#POOR HELENA AND SERA ...

[wgmbol]

Francis II and Marie Sophie, last King and Queen of The Two Sicilies. A carte de visite photograph by Alphonse Bernoud, Naples 1959. From my own collection.

Queen Marie Sophie of The Two Sicilies in 1924.

I found this interview with Marie Sophie online, it's in Italian so I google translated it. Far from perfect!! But it gives some interesting info on our Queen one year before her death.

Posted by Giuseppe Grifeo on 19 February 2022, grifoneartigliopenna.com.

Interview with Her Majesty Queen Maria Sofia

Published in Corriere della Sera in November 1924.

by Giovanni Ansaldo.

Maria Sophia of Bavaria, Queen of Naples, widow of His Majesty King Francis II of Bourbon. Not only does she still live, but she reigns. Duchess of Castro for the vulgar of hotel maîtres and bellboys, empress of the soul for me.

I love the beauty and dignity of tragedy in her.

There will always be kings, they will triumph over theories and revolutions, because tragedy is necessary, and they alone are its characters.

Poor men need living beings, freed by birth from the miseries of sentimental promiscuity and from certain conventions towards equality, from certain leveling of pain, from certain ménagements of respectability.

A few days ago, Queen Maria Sophia was rummaging through some old crates, which had not been opened for years.

She drew out two poor water-colours, two views of Vesuvius, sweetly veiled by a languor of exile, which had trembled in the hand of the amateur. Her trusty Barcelona, who was next to her, found them beautiful.

"Do you think so?" replied the queen, squinting her eyes and looking at the two watercolors in perspective. "Do you think so? My king painted them."

And she laughed.

The old queen of eighty-three years still laughs, softly or with a sharp convulsion, and a wave of blood still rises youthfully from her heart to her temples, to the root of her white hair; she still laughs today as in his father's house in Possenhofen, in the palace of Naples, in the casemates of Gaeta, at the time of her eighteenth birthday.

The great disdainful are inclined to laughter: it is, in them, an attitude of defense against life. Unlike her sister Elisabeth of Austria, Maria Sophia sought happiness.

She says it: "We, Duke Max's five daughters, used to call us die Wittelsbacher Schwestern, the Wittelsbach sisters, when we were young. We wore all five, black braids, drawn round just above the ears and on the forehead, in the manner of the peasant women of Oberbayern.

"Then we all took flight: Elisabeth became Empress of Austria, Helena became Princess of Thurn und Taxis, Matilda married Louis, Count of Trani, Charlotte the Duke of Alençon: but of all five, I was the one most disposed by nature to enjoy life."

Her design was therefore a slow and laborious conquest, her indifference being a crown far more glorious than that Norman monarchy.

The anxieties of recent years, the vicissitudes of a barely well-to-do old age, have not deprived her of her laughter, which even today veils her purple face, the purple of her intimate and victorious kingship, which the adventures of the world and of men cannot offend. Maria Sophia lives in Munich. She was the guest of her nephew, the son of Duke Karl Theodore.

The old palace built by Duke Max on Ludwigstrasse houses the headquarters of Deutsche Bank in the left wing; in the right wing, the Queen of Naples.

The young Wittelsbach princes, the new generations, have built themselves other mansions, in Bad Kreut, in Berchtesgaden, in Tegernsee: they bring with them valid servants: they have left the old queen two servants who wore with extreme decorum the livery of the Wittelsbachs, white and blue, and whom they enter with dignity into the antechamber naked, with a few yellow satin armchairs, but without, God willing, all the bric a brac of the private apartments of the poor and banal kings with kingdoms.

Two old retired servants, two maids, the secretary—this is Maria Sophia's court. The secretary is a man from Catania, Mr. Barcelona, who has been in the service of the queen for more than twenty years. And, he says, with the naïve and honest devotion of an employee.

The Count de La Tour, Baron Carbonelli, the Count of San Martino, the last gentlemen who surrounded the old Maria Sophia before the war, all dead.

"I'm the only one who replaces them," says Mr. Barcelona with infinite discretion.

"Her Majesty's estate was all invested in Austrian funds. You understand the consequences. The queen also owned a beautiful villa on the boulevard Maillot in Paris. It was there that, indeed, the war surprised us. Oh, all the adventures to send the German servants back to Germany.. The queen has Italian citizenship, she is Italian. The French Public Security was then very kind, for the passport. I said, "But you understand, gentlemen, you don't want an old queen to come to the commissariat in person!" They understood, and sent a delegate. Then came the moratorium of interests: we were already here in Munich. But the Wittelsbachs still helped the queen: the prince regent was on the throne. Leopold, the same one who led her to the altar, by proxy of Franceschiello. Many Italians, many, visited the queen in prisoner of war camps. The queen speaks fluent Italian, just a few French terms, but rarely: and they were surprised". And she explained it like this: "I am a lady, who knows Naples well". Or: "I'm a lady, who learned to speak Italian when I was young." Then she said: "Poor people! They are astonished to find me so much like them, for I ask if they have had their full ration of broth!" She gave all his Italian books to the prisoner of war camps.

At the time of the "republic of councils", the queen was accommodated at the Kaiserhof on the Stachus. The Spartacists defended themselves from the barricades erected right in front of the hotel, on Karlsplatz. The owner said: "But Your Majesty, I decline all responsibility." The queen laughed, and said: "My dear, absolutely not. I will not go down to the cellar. I want to see if at least the revolutionaries of today shoot better than those of my time." And she always watched from her apartment all the phases of the struggle.

General Epp, who commanded the government troops, liked her very much because she rode well. Then we left for Paris, boulevard Maillot, where we spent two years: from October '20 to October '22 (it is presumed that they are still the words and the story of the trusty Mr. Barcelona) Now, the beautiful house on Boulevard Maillot is sold. The last three Italian servants took their leave. This winter the queen would also have liked to spend the winter in Paris: we wrote to some good hotels, not the first ones: but what prices! One hundred francs a day. The queen, you will understand, has to fix at least three or four chambers. For this year you will have to give it up. As with newspapers.

In the past, we received about twenty newspapers, quite a few, even Italian newspapers: but how do you do it now? The queen still gets a few Italian newspapers, but so you know... So, when there's something interesting...

The secretary does not want to say his own words: "second-hand".

He's right. Kings cannot accept anything second-hand: neither the throne nor the newspaper.

I reflect: how beautiful and noble it would be if the greatest Italian newspapers sent a copy as a tribute to an old lady of eighty-two, who was... But yes. Not even to think about it. We would be accused of latent Bourbonism.

"That's the way it is with the mail. What a lot of mail you used to do, madam! The queen did a lot of charity, she paid small pensions. She wants to pay one even now, to old Giovanni Tagliaferri, of Caserta, who was with her at Gaeta: he is the one who still remembers more things than when the queen was young, and drove six horses, with a firm hand, through the avenues of Capodimonte. But also the mail, little by little... It was very sad when she had to suspend the subsidy to the hospice of small Italian glassmakers, at the Plaine Saint-Denis, near Paris."

"It was Sister Maria d'Ajutolo who is now dead too, who had taken her to see what the misery of those people was. Sister Marie d'Ajutolo was an energetic woman, who when she spoke of the horrors of the Plaine Saint-Denis, or of some other affair of the kind, would fix her eyes in the Queen's face, and say, 'Shame on you, Your Majesty.'"

And the queen replied firmly with conviction: "Yes, there is something to be ashamed of, Sister Maria."

When I told her that the subsidy could no longer be spent, the queen was sitting at her work-table on the other side, and repeated two or three times, looking into space, "Shame on you, Your Majesty." Then she added, "No one ever spoke to me so well as Sister Maria."

In fact, she had a high esteem for them.

Now, the queen writes to fewer people. In Italy she still has some friends from distant times: such as the Duchess Della Regina, who is also Countess of Macchia, of Naples.

For the 4th of October, which is the Queen's birthday, and for Marie's nameday, the Duchess always sends to ask what the Queen would like best. And you know, what do I always receive? A box of macaroni, with a little cheese and preserve, so much so that you can make some dry pasta.

And the Duchess always sends everything on time. The duchess is old too, she met the queen in Caserta, she never saw her again, from those days. But she still does the packing, I know the handwriting. You have to write on the address: "Liebesgaben".

Then at the border they don't open the parcel, the German customs don't open the parcels of gifts. "Liebesgaben", "gift of love". You are a great soul, old lady. You write with trembling hands the foreign word, the mysterious word, the word that must open distant frontiers to homage to the queen of your youth. "Liebesgaben", "gift of love...".

"The Queen, when she receives the Duchess's parcels, with Liebesgaben written on them, is very happy. She sends for an old Neapolitan, here from Munich (in Paris, there were the Tagliaferri, uncle and nephew) and has delicious dry pasta made, which she lets as many people as possible taste. The last time, she invited the Papal Nuncio, Monsignor Pacelli, to lunch: but such a confidential lunch, it is understandable: the Nuncio is very intelligent and knows the queen's condition. After all, few visits. the Kronprinz Rupprecht, who comes to be the Queen's nephew-in-law, when he comes to Munich from Berchtesgaden is always engaged in official ceremonies of military leagues, or whatever: he pops here to the palace, but only a few minutes."

"The Queen also had, some time ago, the visit of an Italian princess, who has now entered our House: Princess Bona. She comes to be her great-granddaughter by purchase, because Prince Conrad her husband is the son of a daughter of the Empress Elizabeth."

Mr. Barcelona orients himself in the Wittelsbachian-Habsburg kinship with the safety of a bat in a cave. And then, a few other friends. Every evening at five o'clock, the Queen's sister, the Duchess of Trani, comes. Matilda who lives at the Vierjahreszeiten hotel on Maximilianstrasse. To have tea. Then I do a little reading of the newspapers, because the Duchess of Trani, though less old than the Queen, cannot read easily, without glasses, like the Queen."

"The Duchess of Trani is eighty years old. The queen says that their speeches are as gloomy as that line by Schiller in the ballad of Rudolf of Habsburg: "Als dächt'er vergangener Zeiten" (as if thinking of times gone by) but she says it without regret. Then I always accompany the Duchess of Trani back to the hotel, which is quite far away, and because of the darkness some misfortune could happen to her."

"Rudolf of Habsburg, when past times seize him, and make him weep, sits at the palatine banquet, in the midst of his court, and can hide his tears "in the mantle of purple folds." Maria Sophia has only the purple of her face, which protects her from the ravages of the vulgar, from curiosity and compassion, better than the imperial mantle "des Mantels purpurnen Falten".

Standing next to her work table, straight as the trunk of a young pine tree, the queen receives. Beneath the fringe of her white hair, and the great and perfect arch of her eyebrows, the eyes look at the newcomer, and at the same time they look into the distance: She feels that she is on the edge of that proud life; guests, episode. The thin mouth is painful, yes, and for being good and benevolent, but it cannot smile with the easy and banal encouragement of charmeurs.

The queen who resists death so tenaciously has something in her face of those children, for whom one fears that they will soon die: this fear, this reluctance before life is the same on her face today, as in the portrait of her seventeen-year-old Piloty painted, before she was married.

Because of this anxious and disdainful face of hers, Maria Sophia is saved from obscene old age, she is the contemporary of all the generations that have passed: she is the ageless woman of the ancient Hellenic poem, who, struck by the misfortune of her house, yet not despairing of the justice of the gods, happy and proud of her own beauty that cannot be taken away from poor men, Praise the designs of fate.

The tone with which it asks the visitor for the name, the majors, the homeland, is frankly Homeric. The queen believes in the goodness of blood and the importance of at least clean ancestry. She also asks for years, and says her own, without any senile vainness. "I'm eighty-three years old. One more than Mr Giolitti. I'm very old."

The queen is silent. I furiously search my brain for the questions to ask her, the issues, the arguments. Nothing. That last sentence of his makes me feel like a portcullis, suddenly lowered on a window where I wanted to nibble with my curiosity. "I am very old": implied: "Let your words be counted".

I raise my head: the queen is motionless. I can't see or think of anything other than the two objects on the table: a white tricot work, and a newspaper.

I end up asking the Queen what newspapers she reads.

"I'll tell you. I myself read Les Journal des Débats and Le Figaro every day. My foreign policy is somewhat directed by Mr. Gauvain, whom I consider to be the first political columnist in Europe, the most informed, independent and systematic. I read Le Figaro for the mundane part. It is the only newspaper in the world that gives a good account of the marriages, the deaths, the vacations of my relatives and my relationships, and of good society in general: a much more important thing than you think. Then the Figaro is the only one I trust for literary reviews. I buy the books he says well about, the others I certainly neglect."

"And what about German newspapers?"

"So, the Müncheners, for what's going on in the city. But Munich is sad, you know. These people of Munich have lost their minds." The queen lowers her voice, and repeats several times: "lost my head."

"Mr. von Kahn is a man very devoted to the monarchy: but he has no head, no, no."

The queen still nods nods, with her nod, with indulgence, with pity. "I know him as godly, but headless men are."

When the Queen learns that I have also visited the Ruhr, she asks me if it is true that French troops are committing so many atrocities. I answer what I know.

"But I always thought so! It can't be that the French deliberately do what these newspapers say," says the Queen, leafing through an issue of Münchener. "I am glad that you give me moderate and unbiased information. This story of French atrocities in the Ruhr is like that of German atrocities in Belgium. All the same, all so the same, sir! What about "black shame"? There, too, it must have been exaggerated."

A pause, full of poor humanity. The queen narrows her eyes as if not to see how deceitful and filthy men are. "Mon cher monsieur, le monde c'est fou. There is no way to heal it. Each generation repeats the mistakes of previous generations, taking them for sensational novelties."

The queen is very well informed about Italian affairs. Of the reigning House, above all: it asks hermetic, sealed questions, of which only an initiate to court life could grasp the hidden meaning.

He is pleased that Prince Umberto is a young man: "It is a great fortune for a king to be handsome and handsome: if not, he ends up staying... to remain, as the French say, aigri [soured]. Queen Elisabeth of Belgium (Maria José's mother) is my niece: she is a daughter of Duke Charles Theodore. And also my favorite, because it was the liveliest, the most daring, the one that most resembled us as a child, the Wittelsbach sisters, when we were also children, in my father's house, in Possenhofen."

A great esteem for Empress Zita of Habsburg. "You see how fine it is: she was the only royal character who did not write her memoirs. The American publishers would have paid her for them too. But a queen writing her memoirs... The Empress understood that."

"The memoirs about me, you say? Oh, how many I began to read! But novels, all novels that I threw away in annoyance...". No Bavarian eagle. "I was a healthy, cheerful girl. But let's get back to Empress Zita. He has two misfortunes: the name, which is ugly, and that plane trip to Hungary: those adventures... But his son will return to the throne."

Arco, Deauville, Tegernsee, the house of the Orléans in Twickenhan, the villa of Neuilly sur Seine: against the backdrop of coffins of exiled kings, the wedding of young princes, the solitary rides of her, the re-enactor.

"Tell me. I saw a photograph in the Illustration in which some nuns greet the King of Italy and Mussolini with their arms outstretched in the Roman style. Is this accurate? Or is it a trick?".

"I think that's right, Your Majesty."

"Is it true that the Honorable Mussolini tries to have excellent relations with the Pope?"

"I think that's true."

"But it's natural, it's natural..."

I don't insist. I am afraid of the memories of her youth and her years of reign...

"You see, I'm poor. And I live here by permission of one of my nephews; for otherwise I would have to live in a suburb of Schwibing or Sendling. I need Monsieur Barcelona out of devotion, certainly not for the salary I can pay him. I don't even have the means to subscribe to some Italian magazine and to buy the latest news from Treves, as I had always liked to do. The Savoys were not chic with us Bourbons."

"That Don Giovanni Rossi, who was an employee of our Royal House, and who had custody of the borderò [payment slip] of four million ducats, my husband's very private property, went at once to present it to Garibaldi, as soon as he entered Naples, to make himself credited, does not surprise me; That Garibaldi immediately confiscated it, together with the borders of the other Bourbon princes, does not surprise me either; Revolutionaries have always done so with fallen kings."

"But that the Savoys, after they had annexed the kingdom of Naples, did not feel the need to show a little respect to the Bourbons, who had been very legitimate kings, like them, this is what still amazes me today, after so many years. Victor Emmanuel also knew that those four million ducats came from the dowry of Francis II's mother, they came from the inheritance of Maria Cristina of Savoy, they were the result of the sale of the allodial assets of the first branch of the Savoy, in Piedmont, and of Palazzo Salviati, in Rome."

"And he knew well that the villa of Caposele, in Mola, had nothing to do with the goods of the crown, with the royal palaces of Portici and Capodimonte for example; but it had been the very personal property of King Ferdinand and left by him to King Francis, my husband, in his will, in his will, as a free property."

"But he didn't make any distinction either, like Garibaldi. He was a king who behaved towards us like a revolutionary, and that is not good. The French republic was much more ladylike with the Orleans than the kingdom of Italy was with us... And now you tell me that the children of the King of Italy are healthy and beautiful and that they enjoy life. I am happy about them and I wish them well. But the way they treated us is a bad omen. God forbid that one day they too will not have to defend their personal patrimony from exile..."

But the queen thinks of it, gently. She speaks of her Italian servants, the last three she had: she knows precisely their names, what they do, where they are. "They were three southerners who remained devoted to me beyond any personal convenience, until it was I who sent them away, because... They were young, they had come to my service on the recommendation of some old friend, they had to start a family, it was no longer possible for them to waste their time around an old lady."

"You can make a lot of railways, a lot of roads, a lot of schools in those countries: men don't change, you know. They will always remain attached out of personal devotion to the master who will be able to convince them: the best soldiers in the whole peninsula, together with the Alpine mountaineers. I had Gaetano. Gaetano Restivo, a Sicilian from Ficarazzo, in the province of Palermo: now he is over there in his village, he sent me a box of oranges some time ago. The last tribute I get..."

"Then Luigi Tagliaferri, from Caserta, nephew of another Tagliaferri, who was with me in Gaeta. Then Gaetano Marsala, from Pescocostanzo in Abruzzo, who is now a shoemaker in Paris. This Marsala is a simple soul, and he always spoke to me about the Angevin crown that is preserved in the collegiate church of his town. He seemed to have tales when he told of the Angevin crown, which, as I understood, must have been in some sacristy of the Church, and Marsala as a child, must have admired it for a long time, when he was preparing to serve mass. For him, there was truly a lost kingdom around the crown of Pescocostanzo, full of all splendors... much more so than for me. A Sicilian, one from Terra di Lavoro, an Abruzzese: all the provinces of the Kingdom were right around me."

The voice lowers, wearily, falls. At the point of dying, I feel that the queen bids me farewell, leaves me again on the sidelines of her rich life, in which I deluded myself, in some accent, that I could look with clear eyes. She didn't let me glimpse anything of this life of her: only glimpses, perspectives on her thought: judgments, if you will: but of the deep life, nothing. In her tragedy, there were never confidants, and monologues were abolished.

When I am at the threshold, the queen understands my foolish disillusionment, and has an ironic pity for it. High in the middle of the room, she beckons me. Perhaps, now, the real one appears to me for a moment, the barbarous Maria Sophia of Wittelsbach, made to be a horse driver, the companion of conquerors, the mother of kings? But the usual bewildered voice murmurs: "You are young, sir: you will still see old queens, so many things, so many things..."

As I attempted my first courtly bow, Maria Sophia still nodded, sadly, to the adventures of the world; that she will never see again. But perhaps she was watching. also my plebeian clumsiness in my deference to Majesty, and the obstacle in which I was to leave the room, without turning my back, as I have read in the books that are practiced with kings: and she lamented these wretched times, when bowing before queens is not even taught.

[xcharmedxheirsx]

@xhelenaxleblancx​

Sera couldn’t stop fucking SHAKING. What the fuck was this? Well it was fucking OBVIOUS. It was yet another spiteful attempt at trying to make Sera JEALOUS. And it was fucking WORKING. She clicked off the video -- heart CLENCHING in her chest. And maybe there was a little bit of FURY there. But she tried her damnedest to TEMPER THAT before she finally replied. Downright GRATEFUL for the filter of text message. And that Helena couldn’t see the PAIN written across her features.

SERA: You really think I’m going to watch this whole fucking thing? SERA: It’s already deleted. SERA: You’re gonna need to try a little harder to get under my skin. ~~LIAR!!~~ SERA: Does Alex even know you sent that to me?

[lubdubsworld]

Insatiable ( Jungkook x OC) Chapter 2

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC!   Age difference!!! [ bet you’ve never seen all of this in one fic before? ]

[ Some notes : Born Vampires stop aging when they turn twenty five.  Turned vampires stop aging when they’re turned. ]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“You alright?” Somi asked gently, watching me fling  my backpack into the corner of the room with enough force to dislodge one of the wooden panels on the wall, the shelf crashing and bringing down the two potted plants on it. The sound of ceramic shattering made me wince, regret churning in my stomach. 

“Yeah...yeah. Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Somi.. I broke your pots-”

“Never mind the pots...why do you look so upset? Have you been crying?” She demanded , reaching for me, hands curling around my wrists and drawing me into a hug and I swallowed, my throat dry and eyes swollen from all the tears that I’d wrung out of them. 

Outside the room, Namjoon stood guard, at the door and I felt guilty remembering how the past three hours had gone. 

After confronting Jungkook, I’d stormed off in righteous indignation and poor Namjoon had been forced to follow. 

He had kept a discreet distance as I climbed to the tallest ridge on the roof, scaling the gables with ease and I knew he had been terrified at the prospect of me falling. 

Immortal or not a three hundred foot drop to the ground would be something that would hurt.

And it was my bodyguard’s job to make sure I did not get hurt. 

When he wasn’t busy fucking other women that is. 

I gripped my sister harder, fingers curling into the fir of her coat as I tried to catch my bearing. 

“Do you know Helena?” I whispered, pulling away to look at her. Somi’s face fell,eyes filling with sympathy.

“Oh, no. Was she here?” She asked gently, reaching out and cupping my cheeks and my lips wobbled. 

“Why didn’t you warn me that he was in a relationship?” my voice shook and Somi shook her head. 

“He’s not!! God, Helena doesn’t do relationships. Jungkook and her.... well, I’m not sure but they’re just fuck buddies..... barely that. You know she’s from the Kim clan right? Those bloodsuckers never settle for one partner. “ She muttered. 

I stared at her.

“He called me a child and then told me he’ll tell dad if i try to make a move on him.” I whispered. 

Somi flinched.

“Sera....”

“It was humiliating and painful and I don’t ever want to think about it, ever again.” I muttered. 

She sighed. 

“It’s not like you don’t have men dying for a glance from you, Sera. You forget that you’re literally the most beautiful woman in the clan. If he rejects you, you’re definitely not the one missing out in that equation.” 

I nodded, misery seeping into me. My sob-fest on the roof hadn’t been wasted. I was angry at first but now, a sort of resigned acceptance had taken the place of my anger. 

 The look on Jungkook’s face had been too real, the emotion behind his rejection too potent for me to get over. I wasn’t sure I could change his mind.

Wasn’t even sure if I wanted to. 

“Was he very hurtful ? You know, if you tell dad, he’ll hire someone else and-”

“No.” I said immediately. “ I won’t do that. It’s not his fault, it’s minge. I acted out like a...well a child to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything and he’s always been obvious in his disinterest. I was just too blinded my own attraction to consider that it wasn’t reciprocated.” I grimaced. 

God, I’d been an idiot and Jungkook’s words had knocked some good sense into my head. But I did care for him and his son and they needed this job. I wouldn’t put his job in jeopardy just because I didn’t get my way. 

I was better than that.

“Alright... Dad wanted to meet you for breakfast tomorrow.... He sounded serious. Do you know what that’s about?”

I groaned, when I remembered the reason my dad wanted to see me these days. 

“Dad wants me to start meeting men now. He thinks I’m old enough now that i’ve turned 21. He’s been badgering me for a whole entire month but I kept putting him off because of...well, because of Jungkook.” I admitted. 

Somi looked worried.

“You want to ? If you don’t we can talk to dad and-”

“No-” I shook my head.” I’m just gonna agree.” 

Somi looked surprised.

“Are you sure? Sera you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to-”

I smiled weakly. 

“I’m not going to be allowed to stay single forever Somi. Especially not when the entirety of dad’s day is spent trying to chase suitors away from the door. Do you know the Count from Jeju Do...dude’s a whole seven centuries old and he looks like a toad. He apparently tried to ask about me and Dad’s been freaking out.  “ I shuddered. 

Somi laughed.

“ That’s what you get for being you. But dad’s right. Keeping you away from everyone is only inviting more interest. And we don’t want you to be with someone insufferable.” She ruffled my hair and I hugged her again sighing into her shoulders.

No I didn’t want to be with someone who just saw me as some kind of a possession to be owned. I wanted someone nice and kind. A handsome man who did the right thing .  Someone who maybe, worked hard to give his kid a safe and protected life, someone who didn’t shun away from hard work and was a gentleman as well. 

Someone like-

“Someone other than Jungkook.” Somi said gently reading my mind. 

“I really liked him.” I whispered softly, feeling tears spring again. 

God, I thought I was all out of tears for Jeon Jung Kook but apparently I was wrong. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I took extra care with my makeup the next morning, because my father usually had a ton of business meetings during his breakfast. I didn’t usually bother but , I was going to agree to his suggestions today and well, nothing wrong in delighting my father. And nothing made him happier than seeing me prance about  with pretty feminine clothes . 

My dad, for all his jovial cheerful air, loved his position as the head of the Hwang clan. And as his most prized possession , I was the apple of his eye. And while he didn’t treat me as an object or anything ( my dad loved me deeply and his affection was always evident. ) , there was no mistaking the fact that my dad enjoyed the power that came with being my guardian. Powerful men were willing to bend to his will, just for a chance to be with me. 

I sound insufferable, don’t I?

Trust me I’m not. 

The vampires that court me are usually assholes. Entitled, brain dead assholes .  When I opened the door in the morning, dressed in a short summer dress and ready to meet my dad, I was surprised to see Jungkook standing guard outside. He straightened away from the wall where he was fiddling with his phone, his gaze flitting to me, eyes cold and blank. 

I bowed lightly, not smiling.

“Mr. Jeon. I have a breakfast date with my father and then I’ll be heading to the cottage. I’m also meeting a friend of mine at the Art Museum in the evening so i’ll need the Mercedes brought around to pick me up maybe at 5.00PM.” I said briskly, glancing at him. 

My face flamed red when I noticed his gaze, fixed steadily on my ass. I cleared my throat angrily and his eyes met mine, a slow lazy grin playing around his mouth. 

“You look different.” He commented , shamelessly giving me another once over. 

The nerve. 

I swallowed, willing myself not to blush harder.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

He chuckled.

“That dress barely covers your butt, angel. You sure you want to head to daddy dearest, dressed like that?” The way he said daddy made my skin heat up. 

I felt my jaw come unhinged. 

“That’s...that is none of your damn business.” I said shrilly.

He gave me another once over.

“Okay, then. If that’s what you’re into...fine. Let’s go.” 

Gritting my teeth, i tried to keep my face neutral. I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he got to me. I would not. 

I walked ahead of him , my fists clenched and my jaw tight and I felt incredibly upset because the day had barely begun and I was already wound tight. I was supposed to be relaxed and clear headed while talking to my father but Jeon Jungkook had muddled my brains as usual. 

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. 

“Sera, wait.” His voice made me pause and I stopped, turning around to glare at him.

“What?” I snapped. 

He sighed, deeply. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair, tongue pressing into his cheek the way it did when he was upset. 

“About last night-”

I felt my pulse quicken. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it!” I said quickly, turning back around to leave but his fingers came around my arm, gripping hard . 

“Well tough luck. Because I do!” He said sharply. 

I whimpered, pain blooming up my arm and he swore, loosening his grip.

“I keep forgetting you’re human.” He muttered, “ I’m sorry... I just... I wanted to apologize for how i handled things last night. I was twenty once and I should have been more understanding.”

I closed my eyes. Oh, God no. Please, please for the love of God, let me hate you in peace. Don’t apologize and make me fall in love all over again.

“Its fine.” I choked out. “ You were right. I was out of line.”

“You deserve better.” He said quickly, eyes flitting away from my face and I felt a sharp pang in my heart. God , this was agonizing. 

“Jungkook-”

“It’s just that you’re...well you know who you are. You can’t be with ...someone like me and trust me you don’t want to be with someone like me either. I know its appealing, the whole illusion of stability. older man, has a kid, has his life together .....but that’s not all it means .” He gave me a tired smile.

I bit my lips, ot replying and he went on. 

 “ I have baggage, a shit ton of it and I would have to be especially cruel to unload something like that on a girl barely out of her teens. I’ve done shit I’m not proud of ,....but ruining your life, I’m gonna draw the line there.” He smiled , looking a whole decade younger and I closed my eyes.

I was back to square one, I thought miserably. He had my whole heart. 

“ So we’re good right?” He prompted and I exhaled, giving him a smile.

“We’re good.”

“That’s good. Because my son loves you and I would rather we be friends. You’re just like a daughter to me. ” He touched my face gently, pulling away at once, the small contact leaving fire in its wake and I had to clench my fists . 

A daughter?!! Is he out of his damned mind? 

“Okay.” 

“Let’s go then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jungkook, please sit down. You’re like my son and I don’t want you hovering like you’re part of the backdrop. I’ve trusted you with my entire life.” My father beamed, pointing at me and i laughed. 

Jungkook bowed respectfully, taking the chair next to me. 

“How are you , my buttercup?” My father asked softly, fingers gripping mine and I smiled.

“I’m well, father. Do you like my dress?” 

Next to me Jungkook coughed and I shot him a dirty look. 

“It looks ravishing on you. The prettiest flower in my estate is my daughter, do you agree Jungkook?” My father prompted and I swallowed the smirk that threatened. 

Poor Jungkook was going to learn that being my bodyguard meant singing my praises twenty four seven or at least anytime my father was in hearing distance. 

“Uh..” Jungkook’s eyes flitted between the two of us, “ Yes sir. Your daughter is quite lovely.” 

I beamed at him and he looked away quickly. 

Coward. 

Turning back to my dad I held my hand out. 

“DAd, you wanted to see me about something?”

“Yes dearest. You know the Kim clan’s matriarch has been after me. Three of her great great great grandsons have come of age recently. And all three of them are set to take over some very lucrative businesses. They are good men and apparently they’re quite smitten with you. They say you know of them from school?”

I sighed.

“Do you know their names?” I prompted.

“Mingyu, Minjae and Yugyeom.” My father said briskly. 

 Ugh.

 “ They’ve asked me out before, yes.” 

“Uh..Excuse me.. Could I get a refill?” Jungkook said quietly next to me and i turned, watching him wave to one of the footmen. 

“Jungkook, are you thirsty?” My father asked brightly. 

An idea formed in my head, wicked and dangerous. 

“Perhaps, he should get a taste of the Hwang Elixir?” I said innocently. 

My father’s gaze snapped to mine. 

A small frown made its way to his face. 

“Are you sure? I’m not sure if Jungkook would be comfortable-”

I turned to him, purposely flipping my long hair off my shoulders exposing my throat . Jungkook’s eyes went to the curve of my neck at once and i felt a sick sort of triumph when his eyes flashed red.

“Oh, no no...” I crooned, leaning in closer. “ I’m sure you aren’t uncomfortable , are you Jungkook ssi? After all, I am just like a daughter to you , aren’t I?” I stared right at him, fluttering my lashes and I saw his jaw clench. 

“Of course, Ms. Hwang.” He said briskly, glaring at me. I played with the small gold chain around my neck, letting my fingers flutter over my pulse , drawing his gaze there.

“Well, that is true ...” My father looked uncertain, but I gave him a gentle nod and a smile. 

“Well, as a special guest, I suppose you can enjoy our hospitality , Jeon. Why don’t you take a drink from -”

I moved closer, pressing up against him and Jungkook sighed, lips closing over my neck, and I felt my eyes flutter shut at the wet warmth of his mouth . 

It was intoxicating, the way he used one hand to grip my neck gently, the other on my waist to steady me and when his fangs pierced through, I could sense the warm liquid flood his mouth and Jungkook’s entire body relaxed, a strangled moan escaping him. 

“---my daughter’s wrist.” My father finished and I felt Jungkook stiffen next to me. 

This time I couldn’t stop the grin that bloomed on my face. 

My eyes dropped to his lap and yup, his pants definitely looked a tad tighter. 

“Did I do good, Mr Jeon? Or should I call you daddy? ” I whispered quietly , fluttering my lashes at him and his fangs retracted and he pulled away from me, shoving me back into my own chair quickly. 

My father was slightly slack jawed. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hwang. “ Jungkook muttered and I laughed.

“I do believe it is I whom you should be apologizing to. It is  my  neck you just mauled. ” I smiled brightly staring at Jungkook and if looks could kill, I would have a thousand wooden stakes through my heart right about now. ‘

Take that Mr. Jeon. 

Daughter, my ass. 

“My apologies , Sera.” He said stiffly. 

My father laughed raucously.

“Ahh, you must be used to the neck, my dear boy. understandable understandable. it is how we used to do it in the old days, after all . These younglings with all their etiquette and feminism and what not....it’s hard to keep up..... But now you must tell me? Is my daughter not the sweetest you’ve ever had?” 

I choked, coughing. Oh God, sometimes my 900 year old father had no idea how he sounded. 

Jungkook looked like he had swallowed a lemon. 

“She’s certainly ...” He stopped, probably realizing that any adjective at the end of that sentence would sound entirely wrong. 

“Delicious?” I prompted, blinking innocently and Jungkook shot me another glare. 

“Well, nevermind nevermind. .... So, tell me dearest, will you be willing to meet the Kim boys?”

I sighed.

“I like Yugyeom. I cannot stand Minjae. I don’t know enough about Mingyu to make any judgement. How about I meet Mingyu and if I don’t hit it off with him, I will allow Yugyeom to court me....” I said softly.

I glanced at Jungkook but he was studiously looking away. 

“Very well my dear. Do you have any plans today?”

“I’m meeting a friend at the museum.”

My father’s eyes widened.

“Well isn’t that a wonderful coincidence. Mingyu's law firm is just a block away if I’m not mistaken. I’ll ask the boy to pick you up afterwards. Have dinner with him and you can tell me tonight of your choice.” My father smiled briskly.

“Yes, father.” 

“Jungkook..” My father prompted and the vampire glanced up.

“Yes, sir?”

“Take good care of her. At the restaurant, make sure you stay at hearing distance. “ 

“Yes sir.” Jungkook bowed and I groaned. 

In other words, let my father know if I behaved appropriately. 

i pouted and my father waggled his finger at me.

“No, no no.. Missy. I’m going to make sure you keep your end of the bargain . You need to give these men a proper chance before you reject them. “ 

I nodded.

“And you must ask Either Somi or Seolhyun to dress you. No jeans or one of those ridiculous gowns that make you look like a pastry.”

There was no mistaking the snort that came from my right and i glared at Jungkook before turning to my dad.

“Yes, father.” 

“Good, now run along the pair of you. “

I stood up, kissing my father fondly on his forehead.

“I love you.” I whispered. 

“You are my whole entire joy, dearest. “ He kissed my hand gently, eyes warm and soft.

As we left the room, Jungkook let out a sigh.

“I am never having a meal with you two again.” He ground out and I laughed. 

“Anything you say, daddy.” I grinned. 

Jungkook groaned. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As luck would have it,  my friend cancelled . 

So at six the evening, I finished locking up the cottage as the last of the kids left, fumbling with the lock while a tired Joo Won napped in his father’s arms, head resting on Jungkook’s shoulders. I felt myself soften at the picture they made, Jungkook singing softly , fingers brushing his son’s hair back as he rocked him gently. 

“I’ll be a while... I needed to get ready. Why don’t you put him to bed? Who’s watching him tonight?”

“Hwasa and Moonbyul offered. I’ll drop you off in your room and head to the north wing. What time are you meeting the jerkwad?” He said casually.

I blinked rapidly, confused.

“I’m sorry... the jerkwad?” 

Jungkook shrugged.

“It’ just a fact. Most men are absolute jerks at twenty one.” He shrugged. 

i felt myself bristling on behalf of the unknown Mingyu.

“That is absolutely unfair. My brothers were incredibly kind and good.”

“To you perhaps. Because they don’t have to impress you. But men act differently when they’re trying to get between a woman’s thighs. They’re jerks when they want to get laid...” He grinned.

“Is that why you act like a jerk to me? ” I smiled evilly and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, darling we both know I don’t have to act in any different way to get you into my bed . I just have to do this.” He smirked, curling his finger in a come hither gesture.  

I felt my pulse pound and I tried not to let his words get to my head. He was flirting , yes but it was a joke. He was joking with me because the very idea of being with me was a joke to him. 

And I couldn’t forget that. 

Rolling my eyes, I pulled on the lock a couple more times to make sure the door was well locked. 

“Shall we leave?” He prompted watching me wrestle the backpack onto my shoulders. I grunted under the weight. 

“Of course. Let’s go.” 

We walked in silence for a few seconds.

“So, how’s he doing? With stuff?” Jungkook asked gently and I felt warmth bloom in my chest. 

“He’s very advanced for his age Jungkook. You’ve done a wonderful job with him. He’s able to read and he has a beautiful l writing hand. He’s learned his multiplication tables all the way up to seven and he has the voice of an angel. Which I think he gets from you. ” I smiled, reaching out to brush the back of Joowon’s head. 

Jungkook smiled softly, the late evening sun painting his perfect features in a soft golden glow. 

“Your father was kind enough to support me the first few years when i had him. I didn’t trust anyone enough to leave him with them and well... i needed to put a roof over our head.” He sighed . 

I touched his arm, giving it a small squeeze.

“I understand. I’m glad you’re here. He’ll grow up well in our clan.   “

“And he has a lot of excellent men to look up to here...He needs a good role model, someone kind and amazing who can inspire him to be hardworking and fair. ” He smiled.

I bit my lips.

“I think he’s had that all along. ” I said quietly.

Jungkook’s breath caught for a second and the air between us changed. I licked my lips. 

“Jungkook you’re a good father. You know that right?” I said after a few more seconds of silence. 

He laughed.

“Am I really? I wonder.” 

“He loves you.” I breathed , “  You’re all he talks about.... Today, one of the other kids tried to say that his father was brave because he helped someone who was stuck in an elevator. you know what Joowon did? He listed some twenty different incidents where you’ve helped people out....And he looked so proud.”

Jungkook’s ear looked red in the brightly lit garden. 

“i was just doing my job. Most of those times, I was in danger.” He grunted. 

“And yet, you did the right thing. “ I whispered. “ And your son was watching. And he’s learned the importance of doing the right thing even when you’re scared. That’s a life lesson that isn’t easy to learn.”

“Can’t disagree with that.” He chuckled. I grabbed his arm forcing him to stop. 

I had to tell him this. 

 “ Jungkook, when immortality is on the plate, people don’t give much value to morals. They don’t always care about doing the right thing.... . Its how our kind functions. Consequences don’t mean much when you have a whole eternity to fix your mistakes.....So I always admire vampires who value morals. “ I smiled, “ To see a five year old with such a well formed moral compass... it tells me that you’re an amazing father. Possibly the best I’ve ever met. “ I reached out, to hold his hand, wanting to touch him in some way, to make him believe that I was completely honest. 

“Sera!!!!!!” My sister’s voice made me jump and Jungkook stepped away as well. 

“Dad told me you’re going on a date? I’ve picked out an outfit for you!! But you need to take a shower! You cannot show up smelling like diapers and spit-up.” She called. 

I groaned. 

“Time for the ugly duckling to transform into a swan, I see?” He said gently. 

“Your son’s favorite fairytale.” I whispered.

“He makes me read it every night.” 

“I would like to sit in on that someday.” I laughed.

His eyes met mine. 

“You’re always welcome, Ms Hwang,” He smiled politely. “ Someday soon maybe your kids and my son would be friends.” 

And just like that the wall grew between us. 

His kids and my kids. 

Not our kids because he wasn’t for me. 

He would never be for me. 

I felt the sudden inexplicable urge to cry. 

Turning away, I began following my sister as she waved to me. . 

“I’ll be at your door at seven.” He called out behind me. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[vitosscaletta]

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓 Christian, Helena, Gina, Georgie, and Aaliyah!!!

THANK U!!!! sorry this is so late :(

CHRISTIAN

IDK if I ever said this but his whole mansion in Bel Air is modeled after the interior in Versailles - still modern but with STRONG Baroque vibes

His favorite european city - besides Versailles of course - is Venice 😳 he lived there for some time in the 18th century and loved it there... he misses it a lot

He has a ghoul.... his name is Claude, the only living descendant of his favorite sister :(( Christian tracked him down in the early 1900s in Paris and eventually offered him to embrace him, but Claude was like nah... I wanna see the sunlight dude. They’re still living together in Bel Air since they’re the only family they have left :0 

Hangs out in LA nightclubs a lot - not the goth ones we see in the game.. the sexy ones where rich people hang out, he mostly feeds from them there.. slurp slurp!

Can speak english, french, italian, german and a few words in latin.. op king. being that old gives you time to learn languages ig

Went into an overdramatic state of fake depression after Helena dumped him.. didn’t leave his mansion at all, just hung around in his room, not eating (... drinking blood..), moping and talking about killing himself bc Toreadors are fucked up. Claude is like.. get up dude -_-

HELENA

I also dont know if I ever said this but even though shes not the fledgling.. Heather is still her ghoul (she was in the santa monica clinic to get somehting done for la croy and yeah).. she regrets it because Heather is soooo annoying and does all of this shit for her like calling her her master and all that and it’s just so uncomfortable. Especially when she offers her her student loans. Helena is like “oh my god I can’t take this what the fuck?????????? this is yours. okay you know what.. if you insist.. i will take it 😏”

She doesn’t have the heart to kick her out though.. mostly because Helena misses having a roommate :c

The only people who were genuinely sad about her death are her mom and sister jhdsjhds.. the fake rich friends she had before her embrace didn’t really give a fuck about her until they realized they could get attention through it & started posting sob stories on myspace. Helena is mad about it.. those hoes treated her like a third wheel when she was alive 😤

she probably ends up “accidentally” telling her family she’s alive.. 

what annoys her the most about her death isn’t even the fact that she was killed.. it’s the fact that she didn’t die in a beautiful way, she was just some random nobody with no friends or fame who may have been killed by her boyfriend (except that the official story is that she never arrived at his house). Christian couldn’t have waited until she was an established actress so it could have been more poetic, nah he had to embrace her when nobody cared :((

She liked Christian’s Bel Air mansion but honestly?? her weird old apartment was still better - it wasn’t big and the furniture was a mess but it was still her home

GINA

Grew up with a single mother because her father died early in an accident... he was a construction worker or something :c her mom worked as a maid for a rich family until she got fired for stealing from them jdfkjsd

gets to rapture by assuming some rich girl’s identity. idk how she does that but.. somehow she does. Of course nobody knows about that, it’s her big secret 🤫 to the other rapture residents she’s just a rich heiress who acts a little different from New York’s high society because she lived abroad

she dislikes Rapture’s upper class for living so large when the poor have nothing just like she had nothing growing up.. doesn’t do much about it though..  Gina: *donates like a tiny amount of her wealth to an orphanage* wow helping people feels so good :)

Doesn’t have any real friends in rapture either except maybe Diane.. ironically because she thinks everyone else is fake 🙄

She didn’t like F*ntaine AT ALL because she thought he looked creepy but also because the Bronx accent scared her.. she’s really paranoid that he might have run into her while she was still living there and remembers her even though that’s soooo unlikely 😒 every time they’re in the same elevator together she turns away and pretends to look for something in her handbag

The civil war is just the worst for her bc she doesn’t want to align with the rebels they’re all freaks but there’s also no way in hell she’ll be on Andy Ryan’s side.. she’s just like *reluctantly joins rebels because she thinks its the winning team and because she thinks A**** is hot and doesn’t realize its the same guy she hid from at parties* *doesn’t do shit* 

GEORGIE

has a weird relationship with her mom... she died when she was very very young and Georgie really doesn’t remember much about her - almost everything she knows is from her father reminiscing about how beautiful and loving she was but that’s not.. true.. its just how he remembers her, in reality she was a very cold & narcissistic person. she’ll never know the truth though :/

does NOT care about any politician or noble whatsoever but had a soft spot for Jessamine mostly because she made a friendly impression on her (from what she’s seen on posters and all that stuff).. Georgie liked to imagine she wanted to make things better for people like her. (the heart when pointed at Georgie: this bitch digs through garbage cans. freak.)

has little pots with flowers all over her little clinic in the distillery district, it adds a little life to her weird looking little home and makes it look even more goth-ish because they’re all dried out :/

is one of those people who are pretentious about drinking tea

has a weird rivalry with dr Galvani that he doesn’t know about 😒 her clinic is near his home and she's mad jealous of him, this dude has money to fund his research and expensive tools and what does he do with it?? dissect fucking rats? (she heard about it from Granny Rags and yeah she believes everything she says).. she’s out there calling him an idiot, meanwhile Galvani doesn’t even know she even exists

used to be a pickpocket as a kid.. mostly when her dad didn’t make enough money, she still got into trouble for it most of the time though and stopped when she got older -_- its ok though because she got to steal family heirlooms at the Boyle mansion during their masquerades because one of the sisters called her ugly

AALIYAH

unlike the game wants you to believe she’s from Nevarra City rather than Ostwick 😳 the youngest of 5 siblings and the only mage in the family - since Nevarra is pretty chill about magic and has no circles, she grew up without the whole oppression thing that’s going on in the rest of thedas, thus all this templar shit is nonsense to her. We’re fine back home, thank you! Your mages are just fucked up because you put them in prisons!

She was supposed to become a Mortalitasi and have a pretty powerful position in the Nevarran court until idk something political that involved the chantry in one way or another happened and she got shipped off to ferelden’s circle (post blight duh). She managed to escape after a few weeks in its weakened state and joined the mage underground - she never really was a circle mage like in the game 🙄

She and a group of other mages she was friends with were supposed to go to the conclave together to.. vote for mage rights but you know what happened! Also you know this excerpt from a very angry person’s journal you can find in the fade? that was from her best friend who died in the explosion :c She still misses her a lot

The only people she’s close to within the inquisition are Sera, Varric and Dorian.. the rest are either more acquaintances or outright hate her (especially Vivienne.. i love her but BOY did they not get along).. She likes the advisors a little more, Josie is cool they’re not like bffs or anything but they like each other.. Leliana and her got along soooo well I think they were really good friends. Cullen was.. unfortunately her boyfriend but they also hated each other in the beginning. more on that later

The worst thing for her was the attack on Haven it fucked her up sooooo bad :c All those innocent people she wanted to protect dying, she tried her best to save them but it was still too late for some of them despite her best efforts.. it just really messes with her and she hates thinking about it.. she actually tried to run off on one occasion after that 😳

Feels sooo weird about the fact that she’s nevarran because on one hand that’s her home and she’s proud of it!!! on the other hand everyone acts like she’s the biggest freak bc they think she was in a death cult or something and she HATES it :((

[darksaber87]

Trevor’s Profile

Base information

Name: Trevor Dynasty

Status: Ruler of Volkihar Vampires

Titles: King

Height: 6’1” (185 cm)

Weight: 256 lbs (116kg)

Hair: Short, Black

Facial Hair: Short goatee/ Black

Eye Color: Blue(Before Vampirism) Orange/Red

Age: Looks 28 (Immortal actual age 4357)

Morality: Neutral Evil

Distinguished Features: Deep scars across left side of face

Birth Date: 1E 98

Birth Place: Solitude, Skyrim

Death Date: 1E 125

Age at Death: 28

Death Place: High-Rock

Resting Place: Small Cave

Manner of Death: Betrayed by his bandit clan

First Rebirth: 1E 125

Place of First Rebirth: Small Cave in High-Rock 

Likes/Dislikes

Likes: Serana, Knowledge, Power

Dislikes: The sunlight, the living, holy warriors

Wardrobe/Equipment

Accessories:Black Empire signet ring, diamond skull necklace, wedding band

Equipment:  Black blade of Volkihar, Black Rose ~ Ancient blade of Olof Dracnis

Most Prized Possession: Vail of Serana’s blood

Most Valuable Possession: Black Empire Signet ring

Family/Friends/Love

Immediate Family: Serana(Wife)

Close Relatives: Unknown

Distant Relatives: Unknown

Ancestors: None

First Love: The Viper, Sett

Love Interests: Serana Volkihar

Marital Status: Married

Significant Other: Serana Volkihar

Enemies/Acquaintances/Factions

Acquaintances: Rella, Olof Dracnis

Allegiance: Black Empire

Allies/Friends/Followers: Richter Tepes, Seras Victoria

Enemies: The Dawnguard, Helena Dragonheart, Alistair Tagnel

Subordinates: Genloke

Biography

Childhood:Born to a poor family in Solitude, he was lucky to have a meal a day, frail and sickly as a child, but had shelter and loving parents.

Adolescence:Things changed during Trevor’s adolescence, when he lost his mother to bandits when she tried to protect Trevor, his father started to fall to the drink after that and blame him for her death. Trevor would try to avoid his father at all costs and would leave when he could for days at a time. During these years Trevor fell in with the wrong sorts of kids. Stealing, causing trouble was how he spent his days and his fathers wraith when he got caught.

.

Adulthood:Adulthood was much of the same with Trevor, after dad drank himself to death Trevor left Solitude and soon joined up with a bandit clan. Was within this group of cutthroats Trevor learned his skills with a sword. He also went from pickpocketing to assassinations, mercenary work. After spending 15 years with this group he was betrayed after a job they took in High-Rock. Slashing the right side of face so deep it his bones forever marking him and mortally wounding him, out of sheer will Trevor was able to make to a small cave. Within the cave was an old decayed looking man well past his prime. The man offered Trevor to become something more, but at a price. Dying Trevor had no choice because he didn’t want to die. Drinking the red liquid given to him Trevor died

Afterdeath and Rebirth: Waking from his death Trevor was reborn a vampire.With his new found vampiric powers Trevor hunting down his old Bandit clan and killed each of them drinking their blood to his fill. Centuries passed as he lived seeking knowledge, Trevor saw the world around him change, empires fall and rise. Trevor eventually came across a small little Kingdom within the Province of Skyrim ruled by one Harkon Volkihar. I benevolent King loved by his people until a plague swept through his Kingdom and struck his daughter and wife down with illness. Pleading with the Gods to no avail. One night there was a bang against Harkon’s castle doors. There stood Tevor, who offered a solution to Harkon's answers, agreeing. Trevor turned Harkon, his wife and daughter into vampires. As part of the pact Trevor became the true master of Clan Volkihar and ruling from the shadows as using Harkon as his voice.

A secret relationship between Trevor and Serana formed over the years, Trevor saw something in her that he lost a long time ago. As the centuries past Harkon grew more and more secluded and darker as his power grew, Trevor’s grip within the Volkihar clan waned. Fearing for Serana’s life if their love was ever found out. Deciding to exile themselves with the help of Serana’s mother. Saying goodbye to Serana and vowing to see each other again, Trevor left Castle Volkihar vowing to return to end the rule of Harkon.

[diversegaminglists]

Lesbian and Bisexual Female Love Interests

As with all lists, corrections and suggestions encouraged, still very much a WIP.

Many of these games may be of poor quality and/or written by heterosexual men. No age ratings on these either, 18+ smutty stuff is mixed in with E-rated romance.

I’ve done my best to categorise these F/F romance options into lesbian and bisexual character lists, but in games where you play a woman and have a same gender romance option, often a lot of those women never have their sexuality explicitly stated, so for characters I’m not sure about I’ve listed them as “WLW”.

This list is OBSOLETE and will no longer be updated.

Lesbian options in dating sims:

After the Bell Rings (F/F only)

Akai Ito (F/F only)

Amaranto (F/F only)

Anaheim Girl’s Love Story (F/F only)

Aoi Shiro (F/F only)

Asphyxia (F/F only)

Astoria: Fate’s Kiss (Medusa)

Atom Grrl! (F/F only)

Brilliant Shadows (F/F)

can you say my name again (F/F only)

Castaway! Love's Adventure (Serena)

Flower Garden (F/F only)

From Salt to Sugar (F/F)

Gangsters in Love (Aurora)

My Girlfriend is a Witch! (Madoka Magica fanfic)

Heileen: Sail Away (Marie)

Heileen 3: Sea Maidens (Marie)

Helena’s Flowers (Penthesilea)

Highway Blossoms (F/F only)

Hikōki Fakkubōto (F/F only, possibly not fully translated)

Katahane (The game’s story follows 3 couples: 2 F/F, one F/M)

Kindred Spirits on the Roof (F/F only)

Lilium x Triangle (F/F Only)

Limit Panic! (Not fully translated)

A Little Lily Princess (F/F only)

Lonely Yuri

Love is in Bloom (F/F only)

Madoka Magica: Pure Pink Pretty Lovers (Fanfic)

The Menagerie (This one describes itself as “a lesbian and futanari eroge” so probable warning for trans-misogyny and fetishistic attitudes towards trans women.)

A Midsummer Day’s Resonance (F/F only)

Mondoj (F/F)

Mutiny (F/F only, warning for trans-misogyny and fetishism)

Ne no Kami: The Two Princess Knights of Kyoto (F/F only)

Nuki Nuki Destiny! (Not fully translated)

The Reject Demon: Toko (F/F only)

Rising Angels Franchise (F/F only)

The Royal Trap: The Confines of the Crown (General warning for trans-misogyny. This game actually has one lesbian option which you achieve by pursuing an alliance with Prince Gaston, and a “friend ending” with another female character. Please also note that there is no way to date the trans woman character.)

Sacrament of the Zodiac: The Confused Sheep and The Tamed Wolf (F/F only)

The Sad Story of Emmeline Burns (F/F only)

Sakura Dungeon (F/F only)

Sakura Fantasy (F/F only)

Sakura Space (F/F only)

Slumberparty (F/F only)

Snow Drop (F/F only)

Sono Hanabira Franchise/ A Kiss for the Petals Franchise (F/F only)

Sour Cherry Twist (F/F only)

Starlight Vega (F/F only)

Strawberry Vinegar (F/F only)

Sugar’s Delight (F/F only, obviously written by straight men, involves having sex with cake, don’t ask.)

why is this dragon so fucking cute?? (F/F only)

Written in the Sky

Yuri no Yume

Lesbian options in all other genres:

Baldur’s Gate 2 Enhanced Edition (Hexxat)

Black Closet (F/F only)

Dragon Age: Inquisition (Sera)

Mass Effect 3 (Samantha Traynor)

Princesses's Maid

Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic (Juhani is supposed to be a lesbian, but a bug in the code meant she sometimes is available to male player-characters too)

Violet (This text adventure has a toggle that turns it into a lesbian romance.)

A Wild Catgirl Appears

Bisexual women options in dating games:

Cute Demon Crashers! (Mirari)

Ellaria: Cotton & Cream

Heilleen 2: The Hands of Fate (Juliet, Ebele)

Heileen 3: Sea Maidens (Lora, Ebele & Juliet)

LongStory

Magical Diary:Horse Hall (Ellen & Virginia)

Bisexual woman in other genres:

Analogue: A Hate Story & Hate Plus

Dragon Age: Origins (Leliana)

Dragon Age 2 (Isabela & Merril)

Dragon Age 2: Mark of the Assassin (Tallis)

Dragon Age: Inquisition (Josephine)

The Elder Scrolls: Skyrim

Fallout 4

Fire Emblem Fates (Rhajat)

The Game of Life (Same sex marriage options)

Jade Empire (Silk Fox)

Loren the Amazon Princess (Loren)

Loren the Amazon Princess: The Castle of N’Mar (Chambara)

Mass Effect 2 (Kelly Chambers)

Mass Effect 3 (Diana Allers)

The Pioneer Trail/Frontierville

Stardew Valley (Everyone)

Star Wars: The Old Republic (Lemda Avesta, Lana Beniko)

WLW:

AIRIS (Everea)

Blue Rose (Erin)

Chrono Day Sim Date (Bianca)

Cosplay Maker (5 F/F routes)

Echoes of the Fey: The Fox's Trail (1 F/F route)

Enola

Fatal Hearts (Lucy)

Genjitsukai (Aleisha)

Last Days of Spring (One F/F option)

Life is Strange

Love is Strange (F/F only) (Fanfic)

Love and Order (Dorothy)

Lunar Days Sim Date (Raine)

Number Days Sim Date (Lena)

Queen at Arms (One F/F route)

The Queen of Thieves (3 F/F routes)

Seduce Me the Otome (3 F/F routes)

Serafina’s Saga (Valerie)

Serafina’s Crown (At least 1 F/F route)

Spirited Heart Girls’ Side/Spirited Heart Deluxe (3 F/F routes)

Sword of Asumi

Void and Meddler

Special Mentions:

Harvest Moon: Friends of Mineral Town - True Love Edition. This is a ROM Hack that swaps the romance options of the original game, so it’s technically a non-canon fan mod.

Loren the Amazon Princess - Karen is only available to a female player character, but she also loved a man. However she is deeply ashamed that she loved him and also tries to kill herself after he dies. I don’t feel comfortable placing her under any of the other options because of this context.

Mass Effect Franchise - Liara is part of the monogender asari alien species, but presents as a woman and is treated as a bisexual option throughout the series.

Princess Remedy in a World of Hurt - You can pursue any NPC in this game as a marriage option, regardless of gender or species (and possibly also family relation, incest warning?!).

Needs More Research:

<3

Abigail (The protagonist is a lesbian, not sure about the rest)

Amaranth

An Otaku’s Guide to Santa’s Reindeer

@CameliaGirls

Belladonna

Choice of Games (need specific examples)

Cupid

Embric of Wulfhammer’s Castle

Heart of Fire

I Love You

Mahou Shoujo Žižek-chan!

Midsummer Haze

The Milk of Human Kindness

Queen’s Gambit

Sinkha: Atmosphere & Planet of the Clouds

Sound of Drop - Fall Into Poison

Star Story Saga: Renaissance

Starship Inanna (At least one bisexual character)

Transport Troubles

[xcharmedxheirsx]

@xhelenaxleblancx​​

Seraphina actually laughed. “Think?” Question was rhetorical – DERISIVE. “I fucking KNOW that I can.” She shook her head before bringing herself to a pause. Brow furrowing as she reviewed the question with greater sensitivity than her initial burst of EGOMANIA. After several seconds she took a deep breath and spoke once again. “Look… I won’t say that Delilah DOESN’T love Helena. She clearly does. Head over heels for her.” Another delay. And the scales in her mind as she weighed her words might well have been VISIBLE. “But do I think Delilah loves Helena the RIGHT WAY or anywhere NEAR the level and intensity that I love Helena?” SCOFF. “Of course I don’t. Do you know what I did that night I compared Helena to her father. And she had that breakdown? I CHANGED.” Heavy emphasis on those final two words. “Not completely. Not intrinsically. But I saw the GREATEST mistake of my life. And the depths of the pain my actions caused. And I vowed to NEVER make Helena feel like that again.” One more catch. One more weigh-in. One more decision...

“And yeah, I can’t SPEAK for Helena and how I’ve made HER feel in the years since then. But I’d like to think that I’ve SUCCEEDED…” It was then that Seraphina’s face began to twist. Harsh sinking of canine into gums. BLOOD blossoming from the puncture. The tiniest – SADDEST – shake of her head. And an aversion of chestnut eyes. “And…” SWALLOW. Golden nail came up, scratching lightly at her temple and tapping restlessly against her skull before Seraphina worked up the COURAGE to commit to her bottom line. “And honestly, from where I stand… I don’t believe she can say the same…” Another bite at already bloody gums. “In fact…” SIGH – Pained and sorrowful. Eyes fluttering shut. “I'm not entirely sure she’s ever hurt Helena WORSE than she is right now…” Thin shoulders managed a HOPELESS & DEFEATED shrug. There would always be a part of Seraphina that CARED for Helena’s relationship with Delilah. She’d be lying if she HADN’T just depressed herself in tearing down her love rival. Because her Owner frankly deserved a BETTER ENDING than that. And while Seraphina could HOPE FOR THE BEST and SUPPORT HER LOVER. When it came down to her opinion right here, right now...

                                    “Right now I find it hard to believe that Delilah                                                                            could EVER love Helena MORE than I do...”

[xcharmedxheirsx]

@xhelenaxleblancx​

She knows the word she WANTS to use...

                                                                                                BETRAYED...

But she knows that’s the WRONG WORD. And it’s damn sure not fair to hold Helena up to an agreement she NEVER EVEN MADE. In fact, she’s sure that Helena would NEVER have made such an agreement. She CARED TOO MUCH to lie to her like that. That beng said... It still hurt ALL THE SAME... Even if she SHOULD have expected it... Their chemistry OUTDATED Seraphina’s and Helena. And in certain IRONIC ways it had actually been the chemistry BETWEEN Helena and Delilah that night in the fields behind her family’s estate that had first bonded Helena and Seraphina. “I-I-I...” Tears are in her eyes and she’s shaking her head and her lip is all TWISTED UP like when you don’t know the answer to a life or death question. “I-I don’t know...” she finally choked out. “I really don’t fucking know...” EXHALE. Short. Curt. Sharp. PAINFUL. “I won’t lie... It would hurt me...” She spoke, wringing at her wrist. FIGHTING the urge to down some champagne. She’d been silently going sober ALONGSIDE Helena. But fuck was such a dependency DIFFICULT to break... “I wouldn’t be okay...”

                                                  UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE FUCKING CENTURY...

[xcharmedxheirsx]

@xhelenaxleblancx​

There was something in the way Sera HID THIS from her therapist that painted the answer as PAINFULLY OBVIOUS and yet IMPOSSIBLE TO COMPREHEND. She herself was still yet PHYSICALLY SPEAK with Helena about the whole entire thing. Namely what it all MEANT and if the baby was EVEN ALIVE. She hoped it was. Sera had so few LIGHTS in the world. And she couldn’t help but feel like she’d really rather LIKE to have ANOTHER. But she wasn’t the right kind of MATERIAL to be a mom. As her OWN had so KINDLY pointed out to her when she learned of her INFERTILITY. So to answer the question as SIMPLY as possible: Sera felt TERRIFIED, JUBILANT, ANXIOUS, HOPEFUL, FOOLISH, CONCERNED, MOVED, SHOCKED, STUPID, SELFISH, SELFLESS, SAD, DISTANT AND ATTACHED all at the same FUCKED UP time.

Delilah’s breath was CONTROLLED and yet COMPLETELY JAGGERED as she considered that question. “I, uh… I dunno if I’m ta be COMPLETELY honest with ya…” The truest answer that sprung to mind was GUILTY. Knowing her sister was PREGNANT during her most DESTITUTE DAYS. And that not only had DELILAH not offered to help HELENA. But Delilah had pushed Helena so far as to not even DARE to ask for aid? Yeah that was LEAVING ITS MARK ON HER CONSCIENCE. (As it should be.) “I guess I just wanna learn about her. Know about her. Talk about her.” MAYBE MEET HER. “She’s still a LEBLANC. No matter what her legal documents say.” It was something in their BLOOD.

[xcharmedxheirsx]

@xhelenaxleblancx​

Thump. Thump. THUMP. Stupid Heart. Stupid Heart. STUPID HEART. It had never. NEVER-NEVER. Felt stronger than in Helena’s PRESENCE. So why the FUCK was it still NOT BRAVE ENOUGH... Would it EVER be brave enough? Would SERA ever be brave enough? Harsh breaths STAGGERED FREE -- TREACHEROUSLY DEFIANT. Why the fuck was it always easier for her to CRY? Then again it was HARDLY like she was letting ANYONE see her like this... SHE’D RATHER DIE... Or maybe that was her fear? That she’d DIE if anyone saw her like THIS. Or maybe that was EXACTLY what she was HOPING FOR. Maybe THAT was why she was writing this down? Maybe the fucking HOUSEMAID would find it. Maybe THAT’S how she’d tell her father? Maybe that was the ONLY WAY she could. After all SELF-SABOTAGE had been all she’d EVER KNOWN.

Chestnut eyes scanned the page. The ink was RUNNING with her tears. Her dominant hand SHOOK. Grasping HARD at the pen. CRACK. Her teeth gritted tight -- SEETHING FRUSTRATION whistling between them. Thump. Thump. THUMP. Stupid heart. Stupid heart. STUPID HEART. Her hand LASHED OUT. What remained of the pen TORE through the sheet. And her fist came SLAMMING DOWN upon her desk in a BLIND RAGE. Bang. Bang. BANG. Again. Again. AGAIN. And suddenly she was SOBBING. Why the hell was THIS BITCH always RIGHT? Because that’s what she was PAYING HER FOR. There was a DULLNESS in her hand and she lifted it up. Blue and purple STREAKING across her metacarpal. She let out an EMOTIONALLY EXHAUSTED sigh and let her head fall against it. Spare one moving to pull across the REMNANTS of her writing. Maybe that’s how she’d tell her father? What a fucking JOKE. Injured hand moved to grab a lighter. Pain GRACING her motions as she flicked at the flint. Fire BURST to life. And she held it to the paper. Sending it UP IN FLAMES. One day she WOULD find a way to wear her heart ON HER SLEEVE. (She hoped...) Inspired by the BEAUTY Helena SOMEHOW saw in her. And fueled by her DESIRE to be WORTHY of such a collar. There HAD to be a way.

                                                                                                                    (...Right?)

[xcharmedxheirsx]

@xhelenaxleblancx​

Delilah DOUBTED IT. Was only the logical conclusion — a RARITY for the CRAZED CATHOLIC. But such was how her mother RAISED HER. To shoulder the BLAME and justify the BETRAYAL. After all… WHY ELSE would Benjamin feel the NECESSITY to cheat on her? She was a WORTHLESS girl with BABY WEIGHT, STRETCHMARKS and a USED UP PUSSY. And even before she’d had three kids, she was just a PRUDE who had learned EVERYTHING she knew about kissing from her own REFLECTION. Not even HELENA would genuinely enjoy kissing her had she the CHANCE. Stomach TWISTED. She was gonna be SICK.

Sera wasn’t sure of MUCH in life. Her opinion on herself PENDULUMMED with each new moment. In general she found herself… UNPRETTY & BORING. And she’d covered up those insecurities with MONEY & CUNTERY. Was her entire life’s philosophy. DISFIGURE HER INSIDES to justify people HATING HER OUTSIDES. But if there was one thing her husband had taught her, well… She was a GOOD FUCK. (And that was about it…) How good? Well there was a REASON he hadn’t even BOTHERED to wash his cock before he last DEMANDED a blowjob. A reminder that he had OTHER WHORES – OTHER OPTIONS. And that she NEEDED HIM to keep her FAMILY AFLOAT. That was the night Helena texted her about the SLUMBER PARTY FROM HELL. Cause she was SICK of his BULLSHIT. And with Benjamin fifteen months DEAD she was DONE sacrificing for her family. So was she a good kisser? YES. Was she still INSECURE AS FUCK and wishing she was BETTER?

                                                                           ABSOLUTELY.

(Was precisely WHY seeing the orgasm Alex had given Helena in the cafeteria HURT SO MUCH.)

Oh how times had CHANGED for Alex Russo. A long time ago she’d have AVOIDED this question LIKE THE PLAGUE. She’d grown up pretty scared of this stuff. OF MESSING IT ALL UP. And had chosen the DELUSORY CERTAINTY of masks and bravado over WEAKNESS & ANXIETY. Going so far as to TORMENT her brother for being EVERY BIT the kiss virgin as she was. Fast forward to twenty six years old and she had A LOT of experience under her COLLAR. Courtesy of her MISTRESS. And she honestly doubted ANYONE could offer the redhead what SHE could. A level of EGOMANIA justified by the fact that Helena had chosen MONOGAMOUS SEX & RECIPROCATED LOVE over the SEVEN REGULARS and an ENDLESS supply of FRESH BLOOD that she had once told Alex about. And that was WITHOUT talking MAGIC.

[xcharmedxheirsx]

@xhelenaxleblancx​

Heh... How long ya got? Delilah was a classic SUBJECT ZERO when it came to coping mechanisms. She had more ways of COPING than problems she was COPING WITH. Which, quite disturbingly was more a commentary on JUST HOW MANY habits she’d picked up in a DESPERATE ATTEMPT to ignore the existence of her ACTUAL PROBLEMS. But perhaps the most PUBLICALLY KNOWN mechanism was how first thing in the morning. AND ONLY FIRST THING IN THE MORNING. Delilah had to start her car THREE TIMES IN A ROW without STALLING before she’d trust herself to DRIVE that day. Well, at the very least, the rest of the trailer park saw her START & RESTART her car three times in a row. (SOMETIMES MORE.) Whether or not they’d actually FIGURED OUT Blue’s Clues. Well that was just ONE MORE QUESTION Delilah liked to IGNORE.

Sera had had the same coping mechanism for YEARS. Since her BICURIOSITY first surfaced. Did it count as BICURIOSITY? She had all but CONFIRMED that she’d LOVE to fuck Helena. BASICALLY. As a means of TIPPING HER BRAIN -- LOPSIDED WITH HER THOUGHTS. Sera had turned to CHAMPAGNE. Copious. Amounts. Of champagne. She was an ALCOHOLIC to put mildly. And her father simply asked that she KEEP THE BINGING INDOORS and see a PRIVATE COUNSELLOR. What he didn’t know was that that counsellor had been the one to identify an UNDERLYING ROOT PROBLEM that her alcoholism just kind of... BRANCHED FROM. And thus began the story of how -- For the last... eight years? (NINE.) She’d actually been seeing a PSYCHIATRIST rather than a COUNSELLOR. Much to the DECEIT of her father. So yeah. She drunk herself stupid. And then paid someone to tell her WHY.

That was kind of Alex’s PROBLEM in a sense. She had always felt like there was a WORLD to take on. Or at least an ADVENTURE to be had. And failing that she could always COUNT ON HERSELF to find a new way to FUCK UP when it came to MAGIC and the rules SURROUNDING IT. As such, Alex had often lived in her very own ALTERNATE REALITY. And in that alternate reality, Alex’s actual coping mechanisms were FEW & FAR BETWEEN. She supposed her most SUCCESSFUL coping mechanism was to SING. Usually quite ANGRY songs. Usually spiting the person HURTING HER. But in recent times, that hadn’t QUITE done it for her. And while she certainly WOULDN’T go so far as to call it an ADDICTION it had by definition been taken up and shared with Helena as a means of COPING with the CHAOTIC NIGHT they were having. In short, she would attempt to SING OUT THE PAIN and when that failed she’d be one to consider FILLING HER BODY with NICOTINE. But ONLY in the PRESENCE and with PERMISSION of HELENA LEBLANC. Such was their DEAL.