reference: <https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1342558>

Sigourney is a playwright. She and her brother used to travel through the towns and cities of Libris putting on plays that told the stories of the Gods. She would write the plays and use her magic to create living puppets to act as creatures and monsters. Her brother, Leigh, was an actor, able to portray gods as if he actually was one. The rest of the actors would be hired locally and their plays were seen as important work as in Libris if the Gods are not remembered, they stop being gods, so spreading their word and stories was necessary.

One fateful night in the climax of a performance everyone in the theatre - cast, crew, audience, everyone - blacked out. It was as if times skipped forward by ten minutes. One moment Leigh and his co-star, the son of a local noble, were acting out a climactic scene the next, Leigh was standing over the corpse of the other actor covered in blood. Chaos erupted.

Leigh was arrested. Sigourney's head ached trying to figure out what had happened. He had to have killed him, there was no one else who could've and he had been covered in blood. But her brother didn't have the powers to make everyone forget ten minutes and if he did he was at least smart enough to make them forget more time so he wasn't so obviously the criminal. But they didn't have enemies, anyone who would want to frame them, except for the Gods themselves. Obviously no one believed her on this idea. Leigh was found guilty and sentenced to life in the gladiatorial arena.

Knowing she didn't have the power or money to do anything about his fate, Sigourney left. Always saying she didn't care, that he was a killer, why would she care, but always searching for anything that could give her any sort of chance to help him. She kept travelling, continuing her shows as puppet only affairs now just as likely to tell the story of the Gods inflicting terror on some poor mortal than to tell their origins or myths. And during her travels, she heard of someone, possibly something, that could help her.

She travelled across two continents to find the place, hiring a mercenary to make sure she had protection as she left the well travelled roads. It took months, but she finally reached the charred library in the middle of a long since abandoned town. In the centre of the building, to an audience of seemingly no one but herself and a hired thug, she began to tell the origin story of Libris. Of the powerful entities that had created The Great Book to tell stories only for the people of the world to feel terrorised and create gods to seal away their creators. Of how, while they mostly died or disappeared, a remnant powerful entities does still exist.

The story is interrupted with the mercenary kicking over the puppets and pointing his sword at Sigourney's throat. Fed up with what seems to be madness, he demanded that she shut up, pay him everything she had, or he'd kill her and take it any way. Before she could answer, a new voice echoed through the library lecturing that it was awfully rude to interrupt a story before it's concluded. The mercenary's eyes widened and he suddenly turned into a book that was picked up and inspected by the new presence in the room. A being made of paper and cloth and ink, a combination of the reminding energy of the creators of Libris. Before Sigourney was The Storyteller.

Impressed by the story, they questioned what precisely Sigourney wanted and she said she wanted a patron. She knew that they still touched the world of Libris, occasionally touching a person's life to make it more interesting, and she wanted to be granted powers that could let her fight back against the Gods. The Storyteller agreed, on one condition: Sigourney needed to tell her own story, the truthful story that she had been avoiding for so long. Reluctant but desperate, Sigourney told the story of herself and her brother and that terrible moment.

Sigourney was granted the powers of story, and was given a book that she could use both to communicate with her patron. She could also write in it to make things happen. They had to be interesting, had to make sense and not create plot holes, but so long as she could write them Sigourney now had the power to use stories to influence the world of Libris. And Sigourney had quite a few stories she wanted to tell.

Mind control Crew

Wyme Fletcher (He/Him) - Human Aberrant Mind Sorcerer - early to mid twenties

Art reference: https://www.tumblr.com/netoey/188189654012?source=share

Wyme grew up in an orphanage and lived quite a normal, if a social life of most people in the small town he was born in. When he was 18, like most of the rest of the people who grew up here, he left to see what else was out there.

Fortunately for the narrative, that was a town that had just been eradicated by an Aboleth. Meaning as Wyme entered its population had just became one. Deciding to stay, steering others away, and just learn to avoid the limits of the aboleth’s mind control, Wyme found a new motivation in his hatred for that fish but also extreme paranoia.

His proximity to the aboleth awarded a horrible and wet form of psionic power, similar to that of the aboleth itself, plus some physical transformations like a long tail and third eye.

Amanda “Am-Mi” Miriam (She/Her) - Human Mastermind Rogue - Early to mid twenties

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1342558

The daughter of a prolific (if corrupt) prosecutor who wants to follow in her father's footsteps.

Lives in a city with a famously harsh court system where simply lying in court can result in the destruction of one's soul. Of course this can be avoided if you know the right methods for dishonesty, something Am-Mi's father is quite happy to share with his daughter.

Am-Mi cares little if the people she's prosecuting are actually guilty, she just wanted to be the smartest person in the courtroom. If people were smart they wouldn't have gotten arrested. After all, she's gotten away with murder so if anyone manages to get themself arrested, they deserve everything she can throw at them.

Island

Tabitha Dissimulo (She/Her) - Tiefling Illusion Wizard - Early twenties

(Dissimulo is not trans, just resentful of the name “TaBiThA”)

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1564386

The daughter of two magic school professors.

Dissimulo was born named simply “Tabitha” and told she could have a last name when she graduated from a magic college with honours. She got annoyed at this idea quickly and started going by the virtue name of Dissimulo meaning she wouldn’t even need a last name.

She has enrolled in the study of Illusion magic, which she does have some interest in, but she's far more interested in linguistics and translation. She currently speaks and can read seven languages. She's only attending the university due to the presence of an apparently untranslated tome that she wants to decode.

She also ended up as the apprentice of the head of a mysterious magic guild known as Atlanta. She did not apply for nor ask for this job, but it pays well and very very little is expected from her so she has accepted the situation.

Lance De La'Fluer (He/Him) - Human Monk - Early twenties

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1706331

A professional fighter in the dwarven fight pits where he plays an elf - these fight pits are a travelling event of flamboyant faux-violence. He’s also Dissimulo's college housemate.

He’s also been recruited by Atlanta, though less scouted and more that Dissi brings him to work with her and no one’s stopped her.

To be honest, Lance doesn't have a backstory. He was invented as the Ultimate Professional Wrestler for a Danganronpa AU and hasn't devolved much backstory wise but I love him and he's the best.

He has a sister though :))) (we think)

Villains

Taurus Linustep (He/Him) - Aasimar Cult Leader - Early to mid thirties

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1706331 (This art is of a human version of Taurus - it was for an AU and I've just not gotten around to drawing his actual form)

Taurus was born into a cult looking like the miracle child they had been looking for. An aasimar with halos surrounding most of his features, he was from a young age marked as the next leader of the cult and taught their true goals and ambitions and his words were followed like prophecies.

Unlike his younger sister, Taurus didn't have any real powers of divination and instead is faking it to lead the cult in the direction he wants and to make sure he maintains power.

He wants to gather the relics of the star deities to reconstruct a broken superweapon and use it to take over Libris and the stars beyond.

Logan Charles (He/Him) - Human Paladin - Late Twenties

Art reference: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1706331

Darien's ex-friend, from Logan’s POV, Logan took a very different view to the end of the world, finding a desperate need to be in control.

He eventually ended up in charge during the apocalypse due to his Paladin training letting him cure injury and disease and the zombies’ surprise weakness to fire. Leading to the rift that formed between him, Darien and their other friend who helped start the haven in the first place that would lead to Darien leaving and the friend being badly hurt.

Furious and feeling betrayed by Darien abandonment, the tower is now a literal prison for his friends to make sure none of them can leave or disobey him. Turning him from hapless leader to fullbore dictator overnight. He’s grown to love this power.

Kinda sorta planning to break the bubble dimension and unleash the apocalypse on the rest of Libris so he can further his dictatorship.

#oc mega post #ask #anon ask #cat's oc #theiratlas #gayb0wsr

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arliedraws · 4 months ago

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re: black brothers hair type. this is so funky to me because you are Very adamant about them having straight here so i was like hmm gotta look at your art again to see how a straight haired sirius looks and like. thats very similar to how i draw sirius' hair. only id not call it straight, like in my book thats wavy. its so interesting to me how we percieve hair as differently textures, i would assume based on what our own hair texture is? cause when i think of straight hair i think of the hair type i have, i would commit crimes to have the hair type you draw sirius with ngl

I think you’re entirely right that it’s based off of my own hair—I base his hair off mine (when it’s long) and also Dmitri from Anastasia lol

I style Sirius’s hair in the way my bone-straight hair looks when I blow-dry it. I also give Sirius a very layered cut for someone who absolutely does not have layered hair 😆 I don’t know if I consider it wavy but full-bodied. He has both a lot of hair and very thick hair the way I draw him.

And listen, I give him naturally luxurious tresses because I put him through so much hell. It’s the least I can do to give him some non-canonical pretty hair! Hahaha

#imp is gonna be like ‘yeah actually no your hair does not look like his in real life”’#but I try

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ashpkat · 15 days ago

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Do you still think TSM and TGT were bad? For me, The Silver Mask and The Golden Tower were so bad it felt like such a let down. I know it's kind of apropos of nothing to rant about a book series that finished 6 years ago but whatever. The new cover has made me dip my toe back into the water of the fandom.

The first two books of the series were like ride or die for me; they were just so incredible, I would read the Copper Gauntlet over and over and over and over again on repeat when I was younger because I was obsessed with that reveal scene where Cal reveals to Aaron and Tamara (was there another character with them? I lowkey forget, I haven't read these books in forever) that he was born with the soul of Constantine Maddon (or something akin to that) and that he had control over the chaos-ridden armies like oh my god peak literature. And the awkward boatride to the island after that was some of the most captivating YA I've ever read. The intrigue between Alastair and Cal and the reveal and the tension between the Masters and the Iron Trio like oh my god that made my younger self go absolutely feral over the series. I wasn't that big on the Bronze Key but I went feral over the ending with Cal in prison and Anastasia (that was her name right? I haven't read these books in 6 years) revealing that she was Constantine's mother and that she would set him free. Like I was so hyped for the Silver Mask.

And then it was just like. boring. I didn't like it all that much. I did end up enjoying it but I thought the ending with Alex turning into a chaos-ridden was stupid. Then I read the Golden Tower and was just. confused the entire time I read it. I was low-key just reading it to get to the ending. Then the Maugris reveal happened and I felt like it just cheapened the entire series.

And I just have to wonder like... what happened? How did these authors write such amazing stories for the first three books and the just have the quality drop precipitously.

Anyway thank you for writing good fanfic for this series.

yesss i still think TSM and TGT are awful and a complete let down!!! TSM had so much potential to be a very good book! they’re trapped with the villains; if they try to leave then call would likely be arrested again, if they stay then call is going to likely be forced into resurrecting aaron. and then they do like. absolutely nothing with it. it would’ve been a perfect time to develop alex’s character from a cartoonishly evil villain, a perfect time to expand on the constantine and first gen lore, and they just go: “what if we make the chaos ridden dance and then kill joseph (who, mind you, was quite literally there to be the main villain all along, corrupting and using young men’s grief to turn them into powerhouses for his selfish needs).” it was VERY stupid. i hate it so much. TGT was even worse because they brought alex back (further destroying the whole point of joseph as a character) and then completely disregarding the meaning of their own story by making MAUGRIS a thing.

i also agree that the bronze key was very mid and i can’t really recall the events of it as they all mesh together into one giant blob of mediocrity. prison ending was FIRE though, right after the alex reveal and aaron’s death (which again, was hardly ever discussed and you couldn’t even truly see the ramifications and his SURVIVORS GUILT in callums character except for a few lines. and also, HELLO??? my girl TAMARA??? her GUILT of having to choose one of her best friends to live?? that entire choice being summed up to “well i was in love with you, call” FOR NO REASON???? what was she turned into??? the entire plots of the last two books could’ve gone as they did without her, compared to the first three where she was an incredibly vital character. she’s just a pretty cardboard cut out in the last two. very aggravating.)

i stand by the ghost writer theory because of the plot holes were 10x worse in TGT and TSM

#and thank you! i live to serve this community and i’m glad to hear u like my fics #magisterium #the magisterium

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altblock-tm · 4 days ago

Text

People I’d like to get to know better

Thanks to @hellionil for tagging me in this ^^

Last song: The Mind Electric by Chonny Jash,,

Favorite color: The day that purple stops being my favorite color is a day where a beautiful part of me has died.

Last book: Siddhartha. I’m deep in the trenches of analyzing it because I have to write a paper on it

Last movie: Wicked (Part 1). It was a lot better than I was expecting…

Last TV show: Uhh. I’m gonna be honest I haven’t watched any actual shows in a while. I don’t remember. My guess is a couple episodes of Black Clover that I rewatched on a whim a couple months ago but I really don’t know

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: I have an enormous sweet tooth and I’m not sorry about it. Yet.

Relationship status: Single 👍 yippee

Last thing I searched: “fgo Anastasia Interlude”

Current obsession: Still the fate series in general but as of yesterday Diarmuid was roughly forced to the forefront of my mind again. I do not control the hyperfixation

Looking forward to: Winter break (said as if I am not currently on Thanksgiving break)

Favorite drink: I’m a hot chocolate truther and that might just make me god’s strongest soldier

Song playing in your head on loop 24/7: Muse by Derivakat and Down to Hell by Man on the Internet have been tag teaming me

Current favorite character: As mentioned, Diarmuid. But if you’d asked this literally two days earlier I probably would’ve said Dantès or (NOOT DON’T LOOK FGO SPOILERS) Salieri

Fun activity you would like to get into: I haven’t been on hikes in a long time… I yearn for the outdoors

Last video game: (sighs, looks guilty) Fate Grand Order

Last comic/graphic novel/manga: A few weeks ago I finally read the last installment of the Amulet series by Kazu Kibuishi and I might just need to reread the entire series to remember out if it truly wasn’t written well or if I’d misremembered some things

welp! That’s it with me ^^ I don’t wanna tag anyone, but any of my mutuals are free to fill this out on their own

#artbabble-tm #tag game

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imagine-that-one-thing · 7 months ago

Text

Chapter 6 "Prelude to the Seine"

Minor Smut Warning

Word count: 9,659

Harry x Anastasia || Fanfic series

Master Link || Chat with me

•••

Harry’s pov

I swivel in my chair in the security chambers, watching as Oliver monitors the cameras. The palace is relatively boring when everyone’s off doing their own thing. The king is hiding out in his office, requesting nobody bother him, and the Queen is out shopping, at least, that is what the Queen wants us to think. I know better, she’s at an underground bar drinking in a disguise— she is seemingly having a rough time. As for Anna, she’s somewhere in France on a royal duty, ignoring me entirely. Anna hasn’t spoken to me much since she told me not to come on the small tour, I opted to respect her wishes and stayed at the Palace where it is calm. A little too calm.

My phone rings and I bring it to my ear, “This is your hundredth call, do you miss me?”

Niall chuckles on the other end, “Oh, so dearly,” he jokes, “I only have a few minutes before I’m thrown back into the media propaganda your girlfriend signed me up for but I think you should fly out here.”

“Why?” I ask.

“They’re giving her hell.”

“She doesn’t want me there,” I shake my head despite the fact he cannot see me. If Anna wanted me to attend France with her, she’d have told me. Instead, she bitterly told me not to attend and that she’d prefer to go without me. I’m respecting her demands. Her wish will always be my command, even if it’s out of pettiness.

Niall sighs, “This trip is tearing her down and she’s too stubborn to admit it. It’s pretty rough out here.”

“That doesn’t sound like something I need to be a part of then.”

Anna, stubborn? Never.

This woman is going to give me a run for my money.

“Mate,” Niall begins, “Get on a plane and come here. You love her and she needs you. Whether she admits it or not, she’s having a hard time.”

“I’ll think about it.” I dismiss the conversation and Niall sighs before bidding me a goodbye and hanging up.

I sit and stare at the monitors, my phone in my hands as I take a breath. There’s a fine line when it comes to Anna. She doesn’t like to be coddled too much, and she doesn’t like to admit when she can’t handle what’s on her plate. I have purposely stayed away from any news articles or social media where I can see what’s happening on her small France visit as a solo Royal. I can’t save her from everything and she is not the type of woman to want to be saved every fleeting moment something horrific happens. She is strong and unwavering, a force of reckoning that nature can’t break down— Anastasia doesn’t need me to rule a monarch or continue on with her legacy, she doesn’t need me to be her saving grace— she is her own saving grace and her own destiny. She may want me, but she doesn’t need me, she can stand on her own two feet with her head high.

Despite everything, here I am, staring at plane tickets. They're ridiculously expensive at the last minute. I'm not even sure if I can make it to the boarding gate in an hour. And to top it off, I'll have nothing but the clothes on my back.

But as I grumble about the inconvenience, a small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. The things I'll do for this woman. I truly do love her, even if I don’t say it, and I don’t tell her I’ll marry her, I’ll lay my life down for her if it meant she never has to feel an ounce of pain again. I’ll do anything within my power to make sure she’s happy and safe.

I heavily sigh and stand to my feet, “Ryan’s in charge of you,” I look towards Oliver, gesturing towards Ryan. “Call me if there are any issues,” I mutter, wasting no time walking to the door and exiting into the cool tunnels.

I hurry my way through the palace, passing the staff who seem to be busy redecorating the palace for what feels like the hundredth time. The decorations and seasons are never ending. I stop in my tracks when I see the King emerging from his office with books in his hands. He raises a brow as he glances at me, “What has you hurrying out?”

“I need to leave,” I respond, petting my hands to my pockets, struggling to find my car keys, “Alaric, can I trade you my car for one of your drivers?” I question.

I don’t have time to run to my car, park it at the airport and manage to get the next flight out.

Alaric chuckles, “Depends, which car are you leaving me with?”

“The Audi,” I dangle the keys in front of him, “I prefer not to leave it at the airport.”

“Let me guess, you’re going to France?”

“Not if I don’t get to the airport,” I smile.

Alaric grows quiet for a moment before taking the keys from my hands, “You’re lucky I like you.”

“You like my car,” I shake my head.

“You going to come clean about my daughter yet?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir,” I respond, waving him off as I walk towards the palace doors, hurrying down the steps to where the line of blacked-out cars sit.

One of the drivers steps out of the car and waits for me to descend all stone stairs. He offers me a polite smile and I extend my hand out to shake his, “Heard you’re going to the airport.”

I nod my head, “That was quick.” I smile before I slide into the back seat of the car, my phone taking my attention as it begins to ding with messages. I glance down at the screen, a text message from Alaric’s assistant staring at me.

“Your flight to France will leave when you arrive. You will be escorted through a private terminal. The King has offered up the Private Jet.”

The King has his suspicions of Anna and me, and I have my suspicions that he secretly relishes in the fact his daughter is being obstinate and not caving with the monarchy’s requests. At some point he’s going to force my hand, all cards will be on the table and I’ll have no choice but to admit to him that he’s not crazy. His daughter and I are more than what we lead on. I’m not just her security detail and she’s not just a princess.

***

As I step out onto the balcony of the hotel room, I’m greeted with a breathtaking view. The room itself looks even more magnificent from this vantage point. The large windows showcase the elegant interior, with its tasteful furnishings and regal ambience. I turn around to see the room is bathed in soft, warm lighting, creating a cosy and inviting atmosphere. I can see the luxurious bed with its silky sheets and fluffy pillows, beckoning me to relax and unwind. The seating area is visible as well, with its comfortable sofa and stylish coffee table.

Anna steps into the hotel room, her movements heavy with exhaustion. The weight of the world seems to rest on her shoulders as she closes the door behind her with a deep sigh, leaning against it and closing her eyes. I can see the fatigue etched on her face, the lines of stress evident. She's dressed in black pants and a soft pink blouse, a departure from her usual attire. The nude heels she wears show a touch of elegance, but it's clear that she's not herself today. "Well, if this doesn't scream the breaking point of a princess, I don't know what does," I playfully remark, hoping to lighten the mood. Anna's eyes fly open, surprised to see me standing at the balcony doorway with my arms crossed over my chest.

“Don’t stop on my account,” I shake my head as she pushes off the door. As Anna walks from the door to the bed, I notice a slight limp in her step, as if she's in some kind of minor pain. Her movements are slower and more cautious than usual as if she's trying to minimize any discomfort.

"I didn't ask for your assistance," she says, her voice tinged with frustration, wincing slightly as she slides her jacket down her arms and lays it on the bed.

“Seems like you need it,” I respond, “What’s going on?” I softly ask, stepping towards her as she sits on the edge of the bed in defeat.

“You brought flowers?” She softly questions, noticing the flowers I placed in the room. “A lot of them,” she remarks, frowning for a moment as she stares towards the other vases I placed in the bedroom.

“I also brought an apology, but we can discuss that in a moment,” I respond. “What’s going on?”

Anna takes a deep breath and lifts her shoulders into a shrug, “I don’t know,” her voice is soft as she speaks. “I just—,” she trails off, wiping a tear away from her cheeks. “Why are you even here?”

She’s mad and I don’t know why. Well, I do.

“Are you going to be bitter with me?” I question, already aware of the answer. “I’m here because I love you, and it was brought to my attention that you were having a rough time on this trip. I’m here for you.”

“As my security guard?” Anna questions with bitterness lacing her words.

I shake my head, "No, I'm off the clock. I didn't get any instructions to come here. I came because it looked like you could use someone, but if that's not the case, just say the word and I'll leave." I gesture towards the door, ready to exit if that's what she wants. I won't overstay my welcome.

Noticing her silence, I nod. "I understand where I stand. I'll see myself out," I say, as her silence fills the room. If she doesn't need me here, I won't insist on staying.

As I reach for the door handle, I pause for a moment, glancing back over my shoulder. There's a part of me that hopes she might say something—anything—that could hint at needing my presence. But the room remains shrouded in her silent contemplation, and no words come to break the quiet tension.

Resigning myself to her apparent decision, I open the door and step through, letting the cool air of the corridor greet me. The sound of the door clicking shut behind me echoes slightly, marking the closure of this brief chapter.

As I walk, my thoughts linger on the encounter. Love, I've learned, has its limits. It requires openness and reciprocity to thrive. If she's not ready to engage, to lower the walls around her, then there's little more I can do. Her stubbornness, a shield that might protect her in the short term, could very well become her Achilles' heel in the long run. And as much as I might wish to be there for her, to catch her when she falls, I have to accept that I can't force that connection.

The realization stings, but it's a necessary truth. Love isn't just about presence; it's also about boundaries. Tonight, perhaps, I've set one by walking away—not out of anger or spite, but from a place of respect for her and for myself. And though I might not always be there to pick her up from the consequences of her choices, I hope she finds the strength to eventually lower her guard. I’m not like the others who are trying to corner her into something she doesn’t want. This is her world and I am merely in it.

I reach the lobby and immediately notice the crowd outside the hotel's glass doors. Curiosity and concern mix as I spot the variety of people gathered there—some with good intentions, others seemingly there just for the spectacle. A heavy sigh escapes me as my phone starts to vibrate in my pocket. Initially, I consider ignoring it, but curiosity wins over restraint when I see Anna's name on the caller ID. I pull out my phone and answer, "Yes, Anna?"

“Stay,” Anna's voice comes through the phone, unexpectedly soft and vulnerable. “Just stay.” It’s clear now—she had wanted my presence the other night but her stubbornness had kept her from saying it.

A moment of hesitation grips me as I process her words. I care deeply for her and don’t want to walk away, yet staying feels complex. Anna is fiercely independent and strong, a veritable force of nature that often leaves me bewildered. She challenges me on the days when I’m closest to giving up—though I’d never admit to her the toll it sometimes takes, especially under the weight of her high expectations and our relationship's secrecy. "Why should I stay?" I find myself asking.

There’s a pause on the line before Anna replies, her voice tinged with a rare confession of need. "Because even though I am stubborn and want to handle things on my own, deep down, you're the one I've always wanted by my side through all this. I've thought about calling you so many times but didn't want to seem weak... I’m sorry," she admits with a sigh. "I’m not perfect, and I just really need you to stay. You deserve to be heard out. You flew all this way, and I’ve been terrible."

"Okay, I will come back up," I respond, my decision made by the heartfelt honesty in her words.

Turning back from the lobby doors, I make my way to the elevator, my steps steady. Each floor I ascend, I feel a mix of apprehension and relief. This is what commitment looks like in action—choosing to return, to engage, even when the path is fraught with challenges. It would be easier to walk away before I get any deeper into things, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I have tried to talk myself out of this love and I physically can’t bring myself to do it. I love her more than I ever thought would be possible.

When the elevator dings at her floor, my heart quickens slightly. The short walk to her suite feels longer than usual, every step heavy with the weight of our past conversations and the uncertainty of what lies ahead.

I knock gently on her door, and when it swings open, I find Anna with a somewhat guarded yet hopeful expression. She steps aside to let me in, and as I cross the threshold, the tension between us starts to dissolve, replaced by a tentative truce.

“We need to talk,” she begins, her voice still carrying a hint of vulnerability. "I've realized that I've been pushing you away when really, I should be pulling you closer."

I nod, acknowledging her words. "I'm here now, and I'm listening," I assure her.

I sit on the edge of the bed beside her and she rests her head on my shoulder, “What happened, darling?”

“Which time?”

“Let’s start with why you seem to ne so down and go from there.”

“Oh, that’s a story,” Anna sighs. “The media here are insane, very suffocating.”

*** Anna’s flashback.***

The hardest thing is when there are so many people who demand your attention at once but you don’t know which direction to focus your attention. There are flashes and voices in every direction, rows of people all around me seeking to get a glimpse of me for an unknown reason. Over night I became what feels like the biggest media sensation the monarch has seen in decades. Majority of the world seems to love and relish in me, the other quarter… they hate my guts for exisiting. Moreover, they hate my guts because I am the spawn of my father. I am not sure what they know about my father that I don’t, but whatever it is, it is starting to cause a fire and the media want to know every detail of my life.

“I feel like I can’t breathe,” I comment as Niall walks beside me, my heels echoing the pavement and the shuffling of people behind me muffling the sounds around me.

“What?” His voice is laced with concern.

“Not literally,” I mutter.

I can’t breathe without people wanting to document it and report it like it’s the biggest news to hit the world. I know everyone seems enthused with my fashion choices, and on days like today when I’m wearing a bland outfit, I’m still followed. I want to get my itinerary done, that’s all.

Right now, I feel overwhelmed by the shouts and the ridicule directed towards me and my position in the monarchy. The comments from diplomats and the media only add to the pressure. It's a mix of opinions: some want me as Queen, while others despise the idea. It's challenging to navigate through these conflicting perspectives, but I'm learning.

The rush of emotions is overwhelming as the paparazzi swarm around us, their cameras flashing incessantly. It feels like the world is closing in, but I try to stay composed. The weather adds to the mix of sensations - it's not hot, but it's not cold either. It's cool and a little windy, with a gentle breeze rustling through my hair. Despite the chaos, the weather brings a sense of relief, a reminder that there's still beauty in the midst of it all.

As the crowd pushes and shoves, the cameras flashing in my face, I can feel the weight of the world on my shoulders. It's suffocating, with everyone wanting my attention. We don’t have enough security, nobody anticipated the extensive crowds. France has never been this chaotic. I look down at my heels, focusing on each step against the pavement, trying to block out the chaos. I feel like I am in the middle of bait fish, swirling around me, nowhere to move but in the direction they shove me in. I’m shoved from behind and the sides, stumbling into Niall but managing to catch mysel. Suddenly, everything happens in a blur. My vision goes black for a moment, and I find myself crumbling to the floor like a fragile piece of paper.

Gasps fill my ears as I feel my feet slip from under me, my body falling back onto the hard concrete. I take a breath, feeling the sting in my back from the impact, but I’m too stubborn to let it show in front of all these people and flashing cameras. For a brief moment, I contemplate staying down, finding solace in the escape from the suffocating attention.

But just as quickly as it began, it ended. Niall, with his comforting blue eyes, rushes to my side. His arms tenderly wrap around me as he pulls me to my feet. "I'm fine," I sigh, trying to reassure him and myself. The pain in my back lingers, a reminder of the fall, but I push through, determined to keep going. Determined not to give the media the satisfaction.

In the moment, my heart pounds with frustration and pain as I shoot a fierce glare at the crowd, desperately wishing to tell them to leave me alone. The weight of the situation hangs heavy on my shoulders as I shake my head, trying to shake off the negativity. With every step towards the car, my determination grows stronger, fueled by the need to find solace and distance myself from the chaos. It's moments like these when I realize the importance of prioritizing my well-being. I need a moment to myself, I need to go to the hotel and call it a day.

As I step into the car, a wave of longing washes over me, and I can't help but yearn for Harry's comforting presence. The urge to call him and seek solace in his voice is almost overwhelming. But I take a deep breath and remind myself that I need to find my strength in this moment.

It's a bittersweet struggle, to find a balance.

But I want him. It’s not a need, simply a want. Unfortunately, what I want and what I get are two completely different things.

*** End of Anna’s flashback ***

Anna looks at me and I heavily sigh, “I wish you’d have just called me.”

Such a simple task to help prevent this and she refused to do it. Why? Out of spite? She’s only punishing herself.

Anna moves her eyes towards the sunlight filtering through billowing curtains, casting a warm golden glow across the room, avoiding my gaze.

“They threw a straight jacket at me,” Anna whispers, the words barely leaving her lips. “I don’t know if it’s some sort of sick joke but they think I need it.”

“Again, why didn’t you just call me?”

“I'm trying to do this on my own.” … “There’s nothing you could have done.”

She is stubborn and independent, she doesn’t want to rely on me or anyone when it comes to her duties. She holds the title the best she can and doesn’t hinder anyone with the burden she carries.

“Why?” I question.

Anna grows quiet for a moment before taking a breath, “Because I’d rather do it alone than to think someone like you would ever step into this world and be by my side.”

Ouch

Someone like me? I’m a commoner in her world, I have no title.

“Anna,” I begin, “I never said I wouldn’t.”

I never once said I wouldn’t stand by her side in her world of chaos, and I never said I wouldn’t marry her, my words within the moment by the lake were misconstrued and she heard what she wanted to hear. Typical.

“You never really said you would. I don’t want to have this conversation right now. I feel like everyone wants something out of me and I don’t have anything to give, I don’t have it in me to fight this.”

“If this is about you asking me to marry you…” I trail off.

“Please, don’t make it worse.”

“Okay. But just know, I didn’t get to share my side,” I point out the fact she won’t hear me out or let me explain the moment from my point.

At the moment she asked me to marry her, I didn’t say yes because her world would not accept me as I am. Her world will furthermore turn upside down if and when it is revealed we are together, it will further fall into turmoil if we were to get married. I don’t think she is ready for the aftermath of our decisions. I don’t think she needs to add our relationship onto the plate of things she is already struggling to juggle amidst her father wanting to force his reign onto her and step down. At any given moment, he can call for his abdication and the fate of the monarchy is in Anna’s hands. At any given time her world can change and I don’t want to make it harder on her when it does. At any given point, my life changes, and my complications twist further.

“You don’t owe me an explanation. I don’t blame you for not wanting to be a part of this life.” …. “Can we just drop it?” Anna softly asks, “I’m tired, my back hurts, and I could use a long hug and—” I tenderly cut her off, wrapping my arms around her, pulling her close and allowing her to relax in the comfort of my embrace.

My explanations won’t make her feel any better in this moment, my thought process on things won’t help either. The only thing I can offer is a warm hug.

After a few moments of silence, Anna pulls away from my embrace and her eyes dance towards the flowers I have sitting on the antique table. “So, why so many flowers?” Anna curiously questions.

“One vase is for my apology, one vase is because I love you, and one vase is because I do want to marry you.”

“And the bottle of wine?” Anna questions.

“Figured you could use with some wine since this tour of yours is a shit show.”

“It would be smoother if you had attended from the start.”

I chuckle, “Ah, but you told me not to.” I remind her of her specific words for me not to attend.

Anna rolls her eyes and shrugs, “Didn’t mean it.” … “Since when do you listen to me anyway?”

“Bullshit,” I murmur, “You meant it, but you were too stubborn to call me and tell me when you changed your mind.”

Anastasia giggles and nods her head, “Mhm,” She hums, “I’ll take a glass of wine now.”

I carefully pour a glass of the crisp white wine, watching as its golden liquid shimmers in the soft light of the room. Handing it to Anna, I can see the gratitude in her eyes as she sinks onto the bed, seeking solace and relaxation. Kneeling beside her, I gently reach for her feet, helping her slip off her heels, one by one. The weight of the day seems to lift from her shoulders as I hang her jacket, making sure it doesn't crease.

As I take in the sight of her, a sense of tenderness washes over me. I know she's been through a lot, and I want nothing more than to provide her with comfort and support. Seeing her take a sip of the wine, her body visibly relaxing, brings a small smile to my lips.

“Is there anything else about your day you’d like to tell me about?”

Anna glances over at me as I lay beside her on the bed, “It was shit, paparazzi hounded me, I felt like an animal in a zoo, and the dignitaries I did meet didn’t take me seriously, they didn’t bother to bow or curtsy. I don’t usually care about bowing but they’re purposely being disrespectful.”

“Sounds like security needs to change their approach.”

“Mhm,” Anna hums, “Sounds like your team is slacking,” she chuckles. “Are you coming tonight?”

I grow quiet for a moment, debating whether to go with her or stay at the hotel. “Baby, if I go, it’ll be as security.”

“I guess I’ll settle with that,” Anna nods, “I’m ordering room service before I have to get ready for the next big event, do you want anything?”

“Get me whatever you’re having. While you do that, I’m going to go visit Niall,” I smile, pushing off the bed and adjusting my jacket. Anna nods her head in response and I make my way out of her hotel room.

***

“The fuck are you doing here?” Niall questions with a smile as he allows me to enter his hotel room.

“That is quite a nice hello,” I respond as he closes the door.

Niall shrugs his shoulders, “Aren’t you meant to be with Anastasia?”

“She is waiting for room service. I have a slight problem.”

“This sounds like I’m going to need a drink,” Niall chuckles, walking towards a bottle of whiskey on the counter, “Go ahead, tell me.” He instructs, grabbing two glasses.

I take a moment to notice Niall isn’t in a normal hotel room. He’s in a penthouse that oozes opulence. As I step into the expansive living area, I am greeted by floor-to-ceiling windows that offer panoramic views of the city skyline. The space is bathed in natural light, highlighting the sleek and modern design. The open-concept kitchen is equipped with crystal glasses and an array of alcohol. It's the epitome of luxury living and a bachelor pad.

“How’d you get a penthouse?” I question curiously.

“Anna didn’t want it,” Niall responds, “She didn’t want to be alone in such a large room.”

I look down at the flooring with a small sigh, my heart breaking at the realization of her doing this tour alone and possibly feeling lonely despite me following her instructions to not attend.

"She wants to get married. She's dead serious about marrying me," I confess, my voice filled with uncertainty.

"And?" Niall responds, his tone curious. “The only problem I see is the fact she wants to marry you of all people.” … “wouldn’t be my first choice but I’m not a woman,” Niall jokingly laughs.

"Am I the only one who realizes she's the future fucking Queen of England? We can't just go ahead and get married," I lament, my heart heavy with the weight of the situation.

Niall takes a sip of his drink before handing me mine, his eyes filled with understanding. "You can do whatever the fuck you want, pal," he says, his voice laced with determination.

"But the monarchy won't allow it. There's all this protocol, and I don't fit into any of it. That's why you're being used as a beard," I explain, frustration evident in my words.

Niall gasps playfully, "I'm a beard?" He pauses for a moment before continuing, "Mate, fuck the protocol. If you love her, that's all that matters. And before you bring up your previous work before joining the monarch, it’ll be okay."

His words strike a chord within me. "But the monarchy controls everything. How do I even begin to navigate this?"

I don’t know how to navigate the monarchy side of things let alone my previous career choice.

Niall looks at me, his eyes filled with conviction. "Just fucking marry her," he says, his voice unwavering.

I take a deep breath. "But... how?" I ask, my voice trembling with uncertainty.

Niall smiles a glimmer of hope in his eyes. "The monarch only controls you if you allow it.”… “Mate, I know you’re not this dense,” Niall laughs, “Jus’ go get married, don’t tell a single soul and fucking do it. It isn’t rocket science. Forget she is a Queen, forget the monarchy, forget it all.”

I stare at him for a moment, blinking a few times as I process his responses. He makes it sound simple and easy. Is it as simple as he says?

“The worst thing that can happen is her title is revoked, and from what I see, she doesn’t give a fuck about having a title. If you don’t marry her, someone else will. While The Sovereign is Head of State, the ability to make and pass legislation resides with an elected Parliament. Parliament won’t let her rule without a husband, her Father has no choice but to push me or any Prince on her. You better get in before it’s too late.”

"You know something I don't, huh?" I raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of my drink, intrigued by Niall's earlier comment.

Niall let out a laugh, shaking his head. "Nah, mate, I know nothing. Just playing the role of a beard," he replies with a mischievous grin. “Marry her before it’s too late. Her father won’t do anything if you marry her.”

I hum in response, grateful for his support. "Thanks for the pep talk."

Niall's expression turned serious as he leaned in closer. "Anytime, mate. Now, I have to get ready for my next event as a beard,” Niall informs me, “Heaven forbid I wear the same suit,” he gestures towards the hanging wrack of multiple suits, “It’s a nightmare trying to keep up with her world. My world as an under the radar prince is much more bearable.”

I chuckle, “I’m attending too, I feel your pain.” I respond before walking out of the penthouse and making my way back to Anna’s hotel room.

Anna’s POV

My breath catches in my throat the moment I realize I've missed the dress code memo—I'm clad in white while everyone else is decked out in crimson red. I wore white as the invitation stipulated. It feels like I'm adrift in a tumultuous sea, with all eyes fixed on me, and a whirlwind of emotions threatening to engulf me.

Glancing towards Niall, who appears unfazed by the situation, I find a sense of reassurance. He, too, stands out, yet his indifference is not detectable. "Do you want to leave?" he asks calmly.

I ponder his suggestion for a fleeting moment. Yes, I want to escape this uncomfortable spotlight, but I refuse to grant anyone the satisfaction of seeing me retreat. I want to scream into a non-existent hole and never return as I fall in. Despite the stares and murmurs swirling around me, I summon my resolve. "No," I reply firmly. "I'll manage."

Before I can even process the implications of my response, a dignitary approaches with an air of arrogance, commenting on my "bold choice of dress" with a smug grin.

Niall's swift intervention catches me off guard. His voice cuts through the tension with a sharp retort, defending my unconventional attire. "Bold choice for a bold Queen," he declares, his words laced with defiance. "I think it's a bit less subtle than your ego and shit-eating grin."

The dignitary recoils at the unexpected challenge. "That's rude," he sputters indignantly. "You don't know who you're speaking to."

Niall's response is unwavering. "I don't care about your status when it comes to trying to humiliate someone. Nice try, but she still outshines the rest of these broads."

"A social snubbing seems rather juvenile, doesn't it?" I remark with a confident smile, my tone dripping with subtle disdain. "Engaging in childish games like Chinese whispers hardly befits adults. Perhaps it's time for you to rejoin the rest of the giggling children," I suggest, gesturing dismissively towards the corner where the gossipers linger.

"It isn't my fault you are the laughingstock of walking royals," The man calmly comments.

"I'm well aware that my reputation might serve as fodder for laughter, but let's not underestimate the value I bring to this occasion by attracting attention," I assert, emphasizing my acknowledgement of being exploited for publicity.

My words cut through the tension like a knife, asserting my authority and refusing to allow their petty behaviour to diminish me. In taking control of the situation, I reclaim my power and refuse to be a pawn in their game.

***

As I weave through the crowd, Harry's reassuring presence by my side is a welcome comfort amidst the sea of scrutiny. With each step, his genuine compliments lift my spirits, offering a glimmer of confidence in the face of relentless judgment.

"Anna, you look absolutely beautiful," he murmurs softly, his words like a soothing balm to my battered self-esteem. "You're like a breath of fresh air in this sea of crimson,” he chuckles.

In moments of levity, he peppers our conversation with playful banter and flirtation, his teasing remarks a welcome distraction from the negativity surrounding us. "You know, Anna," he chuckles, his eyes sparkling with mischief, "I've always admired someone who dares to stand out. But I think we might have taken it a step too far with your fashion choices tonight."

His playful jests bring a genuine smile to my lips, momentarily easing the weight of judgment that threatens to crush me. In Harry's company, I feel seen, valued, and cherished—a rare source of warmth and affection amidst the chilly reception of the crowd. “Hush,” I chuckle.

Leaning against the bar, I feel the weight of the crowd pressing in around me, their expectations and judgments looming large. Despite the social obligation to mingle, I find myself rooted in place, unwilling to engage.

"This is different," Harry remarks, his voice tinged with boredom and frustration.

"We could certainly make it more interesting," I suggest playfully, leaning in closer to him. "You're making my head spin in that suit," I whisper, my lips brushing against his ear.

Harry chuckles softly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe it's because I fit in," he replies, a hint of teasing in his tone.

"Coat closet?" I inquire, my hand resting lightly on his back as I draw nearer to him. "I really want you.”

“We are in public.”

"Who cares? They don't like me anyway," I shrug, feeling a surge of defiance as I push off the bar and stride away, not bothering to look back as I know Harry will follow.

Weaving through the crowd, I navigate towards a quieter area, my heart racing with anticipation. With a mischievous glint in my eyes, I reach for Harry's hand, our fingers intertwining as we move with purpose.

Finding a secluded coat closet, I pull us both inside, the soft click of the door locking behind us echoing in the enclosed space. With a playful smile dancing on my lips, I turn to face Harry, the air between us charged with anticipation. As our eyes lock, a magnetic pull draws our bodies closer, until there’s barely an inch of space separating us.

With a gentle yet firm grasp, Harry pulls me closer, his touch sending shivers down my spine. Our lips meet in a fiery embrace, the kiss igniting a passionate inferno within me. Lost in the heat of the moment, I surrender myself completely to the intoxicating sensation of his lips moving against mine.

Every touch, every caress, sends shivers of pleasure coursing through my body, awakening a hunger I never knew existed.

As we lose ourselves in each other, time seems to stand still, the outside world fading into oblivion. “What are we doing?” he softly asks.

"I'm in a dress, so please, for the love of God, give me your all," I breathe out, "Give me you," I demand, causing him to raise a brow.

"Right here?" He asks, “You sure?”

Sometimes, you have to do what you have to do. There is nowhere else that we will be adorned with privacy.

"Any other time and place we are interrupted, right here, right now," I confirm. "There are no cameras, no staff, no interruptions, fuck it, fuck me."

Harry stands in front of me, blinking owlishly. I sigh and shake my head before moving to the side, my hand reaching for the door we entered from.

He isn't interested.

Abruptly, he seizes me and pushes me against the wall. My back hits the wall as one hand cups my neck and the other rushes to my hip, leaving very little space between us. His lips waste no time with leaving rained kisses on my exposed skin, butterflies in my stomach soaring with every luscious kiss settled to my skin.

He caresses my shoulder and bequeaths a trail of kisses leading to my collarbone, my fevered skin shivering at each moment his raspberry-red lips leave their mark. I tilt my head to the side as he advances to kiss the slender skin column of my neck, producing a meagre exhale to escape my lips.

Finally.

He urges his body closer to mine, and my breath hitches in my throat while he bites my neck mildly, just enough to enthral me. My chest rises up and down, and I sense his breath brushing my skin with every moment that transpires. He takes bold possession of my lips, kissing me vigorously and passionately with his sumptuous, sensuous and velour soft lips that drip with honey. My hands haste to Harry's physique, which deserves to be on statues, chiselled by the greatest artists. My leg encloses around his body to draw him closer, a wild desire and yearning to take power. His hand drifts to cup my boob, my body continuing to advance into his as tongues slip and surge in superfluous movements.

He takes his palm and glides it up to my inner thigh, my dress being of no concern to him. He takes his time, welcoming every inch of my inner thigh that he can, feeling every inch like a map for him to follow. Finally, he discovers the lace beneath my dress, and my palms clutch his shoulders. He glides a finger across the lace, my leg wrapping tighter around him while the other holds me up, keening anticipation humming through my veins.

I draw away from our kiss and let out a breath, my chest rising rapidly as he teases me with extremely light glides across the lace. "How much do you want this?" Harry challenges with a soft voice and a grin on his face. "Because I don't think you want this enough."

"I need you, now," I murmur, my fingers burrowing into his shirt while he brushes his finger over the lace of my underwear.

"You sure?" ... "Tell me how much you need me," Harry instructs, gradually positioning himself on his knees and thoroughly pressing his hand to the back of my thigh.

"Don't do this," I whine as he begins to kiss my skin, slowly making his way up my thigh.

Harry gently squeezes his hand on the back of my inner thigh and leaves a few more sweet kisses on my skin. I tilt my head back, my mouth allowing a small groan to escape as I am enthralled with him getting closer and closer to where I want him.

"I'm still waiting," Harry responds, his breath tapping my skin, driving me crazier.

"Harry, just put me out of my misery and—"I begin, frustrated with him, but my words trail off as he slides the lace to the side, ever so nonchalantly.

"And?" Harry questions, standing back to his feet, his hand pressed to the lace band of my underwear, tampering with my sanity.

"And do what you do best. Why do you make this so fucking frustrating you're—, oh," I trail off the moment he graces me with his presence and slides a finger inside me, shutting me up instantly. I tilt my head back and softly moan.

"Is that what you wanted?" He grins cockily, working his fingers in a circular motion, causing me to want more and more of his breathtaking movements.

"Don't stop."

Delighted with excited anticipation, he slides in another finger, my toes curling within my heeled stilettos, my hand clutching fistfuls of his shirt, my body focusing on the sensation he's dominantly advancing, his fingers twisting in a circular motion. My eyes narrow to half-mast, my head is tilting back, my nails digging into his shirt as he continues to grin. I needed this.

Harry chuckles as I begin to dance my hands along with the band of his pants, hinting at what I want next.

"Gettin' ahead of yourself already," Harry grins, "I'm not done," He continues, catching me off guard as he slows his circular motions and lowers himself back down to his knees. He rides my dress up and grasps the back of my thighs, kissing his way up my thighs. My fingers press his shoulders while my other hand holds my dress. He bites gently on my inner thigh, a small chuckle escaping his lips before I go weak at my knees, enthralled by the motions of his tongue.

His hands squeeze the back of my thigh harder, in turn, my fingers squeeze his shoulders as my legs begin to quiver. I feel the rushing, narcotic power building in my body, "Harry," I moan his name, fighting the power and squirming as he gets closer and closer to finding the exact spot I have been demanding.

I feel the building pressure, the climax coming at me in digging waves, but Harry stops. He stands to his feet, and I go to protest, but I'm stopped the moment he unbuttons his pants, thrilling me further and entering slowly. His hand presses against the wall, and we work together, at first going slow before he gradually inclines his thrusts, my hips moving to work with his.

My eyes roll to half-mast as my residence is broken and my body weakens, entirely falling into him with pleasure.

I catch my breath as he holds me up, my nails removing from their emended position on his shoulders.

I smile at him as my dress falls back to its original length and my leg unwraps from around him. He holds me tighter, my legs shaking even further.

"You okay?" He breathes, pressing me back against the wall while holding me securely.

I nod, "Just for future reference; I'll be getting you back for demanding praise before pleasure."

Harry shrugs as he drops his arm from me and begins to adjust himself and his pants. "You dragged me in here."

"If I had to wait for you to drag me in here, we'd never get anywhere."

"I'm sorry I prefer to pleasure you in complete privacy."

"Up your game, Styles," I smile, adjusting my dress.

Harry rolls his eyes, "I look forward to your revenge, darling." Harry winks as he cocks his head and looks me up and down, "Your quivering legs say you're satisfied."

"Very," I nod, "Next time, it's my turn to pleasure you."

Harry grins and agrees, "Revenge and all." ... "We have to leave before we are caught,” Harry whispers, kissing me sweetly and softly, enthralling me further. “or, we could leave and do this again at the hotel?”

“Give me twenty minutes?” I whisper, biting his lip gently before pulling away from him with a giggle.

“20 minutes,” he nods, picking up a white jacket off the floor and placing it over one of the racks, “Be ready.”

“I’ll be waiting,” I respond with a grin.

***

I take a sip of champagne, the sweet bubbles doing little to lift the weight of unease settling in my chest, I find myself scanning the room. Amidst the murmurs of conversation and the tinkling of glasses, I search for a familiar set of eyes, a gaze that I can lose myself in, finding solace and reassurance. But as I glance around, there's a palpable absence—a void where that comforting presence should be.

Instead, I feel like a stranger in a sea of faces, an outsider whose presence is tolerated rather than welcomed. Despite the grandeur of the event and the esteemed company surrounding me, there's not a single friendly face to be found. It's as if I'm here merely as a pawn, a prop for the publicity of the charity, my political power being exploited to boost their noble cause.

Beneath the veneer of camaraderie and philanthropy lies a darker truth—a truth that whispers of ulterior motives and hidden agendas. While they may shower me with accolades and praise in public, behind closed doors, I'm little more than a target for their machinations. They seek to use me for their own gain, to elevate themselves at my expense, all while casting me as the laughingstock of their clandestine games.

Amidst the glittering facade of the event, I find myself grappling with the harsh reality of my position—a position of power and influence, yes, but also one fraught with betrayal and manipulation. And as I navigate this treacherous landscape, all I want is one thing: Harry.

The weight of the world bears down on my shoulders, pressing relentlessly until I feel like I might crumble beneath its crushing force. All I want is to release that burden, to let it fall and shatter into irreparable pieces, scattered across the ground where they can never be reassembled. Perhaps in the chaos of shattered fragments, I might find some semblance of peace—a respite from the relentless pressure that threatens to consume me.

Tonight, I've been made the object of ridicule, the subject of whispered conversations that follow me like a shadow amidst the sea of crimson dresses—a sea teeming with vengeance, malice, and envy. My dress has been trampled upon, my path obstructed by subtle yet deliberate shoves disguised as accidents. Yet through it all, I've maintained my composure, standing tall and resolute.

I am the future Queen, and queens do not falter. They do not yield to the sting of humiliation or the ache of betrayal. Instead, they forge ahead with unwavering determination, their gaze fixed firmly on the horizon, their resolve unshakeable in the face of adversity. Unfortunately for me, I’m faking it until I make it.

The room is cold despite the press of many bodies. As I stand isolated amidst the chatter, an usher approaches with a small, polite smile. "Anastasia, here is your coat," he says, handing me a folded item before pocketing the note card with my name. "Wait," I call after him as something feels amiss. I unfurl the garment, and a chill runs through me—it's not my coat, but a white straitjacket, cruelly disguised as courtesy. My heart plummets, confusion and horror swirling within me as I scan the room, trying to discern who might have orchestrated such a vicious joke.

I clutch the straitjacket tightly against my chest, masking it as best as I can. My eyes sting with unshed tears; I need to get out. Moving quickly through the crowd, I push past oblivious guests, each brush a reminder of my urgency to escape. The exit seems agonizingly distant as my focus narrows to those glass doors—my lifeline to fresher air, to a sliver of sanity.

Suddenly, I collide with someone. "Anna?" a familiar voice questions, but I don’t stop to acknowledge Niall or his concerned gaze. I can't afford to—every moment here is a moment too long.

The glass doors are nearby yet seem impossibly distant as I fix my gaze on them, relying on their promise of escape to steady my breath. Maybe the air is fresher on the other side, maybe life is kinder there. Suddenly, fingers curl around my wrist, pulling me aside, and the doors vanish from my view. I recognize the touch, and I know whose eyes are searching for mine, but I can't bring myself to look up. "Anastasia,” his voice is soothing, like gentle waves caressing the shore, soft and comforting. Unable to hold back any longer, tears overflow, tracking down my face. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat echoing my desperate need for space, for air. I wrench my wrist free with a quiet determination and push through the last few feet separating me from the doors.

I push through the heavy doors, my escape almost thwarted as my dress catches on my heels. I stumble throwing the straitjacket to the floor before quickly regaining my balance, pausing to gather myself and notice the small tear at the hem of my dress. The tears are still evident, cascading uncontrollably down my cheeks like a relentless waterfall. The realization hits me hard—I can't do this anymore. I am the pawn of cruel jokes, a pawn in a game I never wanted to play. I hastily wipe the tears from my cheeks, each swipe of my hand a feeble attempt to erase the humiliation and pain that overwhelm me.

My heel not only ripped my hem but also at the straps of my dress. I notice one small strap is now broken, hanging loosely down my chest. Frantically, I press my hand against the thin material, trying to hold the dress in place and conceal my cleavage. The vulnerability of the moment intensifies my discomfort, adding a physical exposure to the emotional rawness I'm already feeling. Every step becomes a careful calculation, my other hand clutching the fabric to keep myself covered, as I navigate away from the scene with as much dignity as I can muster.

As I take a step forward, I collide with another figure—Harry, who always seems to be just where I least expect him. "Why are you everywhere?" I mutter, frustration and distress mingling with the tears still streaming down my face.

"Oh, Anna," he replies softly, his tone laden with concern and something akin to tenderness, yet all I feel is the crushing weight of humiliation and vulnerability forced upon me back in that room.

I shake my head and step away from him. I don’t want him, or anyone else for that matter, to see me cry. I don’t want to be seen like this.

As I step outside, the cool night air brushes against my face, sharp and liberating. I pause, allowing the chill to wash away the stifling warmth and turmoil I left behind. The streets here are quieter, the night’s embrace a stark contrast to the harsh lights and even harsher stares at the event.

Suddenly, a flash catches me off guard. Before I can react, another burst of light confirms a photographer has caught me in this vulnerable state. As I brace for more, a figure steps in front of me, blocking the subsequent flashes. “Wrong door,” Harry mutters with a sigh. “It’s okay,” he reassures, swiftly draping his jacket over my shoulders and buttoning it up to cover my compromised dress. His quick thinking spares me from further exposure, though he can’t shield the tears streaking my makeup or erase the night’s indignities.

He turns to face the barrage of flashes, effectively shielding me with his body. Behind his back, his hand seeks mine, fingers intertwining subtly as he guides me through the throng of relentless paparazzi. I keep my head down, relying on his presence to protect me from prying eyes and cameras that are eager to capture every moment of their headlines.

He guides me into a secluded alley before opening a nondescript door. For a moment, I fear we are re-entering the event I’d fled, and I instinctively loosen our intertwined fingers. “I don’t want to go back in,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

“We’re not going back. We’re just waiting for a car,” he reassures me, gently pulling me closer to him. He presses me against his chest, his hand cradling the back of my head, soothingly stroking my hair before his grip shifts to the nape of my neck. As tears begin streaming down my cheeks, my quiet crying soon transforms into soft sobs, my tears soaking into his shirt.

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, his embrace tightening as his other arm wraps around my waist. Though I hadn't intended to let my guard down, the floodgates open—I can no longer hold back my emotions.

The raw, self-doubting thoughts swirl through my mind. "Maybe I'm not cut out for this," I confess, the words thick with despair. "I don't have the mental or emotional strength to deal with being ridiculed, or being handed a straitjacket as if I belong in an asylum." A bitter laugh escapes my lips, tinged with irony. "Maybe I do belong in one, and I don't even realize it."

Tears cascade down my cheeks as I finally muster the courage to lift my eyes to Harry. There's a desperate need in my gaze—a profound longing for reassurance that everything will eventually be alright, despite the overwhelming evidence to the contrary. In his eyes, I search for a sign, any indication that I can find solace and strength to continue amidst the chaos that has enveloped my life.

“You are not crazy, you’re human and you don’t need these people’s approval for anything. All that this place is known for is the river Seine.”

A small chuckle escapes my lips at his attempt to lighten the mood. "It's known for a lot more, I appreciate the gesture though," I reply, grateful for his effort to bring a smile to my face amidst the chaos.

"It's a fashion house, but from what I saw, they seem to have a rather limited colour palette," Harry quips, his tone playful as he nods towards the sea of crimson-clad guests behind the walls.

"And here I thought they were just really committed to a theme," I quip back, a hint of amusement colouring my words.

These feelings of inadequacy and confusion, magnified by the night's harsh events, weigh heavily on me. The public persona I'm forced to maintain feels like a mask that's cracking, revealing the fragile reality beneath.

“I don’t want to do this anymore,” I whimper, struggling to stop the tears that continue to pour down my cheeks.

“I know, baby, I know,” Harry whispers, pulling me back into his chest and holding me tightly.

In his warm embrace, I find a haven from the storm raging within me. In this moment, nothing else matters—not the whispers of the crowd, nor the prying eyes of onlookers. All that exists is the comforting strength of his arms enveloping me, anchoring me to the present and soothing the turmoil in my heart.

As tears stream down my cheeks, his touch becomes a lifeline, guiding me through the tempest of emotions with unwavering tenderness. His whispered words of comfort wash over me like a gentle breeze, offering reassurance and support amid my turmoil.

Sensing my need for a more comfortable space to release my emotions, he gently lowers us both to the ground, cradling me in his arms as I allow myself to fully surrender to the weight of my tears. Here, nestled against his chest, I find solace in the softness of his embrace and the warmth of his presence.

In this moment, amidst the chaos and uncertainty, I find peace. In his arms, I am safe, I am loved, and I am understood, I am home. No matter where we are, he is always my safety net, my home and the person I look for in a crowded room.

After some time and Harry allowing me to cry into him, we make our way to a black car parked at the curb. Harry manoeuvres me ahead of him, opening the passenger door with a protective urgency. I quickly slip inside, and he follows, shutting the door behind us with a reassuring thud. This car isn't part of the official royal fleet or any of the usual rentals—it feels more personal, more private.

As he drapes his arm around me, I release a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding and lean into the warmth of his embrace. “The hotel, please,” Harry informs the driver.

“How does he know where to go? He wasn’t our driver.” I ask.

“He knows,” Harry responds softly, “How about we crawl into bed, finish watching that series you’ve been watching and order some room service? I’ve heard the desserts are delicious.” Harry offers in an attempt to lighten the mood and the events of the night.

I nod my head in agreement. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do than curl up in bed with him and forget the night and this life I have been thrown into.

#harry styles imagines #one direction imagines #imagine one direction #harry styles fanfic #imagine harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #one direction fanfic #harry styles blurbs #harry styles blurb #fanfictions #one direction fanfiction #fanfics #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fic

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theriverbeyond · 1 year ago

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hmm very interesting and good thoughts! while i think you're right that contraception exists in the tlt universe, id guess that necromancers might be discouraged from using it in a way that non-necromancers might not be--iirc, necro birth rates are much lower than those of non-necromancers, so using protection might seem counterintuitive to people who already struggle so much with conception

i think that necromantic aptitude is not neatly tied with genetics -- i forget specific quotes atm but i BELIEVE this is established in the book which means that there's not a specific reason for non-necromancers to be encouraged to have kids any less than necromancers.

i also think conceptually contraception might be viewed differently in the House System due to the viability of womb vats. I think the 9th is too poor for that iirc but it seems fairly common place on Houses such as the 4th (where they "need spares") and I'd be unsurprised if it was common on the 2nd, 3rd, 5th, 7th as well, aka houses that seem better off economically. The 4th at least we know often conceives its children uh, posthumous to the parents (as seen w Issac) so like, it seems entierly possible for someone to bank genetic material in service of creating more blood for the gears while at the same time choosing to never personally give birth.

on the 9th house especially, I can imagine back in the day before they became destitute and vat wombs were more economically viable to maintain, the cultural idea of an individual having a child could be completely alien! especially as "providing genetic material for a child" could be entirely divorced from the concept of birth, and with all children in the House being raised communally (i.e. in the creche) it is easy to imagine the culture on the whole just not really thinking of one specific child belonging only to a specific person/set of people (outside of like, the inherited Line Of Anastasia)

the only house i think would be personally against the use of contraception would be the 6th, which has TWO whole branches of its military specifically designed to fuck as much as possible. MUCH to think about

#ty for this ask anon im chewing #ask #anon #lyctoral reproduction #ish. not really. but it goes in the tag w the other post so

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hypocriticaltypwriter · 1 year ago

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Fankid Ask game for the little vampys🩶

💬: what was your child's first word? was it a nickname for you or your f/o or something entirely different?

🪁: does your child enjoy learning about their parents' hobbies, or do they prefer to find their own?

🍼: what's your child's comfort item and where did it come from? is it a hand-me-down?

🧁: what's your child's favorite thing in the world? what's their least favorite thing?

AAAAAAAA THANKS MJJJJJ :D 💜💜💜💜

WARNING SUPER LONG INFODUMPS BELOW IM SO SORRY I MAKE YOU SIT THROUGH THESE I LOVE YOU FOR IT-

YOU DONT HAVE TO READ THROUGH IT ALL 💀😭💀😭

💬: what was your child's first word? was it a nickname for you or your f/o or something entirely different?

David's daughter Anastasia had been super quiet and hadn't made much noise other than a few cooes and squeaks till she was around one or one and a half.

Her first word ever was 'Dav', and she'd crawl or walk around the cave, repeating it until David found her or aided her in what she wanted/needed. Another silly thing is he'd always correct her when she said it, too.

"Dav-id. With 'id' at the end-"

"Dav!"

"Don't interrupt me."

Of course, once she got bigger, it developed into Daddy or Dad. When learning Chrysta's name, it was just an easy 'Mama'.

Now Jennifer, Dwayne’s daughter, had a rough time learning the difference between mom and dad. Due to some issues during Jenny's birth, Chrysta was left in some pretty bad shape for a good few months, so Dwayne was around to help more than he was expected to.

So Jennifer had actually started calling Dwayne 'Ma' or 'Mama' when she was becoming vocal. Of course, it didn't bother Chrysta or Dwayne too much, but he'll admit it was kind of embarrassing when he was on the boardwalk and his baby girl had called at him happily 'Mommy!'

"Jenny, it's 'daddy' see? I'm 'daddy.'"

"OK, mama."

"No, Jen -"

Paul tried soooo hard to get Tiffany's first word to be 'Papa' or 'Daddy' the poor guy spoon fed her books about it, making sure to linger and explain the specific pages including daddy animals or point out the parental figure considered the dad.

But it seemed no matter how hard he tried. Her words were always 'Mami!' Which soon followed a 'fuck' under Paul's breath.

... He didn't learn his mistake until one night on the boardwalk Tiffany had run a little too fast and dropped the ice cream cone Paul had just bought for her... And she exclaimed very loudly:

"FUG!"

Paul didn't know whether to be laughing or dreading what he had to explain to Chrysta later that night.

"Now Tiff, those are very bad words- and their not nice to use, especially in front of Ma...

But you're aloud to say it one more time for Daddy and his friends."

Katherine learned how to say Mama first due to Marko referring to Chrysta with it 24/7. Marko knows its cause he says it every dawn before they go to sleep, but he likes to think it's just imprinted into her little brain due to him always giving Chrysta's tummy two taps of his fingers, and saying 'hey little mama' while she was pregnant with Kat.

Chrysta also thinks it's the most darling thing whenever Marko goes: "Goooood night mama." Soon to be followed by Kats: "Guuuuuu night mama!"

Christopers first word was actually one David wasn't happy to hear. At all.

David left him with Marko and Paul for five minutes. Five. And the moment he saw the mischevious smirks from his mates as his son was being handed back to him while gumming down on a cherry lollipop, he already knew they'd done something. And the second he opened his mouth to ask, he heard from his darling baby boy's mouth:

"Bith!"

Oh, sweet heavens above he was going to murder those two.

"Chrissy. I'm Daddy. I'm not your-"

"Bith! Bith, bith, bith-"

*sounds of muffled devastation and full unadulterated rage into his coat sleeve*

🪁: does your child enjoy learning about their parents' hobbies, or do they prefer to find their own?

All the girls+ Christopher (once he's old enough) collectively enjoy hunting or going on the boardwalk with their dads and mom. But they do each have their own things they like to do with each parent!

Anastasia likes learning to drive David's bike. Spending many late night hours riding around on the beach or through the fog of Hudsons Bluff with David. It's intense and thrilling, but she feels safe on the back or in the front of her dad's bike and has never at all felt like she'd get hurt or be in danger.

It's also nice when he sneaks off to go do it with her and only her - no siblings or mom and dads involved. Just a night between her and her dad for once.

She likes doing her makeup with, for, or getting it done by Chrysta. Since she isn't exactly risking mirror checks by walking into salons or makeup booths, it's nice to be able to keep herself well groomed and spend quality time with Chrysta.

She gets her hair done or nails made pretty, all while telling her mom about a cute boy she saw on the boardwalk she knows if she told David about he'd never get off her case. 🤭

Jennifer likes making jewelry with Dwayne. He always brings back teeth or cool bones he finds and teaches her how to tie or braid them into necklaces or anklets.

He also likes braiding her hair and putting beads in it- (This kids got his thick hair and Chrysta didn't go through 9 months of heartburn for it to not be taken care of.) teaching Jenny the same while being her personal model to test it on. Even if his hair ends up in knots, he praises her for her hard work. 🙏🥺

Jenny likes stories with Chrysta. She always tells the best ones while she's falling asleep or unable to sleep. In all honesty, she just seems to like Chrysta's voice. If she's being honest, her mama has a calm, lulling hum that makes her feel all cozy and safe.

Tiffany loves- and I mean LOVES dancing with her Daddy. Paul's always blasting music on his boom box and it's blasting twice as loud when it's just the two of them left in the cave.

Either their thrashing their heads together or jumping around the water fountain screaming along to the heavy metal, or he even plays a few of Tiffs favorites (a few Disney CD specials he stole once 🤫🤫)

But Tiff adores when Paul holds her on his hip and sway along to some slow dance songs, tiring her down after the few songs involving moshing and swinging. Even humming a little to them while doing some twirls just to get her to giggle. 🥺

Tiffany likes quality time with her mama! Maybe for the fact Chrysta can't say no the the perfect little puppy dog eyes she gives but does this girl no how to get spoiled rotten.

She likes being able to go around the boardwalk and walk through stores or booths looking at things, especially anything that sparkles. Chrysta has had to pat down her own child for jewelry snatches sneakily away from booths before.

Now. We all know Marko’s got to know at least a little handiwork when it comes to sewing or stitching. I mean, have you seen this man's jacket? He's bound to teach his offspring a little bit of his magic.

Katherine enjoys sitting on Marko’s lap as he either works on a new patch in his jacket or fixing up some of her own clothes. It's probably one of the only things she stays completely focused on and stays still,making sure to listen to everything he says.

He let's her take a go a few times- but that only lasts ten seconds before she's crying about poking her fingers or her hands are tangled in thread.

Kat likes dressing up with Chrysta. The two like looking through some old clothes or stolen goodies and putting on their own little fashion shows in the cave.

Since mirrors are a no-go, they like putting on the most flashy or hideous combination you could imagine and trying to make one another laugh.

Christopher likes learning to fly with David. David is probably the most safest option when it comes to difficult or riskier tasks to learn and he knows it.

Chris struggles getting the hand of it, and sometimes David can't fight the smugness when his son just likes to ride on his back or curl up underneath his buttoned up jacket while hovering around.

You know how mama bats hold their young in their wings when their upside down or something? That's how David holds Chris in his coat LMAO if anyone needed visuals.

Watching movies with Chrysta is one of the things Chris holds dear to his heart. Especially in his younger years when he's still not old enough to join hunting, his mom will happily stay behind and binge some cheesy cheap horror movie or soap opera with him.

I mean, they'll watch anything they can get their hands on, especially knowing they can easily get Max to give up a few VHS with the 'Grandpa' card.

🍼: what's your child's comfort item and where did it come from? is it a hand-me-down?

Anastasia's sentimental item is a pocket knife her dad used to have all the way back in 1900 when he was a pick-pocketer. It's not in the best shape, obviously, but it's a piece of him back before his immortality, and Annie is extremely intrigued about her father and his mates past.

Jennifer's comfort item has to be the skirt she seems to wear and never take off. It's sewn with multiple bits and pieces of beaded or detailed fabric her dad can find, and mom can sew. Chrysta could swear that sometimes Jenny purposefully makes tears or holes in the skirt just so Chrysta can add more to it.

Tiffany probably considers anything she owns as a comfort item - she's kind of a hoarder in the making with her collection of trinkets and jewelry Paul has spoiled her to death with. She does love the red lensed sunglasses passed down from Chrysta to her.

Katherine's jacket is probably the second thing she loves most in life. The light pink fuzzy thing couldn't be pried of her very body if one tried. Marko bought it for her after he saw the sparkly rhinestones on the front of it that spelled out 'Princess' in cursive. Ever since Marko told her that she's "Daddy's little princess," this kid has a COMPLEX.

Christopher's a little dude, but he's probably got David's coat promised to him when he's older. If you want to see David turn into a puddle of goo, just watch his son waddle over to him and crawl underneath his coat and snuggle with his dad. Or the times at the boardwalk where he'll play hide and seek with Dwayne and hide underneath it if David's standing around.

🧁: what's your child's favorite thing in the world? what's their least favorite thing?

As dangerous as it is, Anastasia loves the sunlight. The very thing that could kill her in a matter of painful seconds is the thing she's completely fascinated and intrigued by.

She can't help but feel a bit envious of humans who are able to feel the sun on their skin without agonizing pain to follow. Let a sunrise run up their fingertips without having to pull away. She fantasized about the summer days her mom would tell her about whenever she asked Chrysta what sunshine was like when she was human... Sometimes, she thinks she and her mother have a mutual agreement that they both wish to experience sunshine at least once in their immortality.

Now the thing she hates? David's overprotectiveness. If there's anything she can't stand it's when her dad demands or orders her around- sometimes it feels like she can't go seven feet in front of him without him demanding her to come back and never leave his side for the rest of the night.

Jennifer's favorite thing is her Daddy's hair. Like I've said and will stand my it RELIGIOUSLY is that Dwayne’s hair is probably the most cared for and well groomed than most of the boys. And Jennifer LOVES to play with it or snuggle with it.

This man is 100% willing to spend hours sitting perfectly still while his daughter covers his head with bows, clips, flower crowns, and the most ghastly knots considered braids. Maybe a few tears of pain are shed when she runs the cheap plastic come through his hair a little too hard, but he's enjoying the time nonetheless.

Jenny DESPISES social interaction with anyone that isn't her pack. She's the shyest thing anyone in the coven has ever seen. Whenever they're on the boardwalk Jenny is hiding behind Dwayne’s legs or her mom's side.

And when she's allowed to split off and go with her sisters, she's following behind Anastasia like a lost puppy, eyes trained to the floor.

Tiffany's favorite thing is the beach! Paul gives off some very low surfer dude vibes imo,(I mean there's a split shot in the movie where we see some surfboards) but I don't think he does anything extravagant or hardcore- I feel he'd just swim out a a ways with Tiffany on the edge of his board and moonbathe for a little bit, laying on his back with Tiff on top or hanging her legs over the ledge, both taking a little nap.

As much as Tiffany likes the sea and the beach, she hates baths. She's like a feral cat clawing and clinging onto her moms arm to avoid touching the soapy surface of the bath at Max's home.

Now Katherine's favorite thing? Marko. You know how I said the thing she loves second in her life was her jacket? Marko takes first place. (Sorry Chrysta LOL.)

Kat loves her papa and clings to his very being like a koala. She's always making sure she's the star of his attention whenever he's around. If no one can find Kat, just look on Marko’s back, leg, or arm. She's probably latched herself onto there.

And the thing Kat hates is when Marko has to leave. Whether it be hunting or simply just a boys' night out, she's pouting and asking when he's gonna be back. She thinks any second without her dad is gonna end up with him in danger or hurt. She makes some of the cutest excuses as to why she can't go to bed so she can hopefully stay up till Marko gets back. She's definetly attached to this vampires hip but he isn't complaining. 🤷‍♀️

Christophers' favorite thing has got to be the boardwalk! The little guys eyes just get all big and excited at all the sparkling, twinkling lights and colorful stands or rides. He even starts to babble or squeal happily whenever the word affiliated with his favorite place is mentioned.

Christopher hates Daddy's vampire face. Like- when David and all the guys get vamped out, Chris'll start crying. It's similar to those videos with babies' reactions when fathers shave their beards for the first time in their lives.

It's worse when David does it on purpose to get a good laugh too, and he isn't doing anything malicious or cruel to scare his son, he's just holding him and this kid will go into hysteric sobs while hiding in David's coat.

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