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anotheroceanid · 1 month ago

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TWO OF THE (MANY) SCENES DELETED FROM CHAPTER 7 OF WTHB

(If something looks weird, it's because I converted markdown to html and THEN to RTF)

SCENE 1

APOLLO

WINTER SOLSTICE OF 2007

OLYMPUS

First thing Hermes says is: ‘No!’

Very loud. Very rude. The poor nymph who was serving the drinks runs the other way.

Apollo had his head turned so he could have a clear sight of the object of his desires, so Hermes grabbed his face with one hand and forced Apollo to look at him. ‘No.’ It was more of a whisper now, almost a prayer.

Twinged by jealousy and disappointment, Apollo addressed the elephant in the room. ‘Are you…’

‘No!’ Why Hermes sounded like a broken record, Apollo had no idea, but the knowledge that his brother possessed no passion for their lovely cousin made Apollo’s—very—stressful day a thousand times better. He beamed and looked at her again, just to be once again interrupted by Hermes, who invaded his line of sight. Before Apollo could protest, his brother was already speaking. ‘I care for her as you do for Artemis.’

Apollo furrowed his brows.

That was… odd.

Hermes wasn’t one to deny himself any sort of beauty, and he got a good eye for precious and forbidden things he could steal. What was more beautiful, precious and forbidden than the daughter their uncle sired in secrecy with a mortal with whom any other god would avoid meddling?

Apollo stretched his body so he could see beyond his brother. Across the room, stood Persephone—what a poetic name for a girl who bears the choice to save or destroy them all. She was the most glorious vision Apollo had ever had in front of his godly eyes. Confusing as it was, it had little to do with her striking looks—not that Apollo denied in any way the fine traces that designed his cousin’s face, for she had been gracefully constructed by her parents; Uncle Poseidon and her mortal mother made an exceptional work.

However, there was something even more charming underneath the gold silky skin that covered her nearly unhuman skin, something dangerous behind the porcelain teeth, something delicate than the shade of her indescribably sea-ish eyes. The beauty that puzzled Apollo was something warm and bright, very much like himself. Something kept as a secret, a poetry he hadn't yet read, a melody muffled by louder noises that refused to go quiet so he could delight in it peacefully.

As the God of Knowledge, the feeling of being in the dark was _unbearable_—for he was also the god of the sun, it was twice as painful.

He had merely met the sea’s Persephone, yet he felt completely drowned by the mystery of her deepnesses. What a wonderful day his sister had asked for his help. Like everyone else, he had been curious about the Forbidden Child, but nothing prepared Apollo for the greenish blue lakes of salt water that would welcome him that day. Then his sister was taken, and Persephone Jackson chose to go on that quest.

He knew she sought for her own friend. But she was there. Now, Artemis was returned to him and all thanks to the non-rule-abiding daughter of the sea, who may be the cause of his death in a few months. By trying to help her quest, Apollo only got more interested.

With Artemis returned, he found himself with nothing else to think about but Percy Jackson. Well, technically the war was happening, but as she was the most important piece of the chessboard, by thinking of her, he thought of the war.

One thing in particular twitched inside of Apollo: did Persephone Jackson know what she was owned?

She just saved his sister. She could ask him anything in exchange. However, nothing so far. What sort of mortal did not demand payment from a god? Apollo would grant her any gift; be it the art of prophecy or an EGOT. Anything.

There she was, laughing at something her father just told her. Apollo sighed dreamily, imagining himself as the reason for her smile.

Once again, Hermes grunted. ‘_No!_’

‘She is bewildering.’ Apollo blinked slowly, tilting his head to the side slightly.

‘She is.’ Hermes, though mourningful, agreed. ‘But she already has too much on her shoulders.’

Playfully, Apollo opened a smile. ‘I can be helpful.’ He sang.

‘She doesn’t need this sort of help.’ Hermes made a face, then softened it when he turned to look at her. ‘Percy wants a quiet life. She never wanted any of it, and yet, because of us, she has so little to live of her own life. It’s not fair.’

Apollo pressed his lips together, the lines of the prophecy dancing on his mind. There were so many ways that could play out, yet he did admit that most of them ended up badly for her.

Apollo studied the expression of his younger brother’s face—so sad it broke Apollo’s hypothetical heart. Sorrow did not go well with Hermes, though lately it was all that existed there. The betrayal of Luke Castellan was a low blow on him, and though the boy still lived, it didn’t change that he was forever lost. Nothing cut deeper than the loss of a child.

Softly, Apollo places his hand on the arm of Hermes, caressing it lightly. There wasn’t much to be said, and there was very little comfort to be offered in these dark times. Only a miracle could save his son, and even the gods were sceptical about miracles.

Then, like one his father’s thunder, it hit him. ‘You think she can do it!’

Hermes' eyes flared for a second. ‘It doesn’t matter.’ He shrugged. ‘I know that she can, but I also know how it would be damaging for her to keep trying until she succeeded. I will not insist.’

‘But you asked.’ Apollo didn’t need an answer, and Hermes did not try to give him one. ‘I see it.’

‘See what?’

‘Your affections.’ Apollo closed his eyes, letting the knowledge sink in. ‘You do care for her as I do for Artemis. I can see how pure it is, and the last thing I’d wish is to cause you pain, brother. I shall not pursue her, not without your blessing.’ That was a lament. Just because he intended to keep his word, didn’t mean he liked to say them.

Something roared inside of him. For a second, he looked again at Percy Jackson. A last glimpse of what he would never have—she would be to him like one of those unsolved questions in history that the mortals never stopped to look for answers, even if it was pointless to make such an effort; there was poetry in it. The eternal longing for answers. Had she been born in a different era, she too would be the object of wonder for those who came after her, the muse of artists and the hero of kids, and maybe his own name would collapse with hers, and they’d be tied together, one way or another.

There is something suffocating about her, and gods shouldn’t feel breathless.

His second lasted a little longer. When he makes a move to look away. It’s when his eyes meet with hers. Both turn away immediately. Warmth goes right into Apollo’s cheeks.

He’s flushed and his eyes flared gold for a second—he hoped no one had seen that. Apollo decided the best thing to do was to stare to the ground until he was swallowed by it.

‘Don’t make promises you cannot keep.’ He heard Hermes exhaling.

‘I can keep promises!’ Apollo retorted.

‘Let me rephrase it then, don’t make promises that’ll hurt you.’ Hermes murmured. ‘If you must, you have my blessing.’

Apollo widened his eyes and stared at his brother in disbelief. ‘Wait, really?’

Closing his eyes, Hermes continued. ‘I don’t know what might happen to us in the future. I mean, you don’t know, so you can imagine how lost I am. I don’t want to make your last moments miserable.’

‘Hm, thanks?’

‘I’ve noticed you have been at home recently.’

‘I live there, in case you don’t remember.’

Hermes took a deep breath. ‘You’ve been there. Daydreaming, singing to the walls, painting…’

‘I do that quite often.’

‘You do.’ Hermes agreed. ‘But there’s always a part of you with someone. Not in the past days. You’ve gathered your essence at home. And I know you.’

‘You’ve been stalking me!?’ Apollo raised a brow, thinking about the exceedingly long time he spent looking for a beach with the exact same shade of green of Percy Jackson’s eyes.

‘No. But our moms talk.’

‘Oh, of course.’

‘What I’m saying is: if that will bring you happiness, you shall have it.’ Hermes declared. ‘Under the condition that you must treat her with the utmost kindness, either Percy comes to want you or not. Her body, her soul, her mind and her heart, they’re far too frail to be handled bluntly, and I would not stand one more scratch on her.’

‘I see…’

‘You can promise me this?’

Apollo smiled thankfully to his brother. ‘Of course I can.’

SCENE 2

AUGUST 18TH, 2010

CAMP HALF-BLOOD

If there was anything more endearing than his girlfriend surrounded by little kids, Apollo was unaware of it. Made his stomach flutter with butterflies and his heart pump on his chest like a hammer—he did not possess a stomach nor a heart, but the metaphor stood.

What a lovely day it was. Couldn’t be any different. He personally made sure Percy had a perfectly sunny day for her birthday, with a pretty sunrise and an even prettier sunset, for Apollo knew she loved those. Beside his own interference, everything settled perfectly in place, creating a picturesque image that contrasted with the dreadful events of the past years. Apollo hoped she could make sweeter memories regarding her birthday, other than the bloodshed she witnessed during the war.

He longed for better memories. For her and for himself, too. Hopefully, together. Apollo can't help the warm flush on his cheeks, nor the smirk that stretches across his face. The baby in his arms—well, she is technically a toddler, but to him his kids were babies forever—laughs and touches his cheeks, accusing her daddy of looking silly. Thankfully, no one else notices. Kayla, Austin and Will, the eldest of his demigod kids, are laughing about something. In fact, it looks like Kayla and Austin are laughing about something that shifts Will’s face from rosy to scarlet. Apollo can imagine what it is. His son is not exactly subtle.

Apollo let himself be blinded for a second by the smiles on their faces. That was a good memory. It was, perhaps, maybe endearing enough to compete with Percy playing with little kids. As petty as it sounded, Apollo took pride in the fact that his kids did feel comfortable enough around him—most of his peers couldn’t say the same. He twirled the younger ones in the air, created sparkles around them just to see the glitter in their eyes, joked with the older ones and sang with them a song every now and then. He tried not to think about how his cabin numbers shrunk during the war.

Apollo closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He knew better than anyone else the consequences of dwelling on the past. Instead, he reminded himself the kids were in Elysium and nothing could hurt them anymore. They would want Apollo to take care of their siblings, and that was under his power. Now, not from the shadows and under his father’s rules. Thanks to Percy.

From now on, good memories only, he thought, smelling the sweet scents of flowers and sunshine from his children.

He wished Percy could join him. Apollo knew for a fact she was particularly close to Will, but as far as everyone knew, Percy wasn't really close to Apollo. To Hermes? Yes, a lot of talk about that. To Artemis? Of course, it was secret to no one that Percy was the very kind of person her sister enjoyed having around. When it came to Percy and Apollo, it was always ironically in the dark. That didn't bother him… Not as much as it would've, back in the ancient times. He could keep his cool, and if there was one thing he learned about romance, is that what nobody knows, nobody ruins—which was actually a joke about Odysseus being seriously unlucky, but the meaning changed overtime.

His _Ocean Belle_… So close and so far. For now, if having Percy in secrecy was synonymous to having Percy, then let it be it. He could watch her during the day and be with her during the night, where her smiles and laughter and the glitter in her eyes would belong entirely to him. When she would tell him and no one else about her day and confine to him her secrets, making of the curve of his neck a nest where she could lay her head and rest, warmed by the heat of his body as they talked through the night. Their secrecy was something he appreciated, however, to be in her presence and not being near her was torture; all that Apollo wished was to have her and his kids all together in one place, and to have his fingers intertwined with hers in public.

Well, one thing at a time. He wouldn't want Uncle Poseidon—or worse, cousin Triton—getting in their way, much less Apollo's own father. So close to the end of the war, all eyes were set on her and Apollo wasn't deaf to the whispers about his beloved. If what they had was known, all the vultures would come to spoil their happiness. They'd see it as an invitation, a challenge to overturn, a nuisance—not to say obstacle—that could be solved through trickery.

It happened before. It happened all the time. Happened with his stepmother, when she was a maiden and refused to take a suitor. Apollo's father tricked her in order to have her as his wife. Then the same with Aphrodite, who was forced into marriage to avoid a war amongst gods. Even with the first Persephone, whose fate had been decided spitefully behind her mother's back. Apollo knew his family. He knew no one would dare to cross Poseidon and chase after his youngest, most beloved, and first-ever demigod daughter. Problem was: Poseidon had already been crossed, and by Apollo, the nephew he loved the most and trusted the most. Other suitors wouldn't have to worry as much about his rage, if such rage was already directed into someone else.

Apollo was no fool to think that his uncle would endorse any god’s relationship with Percy. Not so soon after the war, and if Apollo knew a thing or other about his uncle, not ever. Apollo did know Poseidon. They had a relationship as solid as the walls of Troy that together they raised from the rubble of their—unfortunately failed—rebellion. His uncle was not the forgiving type. He would have to be gently introduced to the concept of having a son-in-law before being introduced to the son-in-law.

That's alright, Apollo thought, brushing away the pessimism from his mind, all it takes is a little patience and a few years.

He watched Percy through the corner of his eyes a little longer. She was dutifully followed by Hades’ son, who carried a plate full of cookies in his hands like a lion guarding its prey. Percy said something that got Nico di Angelo seriously troubled while she stormed into laughter. Adorable, Apollo thought, letting the sound of her laughs get into his ears, so he could appreciate the cadence of her voice.

Apollo took another deep breath and rested his chin on the top of his daughter’s head. ‘Dad is silly.’ Said the three-year-old girl, the youngest of his living children.

Apollo chuckled. ‘Sillier than you think, Amy.’ He said, kissing her cheek.

As the hours flew by and kids got tired, Apollo sneaked the essence of his body, making most of it invisible. He saw as Percy walked away from the crowd, following with Hades' son toward the beach—probably to watch the sunset, and Apollo hoped she’d enjoy the show made just for her. In the meanwhile, he used the opportunity to walk around and make sure everything was safe for the next hours—he didn't want anyone sticking their noses on his business.

Surprisingly, considering the place was crowded with gods and demigods who were fighting each other to death just a year ago, it was all peaceful. Well, except for a reasonably tipsy Persephone in a corner, because she tended to brag in detail about her excessively happy married life, and no one wanted to listen to her talking about Uncle Hades when she was like that. Especially considering it was summer, and she was probably missing him. Thankfully, Hecate was near Persephone, avoiding her from traumatising this generation.

Apollo passed through Rhode and Triton, his sibling-in-law. If he had to pick one to open his heart about his secret relationship with their sister, it would be Rhode. She was the calmer in her family, and Apollo once was the pupil to her late husband, meaning he would spend a lot of time in their household. Few gods had that lovely personality. But not at that moment. The former Sun Bride had a deadly expression on her face, and her brother Triton had a hand on her arm, just in case he needed to restrain her.

He couldn't help but feel sympathy for her obvious irritation. Apollo too hated her brother.

Not Triton. The other one, from her mother's side. Eros. He was a hateful feathery creature that no one deserved to endure—except, perhaps, the other hateful feathery creature that usually followed him around, Zephyrus. Of course, as much as Apollo hated Eros, he doubted anyone despised him more than his older sister, Rhode. In fact, his sister-in-law avoided anyone from her mother's brood, having herself an aversion for the Goddess of Love. Curiously, Aphrodite kept trying to retrieve her daughter's love and forgiveness, even after years and years of estrangement.

The little group, formed by Eros, Aphrodite and poor Rhode and Triton, tried to keep a talk. At least, Aphrodite tried. Every time Eros spoke, Rhode's eyes glazed with fury and Triton had to tighten his hold on her arm.

Well, they won't be interrupting, Apollo cheered.

A few metres away, Poseidon and Zeus… Laughed? Screamed at each other? Apollo wasn't quite sure. It was always a mystery between them, but they were loud. Poor Uncle Hades closed his eyes and inhaled deeply between every other word, moving his head in an attempt to avoid the sounds. Even Apollo thought he might go deaf if he walked too close.

They talked about something they did about the French Revolution. Uncle Hades had a nasty expression, making a remark about how much he hated how people died of stupid causes back then. As if it was the funniest joke they've ever heard, Zeus and Poseidon threw their heads back while Hades rolled his eyes.

Apollo didn't remember the last time he’d seen the Big Three _talking_—without the war threats or the comments about the time living (or not) in Kronos’ stomach. Before they started to talk about the most unsavoury parts of the 18th century and their adventures then, Apollo walked away.

The demigods were dancing and singing to the same ABBA song they've been obsessing with ever since last year. Apollo smiled, thinking of how Percy would hum that song whenever she was distracted. He walked past her bestest friend, Annabeth Chase; smiling like that, leaning on a boy and cracking jokes, she looked like a completely different person from how she behaved when she was working as architect in Olympus—always so uptight and serious.

Nearing his brother Hermes, Apollo chuckled when he saw his face. Poor Hermes didn't have a thought behind his eyes, he just glanced away while Demeter and Ares kept talking to him furiously, while Dionysus stood right beside them with a serious expression.

‘My Katie is a good girl.’ Demeter boasted. ‘I don't want that Trant boy anywhere near her!’

Hermes sighed. ‘Travis, you mean.’

‘And I don't approve of Clarisse's relationship with your other son, whatever his name is!’ Ares pronounced.

‘Isn’t Clarisse like, nineteen?’ Hermes frowned, sipping his nectar mindlessly.

Ares crossed his arms in front of his arms. ‘So?’

‘Isn't that a little late to worry about who she dates?’

‘Well,’ Ares started, voice a pitch higher, ‘I never had to care about that before that good-for-nothing son of yours stepped in!’

Apollo made his better efforts not to laugh. That was funny when it didn’t include him being beaten out of existence by Uncle Poseidon. Yet, he should feel sympathy for his fellow… His fellow dating-a-Olympian’s-daughter friend? Maybe they should start a club, maybe Uncle Hades would enjoy having someone to talk with beside his brothers, and Apollo wouldn't complain about having a Big Three ally.

‘Ares, I don't think this is the way to approach 21st century parenting, you know?’ Hermes rolled his eyes. ‘The whole “not letting my daughter date"’ went out of fashion after World War II.’

‘I still don't trust that brat of yours, he's up to something!’

Demeter then was quick to add: ‘The other one too!’ She pointed out. ‘He also has a terrible diet. I cannot imagine what his intestines look like with that amount of sugar he eats.’

Like the words had been carried by the wind, Hermes simply nodded and then turned to their younger brother. ‘What about you? Are any of my kids dating your son?’

Dionysus smiled and shook his head. ‘Oh, no. Thankfully not!’ Dionysus raised his Diet Coke to the sky. ‘I believe he's seeing one of my maenads. I just love seeing someone who's not me getting a lecture.’

Hermes sneered, and this time Apollo laughed and made sure Hermes would hear.

‘Shouldn't you be with your kids?’ Mentally, Hermes inquired.

‘I am.’ Apollo answered, picturing in Hermes mind an image of another version of him playing with the kids.

‘If you three would excuse me, I'll go talk to Apollo.’ Naturally as breathing, Hermes dismissed everyone and walked away. ‘Whatever it is, don't do it.’

‘C'mon, where is my free spirited brother who'd help me in the craziest quests?’

‘My limit is whatever the distance between my pretty face and uncle's Trident.’ Hermes grunted. ‘Where is Percy?’

‘Don't worry, she's with Nico di Angelo.’

‘Your son's crush?’

‘Isn't it lovely that her little, uh, shadow is my Will's crush?’

Even if there was a glitter of endearment in his eyes, Hermes pretended to be annoyed. ‘It's almost as if they're hormonal teenagers.’

‘It’s romantic!’ Apollo sighed.

‘If you say so.’ Hermes retorted. ‘What do you want?’

‘Oh, I did not come here with demands.’ Apollo hummed. ‘I just assumed that my little brother would help me give my beautiful maiden a nice birthday night, you know? Just making sure her dad doesn't notice if she goes missing for an hour or two.’

‘Are you crazy!?’ Hermes exhaled. ‘Everyone is here, and they'll notice if the hero of Olympus simply vanishes.*’

‘I know you could buy me thirty minutes. Then thirty minutes more. And then a little longer, I promise we'll be back before 10A.M.’

‘You said the same last time.’ Hermes groaned.

‘You know I can't lie. Just one hour.’

‘You can if you believe in your lie. Thirty-five minutes.’

‘Forty-five.’

‘Forty. Last offer.’

‘Deal. You're the best, brother.’

‘That someday will get me fucked up.’

#wthb fic

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a-sunset-outside-my-window · 6 months ago

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fic recs of the month

This is just a collection of my fic recs for the month of march, have fun <3

The Lab

by @de-sire-blog (de_sire) on Ao3

“I don’t get it,” Sirius says truthfully. “Remus is such a nice person, why does everyone pretend like he’s some kind of wicked stepmother?”

James laughs joyfully and winks at Sirius. “Are we even talking about the same person?” He holds out his hand above his head. “Big guy, about this tall, curly hair? Temper like a sleeping dragon? Smart, but a bit full of himself? Can kill you with his eyes?”

Sirius raises his eyebrows and laughs as well. “No, I don’t think we are talking about the same person at all.”

A love story about healing, new beginnings and growing up. Academia! Romance! Shared cigarettes, cute cats, lots of coffee and the most amorous business trip you have ever seen.

the hare and the hound

by @steelycunt (aeridi0nis) on Ao3

‘He’ll never have to do it again, Remus realises. He can just keep being good, if he just behaves, he’ll never have to do it again, never with the dark and the bleeding and the crying. He just can’t give them reason to be angry at him, and he won’t, he hasn’t. And his mum is right – the drink does make him feel a little better.’

or:

Remus is a terribly behaved five-year-old. He doesn’t really think so himself, but his parents lock him in the cellar every month, so he must be doing something to deserve it. Well, not anymore. He’s got a plan, see, sort of. He’ll never go downstairs again.

Dusk

by @theresthesnitch on Ao3

“That’s not fair.” Sirius was crying now, and Remus swiped his tears away with his thumb. “This isn’t fair. We haven’t had enough time. It’s not fair.”

“I know, love.” Remus leaned in for a kiss, and wondered if it would be the last. “I have loved you for sixty-two years, and it’s nowhere near enough.”

Sirius loses his memories.

Lupine

by @wolfstarbuxks (BayleyWinchester) on Ao3

Lupine adjective lu·pine | \ ˈlü-ˌpīn \ Definition of lupine : WOLFISH

Teddy is Remus' everything in life. He'd do anything for his son - including going to the same zoo, twice a week for a year so that his son could see the wolves that he had fallen in love with.

And if that meant that Remus got to met a sexy zookeeper, who was he to complain?

CONSTANT VIGILANCE and COMMON SENSE

by darkbluedark on Ao3

In which Alastor not-yet-"Mad-Eye"-but-still-quite-Mad Moody does as Alastor "Just Mad" Moody does, and brings a sneakoscope to an Order meeting.

~The kind of fix-it that makes so much sense that the fact that it isn't canon should be considered a plot hole in itself~

A Brief History of Dragons

by @eyra on Ao3

It's lovely up here; all meadows dotted with wildflowers, wind-beaten tracks criss-crossing this way and that through the fields, weaving inland to the pinewoods. The sun's hot on his back as he passes ramshackle stone walls, long since crumbled to piles of ancient rubble and scree, and then the path winds downwards, still following the line of the coast until Sirius finds himself outside an old white cottage, tucked away behind the hill with a rose garden that faces out to the sea.

Sirius moves to Cornwall for the summer and meets a rude, beautiful boy who is writing a book that may or may not be about dragons.

The Phoenix Agency

by LupinsChocolatePraline on Ao3

Sirius Black is excited to start his first full-time job after Uni, but this life change doesn’t sit well with his boyfriend who is difficult to live with on a good day, abusive on all other days. Sirius is good at pretending that everything is alright, he can even convince himself, but sometimes he wishes things were different. The problem is – Fabian is all Sirius has. Or so they both think.

Remus Lupin is a senior copywriter at an advertising agency, currently single by choice, and very comfortable with his unchanging daily routine, his familiar colleagues and his company-issued ergonomic chair that’s been his for three years now. When his favourite graphic designer is replaced by a twitchy, fresh-out-of-university Sirius Black, his peaceful routine takes an unexpected hit.

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philosophicalpug · 7 months ago

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Ship whiteknight?

Why white knight? Well let me show you

So, we will start out with the obvious: beacon. why would I ship this annoying dork with a girl that is clearly not interested and has rejected his advances multiple times? It’s simple, I don’t I ship the jaune that helps people,

See he’s a dumb teenager, they both are, but the key here is that jaune matures, sure the intended comedy left more than a little room for sour interpretation, he stopped and saw that she wanted to be with another, and promptly ceased his advances, this is very key to his characterization that we must forget, he genuinely wants her to be happy. And when Neptune beefs it because of his own insecurities? Jaune doesn’t come in for the rebound or any opportunistic sense, no, he confronts him and makes sure Weiss has a good evening.

Not only that, he follows up on his promise to Pyrrha at the dance, this once more highlights his good qualities, he may not be particularly clever or insightful at times, but when he gets it, he gets it

At his heart, he’s someone who tries his best and wants only the best for others. Rocking the dress while played for laughs, still shows that he will go above and beyond because people matter to him

(Also doing this in front of Weiss is important too, he’s not afraid of acting the fool to his crush, not at all! Hes been setting aside the macho bravado, which is a good thing if he’s ever to be in a real relationship) Now onto some Weiss analysis from the beacon era, pompous, classic rich girl, doesn’t have time for all this nonsense and is a career girl through and through- and though she would never admit it, she’s just as much of a dolt as those that surround her,

But we know she’s come from a terrible household, cold was putting it nicely, her fathers a terrible man who doesn’t love anything except money, her mother is an alcoholic that didn’t love them enough (if at all) her older sister being the only member of family where she’s had a consistent positive relationship, and she ended up running away to the military, leaving behind all the eldest daughter shield duties and trauma to her, which, boy that was a lot. And her little brother, her father’s favorite, she’s not anywhere near mature enough to confront, separate and acknowledge her feelings for said brother who is being raised to be exactly as detestable as the man that sired him. And what choice does Whitley have? He was so young, and he was left behind. Its safe to say she wants a normal, loving life. Desperately. It’s easy to see it in things like Zwei, how over the moon she was for the little guy, and in winter, how she comes to idolize her and seeks her approval over anyone’s. This girl is STARVED for affection.

With beacon being her chance to spread her wings a bit, it’s also natural to see that she would be interested in pursuing a romantic relationship, at her own pace. It’s no wonder that at first early volumes Weiss didn’t like Jaune-she doubtlessly dealt with the bravado of a dozen boys trying to gain her favor because of her status and wealth. Additionally, jaunes impostor syndrome ultimately bled into his interactions with Weiss as well, he was faking it all in beacon, what’s a little more to impress a girl? it’s not like shed like the real him, right? This and Weiss’s self-image of needing to be this pristine, perfect princess is also a huge factor as to why white knight wouldn’t work at beacon, its simply too early, Jaunes attempts were at the height of both their respective character flaws/failings. There's no WAY it would have worked.

Which is why she gravitated to Neptune, I think it was her trying to get out of her shell and try new things, yet still in the trappings of the “need to be pristine” persona. Thinking about this, seriously, yeah of course she was going to get a crush on Neptune, it’s what she knows except she’s convinced herself that its “different”. This suave guy that’s well dressed, knows what a perfect contrast to jaune doing is. It’s not like Weiss really knows Neptune but she thinks she does, at this stage of her life she’s really ruled by her first impressions of people (Ruby Pyrrha Jaune are some examples)

Back to the dance, an entire night worrying, feeling all sorts of emotions after what is likely the first time she opened herself up to a relationship and she’s been left behind. But of course, she must act like it doesn’t bother her, she’s Weiss Schnee, she’s above little insecurities like that. And along comes Jaune with the dress, she saw him make himself the fool in front of everyone laughing along it was a good time for all.

Lo and behold! When Neptune came back she started asking what happened, that she thought he was too embarrassed, Neptune says that it was Jaune that convinced him to come. The boy she’s rejected time and time again, the one she likely thought no more than a nuisance at best, took it all in stride and made sure she had a good time, he definitively proved himself as someone trustworthy, especially with how “an arc never goes back on their word”. It’s no wonder that at this point many people think it could potentially work out, they both have matured, and Weiss finally sees that while Jaunes attempts were annoying and grating, they were always sincere, especially when you consider he had no idea the significance of the Schnee name before.

This is all a solid foundation to work with, they’ve matured a decent bit from where they started, both now able to see each other in a better light. Its not that they are head over heels for each other, but you can’t deny this works as a solid foundation for a possible relationship down the line

But of course, it’s not all gumdrops and Weiss-cream

FALL OF BEACON Moving onto the fall of beacon the first person jaune calls for help with Pyrrha is Weiss, in his most vulnerable moment he reaches out to her, now could this just be how the writers decided the order of things would go? Sure. But consider this

I think he believes Weiss to be the best among them, someone who he sees as levelheaded and skilled to do something about it, since her semblance is the most flexible one of them all. If theres anyone who can do something, it’s her.

POST FALL

They’ve both are in their lowest point, truly where the new versions of themselves are put to the test, and oddly enough, both share a parallel with returning home both wouldn’t choose to go home, but one of them was forced to. Jaune decided to persist with his dream and followed through to help his friends, his loyalty is almost second to none: he was a hack, a fraud, no business being amongst his heroes, a dork at the best of times. The easiest thing he could do is return home. No one would blame him. But he didn’t.

Jaune is loyal, astoundingly so, he has a family, with 7 sisters, he could have gone home after the fall, no one would have thought twice about it. Instead, he stuck through, traveling for weeks through monster infested terrains for his friends with whatever they needed. At this point has been steadily improving, no longer just some punk that doesn’t know what they are doing.

(mans stopped a whole ass charging man-devil-horse -hybrid dead in its tracks, noodle boy has been promoted to Pasta with Beef) And yet...he’s still very affected by the fall, mourning. In the battle of haven he was recklessly pursuing cinder, he’s someone with a lot of pain, someone who clearly doesn’t think themselves as important as those that surround him.

Meanwhile everything in the Schnee manor is shit show, Weiss is back in the middle of her family dynamic, looking to be free once more. She ends up struck by her father, disowned and generally treated with scorn, then she gets kidnapped by bandits afterwards. Theres really nothing Weiss wouldn’t do to find real family. By the time they are all reunited, I think she will notice just how the members of Team J_NR are people to trust and confine in. Knowing what we know, Nora and Ren didn’t really have anywhere else to go given they are orphans, so it would make sense for them to follow ruby to haven. But once again, Jaune demonstrates true courage and chooses the hard path. That means something for sure. Skipping to the haven fight again, this is another heavy moment, particularly when Weiss-

Well, Weiss was nothing less than struck down. And what is Jaunes immediate response? The only one he seems to have, to be there, no matter what. And in that instinct to protect, in caring for others, he unlocks the mystery of his soul.

At his core he only wants to help, a selfless desire so strong, so literally suffused in his very essence of being that it actively manifests itself in the world.

You can’t tell me this means nothing to her. For a girl that has lived in a stifling coffin of a home. To find someone who’s so selfless and caring, despite never once needing to. Finding someone that manages to see her for who she is, who cares for their happiness without asking anything in return. Someone whom despite all they have suffered, still pushes forward to be there every moment they can in service for others. Someone who reached out with their very soul to halt the hand of death, fueling your own to give you the strength to come back, to your loved ones, never once even mentioning it. Is it any real surprise that love is in the cards for these two?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ What makes this ship work is all the post beacon stuff, they both have suffered terrible losses yet they still need to push through, they both have matured and see each other for what they really are, they can both look back on their beacon days and reminisce, laugh about how stupid they were, mourn lost friends and in that, they find comfort. They have both been given the space to improve and be better, and it’s not hard to see the qualities they would see in each other Jaune is a loyal and loving person, he knows about family and would sooner suffer ills before ever breaking a promise, someone who WILL love someone to the fullest. Weiss may be cold, but she’s a sweetheart under all that, she’s been hurt and desperately wants to love and be loved, something jaune wouldn’t hesitate to do.

#rwby #jaune arc #weiss schnee #character analysis #white knight #whiteknight #in this essay i will #rwby shipping #your honor they cute #shipping #weiss deserves LOVE and jaune can GIVE IT

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helplesslypurple77 · 1 year ago

Text

Day 3-Fukuzawa/Reader w/ Lingerie and Wedding Night

Notes: btw the lingerie im describing is the Lorna Lace collection in white. It's super pretty you should google it. Haha lol, and i also realized halfway through writing this that this is technically a rich CEO au, jumping on the hype train i guess

I actually have a healthy relationship with my father, but like any good woman i have a weakness for sexy middle aged men

You had always known this would happen. It was the oldest daughter's duty to marry a man and carry on the family line. This was the fact that had been drilled into your head since you could walk. A girl could not inherit the daily company no, that duty went to the male children, no matter how dumb they were. And you had accepted it as well. It's not like you liked it or anything, in fact you thought the entire rule was old fashioned and doomed to fail, but there really wasn't much choice in the matter.

And you weren't too unhappy, you yourself didn't want to run the company, but your second sister deserved to, not your arrogant, lazy brothers. Second sister had worked hard all her life, was intelligent and beautiful and kind and deserved to inherit the company over the men. Everyone knew it, the servants whispered and gossip was prevalent around high society, but father refused, so intent on tradition that he doomed the company to fail. All you wanted in life was to live a comfortable life with a handsome man who treated you with respect, and maybe have a child or two.

So that's why you were here, a newlywed woman to a man twenty years your senior, sold off like cattle with no choice in the matter. You had never even seen your new husband. The marriage talks had happened without your input obviously and the ceremony was shot down by your father who, ‘didn't want to waste resources on a stuffy event like that.’ All you had were rumors, for your new husband did not like public appearances, and there were suspiciously few photos of him.

Yukichi Fukuzawa, the president of ADA corp, and a man of high social standing and wealth. He was forty-five, apparently a ‘highly upstanding person from a highly reputable background,’ and very wealthy. And also your new husband. You supposed you were lucky to ‘score’ such a highly sought after man, even if he was a lot older than you but you had at least hoped to marry a man closer to you in age. But if you were lucky he would leave you to your own devices and let you live your life happy, if a little lonely.

A knock sounded and second sister peaked her head in, sending you a smile. You relaxed, sinking back onto the soft silk of the bed you were sitting on, and shot her a nervous smile. She slipped inside, closing the door behind her.

Second sister Helena was tall, and with her long golden hair and blue eyes she could have easily been mistaken for a model. She looked nothing like you, and it made sense, given that you had different mothers. Father had sired each of his children with a different woman in an effort to create the perfect male heir. And because father was a man of high standing many women were lining up for the chance to have a child support check. And of course, he picked only the most attractive women. Second sister’s mother was a Swedish runway model, while yours had been a movie actress. Your brother's mothers were also varied, from models to actresses to intellectuals, all with stunning looks and the brains to match. Your father might be a douchebag but his theory held water, all the children of your family were stunning beauties, and all intelligent as well.

She came to sit next to you on the bed, and passed a small box in your direction with an apologetic smile. “I missed your twenty-fifth birthday sis, so here.” You shoot her a grateful thanks, fingering the box in your lap. It's small, maybe five inches and perfectly square, wrapped in colorful polka dot paper. You carefully slip the sides open, trying not to make a mess. Your sister giggles beside you.

“You wanna hear something funny?” You stop, raising an eyebrow in her direction. Whenever that line excites your sister's mouth, she's usually talking about one of two things. Boys, or the most horrific thing you can think of. You'll never forget the one time she preceded that one line by telling you most gleefully that her ex boyfriend had ‘accidentally’ gotten run over then lit on fire then drowned in the ocean. She glares balefully at your expression. “What…it's nothing bad. I met your new husband, and girl,” She pauses, wiggling her eyebrows excitedly. “He's such a dilf! I'm so happy for you!”

It's about now when you get the paper off the present, and see the pink box with black letters scrawled across it that say , ‘Agent Provocateur’ in a pretty curly font. You choke on your spit, and start coughing violently. Your sister pounds you on the back in good spirits. When you finally finish your coughing fit, you turn to her with a bemused smile on your face. “I dont no weather to hit you or hug you, Helena.” She smiles. “Open it.” She says, excitement all over her face. “I just know you're going to love it.”

You do as she instructs, and from within the crinkly tissue paper you pull the naughty treasure inside. You shake your head with a smile, if nothing else your sister has always had good taste. Its white, befitting of a wedding/birthday gift, and the small amount of fabric it possesses is a pretty floral lace. The bra is a half cup, with little white bows at the spot where the strap starts. The panties are lace as well, with a diamond pattern line of holes going all the way around, leaving the embarrassing parts uncovered. It even comes with white lace stockings, and a garter to hold them up. You shoot your sister an embarrassed smile. “Thank you Helena, they're absolutely beautiful.” She gives you a small side hug in response. “I know.” She says. “Now try them on.”

All complaints are useless against her, she uses everything from pleading to guilt tripping and at some point you just give up and do as she requests. And as you gaze on yourself in the mirror, you can really say you're glad you did. You look innocent, but also sexy and powerful and you think that if you were marrying the man you loved you would wear this gift. You feel kind of bad that it's going to stay sealed away in a box for your entire life. The bra hugs your breast perfectly, shoving them up a little to provide the perfect amount of cleavage, and the lace panties frame your butt perfectly. The stockings and garter just add the perfect bit of naughty to the otherwise innocent(as innocent as Lingerie can get) picture. Your sister pokes her head around the bathroom door, grinning as you shriek in embarrassment and yank on the silk robe she had left you. Is suspiciously short, only reaching mid thigh but it's better than nothing.

She shoves you into a chair, and gets started on your makeup. You sigh. “Why do I even need makeup, it's not like anybody is going to see me.” She tuts threateningly. “It's to complete the look. Now don't move.” She starts on your base, and for a while the only sound is her gentle humming, and the squirt of makeup products.

It's not until Helena moves onto the hair that she breaks the peaceful mood. “And did father not tell you? You're supposed to ‘consummate’ the marriage tonight.” You open your eyes abruptly with a shout of surprise. “What?” She shrugs. “I guess he didn't, well anyway he should be coming…” Helena checks her watch with a glance, as she skilfully braids white and pink ribbons into your hair. “In about two minutes!”

Even with your shrieks of protest you're not allowed to move until she finishes her hair, and by the time she does it's already too late. She sends you a smile as she picks up her purse and kisses you on the cheek. You glare. “Helena! You took so long i dont have time to change.” She opens the door and you receive a playful grin. “I know,” She says, and you have the dreadful feeling you’ve fallen into a trap. “That was the plan. Have fun big sister.” And with that, she’s gone, leaving you a nervous wreck done up in lingerie, a honey trap just waiting for a man to fall right in. You rush to the bathroom, throwing a glance at the large mirror. You must admit she did a good job, you look very pretty with pink eyeshadow and gold glitter and your hair done up a sexy half updo, but you don't want to look good. You don't want to look like you were waiting here to seduce him. Hopefully you can just explain yourself and the two of you can just sleep. Of what if he thought you were trying to seduce him and got all cocky. That would be humiliating. Your pride would be forever tarnished and your dreams of a quiet life ruined. All because of Helena and her terrible ideas!

Your (probably too dramatic) spiral of doom is interrupted by a quiet knock on the door. You take a deep breath, steady your heart and tie your bathrobe tight, and answer the door.

The sight that greets you when you open the door is surprising to say the least and you suddenly understand what your sister meant when she said he was ‘a dilf’, for the man in the hallway is, quite literally, the quintessential dilf. He is tall, and oh so handsome, with silver hair and piercing gray blue eyes surrounded by the slightest wrinkles. He clears his throat. “Are you Miss Name?”

You thank your sister for making you learn a poker face and send him a small, blank smile. “Yes, are you Mr. Fukuzawa?” Those sexy eyes scan your face, catching on the gold glitter in the corners of your eyes before he nods. “May I come in Miss?” You open the door wider and allow him in, your smile never wavering. You take your seats, sitting across from each other conveniently ignoring the bed on the other side of the room. In horror you realize the box from your sister is still sitting on the table, but a sigh of relief escapes your lips as you see the top of the box is flipped over, the incriminating lettering hidden from sight.

It's hard not to notice how unfairly sexy Fukuzawa looks in a suit, and it makes all these really inappropriate thoughts of sitting on that lap pour into your brain. But still, you do your best to uphold your smile as you speak. “I'm sorry Mr. Fukuzawa, my father unfortunately forgot to inform me that you would be coming tonight.” Your father most definitely did not forget, it's more than likely that he didn't tell you in fear that you would escape. You cursed your father out in your brain, all while maintaining that smile on your lips.

He nods. “It is alright. I didn't intend to consummate this wedding in the first place.” This is what you wanted, but for some reason you feel a little let down. Maybe he doesn't find you attractive? You sigh, he must be blind then. Or gay.

“I see.” is all you say. The room falls into an uncomfortable silence. It's almost comical how your mood has taken a dramatic turn. Not five minutes ago you were lamenting the fact that your husband might be interested, and now you were unhappy that he in fact, was not interested in you. A slight glare entered your eyes and with your mouth still curved into that small smile you made quite the threatening picture. Fukuzawa spoke again, probably fishing for things to say in an effort to make you more comfortable, because of corse he was kind and able to read the room, and of course he didnt want to fuck you.

“The weather is lovely today isn't it Miss Name?”

“I suppose.” You know you sound curt and unfriendly, and you know it's not fair of you, but you're really annoyed. Fukuzawa’s smile wavers a bit at your curt attitude, but he still smiles comfortingly at you. This only makes you angrier. How dare he be kind and handsome and rich, and not want to fuck you. Life is unfair.

$$$

Fukuzawa feels very uncomfortable right now. Because of course his new wife is a beautiful young thing who deserved someone more close to her age, of course she was upset with the plan that had been forced upon her. He most dearly wished he had been born ten years later, so he may woo her properly. He had read the report he was given of her. Miss Name was highly educated, of excellent parentage and absolutely gorgeous. She probably had a young and handsome boyfriend she wanted to marry.

If not for this whole ordeal she could have been with the man she loved, not a stuffy old man like him. It's really no wonder she’s upset. He sends her a small smile, hoping to sooth her probably injured feelings.

“I'm sorry you had to be involved in this mess Miss Name, I know this situation isn't ideal for both of us.” For some reason, her expression doesn't change at all. Her smile is still in place, but Fukuzawa can tell from her eyes that she’s upset. Her voice is curt when she responds.

“Thank you.” The temperature in the room drops a few degrees. He shivers involuntarily as the room falls back to silence, forcefully keeping his eyes away from her legs, covered in pure white lace, and the hint of a garter peeking out from under that small silk bathrobe. She didn't wear those for him for heaven sakes, she didn't even know he was coming tonight. He has no right to fantasize about what she’s wearing under that bathrobe, she may be his wife, but she will never desire him like that.

He clears his throat. “There's something I must tell you, I have an adopted son.” She perks up, the collar of her bathrobe falling a little, revealing a small strip of tantalizing white lace. The room feels too hot. “Really? How old is he?” The cold tone of her voice is melting away and Fukuzawa congratulates himself on the change of topic. “His name is Ranpo and he's five years old. Would you like to see a picture?” She nods, and Fukuzawa pulls out his phone, and shows her the lockscreen. She leans forward, and Fukuwawa is treated to a flash of white bows and lace as she coos at the photo. “He's so cute!”

Fukuzawa wonders if god hates him. Because of course his new wife is a pretty young thing who doesn't mind the fact that he has a son, and is whose collar is falling more and more, treating him to a divine temptation of white lace, and who will never love a boring older man like him. He wonders why the hell he's acting like a young man with these dirty thoughts, and takes a deep breath as she hands his phone back. The ice on her face has melted a bit, and she looks a bit less like she wants to flay him alive, although she still looks a bit sulky. It's much too adorable. Her lips are in a little pout, and it only succeeded in highlighting how plump and silky they look. They have a pink gloss smeared across them, and all Fukuzawa can think about is those lips wrapped around— he almost smacks himself across the face.

Ok so, Fukuzawa can admit that he is very much in lust with his new wife, it's pretty clear and he feels quite like a degenerate, he just hopes she cant tell. It's clear that she doesn't want him, heck she doesn't even seem to like him that much. And he would rather die, than ever force himself on her in any way. He clears his throat with a cough, shifting a little in his seat. “If it would make you more happy, you could have a lover, if that is what you wish.”

Any ice that had defrosted with Ranpo’s picture is immediately incinerated by her burning hot anger. She sits upright, her spine straight and her eyes burning. “Are you implying that I will cheat on you?” Fukuzawa waves his hands anxiously in denial. “No, that's not what i—” The fire abates, then returns in full force. “Wait, do you have a lover?” Fukuzawa shakes his head. ‘No! I only thought that you might have a younger boyfriend you wished to marry instead of me. After all, this decision was made without your input.” Fukuzawa is relieved to see the fire abate, replaced instead with a sweet kind of thanks.

She leans forward a little, a small sincere smile curving across her pretty lips. “I have no one. But it was very kind of you to ask.” She says, as the ties holding the bathrobe come looser and looser. “And even if I had someone, I would never ask for something like that.” Fukuzawa is horrified by the spike of hope that rises in his chest, pillaging through the walls around his heart and stabbing right in, warming his heart with a futile hope. He shakes his head, clearing his thoughts and emotions as she speaks.

“Would you like something to drink? I have some delicious green tea.” He nods, hoping the soothing aroma and taste will calm him down. She stands, and moves to the small kitchenette across from the bed, starting the tea. She speaks as she works. “So, I heard you met my sister Helena? Tall, blond…” Fukuzawa vividly remembers Helena, a tall blond woman who barged into his dinner and in no uncertain terms told him that if he mistreated her sister she would ruin his life. “Yes, she said hello to me at dinner.”

“I hope she didn't bother you, Helena is harmless, I promise.” It's clear how much love she has for her sister, it drips from every word as she chatters on, excitedly telling Fukuzawa story after story of her sister. Fukuzawa hopes dearly that one day, she will speak of him and Ranpo so fondly. His thoughts are imputent, he knows that, but it's in his best interests to not deny them. He's too old for all of this.

“Here you are, Mr. Fukuzawa.” She leans down, placing a fragrant cup of green tea on the table in front of him. “Call me Fukuzawa.” She shoots him a smile and a nod. “Call me Name.” It's small really, but it feels good. The atmosphere has become pleasant, so different from the earlier tense and icy landscape, and Fukuzawa feels relief, until of course, disaster strikes.

She trips slightly, and the glass of green tea she is carrying spills all over her chest, staining the white fabric green. Thankfully it's iced, but she still panics, probably worried about staining. And you see, the thing is, Fukuzawa knows he should turn around, he knows she’s panicking and she forgot herself for a moment, and he knows he should clear his throat or turn around or something. But he still watches in slow motion as she undoes the ties, pulling off that bathrobe and tossing it hurriedly away.

It's somehow straight out of his fantasies, and yet a curse of his nightmares. It's white, and lace and see-through and Fukuzawa feels all the blood in his body rush south. Maybe it's that the slight glimpses were teasing him the entire evening, or maybe he’s just too pent up, but he feels just like a virgin again, discovering porn for the first time. And it kind of is porn, forbidden 3d porn and he's going to die. She looks heavenly, the lace hugging her pretty boobs, the panties hiding nothing at all, and the garter and stocking combo just straight out of any man's wet dream. He feels like a creep, like a gross disgusting perverted old man and he wants her to suffocate him with that pretty pussy all wrapped up in white lace, he wants those pouty lips on his cock, he wants those legs wrapped around his waist while he pounds her into the bed—

His dick is hard, his mouth is open, and then she looks up, meeting his eyes and Fukuzawa feels fear for the first time in a while.

$$$

You know what happened, you were panicking about expensive lingerie and green tea stains and all you wanted to do was get the stain away from the actual underwear as fast as possible. But as your eyes meet Fukuzawa’s own and you take in his state, you can't really say your sorry. He looks wrecked. His eyes are hazy, his mouth open in shock, and the most telling evidence of all is the bulge in his pants. You let a small smirk overtake your face. He wanted you after all. Elation and arousal are the confusing cocktail at work in your stomach as you saunter around the kitchen table, and sit yourself directly on his inviting lap.

This seems to snap him right out of his daze, and he gestures frantically, an apology on his tongue. “I'm so sorry Name, i didn't—” You press a finger to his lips, feeling sexy and confident as you grind down slightly on the rather large bulge in his pants. He lets out a gratifying grunt, as you lean down, running your hands through his soft silver hair. Your voice is a pur when you speak. “You wanna know something?” you know you look devastatingly sexy, and it makes you feel powerful. “I really like you Fukuzawa.” His cheeks flush all cute, and his dick twitches under you. You continue. “And I want you. Do you want me?” His voice is husky, but still slightly formal when he speaks. “Yes. But are you sure you want me?”

You let out a coy little giggle, and grind down again. His little stifled noises are unfairly sexy, you can feel wetness in your panties already.

“I want you so bad hubby. Now kiss me.” With no more words he grants your request.

Fukuzawa kisses just like he looks, gentle and deep, devouring your very soul with his tongue. It makes your pussy throb desperately, and it makes you feel rushed and hot and the whole thing feels somehow even more sexy. Your hands knot in his hair, tangling the strands with your sweaty fingers as you rut together, barely covered pussy on still clothed cock, cores together. You know your whining, letting out little gasps and breaths and as he hoists you up, draping you right across the kitchen table, hands carefully pulling the crotch of your panties away from your drooling pussy. Its so dirty somehow, here you are, about to be fucked senseless by your sexy new husband, right on your kitchen table. You can't wait. He steps back, shedding his coat and tie, and unbuttoning a few of the top buttons.

He looks so sexy above you, panting as he slips a finger into your pussy, stroking your inner walls slowly. “More.” You whine out, the needy tone in your voice embarrassingly clear. Fukuzawa chuckles, adding another finger as per your request. “Do you have condoms? I'm afraid I didn't bring any.” He speeds up his fingers, playing slightly with your clit, and your head falls back. “Don't care. Maybe you can get me pregnant, hubby.” You can tell it affects him by the way his fingers retreat, swiftly replaced by his cock. You moan loudly as he bottoms out, as he hoists your legs over his shoulder, still almost fully clothed. It turns you on greatly, the contrast from your almost naked self, and his composed, still clothed person. His cock is thick, stretching your walls apart and it pulses inside you. You want him to fuck you stupid senseless.

Your hands grip the side of the table as he begins to move, his pace betraying his sense of urgency. Each thrust is deep, hard, and it moves you back on the table, before his hand on your legs pulls you back. His hair is sweat soaked, sticking to his cheeks as he fucks you, his eyes locked on your own.

“Feel good baby?” He pants, his voice a groan. “Yes, ohh so good.” Your voice is loud, and slightly husky with panted moans and breathes. You're seriously going to explode. For the first time in your life you want to thank your father, for finding you a sexy husband who could fuck you crazy. You still hated the man, but he had done some things right in his life.

He's ruining your insides, and you can feel every pulse and twitch of his dick inside you, all berriors gone. You feel unimaginably full and hot and purfect. He stops to lean down, and grips your thighs in both hands, speeding up his thrusts. Your eyes roll back as he hits that spot, over and over and over again.

“Oh Fukuzawa!” He stops his thrusts, pausing deep inside you and you pant. “Yukichi.”

“What?”

“Call me Yukichi.” Your clenches, even as your heart rate speeds up and you gasp out his name, panting it like your last breath. “Yukichi!” The last of your sentence dissolves in a moan as he resumes, all pretense gone, slamming in and out and in and out, and destroying your insides. “You sound so pretty like this, screaming my name.” His voice is rough and full of pants, and so, so sexy. Your hands leave the edge of the table and reach for your breasts, playing with your nipples harshly. You can feel your orgasm building, that familiar heat in the pit of your stomach, begging to be released.

“ ‘m cumming.” You warn, as his thrusts stutter, losing their rhythm. “Me too.” His voice is deep, and as he slams in one more time, and a hot feeling shoots inside of you, you lose it. You know you scream when you come, and at some point he drops your legs and kisses you, his dick still lodged inside of you. And as you come down from your high, and you feel his strong arms carrying you to the bed, you feel hopeful for your future with your sweet new husband, and all the good fuckings that will come with it.

Taglist: @mulit05ho3st4n

#bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bsd smut #fukuzawa x reader #mariannacrxss #helplesslypurple77Kinktober #kinktober 2023 #kinktober

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yayasvalveplay · 26 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/yayasvalveplay/774606354368364544/gonna-drop-this-in-your-inbox-and-run-because?source=share

(Comes back after a night of rest and a good meal to drop more in your inbox for you and whoever to do whatever the hell they want with it. I can make it more dramatic. Add a bit more angst.)

Orion does not go to D for help. D has a schedule he maintains and that includes his... self care, so Orion has no trouble getting those transfluid donations. However, Orion did not account for carrying symptoms. He feels sick after recharge and sometimes even purges. His pedes ache horrendously after each shift. His coworkers aren't worried at first. It's probably some bug Orion caught diving into garbage again or something. But Orion just seems to stay sick. Maybe he should go see the medic?

And for the first time it really clicks for Orion that his actions can have genuine, irreversible consequences for others. This isn't like when D jumps in to help him get out of trouble. As much as D grumbles and complains, D has a choice. He chooses to get involved. The sparkling growing in Orion's tanks though? No choice at all. Orion is 100% responsible for everything that happens to it. He realizes he did not think this through at all. Who ever heard of a miner having a sparkling? Will he even be allowed to keep it? Will he even be allowed to carry it? He starts hiding his purges. Doesn't complain about any aches after shifts. Keeps his head down as much as he can while gathering as much information on sparklings and life outside of Iacon as possible.

---

D is really proud of his friend for finally starting to get his act together. At first. Even though Orion should have more time now that he isn't running off to the archives as much, it feels like they're drifting further apart. Orion just feels more emotionally distant. And not just with him. With everyone.

Physically though? Orion has been very close with everyone. Everyone but him. It came out of nowhere but Orion has been interfacing with almost any miner that looks in his direction, but just once. Orion never sleeps with anyone more than once. And yeah, D could admit he was pissed. And very jealous of those other bots. But then he started getting worried. Orion hid it pretty well from everyone else, but D knew Orion was still getting sick from all the times he woke up in the middle of recharge to no Orion in the berth across from him and barely audible gagging from somewhere further away.

What happened to Orion?

---

The carrying symptoms were kicking Orion's aft. He could handle the aches. He could handle sickness. He could not handle the excess charge running through his frame, the constant prompting from his systems for bonding with his sparklings sire. So when another miner half-heartedly propositioned him expecting to be rejected, Orion actually accepted. Anything to at least get rid of some of the charge. The temporary relief he feels prompts him to keep getting into berth with others, but the fear that any repeats would feel the coming changes to his frame make him only go to each suitor once. Make him not go to any bot that might know him well enough to tell anything was up.

He's so stressed. He's been working so hard to get extra energon cubes squirreled away and everything prepped to hunker down somewhere until his sparkling was born. He feels like crying sometimes and he probably looks it with the looks D's been giving him. Primus, D is stressing himself out over Orion. He hasn't been pumping out as much transfluid which is only stressing Orion out more because he really needs to make a stockpile of it and-!!! Yeah, he's not doing so hot.

It all comes to a head when D just decides enough is enough. It's time to confront Orion and figure out what's going on. Orion's been acting so strange, his eyes look so dim (Orion is at his fucking limit). Orion barely even talks to him or anyone else. He keeps sneaking out and not even to the archives like usual.

D might not have as much sneaking experience as Orion, but it's easy to follow his target when said target is so worn down and out of it. Orion unknowingly leads D to a hidden away alcove. There's a pile of energon cubes, medical supplies, and jars full of... something. D tries to not let his processor wander into the gutter, but it looks like transfluid??? Orion is jamming it all into subspace and cramming what's left into a rucksack. D can't believe what he's seeing.

"Orion, are you leaving?"

Ohohoh the sparkling has multiple sires, but the one true sire is D-16.

Dee should get very suspicious of Orion and find out he's going to leave. The heart break Orion and Dee must feel.

"You Said we'd do this together."

"I know. But I can't be here, not when, not when someone else's life is on the line."

"Who"

"..."

"Orion. WHO!?"

"Your sparkling."

It's enough of a distraction for Orion to leave. He doesn't look back and possibly for more a gst Dee doesn't follow. Because what is a sparkling and why is it his?

Time to pull an Orion

#valveplug #askers au #dpax #mentioned mechpreg #i can't stay here au

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fandomworld9728 · 4 months ago

Text

Radioapple Angst Request! - Part 2:

“Why is it that I always seem to find you on the roof?”

“That’s a secret.” Turning to Alastor with an amused smile, he patted the spot next to him. “Gonna come sit with me this time or call me an idiot and tell me to get to bed again?”

“I suppose I can humor you tonight. But only tonight.”

That one night had turned into many more. They were by far some of the best nights of Alastor’s afterlife.

Evenings after dinner on the roof, sleepless nights spent together in Lucifer’s ridiculously large bed talking about whatever popped into their heads, late nights drinking in Alastor's radio tower…

He was not going to lose those moments just because the little king was being a coward. Now if only Alastor could figure out why. Why did he run away like that?

Perhaps their dear Charlie knows. He’ll have to go and ask her before he goes over to the palace. It was always best to be prepared.

“No, no, no. Why is it flaring up now? Roo… why won't you just leave me in peace?” He could feel it creeping up his neck. The darkness. It was wrapping around his throat and covering his eyes-

“Lucifer!”

“Alastor maybe we shouldn’t-”

“Nonsense. Isolation isn’t good for the mind. Especially one that is spiraling. Much like your father’s.”

Charlie? Alastor? What in the unholy hell were they doing here?! It wasn't safe! He had to leave. Had to get away and keep them safe-

"There you are sire!"

Shit! "S-Stay back! Don't come near me, either of you!"

"Dad? What's going on- what is that blood goop?!"

Time was running out. He couldn't stop it from happening this time. "Alastor. I swear I will tell you everything if you get Charlie out of here. It isn't safe."

"...Very well."

"What? No! Let me stay and help!"

This was it. As soon as Charlie was out of those doors Lucifer would tell him everything. After that, he would leave, and this darkness would most likely swallow him whole forever. Lilith wasn't here to use her song to keep it at bay anymore.

"Alright. I was promised an explanation." Taking a look quickly around the room, Alastor only now noticed what a mess it was.

Not just from dust or clutter like he had expected to find. Furniture was upturned and looked like it had been thrown, and some looked to be smashed into pieces. The walls and floors had claw marks across them. Then, there was Lucifer himself.

"First, you can tell me about those shadows that seem to be trying to devour you."

Lucifer was silent for a moment, compilating the request. He didn't have time for this. But what choice did he have? He said he would explain everything. So, with what time he had left, he would hold up his end of the agreement.

"It's... the darkness. It's Roo. After what I did... letting evil into the world, I went and spoke with Roo. She made a deal with me. The very first demonic deal... she wanted to always be with me and in exchange she would keep the balance between the light and dark in the world. In people's hearts and souls."

What? Did Alastor hear that correctly? Lucifer, who has always hated his demonic form and everything that came with it, especially in the very beginning, made the very first demonic deal in creation to once again save humans? To right what he and Heaven deemed a mistake?

"But... fuck! I can't even do that right!" Pushing his hair out of his face, Lucifer let a bitter, self-loathing laugh slip out. Along with the tears he had so desperately been trying to hide.

"What do you mean?"

"When I'm stressed, or my emotions become too much to handle, I slip. My control wavers! She takes over my body and senses! Roo is able to upset the balance! Lilith... her song helped. Her singing can hypnotize people. It only worked on me for a couple of seconds, but that was enough time for me to regain control."

It felt... good... to talk to someone about this. He could feel the darkness recede. Just a little, but that just meant he had more time. More time with Alastor.

"It's one of the reasons I would isolate myself. Especially... Especially after I had hurt Charlie- Oh god! Lilith was right to take her when she left! I almost killed my little girl!"

"Lucifer! You're spiraling again!" Reaching out to try and get him to stop pulling at his hair, Alastor was surprised and a little hurt when he recoiled. He had never rejected his touch before.

"You can't touch me! She'll infect you or I-I'll hurt you! Please..."

Taking a few deep breaths to try and steady himself, Lucifer continued. As much as he was worried that he would hurt him, it helped to have him here.

"I didn't want to reject your confession. I was just- I'm scared. I can't take another heartbreak. I gave up everything for someone who left. Who got tired of all my baggage. Honestly, I can't blame her. I knew it might happen one day. I just hoped that she wouldn't have kept me from my own daughter, who I carried and gave birth to since she couldn't. And to just pretend I don't exist!"

"Alastor what is going on?!"

It had all happened so fast. Lucifer had transformed right in front of his eyes into a giant Eldrige being, destroying the palace in the process. It was glorious. However, the circumstances were not. Alastor had to fix this. So, he returned to the hotel quickly with a plan.

"Your father is trapped in Roo's darkness. Do not worry, I know what to do."

"And what would that be?"

"That, my dears, is to reassure that foolish king that I have no intentions of leaving. He is forever stuck with me whether he likes it or not."

Charlie and Vaggie exchanged worried glances before looking back at Alastor. "How can we help?"

Lucifer hated this part the most. Floating in a void of darkness. At least he was starting to lose himself enough that the screams of his people were beginning to muffle. If only he had some light...

"Salutations! Dear Sinners, worry no longer. For I am here to tame the beast that is our very own King of Hell."

Huh? Alastor? How could he hear his voice so clearly? Wait. Was that... light? A light was just ahead! If only he could reach it! But... he was tired...

"Once he comes to his senses, Hell can enjoy a royal wedding. Between whom you may ask. Why, dear listeners, Lucifer Morningstar and myself."

A wedding? For him and Alastor? He wanted to... no. He could just be saying that. There was no way. Right?

"Including a soul deal forever binding us together. You will not get rid of me Lucifer. Even if I have to hunt you down and drag you back kicking and screaming."

He couldn't believe it. He had to get free, go to him and apologize. The light was shining brighter as he swam to it. Fighting against the shadows and self-doubt for the first time in a long time that tried to pull him back, Lucifer finally reached it! Reaching out the last little bit of distance to grab it and let it envelop him.

In an instance, the darkness exploded off his body and rushed back inside of him, leaving him to fall from the sky. He was too weak to use his wings to catch himself. He barely registered it, but he could feel warm and sturdy arms catch him. Looking up, Lucifer saw that he was back in the care of Alastor. He was really going to have to make it up to him.

Part 1

#hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fanfiction #radioapple #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel alastor #roo hazbin hotel #hazbin vaggie

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oliversrarebooks · 11 months ago

Text

The Rare Bookseller, Part 44: Alexander's Vain Hope

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tw: conditioning, captivity, blood drinking, toxic possessiveness

September 1925

"So Fitz is visiting soon? Well, now, no wonder you've perked up! And here I thought it was just your new thrall," said Ruth, laughing. "So when is your lover boy arriving, hm?"

Lex groaned. "Please don't call him that. And he'll be here in about a week and a half. He won't be staying long, unfortunately."

"If I don't get to see him, please send Fitz my regards, then," said Ruth. "I remember back when he was your favorite thrall..."

"Mmm." Lex remembered too, all too well. He'd had Fitz as a thrall for such a short time, and as a vampire for so many years now, but in the cold remains of his heart, he still thought of Fitz as human -- warm, delicious, bursting with life.

"Your new thrall is quite an excellent choice, though," said Edith, seemingly noticing Lex's malaise. "Lily was quite right. You needed a decent thrall. This Oliver will be very good for you, I can tell."

"I certainly think so," said Lex, dragging his thoughts back to the present. "That is, if I can protect him from my sire. I'm sure you know how he -- "

"Oh, that's right! I remember what I wanted to discuss with you, Lex," Ruth interrupted. "Remember how you were looking for witches?"

"Yes..."

"I've heard a lot of rumors lately of a vampire hunter new in the city. She's only staked a few vampires, and no one worth mentioning, but she's been raiding thralls from a few of the more established manors." Ruth leaned forward dramatically. "Apparently, this hunter has witch heritage, and has the power to resist a vampire's aura and avoid enthrallment."

Lex's eyes widened. He'd been looking for something like this for years, in the hopes that he could gain the power to defy his sire's power over him and free himself once and for all. But the fact that he'd been looking for so long with little success made him temper his hopes. "Do you believe that? That's what every two-bit vampire says after a narrow brush with death -- that the hunter was a witch, that their enthrallment just didn't work. Nine times out of ten, they're just ashamed of their own weakness."

"What if I told you I heard it from Evelyn? One of her thralls was taken from her servants' quarters a week ago."

"Evelyn? A hunter stole a thrall from Evelyn?" She was one of the oldest and most formidable vampires in the city, almost as old and as feared as Alexander's sire. She most certainly wasn't the type to lose easily to any hunter, or else she'd have been turned to dust long ago. "And Evelyn believes the hunter had witch blood?"

"She said she could smell the witch all over her manor, and that when she used her powers, they had no effect on hunter."

"Witch blood has been incredibly rare in this region for decades now," said Edith. "Are you sure?"

"All I know is what I've heard through the grapevine."

Edith was right, of course. Witch blood was rare in the region because they had all been mercilessly hunted by vampires in the years before Lex was sired. His sire, it was said, was a major part of these hunts, and some of the thralls Lex remembered from his sire's manor in the early days were witches. The smell of magic in their blood was intoxicating, almost impossible to resist, but the one time he'd given into his urges, he'd been starved for months as a punishment.

But their blood quality was not what primarily interested Lex. No, he was interested in the ability, rare even among witches, to defy a vampire's power. If this hunter truly had the secret...

"Lex?" Lily shook him gently. "What are you thinking?"

"Hm?" His thoughts returned to the sitting room, where his guests were looking at him. "Ah, my apologies. I seem to have been rather in my own head."

"When are you not?" said Lily.

He should turn the subject to more cheerful matters -- after all, it wasn't every night he entertained company. "Oh, Ruth, I wanted to ask -- did you look into the matter I wrote you about?"

"Oh, yes, I did!" She rummaged around in her large bag for a moment, pulling out a manila envelope tied with string. "I have some papers you'll find interesting."

"Thank you, I appreciate it. I'll write you a check for the time spent before you go."

Ruth waved him off. "No need. I'm fine with you owing me a favor."

"Very well," said Lex, smiling as he opened the packet and rifled through it.

"Would it be intruding if I asked what this was?" said Edith, leaning in.

"My thrall, Oliver, ran the most charming bookshop before he was taken. I'm taking steps to ensure it transfers into my name once he's formally declared dead." He closed the envelope, satisfied. "In better days, I'd like for him to be able to run his bookshop. It's his passion."

Edith nodded approvingly. "That's very sweet. You're so generous with your thralls."

"I do try. I really do."

----

"You're planning something reckless, aren't you?"

Ruth and Edith had both gone home, but Lily had hung behind to chat with Lex in the library. He already knew why.

"No, not at the moment. But if the rumor is true, if there is a witch who knows the secret to nullifying a vampire's power..."

Lily groaned. "Are you a glutton for punishment? Do you yearn for our sire's dungeons? You know what he'll do to you if you try and fail to kill him. Again."

"So what's the alternative, then?" Lex said, temper flaring. "Never trying? Don't you want to be free?"

"I don't want to see you get tortured just as you're getting back on your feet!" Lily was getting equally heated. "Maybe encouraging you to take Oliver was a mistake. I foolishly thought you had learned your lesson."

"Oh? And what lesson is that?"

"Not to fall in love with thralls!"

Lex nearly choked on his breath, his chest tightening. "I'm not in love with Oliver."

"And yet you're already planning to risk everything for him. I remember the last time you acquired a thrall and immediately started coming up with schemes to kill our sire -- when you fell for Fitz."

"And again I'm going to ask you what you think the alternative is," said Lex, not so subtly dodging that line of thought. "Remaining under the Maestro's whip forever?"

"The alternative is to try and be content with what you have," she said. "You have so much, Lex. You have the manor and the library, you have a perfect thrall, and need I remind you that you have a very handsome and eager vampire lover."

"And that's exactly the reason why I need to kill my sire, because Fitz will never be safe as long as he's alive. And I can't bear to go through the same thing with Oliver, Lily, you know I can't take it."

Lily sighed, relenting. "God damn you, Lex. I know I can't talk you out of this when you get this stubborn. Even if I did, Fitz would talk you right back into it. Neither of you have any sense of self-preservation."

"I'm plenty preserved. I'm 132, and I've spent most of that time locked away in this manor or our sire's, marinating in my feelings like a pickle in a jar, every day the same." Lex looked out of the window at the stars, just barely visible above the glare of gaslights. "I want to live with my own thoughts, and not a dark shadow pulling at them as he pleases. I want to travel. I want to have my precious lover and my precious thrall all to myself without having them yanked away from me at my sire's discretion." He turned back to Lily. "Don't you? Don't you want to be free, too?"

Lily looked so small, less like the confident conditioning expert striding through the halls of the auction house, and more like the terrified but still defiant human she was when she first met Lex. Chained to the wall in the Maestro's manor, feet bleeding from her body being forced to dance, knife and whip marks marring her skin. Somehow, her spirit wasn't broken then. Lex didn't think it was broken now. Not truly. In his experience, anyone who underestimated Lily would be swiftly put in their place.

"You know that I do," she said. "But I also know how this story always ends. That's why I've made my peace."

Lex pushed a hand through his messy hair. "Look, I'll make sure this is all on me. You won't be pulled into this. He'll never know you knew a thing about it."

"Of course he will," said Lily with a sharp laugh. "He always knows."

"I'll be careful," he insisted. "This is all just a rumor anyway, even coming from Evelyn. It's probably nothing. But if it isn't -- if there's really a power I can use to get past our sire's defenses -- I could never forgive myself if I didn't find it. We might never get that kind of opportunity again."

Lily threw up her hands, relenting. "You're right, fine, Lex, you're right. Just don't let all of Oliver's rich blood get to your head. Don't invoke our sire's wrath because you went all soft-hearted over a thrall."

"I'll try not to."

"You won't, but I'm glad you're at least pretending you will." She smiled. "And when Fitz gets here, we'd better all go out on the town together, for old time's sake. Don't forget."

"I won't forget. Consider it a deal."

---

Oliver was bustling about the kitchen, cleaning the dishes and putting the remaining sandwiches in the icebox. Lex couldn't help but watch him silently from the kitchen door. He could smell the delicious blood from there, and after all that socializing, Lex was hungry.

But he didn't want to interrupt Oliver while he was in the middle of something. Besides, it was nice to watch him. Nice to have a thrall in the house once again.

...But Lily was out of line. He wasn't in love with Oliver. He just wanted to protect what was his.

Fitz was probably going to be a tad jealous of him anyway, even though he had nothing to be jealous about. The only solution, naturally, would be to share Oliver with Fitz -- he just knew Fitz was going to love him if he gave him a chance.

Fitz was the only one Lex would willingly share a thrall with, and the thought was so much sweeter than the nightmare of having to share Oliver with his sire. He could just imagine how lovely Oliver would look as Fitz's enthrallment took hold of him, how gorgeous Fitz would look when he was satisfied from feeding.

And Lex's mind supplied him with another fantasy, one that was impossible and wistful. Fitz as he was as a thrall, so warm and so delicious. Lex possessing them both, filling their minds with enthralling song, feeding from them and watching them curl up on the couch with him in a pleasurable daze. The dream long lost, because as much as he loved Fitz as a vampire, he was far superior as a thrall.

His heart's desire, if he still had a heart.

Thrall or vampire, Fitz and Oliver both belonged to him. And he was absolutely sick of his sire violating his rightful companions and possessions.

Lex shook his head. He had to get a grip. His need for blood was driving him too far into his darker impulses. Thankfully, Oliver was finishing up and could very well provide relief.

As Oliver drained the dishwater and dried his hands, Lex came up behind him, loosely pinning him against the sink. "Did you have a nice time tonight, Oliver?"

"Oh, yes, sir," he said, somewhat flustered. "It was very good to talk to other thralls for a while. I hope to get the chance again."

"You will," said Lex, his control slipping now that he was so close to Oliver. Oliver could certainly tell, as his eyes were already starting to go glassy from Lex's aura. Lex nestled into the space between his shoulder and neck and began to sing quietly, a simple song of pleasure and obedience.

"Sir..." Oliver's muscles began to go slack as he relaxed and fell easily under Lex's spell. "Master..."

The mesmerized bliss on Oliver's face was a sight that Lex doubted he would ever tire of. "I wish to feed from you now," he said, moving in closer to the soft skin of his thrall's neck. "Would that be all right?"

"Yes, master," said Oliver. So eager, so willing. "Please, sir, I'd love for you to feed."

Lex wove a promise of protection into his song, hoping to reassure his dear thrall as he sank in his fangs and lapped at the blood.

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@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @sowhumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep @bottlecapreader @whump-on-a-string @whumpinthepot @cinnamoncandycanes @avvail-whumps @tauntedoctopuses @secret-vampkissers-soiree @whatamidoingherehelpme @strawbearydreams

#whump #whump writing #vampire #mind control #blood drinking #rare bookseller #alexander #oliver #lily #edith #ruth

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bharv · 10 months ago

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Feel free to ignore but: do you feel that gortash is - I guess the word I'd use is "good" - at sex? By whatever metric you'd judge that?

Hey anon I LOVE THIS QUESTION and I can't be normal about it!

So I have to dive into it a bit into sections because there's a lot going on here for me and obviously the caveat here is this is my opinion, this is my opinion from inferences from the text, this is my opinion.

So in order to do this we need to cover a few sections: sexual education, sexual agency, sex as tool and sex as desire.

All of this is going under the cut for discussions of childhood abuse, canon inferences, decisions he makes in game, and some headcanons around agency and dub/non-con that readers may find uncomfortable.

so, let's start at the very beginning with:

Sexual Education

There are two things we know about young Enver Flymm. One is that he was raised in a small cobblers workshop where he shared a single room with his parents. The other is that at some point, he was taken to the literal hells where he suffered an incredibly physically abusive situation.

We don't know for sure the exact age he was taken, but I think it's easy to infer that he was prepubescent when he was taken from the way he is spoken about as a snot, a boy etc. by Nubaldin. Even if he was a little older, it's safe to infer that he didn't have a particularly healthy environment to learn about sex and sexuality either at home or in literal hell.

If we assume Enver was in hell, we know that the sex he would have potential been aware of was largely non-consensual. There's references all over the place about his fellow detainee Hope being sexually and physically assaulted as well as psychologically manipulated. We don't know with Enver if he ages in the hells (I assume he does, and that it is only those who sell their souls and end up there after death that do not age) but if he does, he goes from childhood to early adulthood, ten years, in this space (mirrored in Karlach spending ten years there as well, interestingly.)

We also don't actually know how he escaped the hells, and it is a niche headcanon (which I have also put into my works) that he as a young adult learned about sex and traded with Haarlep to find his route out (in my stories, this directly feeds into Mephistopheles being interested in the potential of this boy, and letting him steal the crown.) There's no text basis for this, it just neatly ties up some thematic threads and I think can be put aside and it still doesn't change the core that:

Enver Gortash had no way of having a healthy understanding of sex as a teenager. There isn't really any way that he could have! Either he's living in a one-bed apartment with abusive parents who hate his existence, or he's learning from Raphael's example in literal hell.

Sexual Agency

This is where a lot of people feel differently, but again, we can look at things as they are and then make some inferences.

Enver Gortash does not have a named spouse, or any named mistresses/side pieces/conquests. Anything. There is no evidence of anything (we will come to Durge later.) Compare this to Sarevok, who has two named partners and is inferred to have had others, and it is an interesting choice to have zero ties. It's particularly interesting because as a Lord, he would be expected to be thinking of siring a house, and as a man in power, the narrative expectation would be to find evidence of sex as a benefit of his position. We don't see any evidence of that.

There is a read that many, including me, bring to the fondness that The Dark Urge and Gortash have for each other, but again, there is no evidence that this is sexual or if it is, that it was ever something than a mutual pining. That's the joy of fanworks, you can grow on what's there, but it's not explicit that it's anything more than mutual admiration.

So for me? I think that there is significant evidence that he doesn't prioritise sexual attraction and fulfilment over other areas of reward.

Sex as a Tool

What we do know though is that he has used his body to get things he wants. The Jannath letter, which I love, makes it clear that he had sex with her for financial favours and clout, and that she indulged him in this. He's also more than happy to trade on his image in every way he can. I think it's easy to infer from this that he is, at least in one setting, able to give people what they want out of sex. Whether that means he's technically good OR he's good at constructing and fulfilling the fantasy, I think that's up to interpretation, but I think he knows what to do when it is a performance, and if there's something he can tangibly get out of it like money, power, the ability to blackmail somebody later, then that is the element that is getting him off, not the sex itself. Sex for gain is just another part of his arsenal, to be refined and researched like anything else, and picked up and put down as useful to him.

Sex as Desire

And this is --and it is completely up to interpretation here, I'm just rolling with the other things I see -- where it can potentially all fall apart for Gortash. If he actually likes somebody, if there is a desire or an affection or anything like that, and if he is able to even feel emotions like that, what does he do with them? It's not useful, it's not contained, it's not part of the punishment he learned in the hells or the seduction he learned in the patriars. If he does find himself genuinely fond of another person, how can that fit in his ideas of sex? Personally, I don't think it can do, and there's lots of ways to play with that. In my own stories, the sexual contact he has with Manva is brief, quite one-sided, and quite regressive. He is no charming seducer, but instead taken back to something much simpler that he likely didn't have space for when he was young. He has other encounters where he can't get it up, or can't climax, because the circumstances aren't quite right, the promise of power is not enough, or the partner is too willing (not like he has learned of in the hells at all.)

I think personally that if he does seek out recreational sex, then it is primarily going to be motivated by power play. And I don't think this is well negotiated kink territory. He plays with the player character constantly, testing them, destroying their reputation in the press quest, always vying for more power even when you are apparently allies. This is a man who always, always needs to know he can change the tide.

I think of the woman whose voice was used in the necrotic laboratory, who was stolen away with a promise of a better life. I think of Fariza Linnacker. There's no evidence either were sexual, but we do know that he took great pleasure in manipulating and destroying their lives.

Gortash has so much going on around sex as a tool, as a weapon even, that when it comes to a genuine connection, there's every possibility that he cannot perform at all.

And would that make him embarrassed? Angry? Would he blame? Lash out? Would he seek out professionals to replay old traumas as a "safe space"? Would he avoid all intimacy because he sees it as weak and disgusting? I think there's a lot of scope within this.

So the short version is... I think he's able to be good at sex when it's FOR something. But I don't know if he's even interested when it's not, and if he is, I think he has a long way to go to actively want to seek it out. And is he good in the way that it is connected, intimate? Probably not.

#something something some astarion parallels in there to probably #enver gortash #rotating him around like a rotisserie chicken every day #bg3

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unsiredtribrid · 2 months ago

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I can’t help but think it’s sort of a pattern that tvdu fans prefer the women that are flashier and more pronounced about everything. Like the amount of hype for Caroline and Lizzie exceeds their counterparts and I think it has to do with a mixture of things.

Like in good faith, Caroline and Lizzie have the relatablility to the audience going for them. Caroline always felt like she ‘was never the one’, which is something a lot of people resonated with, and it’s also been made ‘cool’ to dislike Elena for the same reasons people bash Bella Swan. The writers had Caroline be the mouth piece for dunking on or shaming Elena unecessarily a few times, not limited to but including when she threw it in Elena’s face that her humanity had been off before and called Elena a hypocrite for telling her how bad it was despite the fact it actually wasn’t Elena’s choice and it was forced off by a (what should have been traumatic) sire bond to a man who was abusive to both of them. She was also given that ‘zinger’ (lmfao) where she told Elena she had a gift about making everything about herself when Elena was just attempting to tell her how much she would regret this and it would be traumatic, because she cares about her friend, which was completely reasonable. They went out of their way to have Caroline kind of speak for the audience about Elena at times and idk… It did not land for me, but I think people eat it up. Especially since Caroline also garnered a lot of the love interests and people in the tvdu fandom are mainly about shipping.

Lizzie had relatability to people too, firstly because she was a lot like Caroline. There are also a lot of neurodivergent people in fandom who probably appreciated the attempt at representation there despite Julie fumbling it most of the time. I still think there’s a reason why the gen audience can see Lizzie as so multi-dimensional but less so Josie or even sometimes Hope. This gets ‘worse’ the farther you dip into the casual audience. It’s not bad to have favorites and I’m not trying to shame anyone or say they’re wrong, lol, but I just think it’s interesting that it’s always the flashy characters that are loud and pronounced about their feelings and wants that people gravitate to.

Jenny Boyd gives a very campy, exaggerated performance as Lizzie and people enjoy it. Similarly, Katherine was the Petrova that was the most camp and people loved her the most, usually being dismissive of the others. I saw someone say this and it really stuck with me:

ignoring the mis-spelling of Rebekah because they were cooking. I would go even further and say it’s also, like. People want characters to be transparent about their stance and emotions. Lizzie often voiced where she was at, which is why so many people say ‘well at least Lizzie said she didn’t want to hurt anyone and she seemed to feel bad’. But like with Josie, she didn’t say that part out loud and some fans even noticed that Josie didn’t say I love you back to people most of the time. Like Josie is such a repressed character and she struggles with saying what she feels or wants out loud, which people don’t like as much. Sometimes they even assume worse things about her because of that unwillingness to speak on certain things.

Similarly, Caroline wore her heart on her sleeve and was praised by fandom but then when Bonnie didn’t feel like talking (to Elena or others or whatever) the fandom would jump on/disparage her sometimes or act like it was cruel. And then finally, Elena’s personality is much more muted, especially since we’re told at the start of the story that she’s (in Caroline’s words) in her ‘blah phase’ because of depression. People wrote her off pretty quickly as being boring or bland, and characters like Katherine call her dull and imply she’s bland too. This is seemingly in character for Kath to do so it’s not even a problem, but I think the audience took it as like the actual truth and just agreed, lol.

Idk where I’m going with this but I’ve just noticed that the understated or more repressed f characters in tvdu get less love than the flashier more camp ones. Some of this is just simple personal preference but I still wonder sometimes about all the influencing factors

#elena gilbert #josie saltzman #gonna tag anti just in case even though it’s not anti…#anti caroline forbes #anti lizzie saltzman #tvdu #legacies #texts #texts:m #tvdu fandom

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starrieisdelusional · 1 year ago

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when your servant is a little shite

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Then Merlin looks at Gaius, who’s sitting there, eyeing him as if he knows what Merlin is going to do.

‘Merlin, no’

‘Merlin yes’

Merlin tests the limits of Arthur’s patience.

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alternatively, ao3 link

original prompt

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6 (you're here)

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After the thing with Arthur’s crown and the princess, Merlin decides that enough is enough. He already tests his theories out with varying outcomes. There’s no need to further embarrass both Arthur and his own reputation.

He just doesn’t want to drag Arthur with him, he doesn’t really care if people think he’s mental.

It was another feast. Royals sure do love feasts, Merlin thought as he poured the wine into a noble’s goblet. Tonight, they’re celebrating Sir Alexander’s ascension to knighthood.

A bright young lad he is, aspiring to protect Camelot and King Arthur. Merlin likes him already. In fact, Merlin praises the knights. They’re very loyal to Arthur, even following him to death. The knights are the only nobles worthy of their title.

“Lovely night, isn’t it?” Modred said beside him, He takes that back, he forgot this rotten thing is actually a knight.

Merlin immediately scowls, looking at the gremlin up and down. Mordred is probably already planning for Arthur’s next death trap.

"Yes,” Merlin said tightly, shifting away from him. Go away, please go away.

Mordred frowns, his face sad. “Do you still hate me?”

Merlin scoffs, “Why would I hate you?” he said as he aggressively takes Mordred’s goblet and pours him water. Obviously, Merlin is not giving alcohol to a child, but if he turns away for a second, maybe Merlin can–

“Merlin!” The sun of his morning sky himself comes to greet him, enthusiastically putting an arm over his shoulder.

“Is that for me?” He asks, taking the goblet from Merlin, Damnit, now he can’t poison the drink!

“That was Modred’s sire.” Maybe if he can get it out of Arthur’s grasp…

“‘Tis mine now! Sorry Mordred” Modred nods, pretending to be the good boy he is. Damn it, poison is out of the window then. Hmm, maybe if Merlin can somehow create a mass hysteria right now, then he can kill him.

Merlin stares at Arthur’s sexy throat, swallowing water like a sexy person. He feels warmth radiating from the arm draping over him.

Nah, not worth it.

“Go join the other knights, boy,” Arthur told him from his sexy lips.

"Okay,” Mordred said, joining the rest of the knights.

“So Arthur, you-OW!” Merlin cried when Arthur smacked him.

“You know, Merlin, your hostility for that boy is really getting abnormal,” Arthur said, gesturing to his empty goblet.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Merlin said, pouring wine this time. Arthur sighs.

“Merlin, Mordred is a good boy; can’t you see how sweet he is?” Arthur directed his hand towards Modred and the knights, who were gaping over Percival’s muscly arm. But all Merlin saw was Mordred’s vile smirk and evil face, trying to craft a plan for Arthur’s demise.

“He’s clearly evil, sire. Look at his face!” Merlin gestures towards Mordred’s chubby features.

“You’re delusional”

“Am not!”

So Arthur and Merlin spend the next 10 minutes arguing about Modred’s chubby cheeks and how he’s secretly sorting out an evil plan behind that sweet smile. But then he saw it—the dagger coming at Arthur’s face. Behind him, the same mother from that trial a few days ago, Merlin, was sure she was executed, but she looks alive and well.

Merlin would move himself in front of Arthur. He really would, and he wouldn’t hesitate to shield him even if the dagger might pierce his heart. But he had no time, the blade was already an inch from Arthur’s face, one more second, it would be stuck to his head. Merlin’s heart beats frantically, he has no choice.

Focusing his energy on the dagger, he stopped it right as it touched Arthur’s head. He immediately turns the knife and redirects it to stab the woman at the end of the hall.

She cries painfully, her hand clutching her stomach. And then she falls, blood running from her body. The court is silent, saved for Merlin’s harsh breath.

He knows now, Arthur knows.

He slowly looks at him, frightened of what he will see. Arthur is staring, particularly at his eyes. Merlin presses the ring that was on his finger.

Please don’t hate me, please don’t hate me, please–

“Magic is legal now." he meant to declare it to the court, but he ended up saying it to Merlin instead. The court was silent, it was Merlin instead who questioned him, “What...”

“Magic is legal now." Arthur repeats, staring at his eyes. Merlin shakes his head. “You can’t mean that; you’re supposed to hate me; magic is evil; it’s—”

“I mean it!” He shouts, silencing him. And he goes to grab Merlin’s hand, the one with the ring, raising it so the court can see.

“You see this?” He asks, pointing to the ring on Merlin’s hand, “This man has already become a part of Camelot’s royal house; he saves my life more than I can count, but most importantly, he always puts Camelot before himself; he stays as my servant even if magic is illegal. Believe me when I say we won’t stand if he’s not here.”

He said, before looking fondly at him, “We owe a great debt to you."

And then Arthur turns to address the court “I will write a decree tomorrow. Are there any objections?” He asks, and Gwaine starts very slowly, "Um, is it just me, or it’s very obvious that Merlin had magic since, like, I don’t know, before Uther?”

“I thought I was the only one.”

“Me too”

“No way”

"Wait, what do you mean? This is old news? this is new to me!”

And the court is now competing over which person discovers Merlin’s magic in the first place, which becomes very funny as the discussion gets more complex. Merlin looks at Gaius and Lancelot, who just shrugs. Merlin is perplexed.

“Wait..so you all knew that I–”

“I did say, Merlin, that you can’t keep a secret, even if your life depends on it.” Arthur cuts him off while Merlin is reeling over the fact that even Arthur knew.

…

ARTHUR KNEW HE HAD MAGIC!?

Arthur then smiles at the court and says, "Well, then continue on while me and my not-so-magical manservant—" Arthur held his hand tightens when he said that, which means that Merlin is in very serious trouble. “Clean this corpse from the room! Let’s go, wizard! Been dying to use that one." Arthur drags Merlin to the corpse, and they both carry her out of the hall.

Once they were far enough, when Merlin’s brain stopped short-circuiting, he started to chuckles at the absurdity of the situation. "Well, that was a—“ he starts, but is caught off guard when Arthur roughly pins him to the wall, trapping him under him.

“Arthur what--“

“Do you realize how dangerous that was?” Arthur spoke, grip tightening on Merlin’s jacket, “I had enough of you, trying to make a fool of yourself to the royal court; you think I didn’t notice, didn’t you? Your silly stunts of sitting at the throne and the time you sat at the table, and—wait, you’re doing this on purpose!” he realizes, shouting accusingly at Merlin.

"No,” Merlin said, avoiding Arthur’s eyes.

So he had noticed.

"Oh, stop lying, Merlin, you can’t even lie about your magic.”

“Well okay only some of them, the rest is because of the situation” he sighs, wiggling under his grip. When Arthur made no indication to move, Merlin finally voices the tiny thought that had been echoing in his heart.

“So you don’t hate me?” Merlin asks, not looking at him. Arthur had the right to look offended.

“Hate you?? Of course not! Why would I? No! Merlin! I’m mad at you!” Arthur said, pushing him further. “What if the court didn't agree with me back there?! What if they didn’t know about your magic?? What if they think that a king-servant relationship is not normal like my father? What then?? What if they separated me from you?!” Arthur asks frantically, and it finally clicks—all the things that Arthur did for him.

"Oh,” Merlin said, “I thought,“ and Arthur kissed him hard, awkwardly, their teeth clanking. And Merlin melts into it. Finally, he thinks, as he puts his hand on his hair, finally he gets to kiss him. And then they pull away from each other.

“Are we good?” Merlin asks

"Yeah,” Arthur said, before kissing Merlin again.

#bbc merlin #merlin bbc #merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin emrys #arthur bbc #merthur #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #merthur fanfic #merthur fic #merlin fic #merlin fanfic

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coffeefiction · 4 months ago

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Changing the Story for Once Part 1 of Chapter 1

This is a royalty/isakai au I made a while back. I was inspired by the story called "Action" by Let's try some writing and a story called " Optimus Prime is destined to die" by Chuzillla.

And I decided, huh, you know what, why not? I have also posted this in Ao3 but this one is the revise version, I'm revising the story ever so slowly.

And I really wanna share it here but I was debating of it's a good idea you know.

Anyway,here's the summary; Orion Pax is a university student who ended up in one of his all time favorite novel. He has no idea how he ended up here, chaos ensues.

English is not my first language, so it's a mess.

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Admist the glow of flickering screens and scattered datapads, Orion Pax was but an interesting figure, lost in the labyrinth of his own solitude. He was your typical university student who's faceplate is always buried in datapads after datapads, all day long. The epitome of a university hermit. His family tree resembled a barren wasteland, and his social life? Well, let's just say it made a hermit crab look like a party animal.

He didn't have anyone aside for himself, he grew up with no sire nor carrier and he was just alone in life. He took odd jobs here and there to help him live and see another cycle. With no sire nor carrier to guide him, he wandered the corridors of life all by himself.

Despite such depressing situation, he always find solace on the novels he has accumulated throughout the years— one of which was his all time favorite, it was a story lace with tragedy of a fallen ruler who governed his kingdom with an iron fist, who used to carry the same name as he currently bore— a cruel irony he often found comfort in. He loved the story despite it's tragic and bittersweet end. It was the very first novel he had brought when his first paycheck arrived after grueling hours of being in one of his very odd jobs —the kind that left you questioning your life choices.

Extra credits is extra credits, he cant say no to that.

The novel was called “For Once” and it was a very underrated masterpiece. One which Orion would talk about whenever he gets the chance, which he normally doesn’t so he opted to simply reread the darn thing over and over again to a point where he semi-memorize the entire plot. He had been reading it before he went into recharge, to try and distract him from the thesis paper he needed to write. The story was dark to say the least, but Orion was fascinated and again, it was the very first novel he had brought with his first paycheck.

He had joke to himself, about how his namesake was a terrifying mech, even slightly wished to have his confidence to avoid that glitched-arf mech that keeps tripping him down the mess hall. But then again, Orion Pax has a lot of problems that are far more important than that, not only he has a very barren social life but his student debt was astronomical.

He had already calculated it— at the rate he is going, his great-great-grandchildren might still be paying off his tuition fee— Primus, he really fragging hates the Iacon Academy, it’s a good academy, don’t get him wrong but damn it— it’s filled with assholes. Another problem he has is his alarm clock being broken, and nothing else screamed ‘university life’ like missing your 8:30 lecture on the west hall because the universe seems to just hate you so much.

But fate, seem to have a twisted sense of humor.

__________________________

Orion Pax awoke, blinking groggily, he rubbed his optics, half-expecting to find himself back in his cramped dorm room, tangled in his recharge cables with datapads scattered across the floor, and energon caffeine cans across his table from the nights he spend cramming for one impossible test. But as he looked around, he realized that this was in fact not his dorm— he was in a lavish chamber, surrounded by opulent furnishings.

This wasn’t his very tiny space filled with his own mess— no, this place was…..way to fragging shinny. The walls were polished and they glistened under the lunars light.

“This isn’t my dorm…..” Orion grumbled, rubbing his optics while yawning. He’s hoping that this is just another study-induced nightmare that he seems to get once every cycle. He sighs and sketches the mingling ache in his frame— he stands up and walked to the mirror, expecting to see his humble blue-and-red-slightly slender armored frame. What he saw was far from humble. He’s colors are still there, albeit less brighter than usual, he was decked out in a massive, bulky armor, which seems to have been polished.

His chestplate alone looked like it could stop a whole ass armada—Primus, it probably had . And his servos? They look like they could crash a datapad in one squeeze! (Not that he hasn’t done it before, accidentally…while studying..but still!).

This is not his body. “Primus…..By Primus fragging servo that slapped Unicron, what am I wearing!??” he yelped, backing away from the mirror like it had burned him. And by the matriarchs servos, why does his voice sound like that?! He stared at the reflection, his optics widening as the reflection glared back.

What he was seeing wasn’t Orion Slagging Pax staring back at him. It was Optimus Slagging Prime….

“Oh no….oh no no no no no no! This—This cannot be happening! I’m-I’m dreaming! Oh Primus, please let this be a whole dream!!” His once semi-slender frame is now bulked with power and authority. It screams control and domination compare to his other one—which if you altered it to the side, he could be considered a femme by a very drunken mech!

And he had been considered as a femme once by a drunken mech!

Panic immediately seized him, his mind reeling with disbelief as he backed away, stumbling to the berth he layed. Orion Pax is known to be very calm and can work well being under pressure, he had done it several times!

But at that current moment— he momentarily lost this capability. With a barely functioning processor, he covers his mouth with his servo—

And screamed.

A very panic yet muffled scream.

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thekatebridgerton · 2 years ago

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Today on another episode of aus I'm too sleep deprived to write here's some Bridgerton Vampire au

Kanthony: Anthony as the literal king of vampires masquerading as a Viscount with his family and Kate as the Vampire hunter who trained for ages to take him down. They have come to blows over the years and while Kate has managed to send him into hiding a time or two, she’s never actually landed the killing blow even when she once had the opportunity, which made Anthony realize that as much as Kate wants to kill him, she doesn’t have it in her. Not that Anthony is any different, at first when he was younger, yes he very much wanted to kill the newbie Vampire hunter that was houding his steps everywhere, but as he rose in the ranks and Kate herself became the leader of London’s most feared Vampire hunting organization, they grew to respect each other. To the point of almost working together to target Vampires that go rogue. But Anthony’s tenous truce with Kate is broken, when he finds out that Kate has done the unthinkable: She’s decided to retire and get married to her long time partner, Thomas Dorset. That’s what sets Anthony off on a rampage London has never heard of.

Polin: Colin has known little Penelope all her life, they've been friends since she was small and Altough he always knew she had a small crush on him, because he's a vampire and she a human he never expected it to go very far. That is at least until his sister Eloise, makes a mistake that almost kills Penelope and begs Colin to save her friend. And so Colin, very much against his will turns Penelope into a vampire. He thought Penelope would have a hard time adjusting but on the contrary, his little sireling takes to vampirism very well. Too well. Turns out being a vampire is perfect for the woman behind Lady Whistledown. Penelope finally feels free in ways she never thought before, being herself without restraint, she feels strong and powerful and violent Not just for blood but also for Colin. Sometimes she swears she can feel his hunger from across the room. And from the moment she woke up she's never seen Colin so possessive of her. But the more Colin gets to know who Penelope really is behind the mask of civility, the more he's drawn to her. He wants to protect her, feed her, devour her. Could this be a side effect of being her maker or something of a darker nature? And will Penelope understand exactly what it means to be sired to Colin Bridgerton

Benophie: Benedict Bridgerton has never forgotten the lady in silver who saved him from a rogue vampire hunter during a masquerade ball years ago. And Years later in an effort to pay it forward he saves a kind young woman from assault by killing her attackers. Only to be faced with the most delicious smelling blood he's ever scented on a human.

Sophie Beckett always knew her half gypsy blood was a magnet for trouble, but when the Vampire who saved her life offers protection in exchange for keeping his secret, she has no choice but to accept. On the condition that she won't give Benedict her blood in payment, no matter how much he pleads for it. Sophie watched her mother become a vampire's blood mistress as a child and she swore she'd rather endure Araminta's abuse than become a plaything for Vampires too. And while Benedict accepts her decision, it doesn't mean he's not constantly temping her to give in. She won't let him use her! No matter how much she's growing to love him.

Benedict has self control, he's only second to Anthony in age and he's never gone on a rampage before. But Sophie's scent is a trial to his goodwill. Every day it gets harder and harder to stay away from her sunny presence. Because she's kind and good and even without her blood her smile could feed him for days. How can he let Sophie have a normal human life when all he wants is to drink her blood and make her his. Just as much as he wants to make her happy. For Benedict, Sophie is the sun and he's the vampire who is fated for a world of shadows, unless she's with him

Philoise: Phillip Crane is an old vampire, too old really. Who swore to protect his family from beyond the grave as long as they kept his secret. So when Lady Marina died seven years after giving birth, leaving the family's very old and reclusive vampire in charge of the last two heirs of the Crane bloodline Phillip knew he needed help. Which is why he wrote to Colin and begged him to send someone with good self control. Sadly Colin was more interested in getting rid of his sister than in helping Phillip because the next thing he knew, the prettiest vampire princess he'd ever seen was knocking at his door and eating his kid's nursemaid. Eloise Bridgerton was a sight to behold in her self righteous glory, not only was she confident and vibrant and alive, but she also made him want to stop being a recluse and become part of a family again. Eloise Bridgerton could tell Phillip was deathly afraid of accidentally hurting the little human children who believe him their father. And truthfully she'd never met a vampire as big and intimidating as he was but, for all his age, Phillip seemed remarkably shy around her, which only made her want to tease him more. Colin had merely asked her to bring Phillip to London so he could be with their kind while he raised the children, but Eloise found that she didn't want to share him with the world. He was too trusting and too soft, she needed to protect him from danger.. maybe this is what Benedict meant when he talked about falling inlove. Eloise was halfway there already

An: like it?

#bridgerton #vampire au #polin #kanthony #benophie #Philoise #anthony bridgerton #eloise bridgerton #kate sharma #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #penelope featherington #colin bridgerton

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