#Dion was well received

[altocat]

There is no hetero explanation for the way Sephi talks and looks at cloud

Square is tripling down on Sephiroth's evil gay crush on Cloud and I am HERE for it.

[torgawl]

i am so emotional with harpocrates and dion's side quest. harpocrates who blames himself for not have offered dion his friendship and support besides the knowledge he shared with him when he was once his tutor. dion who feels so incredibly guilty for having destroyed his nation, what he held the most deer, who feels deeply ashamed and scared of what the person that inspired him all those years ago might think of him and his character after his deeds. harpocrates who doesn't blame him for another's ill intent but recognizes the anguish the prince battles with everyday and who wants to atone for his sense of personal failure towards him by gifting him the flower that represents his nation and making him know he isn't defined by his roots, that he is proud of the man the prince became. dion who is so thankful for the role the loresman had in his life but doesn't feel worthy of receiving the symbol of his people before fullfiling the duty he believes he has, si he defers the flower until after he bids his life against the one who ruined his nation to atone for the crimes he committed. harpocrates who plans cultivate wyvern tails for dion's return and bids farewell with an obvious sadness in his voice. dion who's reparation of his wrongdoings has been looking a bit too much like a forever depart...

[beliscary]

bahamut/terence/dion but like in a yue/toya/yukito way

[flarunie]

I’ve come across a few headcanons from others about Optimus being able to see the multiverse and his other variants through the Matrix. They suggested that he could seek out each other’s wisdom and guidance. But what about TFA Optimus, since he doesn’t have one?

———-

Once again, welcome to this corner of my mind, where I make stuff up (sorry if it’s a bit cringe):

It starts with the episode where Optimus is revived by Sari's key. Somehow, some magical nonsense happens, and Optimus begins receiving visions at random times after his extensive contact with the All Spark’s energy, combined with his connection to other versions of himself across the multiverse.

The visions themselves are often erratic, without the help of the actual Matrix providing guidance. Some are nice and helpful, while others are terrifying and confusing. At first, Optimus gets Ratchet to check on him, so Ratchet is the first to know about it. Next, Prowl, with his ninja skills and perception, eventually learns as well. Both of them quickly draw a connection between Optimus’s strange dreams and Sari’s key.

Eventually, Optimus gains some control over his visions through meditation. I think the things he sees often have a negative impact on his psyche, as he witnesses so many different versions of himself leading the Autobots or being robot Jesus with countless deaths on his hands, along with a long list of war crimes, etc. (Plus, the messy divorce between him and Megatron.)

Other bounus including increas in battle experinece

Another thing Optimus discovers is that he learns many things which may or may not be relevant, or perhaps things that somehow remain the same in his universe. He tests it out a few times, and the results vary

———-

Optimus: "Hey, Dion."

Ultra Magnus: "How did you know that name?"

——-

Optimus: "So, Megatron, do you still write poetry?"

Megatron (amused): "No, my little Autobot, but I still kept some if you’d like."

Black Arachnia (who understand the Autobot propaganda well enough to know that no way would Optimus know about Megatron's literature work ): 👀

[ne-videl]

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔤

♡

yandere Dion Agriche x fairy fem reader

he will gladly go even to his own death if you'll order him to.

sub yandere, unhealthy relationship, a little bit of Cassis x reader, mentions of violence, reader and Dion have master/pet relationships, also reader is referred to as "sister" a few times so pseudo incest I guess, sfw but a bit suggestive, everybody likes you!! poor english

word count: ~2k

a/n: there I am again drooling over fictional men. so here's my favorite yandere trope!! for if your psychopath doesn't worship you it's not your psychopath ©

honestly when I was reading this manhwa for the first time and saw dion I was like "damn I want this man on his knees 🤨🤨", so here you are. eat.

"you're a dog, Dion." – not-Roxanne lifts the corners of her lips in a slight smile, while her neat fingers run through his shaggy hair.

"your dog," – Dion adds mentally.

you feel the touch of his dry lips on your bare foot.

sitting like this, kneeling in front of you, seems right – it can't be any other way, and it won't be.

"may I?" – after receiving tacit approval, he leans closer, his hand stroking your bare thigh.

you smell like flowers: maids must have added rose oil to the water, and this smell digs into his lungs, making him roll his eyes in ecstasy.

just from this, from the fact that you are so close, he could just reach his hand out and feel you.

your body is cold – devoid of any human warmth, burning his skin with the cold of it's touch. your eyes look with a non malicious mockery: how a person looks at their beloved pet. with kind condescension.

you lean in, and Dion feels a kiss at the top of his head. scent of roses hits his nose, almost suffocating, and it feels like his mind is about to give up. well, if he dies right here, he won't regret a bit.

crimson flush on his cheeks almost burns his skin.

____*:･ﾟ✧

"hello. my name is ███████. do you mind playing with me, brother?"

he turns around at the girly voice behind him – distracting himself from the dead bird – and he is met by the look of your laughing eyes.

not red ones.

his sister tucks a lock of her hair behind her little ear and sits down next to him, waiting for an answer.

shouldn't she be blonde like Roxanne?

who is Roxanne?

"okay." – Deon catches his sister's smile and for some reason wants to smile too. she talks about a cute teddy bear that her father gave her, about how she likes to drink tea under the summer sun, and that she probably likes him too.

he had once seen in a book: in the old fairy tales that mothers read to their children, it was said that fairies could replace a human child with their own.

none of Agriche's children believed in fairy tales, but it seems appropriate for his "sister" – you, not-Roxanne, must be a fairy. a lovely creature with transparent wings and a honey voice.

he doesn't mind. whatever calls itself his sister, Deon thinks he really, really likes it.

____*:･ﾟ✧

if he's not on a mission, Deon is always by your side.

"what are you doing here? can't you see sister is with me now?" – Jeremy mumbled indignantly, but you only laughed softly, covering your lips with a neat palm.

a beautiful silver ring glitters on the sixth finger of the "sister".

their father also adores you – maybe it's natural for fairies to charm everyone around them – from members of their so-called "family" to the maids and even the hounds of the estate.

maybe he's a hound himself in her eyes. it didn't matter, as long as he could be with his "sister" – or at least with the creature that pretended to be her.

it was undoubtedly a pleasure to belong to you.

Deon drapes a white fur coat over your shoulders: you often went out into the garden in light clothes, as if the winter cold did not bother you at all. your hair falls over the fur collar, and you smile at him, giggling about how quietly he walks, and chirping about something else. you were fond of chatting, and it was often very difficult to stop listening to you. he, however, usually spoke rarely and little, accompanying you, his mistress, like a silent shadow.

you're spending too much time in the company of a Pedelian pup – an unacceptably long time – so that his eye begins to twitch with anger.

isn't he enough? why would you need this toy if he is always at your feet, your faithful dog, a hound, ready to do whatever you want without a trace of doubt and regret?

Dion wished you'd let him kill Cassis.

"may I ask you a question?" – you turn at the sound of his voice. surrounded by a winter garden, you look even more beautiful, pitch black against dead-white snow. perfection.

"of course, ask. what is it?" – "sister" raises an eyebrow a little stiffly, not naturally, just a little bit.

"do you like him more? I dare not doubt you, and you should not doubt my loyalty, but still-" – his scarlet eyes narrow slightly – "but still, do you like him more?"

if you answer yes, he will go and kill the eldest of the Pedelian offspring on the spot. this is Deon's place. and the hell he's going to let someone else take it.

"of course not, silly." – you laughed – "didn't we discuss this earlier? toys are toys, but you were and will remain my favorite."

right. that's how it should be. why did he even doubt it?

"favorite." – mentally repeats after you while your six-fingered palm rests on his head: you had a habit to pet him like a puppy.

"favorite." – gaze of crimson eyes trembles, invariably riveted to you, and Dion struggles with the desire to grab the object of his sick adoration in his arms, hug you, to feel the cold of your inhuman body at least through clothes. your smell is dope, your touch is opium, your eyes are an abyss, mesmerizing with the horror of its cold depths.

but he can't. you didn't allowed it yet.

and he, as befits a well-trained hound, will obediently wait for your permission.

____*:･ﾟ✧

"███████. that's not your real name, is it? what are you?" – Cassis looks at you expectantly.

you tilt your head to the side, picturesquely rounding your eyes and raising your neat eyebrows.

theatrically. not natural.

"what are you talking about? I am me. who else do you think I can be? stop asking stupid questions, darling." – you answer with a mocking smile. like he's saying something ridiculous.

"are you kidding me? you have six fingers! why doesn't anyone else notice this? besides, you look different, not at all like-" – Cassis cuts himself off in mid-sentence.

like who?

"you know, forget it... it's like I haven't been myself lately. you know, with all this kidnapping, and even your brother..." – he shakes his head nervously under your laughing gaze.

something inside told him that if he kept asking questions now, it won't end well. and anyway, why would he do that? after all, it's not polite to interrogate his benefactress.

everything is fine.

"the less you know the better you sleep, my dear. why don't we just proceed as planned? and how many fingers I have is none of your business." – you look appraisingly, as an already well-fed snake looks at a mouse.

eat or not?

"if I were you, I'd be more worried about the success of your future escape, and for that matter, about my dear brother. you see, Dion has been wanting to twist your neck for a long time." – mention of the red-eyed man makes Cassis tense up.

when you see his reaction, you giggle like you just said the funniest joke in the world.

"come on. I was joking. Dion won't hurt you unless I tell him to. he's a good boy."

when he thinks about it, you, the elder Agriche, had a lot in common with the poisonous butterflies you adored so much. in the sense that Cassis often got the impression that you wanted to devour him. at least it wasn't hard to imagine transparent wings behind your back.

____*:･ﾟ✧

gatherings with your father always ended well after midnight – invariably over cigars and wine, in his office full of acrid tobacco smoke.

it was no secret who will become the next head of Agriche: Lante never hid his paradoxical favoritism. with you alone he had the relationship that most closely resembles the relationship of a parent to a child.

"in general, everything is going as it should. don't forget to dress up for the next dinner party: I've already called the designers." – Lante exhaled a cloud of smoke, smiling cheekily: alcohol was doing its job.

"as you wish. Is Dion doing good at his job?" – you answered with a relaxed face: wine, as well as many other "human" things, had no effect on you.

"you ask as if you don't know. you raised him well." – you slightly unnaturally round your eyes in surprise – "only a fool here does not know that the only person to whom my son is truly faithful is you. I don't know how you did it, but these mind games of yours seem to have had the desired effect. of course, you're my daughter! you're more like a dog with a mistress, not a brother and sister."

Lante bursts into a deep laugh, and his "daughter" does not deny herself a satisfied grin.

a dog and his mistress, huh?

heavy doors of the head's office closed behind your fragile – at least visually –figure.

you are greeted by the night chill of the deserted corridor of the estate and your dog waiting in the distance.

"hi, Dion. already returned?" – he just nods silently in response, coming closer to you and offering his hand.

my-my, just came from a mission in the middle of the night and immediately rushed to you. how obedient.

"did you hear it?" – you tilt your head to the side with a sly grin.

"I did. while I was waiting for you." – he doesn't say anything about Lante's comment. doesn't deny it.

indeed, you raised him well. no trace of pride was left.

Dion in your hands – a faithful puppy, readily following any of your instructions. even if you'll send him right to his death, he will return, only bowing his head in anticipation of praise and the touch of your cold hands.

and you, like a good master, praise, and stroke, and kiss. after all, if there is a stick, there must be a carrot.

____*:･ﾟ✧

"here we will part, my dear friend. we have already discussed your plan of action, so I see no point in repeating myself. go to freedom, but quickly: we, you know, deal with riots quickly."

"wait, listen, please. can you at least answer me before I leave? what are you, really? I always have the feeling that you're not who you seem. I mean... no, I like you, I really like you, it's just-" – Cassis cuts himself off, realizing that he blurted out too much.

he's all flushed, confused in words, and you're just looking at him with your unnerving eyes and smiling.

watching. and aren't blinking.

"God, no matter how much years I'm carrying on my shoulders, it's the first time I've met such a curious human." – you purse your scarlet lips, thinking about the answer – "don't worry, "she" is now where she will be better. and as for your question, dear, you can consider that I'm just a bystander. yes, let's think so. so stop talking and run, okay?"

"and you? will you be okay?" – you raised your eyebrow: still unnatural, however, he's already used to it.

exit from the estate is already very close, just a stone's throw away, and Cassis is hesitating. desperately grabbing your wrist, looking with shining yellow eyes into your laughing, soulless ones.

tch.

"what, you want to stay my toy forever? you know, I'm an Agriche too, and I might change my mind about letting you go if you keep looking at me like a beaten puppy." – realizing that your quip was not accepted by the "audience", you rolled your eyes, but then broke into your too perfect smile again.

"don't worry. I can't be killed in a way that matters."– a six-fingered palm rests on the top of his head, and your face stretches into a grin, not human, too wide for a human.

but he's not scared. he wants to watch more – it's impossible to look away, even if his instinct for self-preservation screams that he needs to get out of here as soon as possible.

the abyss, as it turned out, can really look back, and it is beautiful in its terrifying appearance.

is this how Deon feels every time he looks at something that calls itself his sister?

"well, let's never meet again, my friend." – and Cassis leaves, leaves without turning around, because he understands that if he turns around, he will never be able to leave this nightmarish estate. he won't want to.

you hesitate a little, watching him with unblinking eyes, and with a sense of accomplishment you turn back.

your face rests against a man's chest. familiar scent of ash and blood hits your sensitive nose.

"and you're still walking silently." – Dion drapes his coat over your bare shoulders. a gloved hand lingers on your skin a little longer than it should.

"it's cold in the dungeons. you should have dressed warmer." – you laughed a little.

he knows perfectly well that you don't feel the cold, but he does this every time anyway.

"and what, you won't even ask anything? aren't you curious why I let the Pedelian offspring go?" – your six–fingered hand is holding his elbow as you wind through the dark and cold corridors.

"I will not question your methods. but was it wise to talk about your secret, even in this way? doesn't he know too much now?" – it's not difficult to understand what he's hinting at: in his opinion, you should've get rid of Cassis. athough never said out loud, your "brother's" dislike of your toy was ridiculously strong.

ah, men's jealousy!

"let him think what he wants. there are no big conclusions to be drawn from what I said anyway." – you tilt your head to the side, your eyes lazily scan the walls of the dungeon. he just nods and continues to walk beside you in silence.

Dion never asked too much, never doubted any of your actions, never poked his nose where it should not be. you certainly raised him well. no, even exceeded your own expectations.

what a good boy.

mom yelled at me for almost a hour and I wanna curl up and die 🤩

thanks for reading!!

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead’s Sister-in-Law!

Story Masterlist

Chapter 6

‘Slight’ Yandere! Dion Agriche x Fem! Reader

Arranged marriage AU

Warnings: implied possessive and obsessive themes/actions/behaviors/thoughts, reader is one second away from having a panic attack, indirect mention of death, mention of murder, implied toxic family/child abuse, very, very light choking, mention/possible stalking, Toxic marriage/relationship, Reader is so done mentally despite only living in the Argece mansion for one (1) day, Reader becomes sassy, jealousy, everyone ooc

NSFW warnings: Very suggestive, throw back to their first time, implied dacryphilia

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THE HARMFUL AND/OR DANGEROUS ACTIONS AND/OR BEHAVIORS THAT MAY TAKE PLACE IN THIS PIECE OF FICTION. THESE ACTIONS/BEHAVIORS SHOULD NOT BE NORMALIZED NOR ROMANTICIZED AS THEY ARE THEY ARE BOTH ARE  EXTREMELY TOXIC AND DANGEROUS 

MINORS/BLANK BLOGS/BLOGS THAT DON’T INTERACT/REBLOG WITH FANDOM STUFF DNI AND PLEASE DO NOT SPAM LIKE MY POSTS

= = =

“You never once referred to Dion as your husband.” 

“P-pardon?” 

That caught you off guard. Frankly speaking, calling the man your husband aloud is stomach-turning. Not that you would admit that, or rather not that you could. The punishment you would receive from Lant if it were to ever reach his ears…

 “Well, we haven’t been married for even a week.” Carefully explaining yourself, you scan behind her to check if anyone was there. “So, I am still a bit shy about it.” You smile shyly. Blood rushes through your veins and you can hear the thundering pumping and feel it. 

Your blood becomes ice and skin slime as Roxana observes your behavior and reaction before making a move. Fresh coral lips tug into a soft smile as Roxana sees past your lie and stares into your soul. Her eyes remind you of your husband’s; glowing scarlet that curtains their true emotions and thoughts. 

Sinister or otherwise, you’re afraid to drown in them. 

“I see. That’s adorable.” She reminds you of a venus fly trap; inviting only to trap you. Even so, her ‘affection’ towards you nearly has you tripping on your feet. No. This is how she gets people.

“Lady Roxana, I had a fun time speaking with you.” You halfheartedly bid her farewell, bowing. You plan on walking the moment you raise your head. What you don’t plan on doing, however, is returning to your chambers immediately. 

Ah, but… where would you even go? 

“Oh, right. Do you remember the way?” She blinks at you while you blink back. Your mind is a void - absolutely nothing in it. Next, she laughs. 

It sounds like bells on Christmas, a chorus in the church, that exciting and relieved feeling you get once you hear ‘shift’s over,’ from the managers. Head full of cotton, you allow yourself to simply enjoy this moment. Once the blissful laughter has ended, she offers to guide you.

Personally. 

“O-oh, it’s fine - “ you just got mind fucked - Roxana willingly go anywhere near Dion’s room? Something’s not right. You take a step back. 

“I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you.” You give her a faux smile, worried.

 Worried for what? Your safety? The possible argument that could break out between the two siblings? Seeing something you’re not supposed to? Or having to awkwardly stand to the side as Dion acts weirdly and creepy towards his sister?

… or have her be in that position as your husband observes you like you’re a circus animal?

“It’s fine; I’d like to get to know you more. We’re family now, so it’s natural.” 

We’re family now. 

“...I’ll accept then. Thank you for taking care of me.” The scream that wishes to burst from your chest, the saliva drowning your gums and mouth, the quiver that threatens to take over your body - you hold it back. You have to. 

“It’s not a problem.” 

Fear prevents you from asking about Hana. 

You follow once she starts to walk, the sound of heels hitting the floor echoing. Even her back is elegant - perfect form, back straight and head up. Carrying an air of sophistication and confidence, Roxana Agriche deserves the female lead role. Her blond waves lightly bounce with each step. 

She is the definition of beauty. 

And as a dedicated fan - also driven by fear and mental stress - you will stay steps behind her. It’s for the best, it’s for your safety. Walk in her shadow but not at her side. Let the spotlight shine on her so you won’t be noticed, left alone by anyone and everyone. That is one plan for survival. 

“Oh? Sorry, I didn’t realize that you were behind me.” The fifteen-year-old girl waits for you to join her side after stopping, refusing to walk another inch until you do so. And your eighteen-year-old self  heistates - not because you feel inferior to her. God no, but because her mind is a puzzle you can’t solve. 

You don’t have the power to read her thoughts. You are only able to guess. 

This isn’t fiction anymore. 

“It’s fine. I was also lost in thought.” Busy with admiring her rather. You pick up your pace a bit if only to please her. She resumes guiding you once you’re right by her. Nothing falls into place despite observing her from the corner of your eye. You don’t sense anything.

No hostility nor mischief. There wasn’t a hint of pity on her face. Mockery was also absent, genuine joy nonexistent. 

“If I may say, you’re more lovely than I heard.” She compliments you, offering another one of those sweet smiles. And like the fool you are, you trip over both your feet and words. 

“A-ah, you’re too kind. If anything, the saying goes towards you.” Your neck feels hot and your mind is turning to mush. “Truly, you are indeed an interesting person.” 

She stops again, taken aback. But she quickly recovers before returning back to the conversation. “Interesting? You’re the first person to describe me as such.” 

“That’s a surprise. I thought many would have.” You think about it. What was the first thing everyone notices about Roxana? Her beauty, of course. 

But, as a reader, how could you ignore and forget her personality? 

…then again, this entire time you were mentally obsessing over her appearance and voice. You were no better than everyone else.

You take a turn in the ridiculously long hallway. Just for a moment, tranquility replaces the harshness of reality. Funny. 

One moment you’re afraid of her and the next she brings you peace. She’s a bit easier to deal with than Dion. Softer, gentlier, and outwards she is humane. The most sane person in this hell. 

“We’re in the main hallway,” Roxana informs, and the staircase looks familiar. When you had made your way with Hana to the dining room, you were disorienting so hard you didn’t even realize your feet were moving. 

“Up these stairs and we’ll be closer to your room.” Roxana tells you, a hint of disgust in her  voice. Aha. So she doesn’t want to go near him. Then why guide you? 

“Oh,” you say, “how nice.” How wonderful indeed, seeing the husband who left after your first night, who’s acting weird, who’s brutal personality is hidden beneath a layer of ‘indifference’, who probably stalked you while - 

Oh. 

Oh God. 

“? Are you okay? You look pale.” Roxana’s question brings you back to reality. Blinking, you try to calm yourself before your breathing gets heavier. Your heart won’t stop rattling. Your blood won’t stop rushing. Your ears are ringing. 

Never once did you think of the possibility that Dion Agriche had stalked you during the duration of your engagement. The shampoo, the sheets, that horrifying look in his eyes - 

“Oh. Oh, yes, of course. I’m just a bit… nervous.” Did he stalk you? If so, why? To drill even more fear into you, to show you that he could easily cause you harm? To silently threaten the safety of your family if you were to ever act out? 

“But yes, I’m fine. Just need a minute to gather myself.” 

Either out of curiosity or obligation, or even consideration, Roxana lets you do just that. 

- - -

You arrived at your - his - chambers  sooner than wanted. Way too soon. 

Despite the show your sister-in-law displays, she can’t hide the disgust and hatred in her eyes as she stares at the heavy double doors. You don’t blame her. Even if he acted out on orders, your husband still killed her brother. Their brother. 

He also attempts to harm her mother. Just to see her cry. 

…would he do the same to you?

“Well,” turning to her, you show a smile. It doesn’t reach your eyes. You’re too tired to even try. “Thank you for showing me the way.” 

You open the door before she could even get a word out. Shutting it behind you before every single ounce of bravery evaporates, leaving you a slimy mess. Monster or not, Dion Agriche is still your husband. And, as you were raised, you have to play the role of his wife. 

 His pretty, little, obedient wife. 

Only to see that no-one is in the room. 

“...haha…wow…hahaha!” Like a mad woman you giggle, falling to the floor as your legs give out. Was it from stress? Relief? Does it matter? 

You’re happy - you don’t have to see his face for a bit longer. Even if it’s only for a minute, you don’t have to be in his presence. But with happiness comes realization - Dion will eventually show up. He told you such. 

“...I… I just want to sleep.” Your shoulders slump as you become boneless - so much happened within the span of a few hours. Odd behavior, old memories, confusing and conflicted feelings - you’re not meant for this environment. Forget about being murdered or tortured - your mind would dismantle before anything could happen. 

The floor is uncomfortable but all of your strength is gone. Were you always this weak? This hopeless? So much that you couldn’t even last a single day. Pathetic. 

“...” ahead of you is the bed. The same bed you will have to share with your arranged husband. It was comfortable, but the fact you’re forced to share it with Dion makes you bitter - the fact that he’ll fuck you on it makes you so fucking sick.

You’d rather sleep on the floor. 

Moonlight fills the room from the glass doors closing off the terrace. Jeremy said you should escape. Is it worth it? Was jumping off the terrace to attempt an escape worth it? Would you survive it? 

Get caught? 

Die?

Your mind is becoming muddy. You haven’t even met with Lant yet. The worst of the worst. Yet here you are, already thinking foolishly. Of course you would be caught. Dying wasn’t something you wanted to do, though. Neither was being punished for attempting an escape. 

Your ears perk at the sound of the doors opening behind you. 

“Do you find the floor more comfortable than the bed?” Low and deep, Dion doesn’t even properly greet you. Well, not like you want to either. 

You want to tell him to try it out of spite. But you’re too tired to even turn around and face him, much less stand. His footsteps get closer until he’s right behind you. Your eyes shut close. 

“Wife.” He calls once, and you don’t respond. You don’t want to.

You want him to stop calling you that. You want him to stop talking to you. You want him to stop existing. 

His footsteps echo in the room before he kneels in front of you. Finally, you look at him. What type of expression are you making? 

His hand is cold as he brings it up to cup your cheek. Scarlet that glows in the moonlight that looks at you in such a strange way. Do you know what was swirling in his eyes? Do you want to?

“...Dion. Welcome back.” Acknowledging him, you peel his hand away from your cheek. He already touched you the night before. That’s enough. 

Instead of leaving, he grasps your wrist. Firm enough to where you couldn’t tug your hand away. You eye it before giving up. Just for now. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m too sore from last night,” you say, assuming that sex is on his mind. Obligation, lust, a soon-to-be routine. Either one could be the reason. 

“I’m not here for that. Nor do I want it.” 

Your head tilts to the side before he continues. “Father expects us to dine with him tomorrow.” 

“I see. Is that all?” 

“You look dead,” free hand cupping your face - again - Dion gently swipes his thumb under your eye. Your fondation catches on his thumb. “Worse than when you showed up for dinner.” Hah. Is he enjoying himself?

“I’m just tired,” lying your eyes travel to your lap. “I’ll… if that’s all, then I’ll retire to bed.” You want him to leave you alone. You want to go home. 

On shaky legs you force yourself up and your husband lets go of your wrist. Your knees buck as you walk towards the bed. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. All you need to do is make it to bed. Changing clothes isn’t even on your mind - you just want to lay down. 

“You’re not going to change?” Your husband inquiries. What was wrong with this man? He barely spoke a word to you before the wedding. He left after cumming and leaving you alone, in pain and shivering like a fucking newborn foal. 

Sure, he was called away, but he never even returned like the bastard he is. He didn’t spare a fucking glance at you during dinner until his siblings showed up. 

“Where is Hana?” You ignore his question, focusing on the one person who doesn’t feel like a death trap. 

“She retired for the night. On Roxana’s orders.” 

“What? Why?” You almost get whiplash from how hard and fast you turn your head to look at Dion. Your husband has been looking at you this entire time. 

“She didn’t think I’d show up here.” 

I wish you didn’t. I wish you would have stayed indifferent as you were until today.

“Oh. Then, I’ll just sleep like this.” Flopping onto the bed, you kick your heels off. The corset is still tight, and it makes it harder to breathe. But you refuse to ask him for help. 

Thankfully, your husband makes no move to. Instead you hear him walk and the sound of the closet opening. Ruffling of the clothes before it stops. From what you heard, nothing dropped to the floor, rather, heavy boots walk towards the bed until they stop right next to you. 

Amazing how being so mentally and physically worn makes a person forget their survival instincts. How it makes fear turn into annoyance and gulps become huffs. 

But annoyance becomes confusion when something soft and loose lands on your back. Did he just… throw something on you?

Why can’t your husband just pick a side? Decide to ignore you. To be nice to you. Not go back and forth like it’s a fucking swing boat. 

“Wife,” there he goes again with that dreadful title, does he not remember your godforsaken name? “You won’t fall asleep with it on. You’re unable to.” You’re one second away from tearing your hair out. One second away from strangling him. 

You can regret everything tomorrow. 

“... Will you leave me alone if I change?” Supporting yourself on your elbows, you crane your neck to look over your shoulder. Your husband only nods, not explaining why he’s so insistent on having you change. 

You’re so done that you don’t even realize he’s enjoying this side of you. Your frustration, your annoyance, all spent and directed towards him. Tomorrow, when you’re of clear mind you’ll freak out, kicking and yelling at yourself for risking making him mad, only to question why he didn’t say anything in the first place. 

“I can’t reach behind my back,” you communicate to him, waiting for his reaction. A reply that may never come. 

“Just lay face down. I’ll untie it and won’t touch you further.” You wish he would leave and maybe fall down the stairs and break something. Ah, but maybe Lant should go through that instead. Break his neck and lay there, lifeless. How would the scene play out after that?

“Alright,” you give in, preparing for a war that doesn’t exist. Dion removes whatever he threw onto your back before nimble fingers quickly and carefully undo the strings on your dress. Once he’s done with that, he works on the corset, completely gentle. 

Wait, something wasn’t right. 

“Wait, how do you know how to undo the strings so quickly?” Waiting for his answer, you don’t make an effort to watch his reaction. You’d rather not look at the man who’s walking on thin ice right now. Yes, you are going to consider chucking yourself into the nearest river tomorrow. If you could find one. 

“... I was taught.” 

“By?” 

“A teacher.” 

He leaves it at that, choosing to leave out the details. It makes you suspicious. …was he also taught those techniques by a so-called teacher too?

Considering the amount of wives Lant has, STDs most likely don’t exist in this world. Regardless, the mere thought of your husband sleeping with someone before you irritates you. Not because you were jealous or anything of that sort, no; but because it was hypercritical. You were expected to stay ‘pure,’ a virgin while -

“You are the only person I’ve touched, much less slept with.” Was he a mind reader? Or were you just that obvious?

“As your wife, I think I should meet and thank your ‘teacher.’” Exhaustion does wonders to a person. The brain doesn’t work as it should and fright is no longer a thing. Instead it’s replaced by reckless behavior and a clouded mind. 

“Although, I do wish they also taught you aftercare.” 

“That person,” Dion begins, “is someone you know but are unable to see.” Sure Dion Agriche, sure. “As for afterwards… Father called for me.” 

“Mhm. For what?” Cold fingertips barely graze your spine as he looks at your skin. By now everything was untied yet the male doesn’t move. With lidded eyes he considers biting it. But he’s already breaking his promise by granting himself  the pleasure of grazing it. 

And you’re giving him a pass, perhaps with a blurred mind. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be having this conversation, much less show something other than fear in his presence. 

“To discuss further action regarding our marriage.” 

“You know,” you yawn out, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “most people in arranged marriages would refer to the marriage as ‘this,’ not ‘ours.’” The call of sleep is tempting you. 

“I’m not most people.”

“I know. If you were then you…” 

“Then what?”

Then you wouldn’t be a product of two insane and mental people. You wouldn’t be so jaded nor affection starved to the point you consider hatred as it. You wouldn’t have killed your own siblings or live solely to make one cry. You wouldn’t wander around the earth until your sister decides to kill you. 

You change the subject. “You could have let me finish at least once. It was my first time - you’re supposed to make it a positive experience.” Why you brought this up, you’re not sure. You doubt he feels guilty about it. 

“...Should I make you now?” He traces your spine, the cold sensation making you shiver. Odd. His touch doesn’t feel as gross as earlier. You must be going mad. 

Even more so since you’re hallucinating the hint of hunger in his voice. 

“No. I hated the entire thing. Just jerk off and I’ll shove it in, or something.” The idea of his sperm going anywhere near you repulses you, but you understand your role as a wife. His wife. 

“You also found my crying cute. I don’t like that, I actually hate it.” Was communication always this easy when your body is boneless and mind worn? Was he so talkative because he’s tired as well? 

“I can’t help it, “ Dion rubs circles between your shoulder blades and it makes you melt. For a split second, you forgot who you’re talking to. Where you were, who your husband was, your in-laws forgotten. For a moment, everything was ordinary and domestic. 

“I enjoy seeing you cry.” His fingers travel higher until his fingertips are at the sides of your neck, feeling your pulse. He wants to squeeze it, see you squirm. The urge to make you cry over and over again from overstimulation gets harder to resist. You’re allowing him to touch you, to see the skin of your back, to see you so vulnerable - surely, you could offer him a taste too, right? 

“...You’re not supposed to be this way.” A light chuckle comes from your chest. “You’re supposed to be brutal, selfish, unredeemable - well, you probably still are, but still. You’re not supposed to be married nor basically asking your wife to fuck.” 

You go on. 

“You’re not supposed to be this way. You’re driving me crazy, acting so different from what I know.” You’re supposed to be the character that was written in the story. Not… whatever this is.

Maybe you misunderstood his character. But you never did finish the novel and the webtoon was put on hiatus because of the shit the artist went through… you hope she’s doing better now. Way better. 

“Even Jeremy and Roxana are behaving weirdly.” You leave it at that, becoming silent. Dion doesn’t say anything. 

You decide to ask him a question that’s been nagging you ever since he mentioned his ‘teacher.’ 

“Oh, by the way… how would you react if I also had a ‘teacher’?” An undertone of teasing laced your voice - of course, you didn’t mean it. Unless it was a lover, you wouldn’t sleep with anyone outside of marriage. Although, you never did enter a relationship once prior to your engagement. 

The atmosphere becomes stiff. You suddenly remember who you’re dealing with - an Agriche. Dion Agriche, to be exact. 

Horror spreads throughout your body once you realize just what you asked him. Your breath catches in your throat as you feel him lean over you, fingers putting slight pressure on your neck, a silent threat to choke you. He’s like a heavy cover, you can barely breathe. 

When he talks it’s lower and deeper, sinister and possessive, his breath hitting your ear as he answers. 

“Easy. I would kill them.” 

[just-a-ghost00]

What you should know about them

Think of a person that you would like to enquire about before picking your group. It can be romantic or platonic.

Group 1 🐚 

Overall energy represented by the Fool | Spread : 6 of cups, 6 of pentacles, Justice, 5 of wands, King of wands, 3 of pentacles

This person has a child, possibly a son. Their life is taking a radical U-turn. They are starting anew. This could mean they are either divorcing or moving away from a situation / a job that caused conflicts in their life. They are looking for balance and a sense of peace because their life was chaotic up until now. The presence of their child and their wellbeing is also a major factor in their decisions. There were a lot of conflicts in their household regarding their job. Maybe this person was too ambitious and not open enough to learning and listening to people's advice. Maybe their responsibilities clouded their vision to the point where they were disregarding their reponsibilities as a partner and a parent. It could also be they had an affair with a younger person or at least they admitted to having their eyes set on another person. Because on the cards, the king of wands is depicted looking at the left while he's kinda throwing fire at the right. On the left of this king of wands is the 5 of wands, showing a young woman being cornered by four other people. She looks modest but strong in her power, even when acculated by more influential people. On the right of the king is the 3 of pentacles, picturing some kind of nun. The nun looks kinda sad. She is contemplating and her heart is guarded by her crossed hands. As if she were saying : "Lord why did it have to come to this?" It's like the king wants to rescue the 5 of wands person while he's potentially hurting the 3 of pentacles person. This is very specific and may not resonate with everyone.

If this isn't the case of your person, it could be that they are feeling triggered and cornered by other people and they have a hard time moving on. Instead of being the bigger person and not giving them any more attention, they dwell on what happened and try to wrap their mind around ways they can work this out, hoping they could change them. This person is longing for meaningful connections where they don't have to fight or overgive to be respected and cared for, to receive love and acceptance. They are tired of fighting for bread crumbs and they intend on getting retribution for the wrong that has been done to them. This person could be a soulmate of yours. You are bonded by karma and divine justice. They bring balance in exchange and wealth, as well as reciprocated love. Their presence in your life is a retribution for all the hard times you went through. You may be wary of them at first and try to resist the attraction you feel for them. But with time, you'll learn to see them for who they are and work together towards a new journey without fear of being judged or deceived. This energy feels very similar to group 3 so you may want to check that as well.

Letters : T N I D V S I O Z D I E T E Words/signs/names : division, divide, vision, tides, vines, zones, iode, ions, veins, tied, Dion, soviet, diet, dine, tones, dives, zen, Sonie, son, NOV(ember), Ted, sin, void, OVNI (UFO), Dio, TV, zionist, edits, tense, videos, visio, Oz, TNT, DVDs, seize, Vinted

Group 2 🎐

Overall energy represented by 7 of pentacles | Spread : queen of cups, hierophant, page of swords, king of cups, emperor, fool

The person you're thinking about could be your FS and/or divine counter part. If you're in a relationship with them or you intend to be, there could be jealousy around the relationship coming from a father figure. The connection between you needs time to progress but a good outcome can be expected. A new phase in the relationship is taking place. This could be them taking it to the next level by offering commitment or moving in with you. Your relationship could be work related. This person is very grounded and nurturing. They have a sweet and reliable energy that makes people feel super safe and protected. They are a good communicator and don't have issues with voicing out their needs, their worries, their feelings. For some of you this person could be religious. For some this person likes to have a lot of fun and do a lot of outdoor activites. They like to work out. I'm getting a very masculine energy from this person. As a child, they may have delt with toxic masculinity and controlling parents, especially their dad. I'm really getting this person potentially proposing to you. Cause the Hierophant combined with the page of swords makes me think of legal matters surrounding commitment. So they could be filing a paper to officially recognize you as their "wife"/"husband", or at least someone they are "tied to" according to the law. I feel like this is very important for them. Like this person was not fully into the relationship because that important step wasn't reached. I mean, this would be logical knowing they are potentially religious. They were waiting for engagement to fully embrace the connection you have.

I asked spirit for more information as I wasn't getting much from the initial spread. The cards were the Hierophant again combined with the Star and the 3 of pentacles. So I'm getting that for some of you the relationship wasn't official. It wasn't even publically known that this person liked you on a romantic level to the point of wanting to marry you. They even hid it from their family, maybe because of cultural differences or because you were from different social backgrounds. For some I'm even getting your person is an important public figure. They couldn't tell people they had the intention of marrying you because they would have gotten backlash about it. But they're tired of hiding what they feel and they want to be able to work on this relationship without shame nor fear. They want to do right by you, in the name of the law and the name of their spiritual beliefs. So they want to make it public. They want to close the distance between you. I'm also getting a message of this connection being a protection for you. A protection from a rigid father figure or from masculines in general. It's like this person wants to "claim" that you are theirs because they just can't stand anymore the though of you being courted by other people.

Letters : B G E R A R S B L I T E N I words/signs/names : Nile, Blaise, Argent, bites, raise, arts, breast, genie, girls, Line, Lina, real, siren, gears, bears, big, lasting, Italie (Italy), Brésil (Brazil), trains, Real (as in Real Madrid), Neil, rentals, Bergen, Iran, star, stranger, liars, brags, listen, bars, blasting, Berlin, Nial, anis, teens, trials, brats, barbers, grabs, gelatine

Group 3 🌊

Overall energy 6 of cups | Spread : Tower, 8 of wands, The Lovers, page of cups, King of swords, Queen of swords

This person is a soulmate. They have divine counterpart potential. There was jealousy surrounding this person's relationship in the past, a lot of gossip that possibly lead to a major shift in their life. Possibly a breakup/divorce. There were a lot of interferences, a lot of heat. They couldn't see clear anymore. So a choice has been made by this person to move on from their toxic environment. They could have met you in the process of moving away from this relationship and they decided to give your connection a chance. They like you more than just a little. Yet, they may be scared of what they feel so they could be somewhat reluctant to make a move. At the same time, they want to come forward quickly and tell you what's on their heart. There's a lot of conflicting energy surrounding this person.

What's positive in this situation is that they view you as their equal. They're aware of what you can bring to the table and their feelings are genuine. I don't sense any ill will coming from this person. But rather a lot of affection and a strong desire to protect. They are evolving quickly. After the shift in their personal life, a lot of things have happened to them at a fast pace. Maybe they quickly found a new home if they were looking to relocate. Maybe it was about job offers or just finding a new person (aka you). They quickly moved on from whatever trouble they were facing before. They are not the type to dwell on a situation if they know they did their part and there is nothing more they can do. Even more when they know what they want. They may not be sure about what they hope for with you, but they know for certain they want to get closer and get to know you better. I feel for this group your meeting with this person is quite recent. Either that or they recently developed feelings for you which weren't there before.

I felt the need to ask for clarification about the gossip surrounding their relationship. The card are : 2 of wands, High Priestess, 3 of pentacles. People were doubting this person's loyalty toward their partner because they were not being transparent about what they were working on. They were elusive about their projects, their job. People may have found suspicious that they spent more time at work away from their partner (and possibly kids) instead of being home with the ones they loved. When all this person was doing was just to try to protect their loved ones from their work struggles. For others, it could have been that they were accused of having an affair with a coworker. I'm getting this person's job requires to travel a lot, especially abroad. People were suggesting to their partner that they had a double life, that they found another person in a foreign country with whom they were cheating on their partner. In reality, people were wrongly assuming your person's intents. They have a very different conception of relationships than what most people think. If for others love for a partner should be shown by spending quality time with them and constantly being present for them, they like to show appreciation for their partner by trusting them enough to leave them be and have their free space. This person doesn't feel the need to know and control everything about their partner. They don't feel the need to be constantly tied to their loved ones. They like to have their own little bubble and they allow the same for their partner. They instead show love by supporting their person's independence, giving words of affirmation, providing a different point of view on life, taking care of their health by doing acts of services. For instance, they are definitely the type to work extra hours to provide for their family so that their partner doesn't have to and can enjoy more free time. They have been wrongly judged. You might want to check group 1.

Letters : M V I C A K M O T E S S R words/signs/names : Kassim, cakes, cars, moms, VISA, raise, crest, tears, Sommer (summer), Kaiser, sister, socks, cream, voice, cries, Moris, Cris, mess, Messi, Roma, mics, east, tram, Vimeo, Cameo, cams, treks, tracks

[gigabyte-flare]

He Comes Alive (Part 2)

Part 1

Summary: More hikers are going missing and now one of them has been found dead, seeming having been attacked by a strange animal. Meanwhile, Leon stops by your work, giving you an offer you can't refuse.

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: vampire/plagas!Leon Kennedy x fem!reader (afab)

Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.

Warnings: Biting, blood, gore, murder, unprotected p in v, masterbation, oral (m and f receiving), stalking, pet names, kidnapping, breeding kink, blood play/kink, DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT [More warnings may be added in future entries]

A quick reminder that I no longer do tag lists

You awake the next morning at around 7:00am, stretching your arms and yawning loudly before rubbing your eyes, the events of the previous night gone from your mind as you climb out of bed. You throw on your pajama pants before going downstairs, where you find both your parents now huddled in front of the TV.

“What’s going on?” you ask, standing in the threshold of the living room before stepping in to join your parents.

What you see, shocks you. It’s a breaking news report. Fish and Game had found one of the hikers, Alicia Walker, dead off of one of the Mt. Lafayette trails.

“They’re calling it an animal attack,” your father suddenly breaks the silence, “there were signs she had been attacked by some kind of animal like a bear or… a coydog. But… I’ve never heard of bears or coydogs attacking people around here.”

Your focus returns to the TV, where you watch the reporter at the Mt. Lafayette trailhead.

“Fish and Game is asking hikers to never hike alone, let friends and family know if they plan on hiking and where, as well as bring adequate protection to defend themselves against wildlife until they can find and euthanize the animal responsible for this attack. Fish and Game believes this same animal is responsible for the other missing hikers, the latest being 21 year old Nathaniel Dion of Oakvale who was last seen Monday--”

Your eyes widen at the name; you went to school with this guy. He wasn’t anyone you knew personally, but he was one of the more popular guys in your high school class. You recall he was a huge fitness junky. He was also Chief Bob’s only son; you could only begin to imagine how much this probably distressed him and his family. 

“Poor Bob and Nancy…” you hear your mother say before she abruptly walks into the kitchen, “I’m going to call them up and see if there’s anything we can do to help them, Mick.”

“Yeah, it’s the least we can do, maybe we should have them over for lunch. I’m sure they could use the company,” your father suggests before turning off the TV and joining your mother in the kitchen.

Meanwhile, you remain in the living room, staring at your reflection in the TV screen before you turn, going back upstairs to your bedroom to get dressed.

Later that day, Chief Bob and his wife Nancy do end up coming over for lunch. Your mother had made up sandwiches and fresh ice tea for everyone. Sitting at the dining table with them was unfortunately awkward, Chief Bob and Nancy were clearly distraught, understandably so. 

“He said he was doing the Lafayette, Lincoln and Liberty loop, which normally only takes him a day or two. When he didn’t come back Wednesday…” Nancy begins, wiping tears from her eyes.

“That’s when I reached out to Fish and Game to report him missing, they immediately organized a search party. That’s when they stumbled upon that other hiker, Alicia. They found her when they were looking for Nate.” Bob finished, clearing his throat as he attempted to regain his composure. 

“Is it true what they’re saying? That an animal is attacking hikers?” you interject before biting into your sandwich.

“That’s the weird part. I asked for a copy of her autopsy report. The poor girl’s throat was practically ripped out, her blood drained out of her body almost completely--”

“Bob, honey, we’re eating.” Nancy scolded.

Bob continues, paying Nancy no mind, “when I talked to the coroner that did her autopsy, he said the bite wound was unlike anything he’s ever seen. I don’t know of a single animal up here that would do that and… drain the blood out like that.”

“I can see why they’re keeping that hush-hush. We don’t need any crazy rumors that we’ve got vampires or some bull crap like that,” Mick replies with his mouth full of sandwich.

“Fish and Game is still looking for Nate, I’m praying to God he just got off trail and got himself lost. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to him,” Nancy says with a sigh, resting her hands in her lap as she stares down at her untouched sandwich. 

Your mother reaches over, putting her hand over Nancy’s, giving them a pat, “I have faith that he’s out there. Mick and I and our daughter are here for both of you if there’s anything we can do to help.”

Nancy suddenly bursts into tears, sobbing at the dining room table loudly.

Your mother looks at you, “sweetheart, can you grab the box of tissues that is sitting on my nightstand for Nancy?”

You give your mother a quick nod as you stand up from the dining room table to head upstairs to the master bedroom. So many thoughts were racing through your head, mostly about how the hiker had died. Chief Bob was right; yeah there were bears and coydogs, but nothing would or could suck a person’s blood dry like that. Shaking yourself from your thoughts, you find the box of tissues on your mother’s nightstand, right where she said it was and brought it downstairs.

You sit back down at the table but you can’t help but zone out, thinking about Nate, lost in the forest.

That evening, you get yourself ready to go to work, heading into the garage of your family’s home to get into your bright yellow 1977 Chevrolet Chevette. It was kind of a beater, but it was reliable. Your dad had made sure it was running well prior to you flying back home. You turn the key, the engine roaring to life; you turn around in your seat and slowly back out of the garage to go to work.

You hear Whitney Houston’s ‘I Wanna Dance with Somebody’ come on the radio, you turn up the volume and sing along. After a few minutes, you arrive at the gas station, parking your car on the side of the building before heading inside.

“Hey Peggy!” you call out as you walk in, walking into the back office to drop off your purse and car keys before heading up to the register.

“Hey sweetie!” Peggy replies when you come back out to relieve her from her shift, “how was your day?”

“It was ok, we had lunch with Chief Bob and his wife. I’m sure you heard his son Nate’s missing in the mountains.”

Peggy shakes her head, “I did hear about that, poor kid. I really hope they find him safe and sound. They found one of the other hikers dead, right?”

“Yeah, supposedly attacked by some kind of animal.”

“God help us…” Peggy says under her breath as she walks out from behind the register to let you in.

“Have a good night Peggy!” you say to her, seeing her off as you take up your post.

A couple hours go by, you watch as the sun sets behind the mountains. It was a slow night, so you took that opportunity to mop the floors, zoning out the roar of a motorcycle pulling into the gas station. The sound of the door chime snaps you out of your daze. You look up to greet the customer.

“Hey there, how can I help-- oh! Leon!”

Your heart immediately starts racing again upon seeing Leon. He’s wearing a blue button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows with a black vest on top and tight fitting black pants with black boots. The outfit makes him look otherworldly; simply stunning.

“Hey there, I was hoping you were working tonight,” Leon says, giving you a gentle smile.

“R-Really?” you reply as you haphazardly put your bucket and mop over in a corner, “how… can I be of assistance, Leon?”

“Well, as I’m sure you’ve heard, I bought that old house on the end of Hemlock Drive.”

“Yeah… Mr. Mason’s place, right? Oh… right… you wouldn’t know who that was…” you say, your voice trailing off. 

Leon lets out a playful chuckle before continuing, “well… I’m starting to realize I could use an extra pair of hands to help fix it up.”

“You want me to ask around to see if anyone can help?” you say, crossing your arms, shifting your weight on one foot.

“I was actually hoping I could hire you.”

Your heart jumps into your throat and your mouth hangs slightly agape as you process his words. The door chime going off again snaps you out of your shock.

“Hold that thought,” you gesture your finger at Leon as you walk behind the cash register to help the customer that walked in, a stranger passing through getting gas.

Leon stands behind the customer but off to the side, waiting for them to leave so that you two could continue your conversation. You send the customer off on their way after they pay for gas, drawing your attention back to Leon.

“So… what would I be helping you with? I don’t know much about… building stuff,” you explain, feeling your cheeks turn red.

“Oh no, nothing like that. I’d have you help with painting, cleaning, maybe nailing stuff down. Easy stuff, I promise. And I’d be paying you.”

“How much?”

Leon shrugs his shoulders, “I was thinking… $10 an hour? I’d have you do Monday through Friday from 7:00am to 3:00pm, give or take.”

$10?! you think to yourself. 

That is way over what you’re making here, which is minimum wage, “I’ll do it. I’d have to put my notice in here first.”

Leon smiles, “think you can start next Monday?”

“Absolutely!”

Leon leans forward against the counter, reaching across to give one of your shoulders a pat, “excellent! See you on Monday then.”

Leon gives you a subtle wink, turning to walk out of the gas station. You watch as he gets on his motorcycle, jumping a bit when it roars to life, your eyes remaining locked on him as he drives off. You can’t believe your luck.

Pulling up to his home at the end of Hemlock Drive, Leon parks his motorcycle out front, climbing off it before heading inside. Immediately upon entering the front door, he lets himself finally relax, taking off his vest before he works on unbuttoning his shirt. He walks into the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror as he pulls his shirt off, revealing his chiseled chest. 

Before long, dark veins begin to sprawl across his body as he rubs the knots out of the back of his neck with one of his hands, his eyes closed as he lets out a low groan. He slowly opens his eyes, his ocean blue eyes now a brilliant red; they appear to glow in the low light of the bathroom. He snarls his lips at his reflection, revealing his sharp canine teeth that have descended, licking the points with his tongue before he steps back, admiring his physique in the mirror. All the while, something deep and primal within him, at the very core of his being, begins to nag him once more, something that wouldn’t stop since he first laid eyes on the cute girl that works nights at the gas station.

Breed.

In fact, he had gotten himself so worked up that night he met her while filling his motorcycle’s gas tank that he had to go out and hunt. Smirking in the mirror, he turns, walking out of the bathroom, approaching a door in the rear of the house that was padlocked shut. He pulls his keys from his pocket, unlocking the padlock and setting it aside on a small table before opening the door. It leads to the basement, the smell of blood immediately hitting his senses, driving his hunger wild. He descends the stairs slowly, flipping on a light at the bottom that turns on a single set of fluorescent lights.

Under the light, there is a support beam that a young man is tied to, bloody, battered and his neck covered in several bite marks, with duct tape wrapped around his mouth and eyes. The young man immediately hears Leon approach, struggling as much as his weak body can against his restraints. Leon stalks over to the young man, grasping him by his chin and squeezing tightly, smirking down at him. Today he learned this imbecile is the Oakvale’s chief of police’s only son. Just his luck. It was because of this moron hiking alone that Fish and Game had found the remnants of one of his other meals looking for this idiot. He could feel his frustration boiling within him, causing him to suddenly twist the young man’s head, snapping his neck instantly.

“Whoops.”

He didn’t mean to snap the poor kid’s neck, he was hoping to enjoy him for a few more days, now he has to enjoy as much as he can before his blood starts to go stale. Opening his mouth, his fangs and mouth latch onto the dead young man’s neck, growling as he begins to feed upon him. He gets his fill, unlatching himself from the young man’s lifeless form with a gasp, breathing heavily as blood runs from his lips, dripping down his chin onto his bare chest. The young man’s body slumps forward as Leon steps back. He’s going to have to get rid of him before his cute angel starts her new “job” on Monday.

Thinking of her, his eyes flutter shut, his right hand smearing the blood that had dripped down across his chest, bringing his hand to his lips to lick off the blood. Before getting himself too worked up again, he turns around, leaving the basement, shutting off the light as he ascends back up the stairs. He goes back into the bathroom, turning on the shower. As he waits for the water to warm up, he looks at himself again in the mirror. His pupils dilate upon seeing the blood on his skin. Turning away from the mirror, he removes what’s left of his clothing and steps into the shower to clean himself up, watching as blood runs down his naked body, the blood swirling on the shower floor before going down the drain. 

His mind wanders back to his cute angel, to that night he watched her from the window while she played with herself, his own blood rushing straight to his cock. Grasping himself with his right hand, he begins to stroke himself aggressively, chasing his orgasm as he pictured his cute angel lying beneath him, her undoubtedly beautiful cunt squeezing around him. It doesn’t take long for him to climax, ropes of cum shooting out and covering his hand; some of it managed to land on the shower wall. He takes a moment to rinse his hand off as well as wipe the cum off the shower wall before turning the shower off. 

Stepping out of the shower, he grabs a towel off the rack, wrapping it around his waist as he steps out of the bathroom and heads into the master bedroom. He lays down onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling as he continues to think about his cute angel, excited about seeing her on Monday. He thought his plan was ingenious; getting her closer to him under the guise of a job. He knew luring her wouldn’t be difficult, she practically eye fucked him every time they saw each other. Still, he had to offer her pay that he knew she couldn’t refuse. Then, he could take his time courting her and before she even knows it, she’ll be his.

His Mate.

“Absolutely not,” your father says to you sternly the next morning at the table at breakfast.

“What do you mean, absolutely not? I already took the job, Dad, I’m putting in my notice tonight. He’s paying me $10 an hour! I couldn’t say no to that!”

“And have you in that house, alone with some guy we don’t even really know? I don’t think so.”

“Dad come on, he’s really nice…”

“We have plenty of retired guys in town that he could have asked.”

“Mick,” your mother tries to interject.

“For all we know, he could be some psychopath or something--”

“MICK! THAT’S ENOUGH!” your mother finally shouts at him, startling both of you.

You look over at your mother who is glaring at your father; the look on her face could have set him on fire. Your mother was always soft spoken and kind. It took a lot to get her angry, and you’ve never seen her this angry.

“In case you forgot, Mick, she is an adult. Besides, not only is that good money, that would be a good experience for her, too. Yes, we don’t really know Leon, but from the handful of times I’ve spoken to him, he seems fine. He used to work for the government for Christ’s sake. You can’t get more trustworthy than that.”

Your father lets out a loud sigh, his attention back on you, “fine… but at the first sign of trouble, you get the hell out of there, understood?”

“Of course,” you reply with a nod, taking a bite out of your breakfast, “I didn’t know he used to work for the government.”

“Heard it from one of the guys at Moe’s,” your father replies, “he was some kind of special ops agent, or something. At least that’s what I’ve heard.”

“Maybe he can figure out what’s happening to all these hikers,” your mother suddenly says, “they still haven’t found Nate.”

“Poor kid, I hope he’s alright,” your father shakes his head, finishing up his breakfast and getting up from the table, “I’ll be in the garage, I’m going to get that car finished up today even if it kills me.”

You watch your father walk out of the dining room, the unmistakable sound of the door being whipped open and slamming shut following him. You and your mother finish breakfast in silence until your mother finally speaks up.

“He just wants what’s best for you. But, he needs to understand that you are a big girl now,” she lets out a sigh before continuing, “when I was your age, my father wouldn’t let me think or do anything for myself. I’m not letting that happen to you.”

You give your mother a smile, “thanks, Mom.”

Before you know it, Monday rolls around and you’re up bright and early. You were the epitome of a bundle of nerves, getting yourself ready and prettied up to ensure that not only you get there on time, but that you were presentable. 

Might as well give him something nice to look at while working, right?

It’s about a ten minute drive to Mr. Mason’s-- Leon’s house, so you make sure you’re out the door by quarter of eight to give yourself plenty of time to get there. Getting in your Chevette, you back out of the driveway and make your way there. Hemlock Drive is just on the outskirts of town, the entryway actually not too far from the gas station you had been working at. At the very end, you see it, an old ranch style home with a farmer’s porch; you guess it was probably built in the 30s. How many times had you come down here with your school friends and knocked on that front door, only to bolt when Mr. Mason came rushing out, red faced and furious as he chased the kids away. You immediately spot Leon’s motorcycle parked in the front. Over on the side of the house you see another vehicle parked: a black Jeep Wrangler with its unmistakable square headlights.

You park your car, turning off the engine to pull your keys out of the ignition, throwing them into your purse before you climb out of your car. You look down at your watch; it’s five of eight, early like you had intended. You approach the house, climbing the small set of steps, your heart pounding in your chest. You stand in front of the door, raising your trembling hand and give it a few knocks. You can hear movement inside the house and before you have time to collect yourself, Leon opens the door and you almost gasp. He’s shirtless and you can’t help but admire his built form. You force your eyes up to his, his ocean blues looking back at you as he smiles at you. 

“Good morning, sweetheart! Ready to get to work?”

Part 3

[justsillymilo]

Hellenic Polytheism 101

Tips on How To Start Worshipping the Greek Gods!

!Disclaimer! I’ve only started practicing Hellenic polytheism a few months ago! I’m not a professional and while I will try my hardest I’m not gonna get everything right

To many, starting to worship the Greek gods can be daunting. You’ve probably heard a lot about them and maybe don’t know where to start—but never fear—your helpol big brother is here to help you!

Today, I’m going to go over what Hellenic polytheism is, well-known gods, common misconceptions, and some helpful tips! 

Before that though, I just want to reiterate that I am not a professional and have only started this journey a few months ago. It’s important to fact-check any information you receive to make sure it’s correct, even if it’s from a credible source. 

Alright, let’s start with what Hellenic Polytheism even is! To put it simply, Hellenic Polytheism refers to the religous practice of honoring the gods of ancient Greece. This religion has existed for a very long time but because of the introduction of Christianity the religion is not as big as it was before in ancient Greece. Though, in recent years, the religion has gained popularity and is steadily growing! 

Well-known gods: 

There are many gods in this religion including The Twelve Olympians, divinities and spirits of nature, underworld deities, and heroes. To keep this simple, I’m just going to talk about some of the 12 Olympians. 

The first and probably one of the most well-known gods is Zeus, the sky and thunder god and king of the gods on Mount Olympus-where he and the other 12 Olympians live.  

Apollo is the son of Zeus and Leto and the Greek god of the sun, light, prophecy, music, dance, plague, healing, poetry, archery, and much more. He is also the twin brother of Artemis the goddess of the hunt and the moon. He is often depicted beardless and often holding a lyre

Aphrodite is the goddess of love, beauty, passion, and more! She is often associated with lust and fertility. In some myths, she is considered the daughter of Zeus and Dione. However, in other versions, she is said to have been born from seafoam, emerging fully formed from the sea. Her son Eros, the god of love, is a significant figure in many myths.

Hermes is the god of travel, herd, luck, speed, trade, and more! He is the son of Zeus and the Pleiad Maia. Hermes is also known to be the messenger god and quite mischievous 

Artemis, the twin sister of Apollo and the daughter of Zeus and Leto, is the goddess of the hunt, wild animals, nature, chastity, vegetation, childbirth, and the moon! She is often depicted with a bow and arrow and accompanied by an animal (usually a deer or sometimes hunting dogs) by her side. As one of the three virgin goddesses Artmis took a vow of chasity. Additionally, she is also the protector of childbirth of young children,  

Hera is the revered queen of the gods and the wife of Zeus. She is the goddess of family, marriage, childbirth and women. Known for her jealousy and vengeance, especially towards Zeus and his many lovers and their offspring. Her children are Ares, Hephaestus, and Hebe. Eileithyia is also sometimes considered to be one of Hera’s children. 

There are more Olympians but to keep this post short-ish I’m going to stop here. But I encourage you to do some independent research and look more into the gods! 

Common Misconceptions 

There are a lot of misconceptions about Hellenic Polytheism so I’m just going to go over some of them and clear things up! 

Myths:Myths are very misunderstood in the helpol community particularly when taken literally. The myths-crafted by ancient men, were never meant to be taken literally. We value myths because it’s a way to see how the gods were veiwed back then and worshipped. They’re also just fun to read! Think of it like fanfiction (if you’re into that sorta thing): you wouldn’t start hating a character in a show just because of how they were written in a fanfiction, that would be irrational. The myths are simply stories about the gods created by men of the past. The gods are not their myths!

Candle Divination: Candle divination is a form of divination that interprets a flame and it’s movements to communate and understand messages from the gods. But, this form of diviniation is unreliable and you will give you false signs and readings. It’s best to not use this method and stick to more reliable ones like, tarot, dice or oracle. I’ll talk more about divination and different methods in another post!

No sins: In Hellenic Polytheism the concept of sins actually doesn’t exist. While there are things you can do to offend the gods, a sincere apology should be enough for forgiveness-just don’t repeat the mistake again. The gods will not be angry if you can’t make an offering everyday, they will not be angry if you can’t talk to them everyday, they will not be angry if you make a mistake. The gods know that you are only a mortal and mortals make mistakes. So don’t sweat it

General Tips

First, if you are in a situation where you can’t make a physical altar, I recommend using a box, like a shoe box. You can add your offerings in this box and anything else you think the god you’re worshiping would like! Remember, you don’t have to make an altar if you don’t want to, alters are not requirements, just useful tools to have! Don’t feel pressured to make one especially if you’re unable to! The gods won’t be mad

Dive into plenty of books! Books offer a lot of useful information about the gods and are just a nice thing to invest in. I recommend reading Mythology by Edith Hamilton-It’s a great book that provides really fascinating and interesting information about the gods and their myths! 

If you’re unable to make an altar there are other ways to make offerings to the gods. One of these ways is devotional acts. For example, if you wanted to do a devotional act to, lets say Apollo, you could decide to practice singing for 30 minutes a day and dedicate it to Apollo. You could practice using songs about Apollo or just think of him while practicing! If you wanted to do a devotional act for Aphrodite you could dedicate a day to self-care and think about her while doing it! I’m sure you get the picture! 

Just saying good morning and goodnight to the god/dess you’re worshiping is a great way to connect with them. And thanking them if you see something associated to them is great as well. For example, if you were at the beach you could thank Poseiden for the beautiful waves, or if you were going for a walk you could thank Artemis for the beautiful nature you see. Just taking a little time out of your day to connect with the gods will go a long way when trying to build a relationship with them 

If your only goal in building a relationship with the gods is to ask for stuff, don’t even bother. When forming a relationship with the gods, it should not be driven by self-interest; the relationship should be mutually beneficial, a concept known as kharis in Hellenic polytheism (I’ll discuss this term in a future post). Remember the gods are not obligated to grant you anything if they don’t want to. While the relationship should be beneficial for both you and the deity, it’s not a transactional exchange. 

Your relationship with the gods may be different from someone else's, and that's perfectly okay! Just as your relationship with one friend group might differ from another, the gods are complex, and what works for one person may not work for you. It’s important to establish your boundaries with whichever deity you’re working with, just as you would in any other relationship!

I hope you found this helpful and that it gave you the confidence and information you need to start a relationship with the gods. Remember to be respectful, but remember to relax and enjoy the journey. The gods might seem a bit intimidating, but they are kind and will appreciate any new worshiper! Good luck on your journey

Xoxo Milo

[jammyhunnyart]

My blorbos.

This is just an edit I thought of after I realized that both Dion and Raz had to grow up quicker but for different reasons. Dion being the oldest of his siblings and having more responsibilities and Raz who ran away into a potentially dangerous world and ended up getting a job where he wasn’t well received.

[corpseri]

ᝰ.ᐟ serenity | 023.5

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ novel: twtptflob/roxana

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ databank: here

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ word count: 1.1k

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ tags: @evaxmisu, @00hellohello00, @welpthisisboring, @hsrvl264, @flyingpansaurus, @semi-wife, @elvinapandra

◄ PREVIOUS CHAPTER ROUTE 1 | ROUTE 2 ►

dion finishes his mission before the first light of dawn breaks the horizon.

the final moments of his target’s life still cling to him — the slowing heartbeat, the desperate gasps, the last flicker of recognition in their eyes before nothing remains but silence. he wipes the blade clean in one swift motion, not out of necessity, but habit. the act is mechanical, unfeeling.

the night is still, save for the distant rustling of trees in the wind. the world has yet to awaken, leaving him to his thoughts. he doesn’t linger. there is no point.

his return to the agriche estate is brief. report, receive no reprimands, and leave before anyone can question why. his presence in these halls is fleeting at best, tolerated at worst.

there’s somewhere else he needs to be.

so, as the first golden rays of sunlight begin stretching across the sky, dion makes his way to his house.

your father’s house. it was obvious to anyone that the cloaked man did, in fact, not return to agriche before parting ways with you, but instead followed both you and your father into an abandoned and old home.

breaking in is easy. the lock offers no real challenge, and the door creaks open without protest. dion steps inside soundlessly, a shadow moving through familiar spaces. the air here is stuffy — lived in — nothing like the agriche mansion, where every inch of space is suffocated by silence and cold.

his gaze lands on the man sitting on the worn—down sofa, relaxed as though he had been expecting company.

your father does not startle. he doesn’t even react. instead, his attention is fixed on a strange rectangular object in his hands, held comfortably between four fingers as his thumb glides over its surface.

a soft glow illuminates his face, white and unnatural, casting subtle shadows beneath his eyes. it reminds dion of something eerie — unnatural.

their eyes meet.

in an instant, your father’s thumb presses into the side of the device, and the glow vanishes.

dion’s eyes narrow slightly. "what is that?"

your father merely tilts his head. "none of your concern."

his movements are smooth as he tucks the object into his pocket, as though it were second nature. a practiced motion.

"then answer this," dion says, stepping further into the room, voice even. "why are you awake this early?"

a chuckle — low, quiet, unbothered. "i could ask you the same thing."

dion doesn’t respond immediately. the answer should be obvious.

"you don’t have permission to die," he states flatly.

your father exhales a hum, resting his chin against his knuckles. "interesting choice of words."

a beat of silence passes before he continues.

"you know, it’s strange," he muses, his fingers tapping lazily against the armrest. "you’ve been strangled twice now. well, in the future. and both times, you were unconscious." he gives dion a pointed look, his voice carrying a certain weight. "don’t you think it’s funny?"

something in dion shifts — something small but sharp, a sliver of understanding slotting into place.

he knows.

your father watches him carefully, studying his reaction, searching for a crack in his composure. "you’ve read it, haven’t you?"

dion remains still.

your father leans forward slightly, his smirk widening. "the novel."

the confirmation is unnecessary. they both know the truth.

but dion still says nothing.

a soft sigh escapes your father, as if he finds this amusing. his gaze flickers with something unreadable. "tell me, dion," he drawls, his voice casual. "what about roxana? is she still alive?"

dion doesn’t hesitate. "yes."

"good," your father murmurs, as though genuinely pleased by the answer. "i think you both have unfinished business." the words settle into the space between them, unspoken implications curling at the edges. dion watches him carefully, eyes sharp, body still. unfinished business. before he can question it, your father speaks again. "do you love my daughter?"

the question is unexpected.

dion does not react, but his silence is telling. "i don’t know," he finally says.

your father exhales a quiet chuckle. "i see." he leans back, arms crossing loosely over his chest. "then let me ask it another way — do you wish to protect her? to take care of her?"

the response comes quicker. "yes."

your father hums, nodding slowly. he considers this for a moment, gaze drifting toward the ceiling as if mulling over some distant thought. then, without missing a beat, he says— "then why is that woman still alive?"

dion stills.

for the first time, his grip tightens ever so slightly.

"you don’t know what you mean," he says, though the words feel weightless.

your father chuckles, shaking his head. "don’t i?" his gaze sharpens. "think about it, dion." his name rolls off your father’s tongue so naturally, so deliberately, it feels as though the conversation has already reached its inevitable conclusion. "in the novel, roxana despised you," your father continues, his voice slow and deliberate.

"she wanted nothing to do with you. she loathed you with every fiber of her being." dion’s breath is measured, controlled. he does not respond. "and yet," your father tilts his head, "you followed her. always. like a devoted dog, refusing to let go of its master’s scent."

his lips quirk into something resembling a smirk. "you justified it to yourself. told yourself you had a reason. you wanted to see her cry, didn’t you?"

dion remains silent.

"but it never happened." your father’s tone is almost mocking. "no matter how much you tried, she never broke. she never gave you what you wanted." dion doesn’t know why, but something in him twists at that. "so, you gave up."

his stomach feels strangely heavy. "you stopped chasing her. you put down your sword." your father meets his gaze, unblinking. "and you never picked it up again."

the silence stretches between them.

"that’s loyalty," he says.

dion’s expression doesn’t change, but internally, something fractures. “she…”

it is not a realization he enjoys.

your father watches him for a moment before he exhales, shaking his head. "she never told you, did she?"

dion does not answer.

the smirk on your father’s lips widens. "she was selfish," he muses, almost amused. "she knew that if you found out the truth, you’d choose roxana. you’d leave her." dion’s fingers twitch. "and yet, here you are."

his father leans forward slightly, the amusement in his eyes unwavering.

"so, tell me again, dion — do you love my daughter?"

the question lingers, heavier than before.

for the first time, dion hesitates.

then—

"yes."

the admission comes quietly, but without doubt. your father grins.

"good," he murmurs. "then you know what you need to do." and just like that — dion understands.

[cryptictongues]

Dawns in Dalimil

pairing: Joshua Rosfield x Fem!Reader rating: Mature word count: 1.7k summary: You and Joshua have a sweet moment post-coitus.

warnings: Mentions of sex and the sweetest fluff EVER!!

Spoilers: There are a few mentions of things that if you aren't in a certain point in the game, you won't understand what I'm talking about. But just to clear things just in case, this takes place when Dalimil is first introduced.

Author's Notes: Just a heads up, please read my pinned post before following me! Minors and ageless blogs will be blocked as this blog's content is NSFW.

[AO3 link]

It’s late in Dalimil, so much so that the market outside the inn is dead silent and the ale house downstairs doesn’t have a whisper. The place is taking its rest, taking everyone with it before the dawn breaks… well except for the two of you.

With heavy breaths, heaving chests, and sweat shining on your bodies, you and Joshua lie in a small bed within a room from the Dalimil Inn recovering from the passionate love-making you both endured. Your trip to Dalimil was supposed to be short-lived as you both are trying to make it north to the Isles of Ark to meet with Prince Dion. However, the tension between the two of you had finally come to its breaking point and the most passionate, intimate sex you have ever had began and lasted until the dead of night. 

The bed creaks as Joshua moves to his side and you feel him get close to you, a hand placing itself under your left breast and lips making homage against your neck. He massages the subtle skin as he gives feather light kisses, causing you to giggle as a shiver runs down your spine. He bites down gently on the skin below your ear, causing a small yelp to leave your lips. “You are insatiable, you know that?” You breathe out, and he lets out a low chuckle into your ear. “You do this to me.” He bites down a little harder this time around, sucking and licking the spot to get another sweet sound out of you. You push him away slightly, laughing as he tries to keep his head in between your neck. “I need a break, Joshua. We’ve been at it nonstop for hours.”

He grabs the hand pushing against his chest, smirking at your struggle to get it out of his grasp. “You didn’t give me a break when I oh so kindly asked for one.” He brings your hand to his mouth, kissing your fingertips as he gauges your reaction. You scoff and sit up slightly. “Hey I gave you a cool down, and besides I did all the work that time. Give me some credit.”

Joshua shakes his head in amusement, propping himself up so his head was in his hand as his hand keeps hold of yours. “I hope you did enjoy yourself. I surely did.”

You grin, amused at his current demeanor. “Oh I most certainly did. To be honest, I didn’t know you had it in you.”

He grins as well, mischief appearing. “Didn’t have it in me to do what? To make you say my name like a prayer?” You smack his arm, a small oof leaving his lips. “You know what I mean.” You look down to his chest, focusing on the purple glow coming from it. “... but that too I suppose.” 

“If it’s any consolation, I was very nervous.” You cast your eyes back at him, shock strung on your face. His eyes focus on you, the softness of his gaze making your heartbeat just a tad faster. “All I want is to love you properly, and it is my duty to ensure that you receive that love in full. If I couldn’t love you in moments of intimacy, I think I’d go mad.” 

His nervous admission was precious, and it made you happy. Joshua and you have been close for so long, and to know he had felt just as nervous soothes you. You bring your hands to his forehead, brushing the strands of sweaty hair away. You then cup his cheeks and bring his head down for a gentle kiss. Leaning your head against his forehead, you let your hands travel to the beautiful hair at the nape of his neck. “I promise you I have never felt so loved in my life.” You place another kiss on his lips. “Only you can love me in the way that I need.” You kiss the apples of his cheeks. “You could never disappoint me, especially when the love I receive comes from you.” You then kiss right under his ear lobe and speak in a whisper. “And if it's any consolation, I didn’t sense your nervousness. You exude confidence.” You snicker a little bit, causing Joshua to pull away to look at you. “Especially since you tried to basically fold me in half.”

Joshua groans, and throws half his body on you, head hiding into your neck and an arm around your torso. You throw your head back into the pillow, laughing fully with your chest. Joshua lightly smacks your backside, more as a signal to quiet down as to not wake anyone rather than in embarrassment. You start wheezing as you try to calm down, the memory of Joshua trying to push your legs back against your body making it hard to. It had caused you to curse out, a muscle pulled in your thigh and him apologizing profusely as he massaged it back to good health. Looking back, you know it would be a silly memory you both could laugh at.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.” Joshua says, his voice muffled as he buries his face deeper. “I admit I got carried away.”

You chuckle. “I know I’m flexible, just not THAT flexible.” 

You feel him vibrate as his muffled laugh travels before he sits back up into his last position, only letting his hand go to the marks he had left on your neck and chest. He traces them, circling his fingertip on each hickey he had brought to light. “Maybe I really did get carried away…” You can barely hear him, his voice almost nonexistent as he mutters. “Do they hurt?”

You are taken aback, a little surprised he would even ask that given that he had a few hickeys on his neck as well and scratch marks that run along his back. Your silence convinces him and he places his hand over the mark above your collarbone, an orange glow lighting around his hand. It takes you a minute before you smack his hand away, shaking your head vigorously. “Don’t you dare try and remove the marks you blessed me with. Do you not like seeing them?”

“No, of course not.” Joshua says quickly, hand still in the air after you’d smacked it away. “I apologize for my hastiness.”  

You take his hand, kissing the back of it before putting his palm against your face. “I’m in no pain, I can assure you.” Your other hand goes to trace the purplish pink blemishes on his neck, copying his earlier movements. “Would you want to get rid of yours?”

“Absolutely not.” He speaks immediately, a shiver running down his spine as you push on one of his hickeys, the ache feeling more like bliss. You hum, engaging in his reaction. You love how sensitive he is; every touch and stroke upon his body makes him squirm in your hold. It is endearing, as well as mesmerizing. 

“If you keep touching me like that, you won’t be getting that break.” Joshua breathes out, both enjoying your touches and cursing you for the hold you have on him; his will being shaped by your gestures.

You feign innocence, acting like what he said didn’t have an effect on you. You continue touching his chest as the hand still holding onto his lets go to grip on his waist, squeezing his skin causing him to jolt with a gasp. “Hey!” 

You laugh and continue to do it, making him laugh hysterically as you tickle him. He tries grabbing for your hand, but your previously occupied hand on his chest grabs his hands, holding onto both of them as you continue your attack. He releases grunts and is moving his body frantically to try and get away. Next thing you both know, he is on the floor.

“Oh Founder! Are you okay?” You panic, climbing off the bed to see the damage you caused. 

With a sigh, Joshua smiles. “I’m alive, even after your attempt to murder me.”

“I would do no such thing!” You huff before pulling him up. You both are, once again, laying back down on the bed flat on your backs. The sleepiness is starting to set in and you can feel your eyes start to shut, when all of a sudden you feel hot air hitting your ear. You turn your head, eyes fully shut. “What?”

“Lie closer to me.” 

“Our shoulders are literally touching.” You say, sleep seeping into your words.

Joshua groans. “You know what I mean. Let me hold you.”

Without a peep from you, Joshua rolls you to your side so you face him and brings you into his arms. He squeezes you to him, cradling your head in one arm and the other pushing your body into his. You groan, the heat from his body heating yours to almost unbearable lengths. “You’re too hot.”

He chuckles. “I don’t care. You are going to let me embrace you after the number you did on me.”

“I didn’t mean to push you off the bed.” You whine, kicking your feet against his legs to get back at him for his attitude.

He chuckles and reaches down to your butt, giving it a light squeeze.“I was talking about our love making but that’s a good excuse too.”

“Can I adjust at least?” You ask, already starting to shift. Joshua hums and lays on his back, letting you scoot into side. Arm around his torso and the other held close to your chest, you lay your head down against his chest. His heartbeat is steady; a calming rhythm that’s lulling you to sleep.

Joshua watches as you slip away, sweet hums vibrating from your chest as you sleep. All he can think is how pretty you look in your sleep, especially with your messy post-sex hair and slightly swollen lips. He could watch you sleep forever, but sleep was starting to take hold of him as well. He kisses your forehead, whispering a goodnight before he enters dreamland.

And you both sleep soundly as signs of life start to pick up outside; with shops getting ready for the day and the hustle and bustle of people taking the streets of Dalimil. 

[violixir]

your psychic dion headcanons. i need them 🤲

ask and ye shall receive.

first of all, i will forever say that the psychic grulovian generational trauma narrative doesn't really work unless all of the aquato kids are psychic, too. which is why i am such an advocate for psychic dion.

the most important part of my psychic dion headcanons, and what so much of it hinges on, is that he's a natural hydrokinetic just like his nona. i actually really like if his psychic abilities contrast what you see a lot of in the aquatos. where you see bright, flashy pyrokinesis from them, an excitement in their abilities, dion's present as. well. cryokinesis and hydrokinesis. things that give him a bit of a complex about it all.

because of this and the fact that i rotate him in my head as a cube so much, i tend to give dion powers that call back to the past in general. he's the aquato child most shaped and rooted by it, who clings to the past ideals so hard, that it only makes sense on a thematic level. so along with that, i usually give him a bit of precognition to go with it. a bit of that old pn1 galocchio swag. not enough that even he would ever know if he had the psychic analysis brain cells to rub together to figure it out, but a gut feeling type thing. things he doesn't trust that go wrong so often that he's a bit self-righteous about it all.

Finally, i think dion's bitterness to raz's running away is three-pronged. he does see it as a familial betrayal, but he's also bitter that raz ran away at all, because as the parentified oldest child, he doesn't get to be the one to run from the emotional turmoil he's under. however, i also think, if he's psychic, a third more secret reason he's upset is that running away gave raz some sort of clarity in his life. it gave him a level of peace with himself, a bond with augustus, and so much of that is rooted in a part of dion that he has been trying to drown out for most of his life to seem like a good, perfect son.

[story-weavr]

A Hidden Story

Notes:

Inspired by The Bot Who Went Through Time by Commoncoral

This can be read as just TFA or a mixed universe.

The Autobots led by Optimus Prime were in a covert Autobot lab where experimentation for an energy source was underway. Due to the dangerous nature of the experiment, a secluded and hidden location was chosen for a lab.

Unfortunately, the Decepticons found the lab and attacked!

During the battle, an explosion occurred.

Waking up, Optimus Prime found himself on a Cybertron of the past. Unfortunately, he was smack-dab in the territory of Tarn. The most dangerous city-state on Cybertron, where crime, corruption, & brutality go hand-in-hand.

Knowing the danger he was in as well as the risks, Optimus opted to disguise himself with a new body and identity: Convoy.

He quickly found work where no one really cared who you were: Mining.

Luckily, he quickly made friends with another miner, Dion. He showed the young Convoy the ropes, and the two quickly became inseparable.

One day, a cave-in occurred. Convoy, furious at the foremen’s disregard for the trapped miners, immediately started the rescue effort. He, Dion, & others managed to save them.

The group was punished with cut pay and overtime for the resulting effect on production. Convoy, for leading it, was put on half-rations.

Later, at his hut in one of the miner camp-towns just outside the Tarn mines, Convoy received visitors. All but one were the mechs his actions saved.

Terminus, unfortunately, could not come with the others due to his damaged legs. Instead, he sent his son, Kilotron.

Kilotron was a gentle and noble soul within an intimidating frame. The mech was often visited by those who wanted him to work as a thug or a gladiator.

But Kilo was uninterested; he wouldn’t risk dying or killing.

After becoming closer with Kilo, Convoy later learned the young miner’s dream: to become a writer. One who could help, not just Tarn, but all of Cybertron to become better.

Something his grandmother, a Tarnian politician, failed to do. This resulted in her becoming a mining prisoner, and her son born in mining.

Over a short period of time, Convoy and Kiltron’s feelings became that of love. At first, Convoy tried to keep it platonic. But he started to lose hope that he’d ever return to his time.

One day, another cave-in occurred. This time, Convoy and Kiltron were trapped alone.

When they dug themselves out, something terrible greeted them. Among the casualties, Dion and Terminus had passed.

Convoy knew then: he or Kilo could die at any time.

That day, Convoy and Kilotron moved in together. In mining culture, they were now Conjux.

Time passed. Kilo moved up the miners’ informal ranks becoming a Head for a large team. Convoy had been reassigned to logistics and was now expecting their first sparkling. The two had become respected figures in their camp-town. They often met with other leaders to better organize the mine work and supply distribution.

One day, however, something terrible happened. The city-state of Vos, eternal arch-rival of Tarn, sent a squadron of bombers to various mining sites on the outskirts of Tarn. The plan was to take the mines for Vos by hitting the headquarters that were always a fair distance from the valuable mines themselves.

Unfortunately, Convoy and Kilo’s camp-town was right next to one of the targets.

Kilotron was still deep in the mines with his team. Convoy was surrounded by flames and panicking miners and civilians. He helped as many as he could escape.

Unfortunately, he himself became trapped. All hope seemed lost.

Then a portal appeared in front of him. Ironhide screamed Optimus’s name. Desperate, Optimus Prime ran through the flames and passed through.

Back in an Autobot lab, surrounded by old familiar faces, Optimus screamed in Ratchet’s familiar arms.

His Conjux was gone. Possibly dead in the attack. If not, he would die by the mines, Tarn’s corruption, the Vos’s attacks, by the Decepticon-Autobot war.

But worse than that, if Kilotron did survive, he’d be completely alone.

And the only thing Optimus had left of his beloved… was the sparkling he carried. The sparkling he would name Windblade.

When Kilotron finally came out of the mines, all he wanted to do was go straight back to Convoy and their unborn sparkling.

When he got out however, he was greeted by a group of miners led by one of the other camp leaders.

What he said caused Kilo to drop his tools and take off running. He ran, and ran, and ran.

Until finally he reached the hill that overlooked his home.

Where a dilapidated but lively camp-town once was, there was only smoking ruin and the smell of ash.

Kilotron let out a ROAR. One of grief… and rage!

That day, Kilotron… the miner… the writer… the mech with a family…

Was dead.

A short time later, Tarn’s infamous gladiator circle was shaken by the criminal lord Cryotek’s newest talent!

Megatronus!

[trashwithvariety]

exerpt from nosce te ipsum

“Stop it,” she heard both Dorian and Dione say from either side of her. She blinked and looked between both of them, then huffed and straightened her dress. 

“My goodness. I haven’t done anything,” she replied to them with an indignant eyebrow. 

Dorian’s face lifted in amusement as he seemed to watch her. “We’ll turn you into a high society lady yet, what with all that glaring.”

Francesca folded her hands neatly in front of her, turning to her daughter with an air of calm curiosity, effectively dismissing Dorian’s comment. “What were you two discussing?” 

Dione met her mother’s gaze, her expression sharp and faintly defensive, a familiar glimmer of defiance flickering in her eyes. “My dissertation, mother. She found the topic intriguing because it’s… not exactly standard.” 

Francesca arched an eyebrow, her curiosity sharpening. “Not exactly standard?” 

For a moment, Dione hesitated, the faintest crack in her composure. “Unorthodox,” she admitted, her tone firmer now, as though willing the word to deflect further inquiry. 

But Francesca had spent a lifetime reading people, especially her daughter. She saw the flicker of something hidden in Dione’s eyes—a secret being carefully guarded, and specifically from her. Her heart tightened as realization began to creep in. Her eyes widened, the calm she had projected breaking into bewilderment. “Dione,” she hissed, the word edged with both worry and frustration. Dione shook her head and turned away. 

“I’m not starting this conversation,” she stated, taking a champagne flute off a passing tray and removing herself from her mother’s vicinity.

Francesca sighed, though she could feel an uncomfortable tightening in her chest, and throbbing at her temples as blood rushed to her head. She swallowed thickly as her thoughts raced to all sorts of unsavory subjects her daughter might’ve found. Ancient Tevinter texts had all sorts of terrible magic that had either been banned or outlawed over the years. She knew she was spinning herself up, but she couldn’t help but worry if the attraction to dark magic ran in Dione’s veins. She felt Dorian’s hand at her back as she tried to shake off her fear.

“She’s not like him,” Dorian said to her, and she felt a flood of everything she’d been trying to hold back crash through her. All of her fear of Dione turning out to be drawn to the type of magic her father was drawn to, what turned him against them, what he’d try to do to them. Dione was too young to remember, but every moment of their time with him was so clear before her. It settled behind her eyelids at night, and threatened to force its way from her chest in her waking hours. Being in Tevinter had only compounded her anxieties, and now she felt like she was watching her daughter waltz down the same path.

Francesca blinked away her tears. “Just tell me it doesn’t run in her blood, Dorian,” she muttered back, looking up to her friend pathetically. His expression was stoic, but she knew him well enough to see right through it. Magisters and their damned bloodlines, she thought angrily. 

“We’ll make sure she won’t be led astray,” he assured her, then reached for two champagne flutes. “Besides, you may not know Sotera, but I do,” he said as she took the flute from his hand. “She’s knowledgeable on old practices enough to know where to stop Dione, and we will also be there to prevent her from getting too close.”

She took a deep breath and toasted Dorian before downing the glass of champagne. He shook his head at her. “Your etiquette just goes out the window when you’re stressed, doesn’t it,” he muttered, receiving a pointed glare in return. “Oh, my apologies, my lady.” 

She grinned at that, remembering his earlier comment. “You can take the lady out of Nevarra...”

“Yes, but I thought Nevarra had etiquettes, no?” he retorted smugly.

She sighed. “I need to find Dione and apologize. It’s her birthday, Dorian. I’m horrible,” she grumbled as she craned her neck to look in the direction her daughter walked in.

“Don’t fret. Just give her time. She’ll come back around,” Dorian told her, then took a sip of his glass. As Francesca continued to search the party for her daughter, an attendant approached Dorian to whisper something in his ear. His eyes widened and Francesca vaguely heard him swear in tevene before he turned to give his flute to the man and take her by the shoulder. “Neve called,” he told her, and she immediately halted her search to widen her eyes at him.

“There’s another one.”

read more on AO3!

[hungry-hungry-reader]

Dione x fames (Just fluff, Fames teaching Dione how to cook) MUAHAHAHA

Dione is @thereseuwu's puppet character. He is a delightful little grape prince!

Dione has always had a soft spot for chefs. 

No, that sentence didn’t give enough justice to his love for men who can cook. How could he not swoon over someone who knew the proper sous vide technique, or how to masterfully filet a fish within just two minutes? 

Frankly, the whole thing felt like a setup. The moment Dione laid his eyes upon Chef Fames in the very first loop, he knew he needed that man. In many ways, yes. But particularly to show him a recipe or two. Cooking for the highest beings in the universe had to have demanded the very best chef the Garden could offer… Especially one who could cook humans and their essence while resisting the inner urge to sink his canines into the supple flesh with the hint of the essence. No one else could do it quite like he did. And when Dione had a chance to watch Fames hard at work? Oh, how delicious that man looked, pun most definitely intended. His precision made Dione forget, even if for just a moment, that he could’ve been the one on the receiving end of those knife skills. Not that he would’ve minded much if he knew it was for Fames. 

And even now, Dione stood off to the side in the hotel’s kitchen, watching the chef work his magic, flawlessly julienne-ing those veggies. Frankly, Dione’s constant insistence on taking the time out of his day to watch the chef prepare for the shift confused Fames. It’s not that it bothered him much… Well, it did. In the beginning, especially. But since Dione somehow always managed to procure a bottle of high-quality wine and didn’t interrupt any of the chef’s well-established procedures, Fames let his presence go. He would never admit it to anyone, of course, but he even started to find the presence of that peculiar human somewhat comforting. Almost like a lucky charm, every time Dione had a chance to swing by before the dinner service, it always went a lot smoother than any other time. 

Not even Nulla would tell Fames it was because Dione’s presence lifted the chef’s spirits.

“Hey,” Fames found himself breaking the comfortable silence of the empty kitchen without necessarily intending to… Well, now he was committed, he figured. 

Dione shook the trance off his features, nearly dropping the crown in his hands, startled by the sudden exclamation. He looked at Fames quizzically as the chef lowered his head, exasperated by the choice to speak to the human. 

Whyyyy…??? Why did he have to say anything?! Stupid, stupid, Fames!

“Uh,” Fames set the paring knife down, rolling his sleeves up, just to have something to fidget with. “C’mere, human.” 

Dione smiled and, despite every fiber of his being shrieking at him that it was a horribly dangerous idea, set his crown down and took steps toward Fames until he was right next to the chef. Fames, in turn, was surprised, not only by his own boldness and blatant disregard for his instincts to devour Dione, but also Dione’s own fearlessness. Surely, the human should know by now that everyone within the Garden finds his smell irresistibly delicious. Even if Fames tried to dismiss it by calling it a “stench”. Surely, Dione knew better… 

“You’ve been watching me work for weeks now. Let me show you the actual techniques. There’s only so much you could learn from spectating from 10 feet away, eh?” Fames fished out a second paring knife from the knife block, his eyes lacking the usual gloominess. 

Dione’s initial shock wore off as swiftly as it came upon him, his eyes lighting up with enthusiasm. 

“I’m just offering, you don’t have to say—”

“YES, PLEASE!” Dione clasped his hands in an attempt to contain myself. The prospect of learning from Fames himself excited him to no end! And it was absolutely definitely just because Fames is an amazing chef, and not because Dione was already imagining the chef wrapping his strong arms around him to better demonstrate the paring technique, no-no. 

Fames was startled by Dione’s delight, chuckling lowly.

“Well, first thing’s first, settle down. You should be calm when working with a knife. Wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself now, would we?” “Secondly, wash your hands. You’ll need both clean hands and mind for the lesson, Dione.”