#dion sees dead people
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Whumptober Day 01: but now this room is spinning while I'm just trying to fill in all the gaps
Safety Net
2628 Words; Dion Sees Ghosts AU
TW for mentions of Death, memory alteration
AO3 ver
The orphanage was loud.
It was crowded, full to the brim with children who had lost their parents to the Deluge. Full of other ghosts, all of them swarming and following their children around. Marona leaned against Lazarus for stability, the ebb and flow of all the other ghosts threatening to give her motion sickness.
Augustus was quiet, rocking slowly on the balls of his feet. He was quiet, lacking the light and life he had had before the Deluge. Marona wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him and take him away with her, back to the circus back to safety back to Lazarus—
Her hand passed though his curls with barely a reaction, like she wasn’t there at all.
And in a way, she wasn’t. She and Lazarus both died to the Deluge, both died during their protest, with nothing to show for it but a son left behind.
“Well, I suppose there’s no point continuing to protest.”
Marona barked out a startled laugh. “Lazarus!” Her husband's face remained even, blank eyes belying the humor in his tone. They’d been dead for a few days at most and Lazarus was already looking to lighten the mood.
Her gaze drifted over to Augustus. He had always been such an energetic boy, inheriting his father’s ability to keep a room alive. But now he was quiet, still reeling from the loss.
Lazarus frowned, kneeling before their son. “If only you could see us…” He muttered, his hands hovering over Augustus’ shoulders. Their son didn’t react to any of it, staring right through them.
The orphanage was cold. There were too many ghosts here, too many frigid forms filling the space. Marona wanted so badly to wrap Augustus in her arms, but that would only make things colder.
But the cold was comforting, somehow. Lazarus’ weight as he leaned against her wasn’t the same, but there was something comforting about it, about his presence.
Marona supposed that Lazarus would always be like that, even in death. Always brightening the room he was in. Always her safety net, the wall she could lean against when the world pressed in around her.
But he could never be Augustus’ safety net again. Neither of them could, now that they were dead.
+=+=+=+=+
Nearly a week later, a man came for Augustus.
It took Marona a moment to recognize him—she’d never seen this man before. He’d said his name was Ford Cruller. That was…
Marona felt her chest loosen. This man… he’d been Lucy’s lover before it all. It softened one of her worries, that he had come to get Augustus. Her son would be taken care of. That she couldn’t be the one to do so—that Augustus had lost both of his parents so quickly and viciously—irked her, but she was powerless to do anything about that.
(Powerless to do anything at all).
Marona and Lazarus followed after their son as Cruller led him away. It took hardly any effort on her part—wherever her son went, Marona knew she would follow. No matter what.
Cruller held her son’s hand firmly, pulling the boy in close. The surroundings blurred, the whole world seeming to spin—
They were standing on a dock in front of a large wooden building, shaped like an overturned turnip. Cruller was already leading Augustus along the wooden walkways onto dry ground, where a dome made of colored glass awaited.
Marona had never been here before, but she recognized it from her sister’s descriptions. The Heptadome was exactly as Lucy described it, colored glass catching the moonlight—
Moonlight?
“I don’t believe we’re in Grulovia anymore.” Lazarus commented. Marona grabbed his hand, squeezing it for reassurance.
“I know this place,” She said, “Lucy wrote to me about it. We’re in America.”
Surely, that Cruller had brought Augustus all the way to his home in America—and that was where they had to be, based on their surroundings—could only be a good thing, a sign that Cruller would take care of her son. But a sense of foreboding clung to her like frost. Something wasn’t right.
Inside the Heptadome, Augustus was sitting at the center of a machine Marona couldn’t recognize. Cruller put a hand to his temple, and—
Marona knew that psychic powers could be subtle, that battles could be waged inside the mind with none the wiser on the outside. The machine glowed and crackled, Cruller’s brow furrowed in concentration—
And then it was over. Cruller was helping Augustus down from where he’d been sitting, her son frowning up at him. Marona could not for the life of her figure out what all that was, and a glance at Lazarus confirmed that he couldn’t tell, either.
Cruller was already leading Augustus out of the building, across the wooden walkways to Lucrecia’s old turnip-shaped dwelling. He stopped just outside the building, holding Augustus’ hand firmly.
The surroundings blurred again. The starry night sky was gone, replaced by the clear blue of daytime. They were in a small field, no buildings in sight. Circus tents loomed over the area, the sounds of people moving about coming from within. And there, standing at the edge of the grounds—
Lucrecia. Bitterness and melancholy filled Marona’s throat at the sight of her sister, alive and whole. She was dressed in her old clothes, before the Deluge. She kept glancing around, as if looking for something, her lips pursed in worry.
Cruller brought Augustus over towards Lucrecia—
“Mom!” Augustus broke into a run, wrapping his arms around Lucrecia.
Marona felt her heart shatter.
Lucrecia knelt down to wrap her arms around Augustus. “My little Gussy,” she breathed, holding him tight. One of her hands was already carding through Augustus’ curls, offering the comfort that Marona could never give again.
No. No no no—
Cruller!
Marona grasped at Cruller’s shoulders with icy fingers, cursing at him. Her hands phased uselessly through the man, through the spineless little coward—but he flinched nonetheless.
Cold hands on her shoulders braced her, leading her back. Lazarus’ face was stone. Marona shuddered.
She glared at Cruller. Screaming at him would get her nowhere.
(Nothing she did could get her anywhere.)
Lazarus’ touch was a grounding force. It tethered Marona to the here and now, held her fast to the reality of the world around her.
She was dead. She couldn’t do a damn thing to affect the living.
(But at least she wasn’t alone.)
Cruller watched Lucrecia and Augustus for a moment more before leaving. Marona wanted to grab him by the shoulders and drag him right back. She wanted to scream.
She leaned back into Lazarus, instead, letting him ground her.
This was real. Marona’s sister was taking her name, her life. Was convinced that she was Marona and Augustus was her son—
This was real. This was real no matter how much Marona wished it wasn’t.
Lucrecia held Augustus in her arms and promised not to leave him again (when she’d never left him in the first place, it was Marona who was dead and gone and standing uselessly to the side—), and all Marona could do was watch.
This was real.
+=+=+=+=+
“We’ve failed as parents.” Lazarus solemnly intoned. Marona snickered.
“He’s trying his best.” She pointed out. And indeed, Augustus was trying. It was a flustered effort, but an effort nonetheless.
Lazarus huffed as their son once again lost a chance to lovestruck stammering. His eyes remained as blank as a ghost’s ever were, but Marona knew it was taking everything he had to keep a straight face. They loved their son more than anything, for all that they could do nothing but watch.
The girl came around again, and Augustus gathered his wits. “You know…” he started, only to trail off as she turned her attention onto him. Marona could see every word he’d wanted to say falling right out of his head.
The girl’s lips pursed. “Know what?”
“Cockroaches can live up to two weeks without their heads!” Augustus stammered out, his face flushed.
Lazarus laughed, loud and boisterous. The sound caught Marona off-guard—she hadn’t heard it in so long. Oh, how she had missed the sound!
Her sister’s voice cut through her reminiscing. Marona turned her attention back to her son, who was hiding his face in his hands. Lucrecia had a bemused smile on her face, even as sympathy filled her tone.
“Oh, Gussy…” Lucrecia ran her hand through Augustus’ curls, murmuring sympathy. A pang of bitterness rose up in Marona at the sight of her sister filling the role that was supposed to be hers, the role that she couldn’t fill because she was dead—
Lazarus pulled her aside. Ghosts didn’t need to breathe, but Marona acted as though she was taking a deep breath anyway. It didn’t help. But Lazarus was a constant presence against hers, a wall she could lean against when the world pressed in around her.
She couldn’t give her son advice, could do nothing but watch—
But she had Lazarus by her side, and that was enough for now.
+=+=+=+=+
Maybe the girl—Donatella, that was her name—liked random trivia. Maybe it was the natural charm that Augustus had inherited from Lazarus. Maybe it was Lucrecia’s support and advice.
Maybe it was all of those things.
Regardless of the cause, it wasn’t long before Augustus and Donatella hit it off. Wasn’t long, the months turning into a year and a half of flirting and working together, until Marona and Lazarus were watching as Augustus worked up the nerve to ask Donatella to marry him. He was so much like the boy of years prior who could barely talk to her without getting too flustered to speak. They could do nothing but watch, Lucrecia offering the support that Marona so desperately wished to offer.
“This won’t be easy,” Augustus said, “And I know it’s not a real ring.” There was so much sincerity in his eyes, so much honesty in the way that he was almost trying to talk Donatella out of it. She stared, hand over her mouth, and Augustus continued to ramble—
And then Donatella grabbed him by the shoulders, her mouth against his.
Marona’s heart ached with pride. She leaned against Lazarus, unsteady from the love and pride welling up in her. This was her son, this was the honest young man he had grown up to be. This was real.
She turned to Lazarus, leaning her forehead against his. Lazarus wrapped his arms around her, even as Lucrecia’s voice floated over to the newly-engaged couple. Any bitterness Marona could have felt at the reminder of her current state was washed away by Lazarus’ hold.
This was real. Augustus was dipping Donatella in a kiss, the two holding each other so tightly that Marona couldn’t help but recall her own engagement. This was real, and as Marona looked into Lazarus’ eyes, she couldn’t help but press her mouth to his own.
This was real, and Marona couldn’t help but be proud.
Marona rested her hand against her son’s shoulder. This was real.
+=+=+=+=+
Her grandson was looking at her.
Marona’s grandson was looking at her, wide blue eyes following her every movement like—
Like he could actually see her.
But that was ridiculous.
“Marona, dear,” Lazarus sidled up next to her, “Is something the matter? You have that look again.”
Marona wordlessly drifted to the side. Her grandson’s gaze followed her.
“I must be losing my mind.” Marona muttered. Her grandson was barely four and she was already getting dotty. The living couldn’t see ghosts—it was simple fact.
“You? Losing your mind?” Lazarus leaned against her, “Should we start checking the cupboards for it?”
Marona chuckled. Every time she had lost something when she was alive, it inevitably ended up in a cupboard or drawer somewhere. She had turned the whole caravan upside down, once, looking for her glasses—only to find them in a cupboard she swore she had already checked.
She turned her attention back to the matter at hand. “It’s…” Marona gestured towards their grandson, who had turned his attention back to where Augustus was practicing with the juggling pins. “I could swear he was watching me.” The explanation felt so strange, even with Lazarus watching her patiently, not a hint of judgment. Marona had more than enough judgment for herself.
“Stranger things have happened,” Lazarus offered, “Didn’t you have a grand-aunt who wrote about seeing ghosts?”
That was true. She and Lucy had never met her, but the woman’s journal remained even after she had passed. Was it possible, then, that her grandson was the same?
Marona shook her head. That would be extraordinarily lucky, she felt. More luck than she and Lazarus had.
“I’m probably just seeing things.” She decided. Lazarus’ brow raised in doubt, but he said nothing.
This was her reality. She and Lazarus were dead, and the dead couldn’t talk to the living. This was real.
“Why are you sad?”
Marona startled at the sound of her grandson’s voice. She looked down to find him grasping her skirt, looking up at her with wide eyes. “You’re always around Dad,” he continued, oblivious to the way Marona’s heart threatened to leap out of her incorporeal chest, “and Dad’s fun to be around! But you always look so sad.”
This was real. Her grandson was looking at her, could see her—
Marona kneeled down to look her grandson in the eyes. “Your dad makes me very happy,” She replied, “I’m only sad because he can’t see me.”
She could tell him. She could tell him that the curse wasn’t real, that his Nona wasn’t his Nona and that the ghost kneeling before him was his real grandmother. She could tell him so many things, words she wanted to say to Augustus but couldn’t because he was alive and she was dead—
Marona wrapped cold arms around her grandson. There were so many things she could tell him. So many things she should tell him.
She felt Lazarus’ presence behind her. “Dear…”
Her grandson was four. He didn’t need that burden, didn’t need to have his head filled with the worries of a dead woman. He was too young. It wasn’t her place.
Marona looked at her grandson. He looked so much like Augustus, yet he had Donatella’s nose and eyes. Everything he represented, every hope she had that her family would turn out alright and continue to grow—
She couldn’t tell him. Not at this age.
But he could still see her, and that gave her a sense of hope. Maybe she wasn’t so utterly powerless.
This was real. Marona and Lazarus were dead, unable to interact with the living, and yet her grandson could still see her, for all that the thought seemed so impossible. This was real.
+=+=+=+=+
Her grandson wasn’t looking at her.
Marona’s grandson wouldn’t look at her, actively ignoring the Deluge victims that followed Lucrecia around.
He could see her, and yet—
He shivered when they pressed too close, curled in on himself as though it might keep the cold at bay. He wouldn’t talk to any of them, would ignore them if they tried and run away if they pushed.
Marona couldn’t say she didn’t understand why. Of the drowned following her sister that were coherent, very few had anything nice to say about the family they followed. Perhaps, if she and Lazarus did more, if she had been there when her grandson got trapped between the crates instead of cooing over the new baby—
Her grandson could see her, and she was still powerless.
Lazarus’ hand slipped into hers. Resignation weighed heavy on his face. There were no jokes, this time—just the comfort he could offer as her husband and safety net.
They would make do. They’d have to.
#whumptober2023#no.1#safety net#psychonauts#zaz writes#death tw#death mention tw#memory alteration tw#marona aquato#lazarus aquato#augustus aquato#lucrecia mux#ford cruller#dion sees dead people#he appears in this piece but he's never mentioned by name lmao#anyway 💅 MARONA POV LET'S GOOOOOOOO#tfw you're dead and gone so you can't do anything but watch as your son and sister's memories are altered#and can only watch them go about their lives#unable to do anything for them#bc you're dead#and then the one person who can see you#instead of acknowledging that there's addition to be done just shoves the calculator off the table#bc he's dion fucking aquato; master of repression
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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
#leon kennedy#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x reader#leon s kennedy x reader#leon kennedy smut#leon kennedy x reader smut#vampire!leon kennedy#plagas!leon kennedy#gigabyte writes#he comes alive
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Hope you don't mind Dion or Jeremy reacting to their s/o getting kidnapped. I just want to see the world burns lol
DION AGRICHE, JEREMY AGRICHE (SEPARATE) ⍣ GENDER-NEUTRAL READER
synopsis. his reaction to you getting kidnapped.
DION is eerily calm - at least on the outside - when he hears the news of your kidnapping from your bodyguard, johann. roxana watches him closely, as if expecting her half-brother to kill him for failing to protect you, and raises an eyebrow when dion approaches him.
he surprises johann by kneeling down to his level, and the bodyguard trembles like a leaf, fearing his impending doom. it's no secret that dion favours you a lot, and if he finds even a tiny bruise on your delicate skin, he's already walking away with the tip of his sword dragging across the floor.
kidnapping you - in other words, stealing what's his - is enough to anger dion, although it doesn't show on his expression. but he's even angrier at johann for failing to do his simple job of keeping you safe.
grabbing his jaw roughly, dion asks him, "what did they look like?" his expression is unreadable, and that only scares johann further. he's struggling to answer because truthfully, he doesn't know. one moment you were there, and the next you were gone. his head would surely roll if he gives dion that answer.
dion grows impatient and as he stands up, raising his sword to behead johann, roxana quickly stops him and says that she knows the identities of the people who had kidnapped you and where you're kept thanks to her butterflies. he'd demand her to tell him everything, his desperation to have you back in his arms becoming evident.
he doesn't need a detailed plan to rescue you; he'll do what he usually does and make it rain blood. as he throws his black cloak over his head, he strides out of the agriche residence with his sword in hand, ready to make your kidnappers reap what they had sown. oh, he'll make them regret kidnapping his beloved butterfly.
JEREMY is beyond pissed. he's furiously turning his entire room upside down, smashing whatever his hands come across on the floor as he yells at your poor bodyguard for being useless and incompetent. he returned to the manor hoping to spend some quality time in your embrace, only to be told that some fools had kidnapped you. not an ideal welcome home greeting.
"well, don't just stand there! organise a search party and find (y/n) right now! if i find even a tiny scratch on their body, i'll turn you all into demon chow!" he shouts. his anger is clouding his judgement, and jeremy proceeds to punch the wall in frustration. just who decided to ruin his day by taking advantage of his absence to kidnap you?
after taking deep breaths, he manages to calm down slightly. he's not going to accept this. you had promised to stay by his side no matter what, and in return he had promised to protect you... he grits his teeth. you both can still keep your promises, and he's determined to fulfill his by saving you himself.
before johann could scramble out of his room, jeremy clamps a hand down on his shoulder. "you stay here. i'll handle this myself," he says before shoving the bodyguard aside to storm into the hallway. he'd ask a few of his half-siblings for help, and convincing them is easy; he only needs to promise them that they can kill your kidnappers and take whatever they like from the corpses, whether it'd be jewels, trinkets, their nails or even their eyeballs...
jeremy is already grinning sinisterly at the thought of giving hell to your kidnappers. they'd be wishing they were dead by the time he's done mutilating their bodies beyond recognition, and his precious angel will be safe and sound again.
"no one takes (y/n) from me and gets away with it," he mutters.
#loveletters—!#manhwa x reader#the way to protect the female lead's older brother#roxana#dion agriche#dion agriche x reader#jeremy agriche#jeremy agriche x reader#headcanons#gender neutral reader
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Hello! Are requests open? Can you do more lant agriche x reader pls 😭😭😭
COLD HANDS AND A HARDENED GLARE.
synopsis ; the cruel head of the black agrece, a menacing man, truly, but he was nothing more than a loving grandfather to his grandchild.
tw/cw ; lant agrece in general, childbirth, death.
letter from the stars ; i made these into a half headcannons- half oneshot and made it platonic since you didn't specify what kind of relationship you wanted lant to have with reader, so i hope you don't mind it!!
LANT AGRECE, a man who's said to not care about anything but himself, a man who's the head of the black agrece, a monster in many people's eyes, but to you? he was just a peculiar and strange grandfather.
the duke thought he wouldn't care about his family, simply using them to his benefits and wants, until his eldest son, dion, had a child with his now-dead wife, with the child thankfully ending up healthy.
but, just for the sake of it and to keep his son in check, he had come unannounced to his grandchild's nursery to see what all the fuss is about when it came to the newborn, as he heard that the newborn was oddly calm, rarely crying or making noise, instead just either staying quiet or sleeping. once he had arrived at the nursery, he ushered the maids and nanny out, wanting to be alone with the child for until he left.
after his meeting with the newborn, it's been said and known that the head of the black agrece would then on often visit his grandchild, usually having a gift for them.
that revelation somewhat shook the other agrece members, but mostly dion, jeremy, and roxana. what did the newborn do to make the head like them so much? they'll unfortunately never get to find out, though.
once the new addition of the family turned old enough, they'd soon enough constantly find themselves stay beside their grandfather's side during meetings, going as far as to join the banquets he went to with their father, aunt, and uncle.
everywhere the head of the black agrece went you would too, it was almost if he gained a shadow that mimicked everything he did. it was almost terrifying to think that the young child could resemble the head that much, even though only in behavior.
it's not unknown that he favored you more than his children, teaching you everything he knew from a young age, as a way for you to both bond and to raise you as a possibly fitting future head if dion ever dies prematurely.
#manhwa#manhwa x reader#manhwaxreader#cw death#tw death#twtptflob x reader#twtptflob#lant agriche#lant agrece#platonic manhwa#tw childbirth#cw childbirth#platonic x reader#platonic headcanons#{astral letters from beyond?}— fanfiction.#this is actually kinda sucky.. I did a pretty bad job on this-sorry!!! </3
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here with me
joel miller x reader
summary: you've had better days, but as long as he's with you, you wouldn't ask to be anywhere else.
warnings: age gap (reader is 34), fluff, used both game/show Joel for inspo.
a/n: hope u guys like this<3
°°°
The car tank was gonna run out sooner or later. It was a bit nerve-wrecking that it had to happen around an abandoned neighbourhood.
Your feet are eating you up, the pain shooting up at the sole. Joel seems to feel the same way as he decides to search an abandoned mansion. You roll your eyes at his choice of house. "You couldn't have picked anything more lowkey?"
"What can I say, I'm a man of taste." He replied nonchalantly.
You scan the kitchen and laid eyes on the wrapping papers and finished Cheetos package.
"Someone was here, Joel." You called out, picking up the wrappings and waving it up for him to see. He nods and keeps searching.
"That's either a good thing or a bad thing, keep looking out." He orders. You sighs lowly before heading upstairs. The floor was wooden, smoothed out, and as wrecked as the house looked like, you can see the potential, with everything cleaned up a bit, a little redecorating going on.
You eye the large grandfather clock hanging on the wall, somehow still surviving despite the other furnitures destroyed. Though pretty, it doesn't work anymore unfortunately.
As you glance next to the wall, empty picture frames that hang next to the clock makes you frown.
The owner must've taken them all out when the pandemic started.
You continue walking until you reach the first room with it's door closed. You kick it open, gun ready to aim and shoot.
You're met with an empty room as it looks, entering inside, you study the large master bedroom, the bed was dust filled, as is the table by it's side.
You pull open the closet inside, met with more emptiness, you quickly move to look behind, Cursing loudly at the sudden view of a rotten dead infected, attached to the wall. Your face pulls in disgust and you immediately walk out, suddenly feeling more aware and on guard as you search the other rooms.
Joel's voice fills loudly as it echoes throughout the whole house. "You wouldn't believe this, these stupid rich people be leaving behind the wrong things."
You hummed softly, hopping down the two way big staircase, feeling like you're in one of those movies.
"Oh yeah, I know, they even left behind some some of these sick ass Celine Dion CDs." You laughed out making him snort.
"Well, that'll go well in the car ride, now that we have the oil for car tank." He had a small smile as he lifts up the two large bottles of car oil and placed them at the broken dinner table.
Your eyes wide at the sight before you looked up to him and grinned. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go." You ask hastily.
He shook his head to your suprised. "You and I both need rest. We'll stay the night here, and drive back tomorrow, Were getting closer to Jackson anyways, so no fuss."
"Seriously?" "Seriously." He moved to go upstairs but you called out immediately. "Dead infected occupy the rooms! They're rotting on the walls, but still not a nice view to sleep to I guess."
He keeps walking up and you watch him enter each room.
Reaching the last one, he exits holding up two large comforters and a long blanket. You nod your head subtly understanding his actions.
"Dust them out a bit, can't risk you dying of asthma or something." He teased as he passes you a comforter.
"That was one time, the room was basically a storage box." You mumbled, annoyed.
You open the comforter wide before waving it up and down to removed the dust, coughing loudly. "There ya go."
You lay your comforter down next to his and sits down on it, letting your body enjoy the rest while it could.
Joel instead, walks towards the fireplace ahead of you. "Wonder if this still works." He voices out.
You watch him from where you're sitting and enjoy the view. "Probably not."
He kneels down in front of it and checks the wire for the electronic starter of the fireplace.
After a few minutes of clicking and pulling wires, the fire lights up. You cheer loudly at the sight and he turns his head back to look at you, a small rare smile on his face.
°°°
That evening you slept easily on the comforter until night came. Your begrudgingly open you eyes to the sight of Joel bending down by the kitchen cabinets.
You sit up and run your tired eyes as you continue to eye his actions. "What are you doing?" You mumbled at him. He doesn't say anything at first, but then you hear a congratulatory 'aha'.
He walks up to you with a satisfied smile, holding two mugs in his hands. He gently sits back down next to you, passing the mug in your hands.
"What's this?" You asks. There was nothing inside, you frown at the mug and look back at him with an amused expression.
"It's a birthday present." He spoke smiling.
Your breath hitches and you lose yourself in your head for a second. You couldn't even remember the date today.
You stare at him and blinked a few times. "How do you know it's my birthday?"
He shrugs. "I keep up with time." He says simply. "How old are you now? 40?" He asks teasingly. "34, I'm almost as old as you."
He actually laughs and places his own mug next to him. "Now I'm really sure you're just an ass kisser."
You let out a short laugh before studying the mug. Your eyes widen excitedly when you realize the mug had cat ears.
"Oh it's a cat mug!" You exclaimed. You lifted it to show Joel, but he already knows of course.
He shoots up and reach out for his backpack. "Oh there's one more thing-" He pulls out an ukulele. "-Im more of a guitar person, but this will work."
You burst out a laugh and had to clamp your mouth shut when he sends a glare your way.
"Sorry I just- I don't understand why you'd have a whole ukulele in your backpack."
He snorts and shook his head. "Not mine, one of them rich fuckers got it in their room, if it fits in the bag, then it fits."
You laugh again at his antics and shook your head. "Okay then mister country star, go at it." You joke, nodding your head at the ukulele.
"You gotta lie down, I'm supposed to be serenading you." He jokes as he starts strumming.
You lay againts the worn out comforter and watch as his face changes into a focused frowning image as he plucks the strings into a simple beautiful melody.
When he starts singing, his deep voice catches you off guard, but you were pleased. You never knew someone so brutal was capable of such tender acts.
You wouldn't say being a world post apocalypse where a simple bite can turn you into a flesh eating monster didn't suck, but you were glad that out of all the people you've met in 20 years, He stayed.
When your eyes starts feeling heavy, and your mind turns dizzy, you're still awake enough to feel him cover you with the blanket before sliding under it too, pulling you into his chest before tucking your head under his chin.
"Happy birthday baby."
#joel tlou#joel miller x reader#joel miller#the last of us hbo#the last of us x reader#tlou x reader#tlou#the last of us
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WHEN I SAW THE MSSG I THOUGHT I SENT ONE
ok so like, what if after agriche was burned down, you and dion fled somewhere and he started to show emotion?Like u both have a stable life & r set for the rest of your days but what would that be like seeing him being 'normal'
(bby, caring dion> daddy, sadistic dion || also kinda OOC|| Personal headcanons)
Dion X Reader:
But I don't need the comfort of any lies
✟ You were Dion's friend and you were known well in the family for being cruel, ruthless and being the favourite of Lant even though you weren't his, when they found out you both were dating, Lant wanted to have Dion be the next head because he will have you as his wife.
✟ Except, this didn't happen, as you both began dating, Dion began to grow restless and started to be more emotional and merciful, and later on Roxanne fell in love and ran away with her pet, who happened to be Cassiss Pedelian, from the Blue Pedelian family.
✟ As this happened the family fell, when you and Dion also ran away with some of the largest riches in the family, you both were living out on the outskirts of the empire ion a cottage you owned as a result of making your own money in secret.
✟ Sooner or later, you both also fled the cottage upon hearing of the fall of the Black Agriches, you both worried sick of the only people you both cared about; a few certain servants, who became close to you and Dion.
✟ As you both now near a forest, and a bay, living in a minimalist life, though it had been hard you both were doing pretty well, doing work as bookshop owners and bakers and on occasions as assassins for both of your exceptional skills in killing and hiding.
✟ You both ended up three cats and a weird tiny glass frog Dion became emotionally attached to, whom the cats also got emotionally attached. You often have to look after your four kids now, including Dion, as the glass frog named "Blom" by your beloved husband just calmly sits in his glass container watching you scold your husband and three cats.
✟ Oh Yeah! You both got married, by a few families and couples who lived near you both, whom you both made a companionship with. It was a small wedding with you wearing the prettiest dress you had brought with you and amazing desserts and food made by you, Dion and your neighbours.
✟ I personally headcanon that you both live at a place where it would rain often, and so you and your lovely neighbourly ladies would dance with your husbands/ wives in the rain and often sing songs with them too, while making someone will make food and treats for everyone.
✟ You also near a lake btw! You and Dion often play fight and constantly end up swimming away from each-other in the lake, while your cats look at you both with slight concern, until they see you laughing then they join you!
✟ Moving to your cats, you have a grey cat with green eyes, one white with grey eyes and one black with maroonish almost red eyes, whom you think looks a lot like Dion. The grey cat is named moon, the white one Vanilla and the black one is named bamboo, curtsy of your darling husband....
✟ He surprisingly makes good food and his drinks, shakes or anything like that are god-tier, they're absolutely amazing. You'd often find him in the kitchen super early in the morning making you both breakfast, while your three cats are sitting lapping at the pieces of meat he put for them in tiny ceramic dishes he made himself with the help of one of your old neighbours. He's very proud of them.
✟ But you also find him crying his eyes out as well, every since he left the manor, he's been showing more of his emotions than he ever has, and now you actually know what he feels, he is absolutely crushed at the thought of his mother dead, but he always uses one of the cats as his napkin wiping his nose and eyes on their fur while they squeal out for you, their darling mother.
✟ He also smiles a lot, and it's not his blood-thirsty smile he sued to have in front of his toys, but a heart-warming smile and a genuine smile, you wouldn't be able to see if you both were still at the manor. He misses his mother as she would though be kinda mean, Maria loved him in private, when she would often whisper that she finds him the prettiest.
✟ Oh, yeah! You ended up finding Sierra, Maria, Jeremy, Roxanne and her husband, Cassiss. You both were dancing one morning, when you got a knock on your door, thinking it was one of your neighbours asking for something they ran out of, you opened the door just to find everyone smiling with tears in their eyes, as they ran to hug you while Maria immediately ran to Dion to grab him down in a hug while she kissed his forehead, where once Dion realised what happened started crying and sniffling while hiding in his mother's jacket.
✟ As you had a reunion, Sierra explained how she tracked you down and how she helped Jeremy and Maria escape with her to your cabin you showed to her in case she ever got too overwhelmed and wants to escape everything. They explained who everyone was dead, including Lant, Charlotte, Grizelda and Fonataine and many other family members and servants.
✟ Cassiss's family had taken Roxanne as their daughter\sister-in-law and they both were to get married soon and wanted to invite you and Dion to their wedding. As you Maria, Sierra and Cassis were having a conversation while petting your cats, Dion, Roxanne and Jeremy were bickering about somethings and how Jeremy was dating one of your and Dion's trusted friends who used to be both of your servant.
✟ In the end it turned a bit better than you both expected, especially when he Roxanne and Jeremy formed a connection of siblings and Sierra and Maria moved along with Jeremy and his fiancee moved next door to you and Roxanne moved though a bit far from your house, still closer to you both.
#navi⌗writes⌗#twtptflob#manhwa x reader#domestic headcanons#cottage living#manhwa fanart#manhwa headcanons#manhwas#the way to protect the female lead's older brother x reader#twtptflob x reader#x reader#dion agriche#dion agriche x reader#the way to protect the female lead's older brother#sierra agriche#maria agriche#jeremy agriche#roxanna agriche#roxanna agriche x cassiss pedelian#cassis#cassis pedelian#The Way To Protect The Female Lead's Older Brother X Reader#The Way To Protect The Female Lead's Older Brother x you#the way to protect the female lead's older brother x y/n#x y/n#dion agriche x y/n headcanons#dion agriche x you#dion x reader
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FFXVI Spoliers | Analysis of Terence's personality
because this character has very little screen time but he’s one of the few persons that Dion cares and loves.
This is all based on ENG dub though.
Tent scene: Terence brings a report to Dion. When Dion looks very worried about his father and is about to ask Terence, he was quick to answer before Dion even finished asking. Actually, this is the scene that makes me start to think that these two have something going on, either close friends or childhood friends or more than that. I mean Terence dared to speak before the prince finished his line lol. It shows that even as a lover, Terence surely respects Dion as his prince. He draws the line, but that line may not be clear cut. If Dion needs support from his lover not his subordinate, Terence can cross that line for him.
Kiss Scene: You can see that Terence reaches out his hand to touch Dion's waist very smoothly like he knows since forever that’s his place to grab oh gawd. But when the kiss’s over, he clings to Dion’s waist and refuses to let go until Dion pulls Terence's hand out himself. From this scene, Terence clearly (and somewhat outright intensely) wants to show his love, and does not want to lose Dion. He might be the one who gets jealous easily.
Scene after meeting Joshua: Dion asks Terence if he believes in him. Terence was about to say "I.." (about to tell his feelings), but closed his eyes and again replied, "We Dragoons...", confirming that Terence had somewhat made the line between love and duty so blurry.
Farewell scene:
(1) Dion - When talking about a medicine girl, Dion didn't even meet Terence’s eyes and kept talking over the shoulder with him, until Terence had to pull his shoulders so Dion could face him directly. It shows that Dion may not be good at expressing his personal/romantic feelings (including making facial expressions/trying not to show weakness which apparently showed when he held back his tears), but when Terence left, It’s Dion who turned and looked at Terence’s back longingly.
(2) Terence - oh my how cute it is he's taller than Dion even though he bent his knees. Terence pulled Dion's shoulder to talk to him directly, stripped of the prince-container rank thingy and called Dion by name, and cried. He no longer hides his feelings. At this time, Terence was desperate to not leave Dion and he might have known that Dion wanted to break up with him. Still, Terence never disobeys Dion's orders and Dion knew this. His act of pushing Dion and walking away without turning back doesn't mean he stops loving Dion, but it shows that he is very straightforward and determined to follow his prince’s orders though it damn hurts.
Sometimes I think that even though Dion isn't dead (Please don't die, please have Dion episode in the DLC.) Both of them may not still get back together. Dion must have been overwhelmed by his own guilt, probably thinking that he didn't deserve love from anyone (seriously, nobody blames you. Your dragoon troops are loyal to you. The people didn't blame you. Your cute husband still loves you. The whole guilt is stuck in your edgy dragoon brain).
#character analysis#ffxvi spoilers#ff16 spoilers#ffxvi#final fantasy 16#dion lesage#terence#i shipped them so hard#wait can you call it a ship when it's canon?#JP already has a ship name and it's#teredio
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400 request. Can I get a happy ending with Clive? Thank you!
Thank you so much for your request! <3 I hope you enjoy x
Promises
Clive Rosfield x fem reader, established relationship
Major endgame spoilers!
1,140 words
From dawn to dusk, day after day from when Origin fell from the sky, you've waited on the pier, keeping your eyes on the horizon. It's better to stay in the one place, you reason, though it's hard. He could be hurt, convalescing somewhere until he's well enough to travel. And now that the stolas magic is gone, it’s going to take far longer to send word places and receive it back - if you left the Hideaway in search, he could return in your absence.
So you stay, even though your heart aches.
There are pity-filled glances from all directions. You move to the side to allow the Cursebreakers to board the skiff heading over to the mainland. They’re away to help people adjust to the new age – how to cope without the Mothercrystals providing for them any longer.
"I'm not sure this is healthy, like." Gav comments, a bowl of stew in hand. Everyone seems to constantly bring you sustenance – they must have a rota, Tarja, Jill, Otto, Gav - as if you could fill the gnawing hole within with food. "He-"
"Is coming back." You cut him off firmly, taking the offered bowl. "Clive promised he’s coming back. I just need to be patient."
Gav starts another protest but then hesitates, swallowing his rebuttal altogether. There’s a further pause as he scans the horizon, placing his hands on his hips. "How long are you going to wait like this?"
You blow on a spoonful of the stew. "As long as it takes."
Sleep has been difficult. His smell lingers on the sheets – a combination of musk, ash and just something that is uniquely Clive. You could return to your bunk but it doesn’t seem right. When you close your eyes and you’re somewhere in the between of being awake and asleep, you can almost pretend you've buried your face in his side, rather than his pillow.
On the sixth day, a small sail boat appears on the horizon near dusk, or at least you think that’s what it is. You'd been staring most of the day and there’s a worry that it could be a mirage conjured from wishful thinking after staring so hard at nothing for hours. Otto had lent you a spyglass, though somewhat reluctantly – should he be encouraging this behaviour? You knew they all thought you were in the depths of grief, deluding yourself sitting out here, day after day.
But Clive had promised, and he'd never broken a promise before, so why should you think he’d start now?
You hold up the spyglass to your eye with a shaky hand, trying to steady it so you can actually look, but it’s no use. The boat has dipped off the horizon, or perhaps it wasn’t there at all.
You rub your eyes as you walk slowly up the pier – you need sleep.
--
It takes a while for sleep to come, but you must’ve drifted off eventually because something wet nuzzles at your cheek, proceeding to lick you across your face relentlessly.
“What is it, Torgal?” Your voice is heavy with sleep as you reluctantly open your eyes. It was one of the more solid sleeps you’d had in a while, but the wolf won’t have woken you without purpose.
Torgal barks once, his tail wagging from side to side, and he trots over to the door. You get to your feet – it’s still the dead of night, but he must sense something. You dress quickly to protect yourself against the chill and follow the wolf as he leads you to the lift and down towards the end of the dock. He sits down, tail banging against the planks, and howls into the sky.
As if in response, a sail boat – the same from earlier that day? – emerges from the mist and illuminated by the moon’s warm glow you can see the lone figure that steers it without an eyeglass.
Clive.
Your heart skips a beat as it sinks in – no Joshua, no Dion.
But it is Clive.
The boat collides into the pier with a thud and he flings a rope out to secure the vessel. You bend down and grab it in shaking hands, looping it around the cleat in a knot that Obolus would’ve raised a judgemental eyebrow at, but it’ll hold and that’s all that matters.
You don’t wait for him to get off the boat - you can’t - instead jumping from the dock, causing the vessel to rock violently side to side in your enthusiasm as you land, truly putting your knot to the test, but how could you stand there? You cup his face, your hands still shaking from adrenaline. You can tell he’s weary, dark circles under his eyes but he’s here, he’s real.
“I told them you were coming back.” Your voice breaks, the tears you’ve held in for days finally flowing down your cheeks. “I told them.”
“I made you a promise, my lady.” His voice is thick as he holds in his own tears.
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you into his chest, though something feels off about the embrace. There isn’t much time to pinpoint what exactly, as Torgal jumps into the boat and knocks you both down, happily licking his master’s face.
“Hello, boy.” He laughs, breathlessly, patting the wolf hound on the head. “I’m sorry to have kept the both of you waiting.”
Torgal barks happily in acknowledgement, before backing up and jumping back onto the pier. It’s as if he knows the two of you need this moment alone.
Clive raises a hand to caress your face then, wiping away some tears with his thumb. You lean down and kiss him - soft, frantic kisses, tanged with salt. His arm wraps around your waist, but something cold and hard rests on your back instead of a warm palm and you sit up in realisation. He sits up slowly after you, holding the limb in front of his chest.
“Oh, my darling…” You touch his petrified fingers delicately, afraid that they may break. “Does it hurt?”
“No. It spread no further than my elbow, though it should’ve.” He sounds almost bitter.
“Don’t say that.”
“It should have, for the amount of power I wielded… But all I could think about was what I promised you, my lady. I’m sorry it took me so long to return to you – a row boat was no longer in question.” He jokes, but it doesn’t sound sincere. He hesitates, staring at his hand, doubt in his voice. “Will… Will you still have me?”
“Always…” You take both of his hands in yours, no hesitation. “..and in all ways, Clive. I love you.”
He leans his forehead against yours. “As do I, my darling one. I love you – always, and in all ways.”
--
Comments, likes and reblogs make my whole day x
Masterlist . Requests welcome . Ko-fi
#ghostdogwrites#final fantasy xvi#clive rosfield#clive rosfield x reader#clive rosfield x you#clive rosfield fluff#ffxvi x reader
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I know that no one follows me for final fantasy stuff, but I need to write out my thoughts/interpretation the Final Fantasy XVI ending, and tumblr allows for good spoiler protection, so forgive my indulgence.
SPOILERS AHEAD, DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU'VE BEAT FFXVI
Okay. Now, as much as I hate it, I think Dion is definitely dead, or meant to have died. While there's no question in my mind that this is the game's intent, the fate of any of the three who faced Ultima can be easily amended with enough will (hehe) or copium. We only see Dion falling, we don't see him actually die, so why can't Dion be to FFXVI what Shepard is to Mass Effect 3? Joshua (if he lived), or Terence, or Medicine Girl, can be there searching for him in the rubble, find him, heal him. But yes, for me personally this is a pure copium interpretation none-the-less.
As for Clive, I also think he is definitely dead. He states that Ultima's power was too much for his vessel body in the end, and we see the curse taking him on the beach, spreading from his fingertips to his entire hand within seconds. We also see Metia fading, which indicates Clive's death.
The main argument I see for Clive's survival is that in the final Jill quest, she says that no matter how bad the night is, the dawn will always come, as will Clive. And then when Jill is crying, she sees the dawn come, and stops crying. However, I think that's just her finding hope in the darkness, and through her grief, taking comfort in the knowledge that Clive did indeed save the world so that a new dawn would always come.
This also fits with the lyrics of the song that play at the end, My Star, which go:
For your flame still burns inside me deep within my heart
Showing me, a new tomorrow, never too far
And when I cannot bear the pain, I look up to the sky and pray
And though our night is over you shall always remain, forever, my treasure, my star
Yeah, those lyrics definitely say "Clive is dead" to me, sadly. I think Clive's fate is of course debatable, and I see a lot of people convinced that he survived. But, for me, as much as I wish he did, I just don't think he lived.
Now, finally, to Joshua, the most complicated one. The biggest piece of evidence for Joshua's survival is THE BOOK. Final Fantasy, written by Joshua Rosfield. A lot of people think that Clive wrote the book under Joshua's name due to the quill that Harpocrates gave to him, but... why? That makes no sense to me. If they wanted to show that Clive survived and wrote the book, the book would have just had Clive's byline. Let's not forget that Harpocrates also said that Joshua is a gifted writer, so Harpocrates' crumbs don't lead only to Clive as the author.
There's also the interpretation that Clive/Jill had a son named Joshua who wrote the book. While more plausible to me and also a sweet interpretation, it still seems like quite a big reach. Or, perhaps Joshua had already been writing the book while he was alive, and Clive finished/published it? But when Harpocrates tells Clive that Joshua would be a good writer (which he also says to Clive to keep us all confused, lulz), it's implied that there really isn't time for anyone to be writing, but maybe after Ultima's defeat it's the pen they could turn to.
So, of all the explanations for the book, I think that Joshua surviving and writing it is the most likely, and the reason for that being shown at the end when it easily didn't have to be shown at all. And let's also not forget that the name Joshua derives from Yeshua, the Hebrew name for Jesus. Jesus and the Phoenix, these are both figures who rise again.
But, that of course begets the problem of how, actually, did he survive when he was most definitely dead? Joshua even explicitly says in an earlier scene that the Phoenix can mend flesh, but not restore a spirit. Yet, the difference from then and the end is that when Clive healed Joshua, he was using the power he absorbed from Ultima, the power of a God. We know this because after Clive heals Joshua, he states that his body wasn't enough to be able to handle Ultima's power after all. And if Ultima's power wasn't important narratively, then Clive could have healed Joshua's flesh once he absorbed the Phoenix's power, rather than this act occurring after. Besides, whatever he did to Joshua must have utilized a great deal of power, not just the power of simple healing/mending flesh, to have been too much for his vessel body. And while the powers of the Phoenix can't restore a spirit on their own, we really don't know what they would be capable of in conjunction with Ultima's power.
Even before this, we know that Joshua's power earlier went to bounds that it should not have been able to when he reached Clive, who was trapped in Ultima's nightmare realm. Ultima says something like, "You shouldn't have the power to do this. How is this possible? This is the power of creation," (paraphrase). I think that Joshua and Clive's powers, when fueled by their will, determination, and brotherly love, are capable of stretching beyond any normal bounds. There's no telling what they'd be capable of when combined with Ultima's power. Therefore, as Clive cycles through the memories of his brother and burns with the will for the power to heal him, Clive was able to actually revive Joshua at the end.
My last though on Joshua surviving is not based on any actual game events/lore/evidence, so might perhaps be more copium fueled, but I think it also makes more sense for Clive's story arc. The game begins with him (nearly) killing his brother, and a full loop would end with him saving him. Final Fantasy XVI is after all, more than anything, a story of brotherly love. For Clive's final act to be to save his brother and fulfill his duty as Joshua's shield, is a much more satisfying and complete story and character arc imo.
Anyway, those are just my thoughts. Like I said, it's really up to interpretation which, if any of those three, might have survived. The only thing that would change that would be if we got a post-game DLC that confirmed things one way or another. But, for now, this is what makes the most sense to me, for better or worse.
#ffxvi#final fantasy xvi#ff16#final fantasy 16#spoilers#seriously big ending spoilers#joshua rosfield#clive rosfield#dion lesage
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The Abhorrent Mother
***Major Spoilers for Final Fantasy XVI***
Calling Anabella the "devil" or a "bitch" sounds like a term of endearment rather than an insult. There are no words that accurately embody this woman. In my book, she wins the award for the most evil villainess which shows just how well-written she was! But it did get me thinking...in addition to the countless atrocities she committed, could it also be because she shatters the stereotype of the sacrificing and caring mother? Do we perceive her as more evil because of that?
In many cultures and religions, mothers are depicted as being soft, feminine, caring, unconditionally loving, and sacrificing for the betterment of their children and families. The character archetype of an "evil father" exists but that typically is more well-received.
When it comes to Anabella, it's as if she is the ultimate sacrilege of the pregnant mother who carries, gives birth, and loves her children dearly. Normally, with her attitude, we expect the classic "evil stepmother" archetype in full blossom. Clearly that is not the case here. I recall how some folks in the FFXVI discussion forums were waiting for the big reveal that she was indeed NOT Clive and/or Joshua's mother - because how could someone so evil give birth to two righteous sons? Turns out nope - she was, indeed, their biological mother through the bitter end!
If she was just an evil stepmother, that would have been incredibly commonplace and trite - making her their actual mother made her all the more impactful. Afterall, evil comes in all forms.
I also read that a few people had hoped she would get a redemption arc. I'm glad she didn't. And I'm glad that her and Clive never reconciled. She was too far gone and the years of verbal and emotional abuse could not be forgiven by Clive, Jill, and others. She betrayed her family, her nation, her people and started a chain reaction that altered history all to obtain more power, more riches, and an "upgrade" to her future royal bloodline.
When Bahamut/Dion killed the Emperor, sacked Twinside, and killed Olivier, all that she had built was ripped from her within minutes. (Also, notice how she did not even think to herself 'Hmm....why is there no blood or body?' after Olivier dissolved away into thin air upon being stabbed through. )
At her end, she had nothing left but to face the consequences of her actions. And I could only imagine that seeing her beloved Joshua whom she thought was dead drove the fear of some divine retribution right into her.
Personally that scene really hurt to watch - how Joshua was the last person to offer her his hand when no one else would. But that speaks more to who he is as a person. To be fair, the last time he saw his mother was when he was 10 years old and he was the one person she showed a shred of decency albeit because he was the Phoenix. Otherwise, she would have tossed him aside like she did Clive.
When she frantically swiped her blade at him and cut him in her madness, I thought, "Yep...time for her to go! How dare she hurt our beloved birb?!"I also thought it fitting that in the moment of escaping accountability, she died by her own hand. It was heartbreaking to see Joshua witness yet another parent's death right before his eyes. Clive and Jill looked away in pity for her.
She could have been the mother of not one but two Dominants and be remembered in history for that. But she threw away her family happily with both hands.
The lesson here - "some of the most poisonous people to walk the earth come in the form of family." Sure, people do deserve forgiveness depending on what their actions were but there are rare times when a so-called redemption arc is not earned and not deserved.
One final lesson is that as a child, you have the power to be different from a horrible parent and that fact is glorious.
#ff16#ffxvi#final fantasy 16#final fantasy xvi#ff16 joshua#ffxvi joshua#joshua rosfield#anabella rosfield#ffxvi spoilers#ff16 spoilers#final fantasy xvi spoilers
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Whumptober Day 08: i've got soul, but i'm not a soldier
Outnumbered
2083 Words; Dion Sees Ghosts AU
TW for gore, dead bodies, discussions of death, implied death of a child
AO3 ver
Maybe Dion shouldn’t have wandered out this far.
He never intended to get very far out—he just needed some space for a couple hours. A quick walk out into the woods—that was all.
An hour ago, Dion had had the thought that maybe if he wandered far enough, he could find the Green Needle Gulch. It was just a small thought, a silly little notion of visiting his Nona that would probably never bear fruit—he’d heard Raz talking about how the forest had weird fo—psychic stuff in it to keep the Gulch hidden. Dion wasn’t going to wander deep enough to get lost, let alone find the Gulch.
Well, he had certainly planned on not getting lost. He’d barely gone into the trees at all! How was he unable to retrace his steps?
And yet, despite all of his plans to keep the treeline in view, he was utterly, completely, lost. The treeline was nowhere in sight—just more trees everywhere he looked.
“Ugh, screw this.” Dion muttered, grabbing onto the nearest tree. He hauled himself up, the bark rough under his palms, until he could see the sky again. A quick look and—there! Dion could see the rock face with the waterrise. It wasn’t as far as he’d feared.
He climbed back down, and headed off in the rough direction of home. “I’ll be back by sundown.”
+=+=+=+=+
Dion was not back by sundown.
He wasn’t back home at all, actually. He’d walked for what felt like forever, realized he’d been passing the same rock over and over again, and climbed another tree. The waterrise was even further away, now, the sky already starting to pinken a bit towards the horizon.
Dion leaned against the tree once he was back on ground level, breathing in deep. How had he gotten turned around? He’d had to walk around some trees, yes, but he hadn’t veered that far off-course, had he?
It made no sense. He had a perfectly fine sense of direction every other time he’d gotten lost, been perfectly able to make it home once he got up high and figured out where he was—
“Oh.” Dion blinked. “Oh, of course.” He put his face in his hands with a groan. “Of fucking course. Psychic bullshit strikes again!” Apparently Raz was right about the forest being set up to get people lost.
Well, shit. How was Dion supposed to find his way home, now? He never should have wandered out this way at all.
“Whatever.” He grumbled. “I’ll just keep climbing trees.” Yeah, that’d work. He’d just climb every tree he ran into, because that totally wouldn’t exhaust him at all—
Still. Dion picked a direction that he felt was roughly where he needed to go, and started walking. After enough time, he went to the nearest tree to check where he was.
The waterrise wasn’t any further away—but it wasn’t any closer, either. Dion muttered choice words under his breath as he climbed back down. The sky was starting to get very very orange on one end, and very very dark on the other. He needed to get home.
Grumbling, Dion turned away from the tree. Maybe he should head away from where he remembered the waterrise being? That might work. Dion turned around—
And found himself face to face with a ghost.
“Um.” Dion took a step back. The more coherent a ghost was, the more control they had over their appearance. There was no way this ghost was very coherent, if the bloody, smashed-in face was any indication. Her dress hung loosely around her torso, ill-fitting.
Another ghost floated over next to the first one. Dion took another step back.
“I’m lost.” The first ghost said, her voice a hoarse whisper. “I’ve been running for days and I can’t find my way out, I’m lost I’m lost I’m lost I’m lost—”
The second ghost moaned. “I can’t get out.”
More ghosts started showing up. Dion backed up until his back hit a tree. They all spoke, several voices intermingling. Fear and despair leached off of them all in waves.
“Dead bodies—”
“Lost—”
“Hungry—”
“Can’t get out—”
“Going in circles—”
What was it Frazie had told him, when he set out after lunch? Something about not coming to save him if he got abducted by ghosts.
“I hate it when she’s right.” Dion muttered. Oh, he just knew Frazie would laugh if she could see him now, pushing against the tree as if to phase through it, seven different ghosts all hovering around and hemming him in without really acknowledging him at all.
Carefully, Dion stepped forward. The ghosts appeared to all be milling about a general area, so maybe he could just scoot on by—
The second ghost grabbed his wrist with a plaintive wail. “I can’t get out. I can’t I can’t I can’t get out—” Their grip was crushing. Dion tried to pry their hand off, wincing in pain as they only squeezed harder—
A sharp yank. The world tilted. Dion tumbled forwards, instinctively curling his arms around his head to try and roll with the impact. Undergrowth scratched at his arms and face—
He hit the bottom of the ditch injured-wrist-first, agitating it further. He could hear all the ghosts wailing still.
Dion groaned. The mud was cold against his face, cold through his clothes.
Okay, so he definitely shouldn’t have wandered out this far.
He pushed himself up, only to stop short—his hand was in something soft, something that gave under it with a wet sort of crunch.
Something that looked an awful lot like a dead body. Ewwww.
Dion pulled his hand back like he’d burned it and flailed. “Ew ew ew ew ew—” He did not want dead body bits on his hand, ew, disgusting, he could still feel wet gross on them ew ew ew—
He stumbled back, only for a stick to snap under his heel. No, not a stick—a bone.
Now that Dion was looking, he could see multiple bodies in the ditch. The one he’d ended up sticking his hand into was probably the most recent—it wasn’t like Dion was an expert on dead bodies. Dead people, sure, but most of the dead people he saw didn’t have their bodies attached.
“This is bad.” Dion’s voice came out as a whisper, “This is really, really bad.” And gross. He didn’t want to think about the kind of filth found on rotting bodies—filth that was now on his left hand.
If he’d gotten lost because of the weird psychic signals, and if those weird psychic signals had lead him here—
This was bad. Some of the ghosts looked withered, like they’d dehydrated to death. The first ghost looked like she’d cracked her head falling into the ditch. One ghost even looked starved, ghostly clothes hanging loosely off their ghostly frame.
“Dead bodies—”
“Lost—”
“Hungry—”
“Can’t get out—”
"Lost—"
“Going in circles—”
There were seven ghosts, all lingering and lost. Dion could only make out six bodies.
Was this supposed to happen? Were people who wandered too close to the Gulch supposed to end up here and die?
Dion shook his head. “There’d be way more ghosts if this was happening for more than a decade.” He reasoned. He didn’t know exactly when Nona’s Old People Club had first gotten together, but he knew it was at least a while before the Deluge. Surely, surely it hadn’t been set up to kill whoever got too close—Dion hoped it wasn’t.
That awful revelation aside, he still needed to get out of here. The sides of the ditch weren’t too steep—it was the depth that made it dangerous, probably. He grabbed at the dirt, digging his fingers in for purchase—
“Ow ow ow—” Dion hissed, cradling his right wrist against his chest. Oh, fuck, that hurt. Was it sprained? It was definitely bruising, where it had been grabbed.
Right. Carefully, leading with his other hand, Dion started his climb. The dirt was soft, his boots sliding every few steps, but there were plenty of rooted plants in the soil, perfect for grabbing onto.
He hoped none of them were poison ivy. This whole adventure already sucked enough.
He made it halfway up when cold hands wrapped around his shoulders, his arms, his legs. Cold nails dug in and pulled.
“Wh—hey!” Dion slid back down to the bottom. “What was that for?!”
The ghosts didn’t answer him. They just grabbed him and pulled him back down when he tried to climb out again.
And again.
And again.
Dion could only half see, now, the sunlight entirely gone down here under the trees. In this lighting, his wrist looked normal, the bruises and the unblemished skin the same. In this lighting, the ghosts all glowed softly, like the world’s most fucked up fireflies.
The world’s most fucked up fireflies who kept dragging him back down.
Dion groaned. “I get it!” He yelled out, not caring if the ghosts could hear him or not. “You all got lost and died here!” He clambered up the side of the ditch again, digging his fingers into soft earth. “That doesn’t mean I want to be STUCK HERE with ALL OF YOU!” The cold receded.
He made it up to the edge of the ditch unimpeded, hauling himself up onto the dirt. His wrist twinged in pain.
The first ghost appeared in front of him again. “I’m lost,” She whispered, “I’m lost I’m lost I’m lost and there’s nobody to help me—”
Dion grabbed her by the shoulder. “Hey. Hey.” He didn’t even know if she’d understand him, lost in her fear and grief. “I get it. You’re lost and you’re scared. But you gotta calm down, dammit.” She didn’t look older than him. Maybe a little older than Pooter.
…Dion felt bad for shouting.
She sniffled, her wail cutting off. For a moment, her face shifted, and Dion could see what she must have looked like in life. “I’m scared,” She whispered. “I ran away and I don’t know where I am.”
Dion’s chest tightened. “I’m sorry.” He muttered, for lack of anything better to say. “I’m lost, too.” He admitted.
Cold hands wrapped around his own, almost soothing against his right wrist. “It’s scary.” A ghost’s eyes never changed, always washed out and empty—but Dion could feel the fear leaching out of her hands, the despair-hurt-fear-hurt that made up her being.
He couldn’t save her. (He had never known her.)
“Yeah,” Dion agreed, leaning forward. “It’s scary.” He didn’t want to die here, alone with the bodies and the ghosts.
He couldn’t save her. (She wasn’t his responsibility.)
But he could still do something.
“If—” He started, “If I find my way out of here… I’ll tell someone.” Dion promised. “I’ll tell someone that you’re here.”
“You’ll get help?” There was a tinge of hope to her voice. Dion found his gaze stuck on the ground.
“Yeah,” He said. “I’ll get help.”
+=+=+=+=+
A chorus of mews was the first sound to greet Dion when he re-entered the campgrounds, the morning sun peeking over the tops of the trees. Persephone’s tail was straight up in the air as she bounded over to him, meowing loud enough to wake the dead.
“She was crying for you all night.” Frazie walked up behind Persephone. “We had to lock her in the caravan, and she wouldn’t. Shut. Up.”
Dion snorted, still cradling his wrist. He turned to Persephone, who was busy rubbing up against his legs and meowing her displeasure at his extended absence. “Aww, you missed me? You missed me so much you kept everyone up?” He cooed, “It’s okay, sweetie, I’m back now, don’t worry, I’m back, I’m back.” He reached out to pet her with his non-injured hand, only for her to sniff it once before pulling back and batting at it.
Right. That was the hand that’d been in a dead body. No wonder Persephone didn’t want it on her.
“So what happened to you?” Frazie asked, standing a distance away. Dion really needed to clean himself off.
“Guess.” He muttered, walking around her. He’d go find Raz and get the answers he needed when he was clean—his wrist throbbed—and when he’d taken care of his undoubtedly sprained wrist. Persephone remained wrapped around and between his legs as he walked, tail straight up in the air.
Dion glanced back at the woods. The girl stood there at the treeline, staring with blank eyes.
When he blinked, she was gone.
#whumptober2023#no.8#outnumbered#psychonauts#zaz writes#gore tw#dead body tw#corpse tw#death tw#death discussion tw#child death tw#dion sees dead people#dion aquato#frazie aquato#this piece is brought to you by persephone the cat#she's the mvp of this au fr fr#anyway. this is the Ditch Incident that i can't remember if i ever mentioned before#where dion gets lost and finds a ditch full of bodies#bc whoops!! turns out psychic protections can degrade over time#if nobody's maintaining them#bc the person who set them up shattered his mind#and everyone else who knows about them can bypass them easily#surely this has not had any awful consequences!! (it has)#this is what gets otto to call up his ghost-seeing friends btw
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As I'm rewatching TADC, I'm beginning to realize that in the near future, we're probably going to see more indie projects and I actually think that it has the potential to be good for the entertainment industry as a whole.
As time goes on, more people are pretty much only using streaming services but streaming services have a lot of problems with their platforms. The subscriptions are getting more expensive, there's so many of them, and a lot of the shows are getting cancelled in their infancy (some after being greenlit for more) despite their popularity.
Since 2019, Netflix alone has cancelled dozens of shows such as Dead End Paranormal Park, Julie and the Phantoms, Inside Job, Lockwood and Co, Warrior Nun, The Baby-Sitters Club, Raising Dion, Shadow and Bone, The Oa, I Am Not Okay With, A Typical, Anne with E, and much more.
This list doesn't even touch on other streaming platforms but I'm choosing to focus on these shows from Netflix (probably the most well respected streaming service) because I feel like it gets to the root of the problem. A lot of these shows were cancelled in their infancy despite having had high ratings (once again, some of them were even greenlit for more seasons). I almost never hear about shows ending anymore, I only hear about how they get cancelled after a season or two.
With both streaming services and cable not really giving creators the most certain platform, doing indie projects seems like the best bet and it works really well for both the creator and the audience.
To go back to streaming services, the amount of streaming services in the world are only growing and not everyone has the ability to pay for all of them but even the people that do pay for a lot of streaming services can't watch everything. I've mentioned this once but my parents are subscribed to 5 different streaming services, that's so many but they still ask me for help to pirate about once a month because they want to watch a show that isn't available on the streaming platform they use. That is ridiculous and I fully believe my parents should be allowed to watch whatever they want. (Just like my parents, I'll gladly share the piracy sites I use but it's through DMs only, I promise I'm not scary I cry watching kids cartoons).
But when it comes to shows on YouTube, it's available to basically everyone with a Wi-Fi connection and I fully believe it's the main reason why shows like TADC, Lackadaisy, Helluva Boss, RWBY, RvB, and more were able to get their level of popularity. They're on a free to use platform and can be shared to other people just as easily. Also when creators post their show on YouTube, it's much easier for people to make gifs and edits (which, let's be honest, are the real advertisers of a show) because YouTube lets people take screenshots/screen record without any hassle.
*If you want to know how to screenshot/screen record DRM content (things like Netflix, Hulu, CrunchyRoll, etc), I do have a post about here.
Along with the fact that it's more available to the public, it's also more available to the crew and creators. A few years ago, Dana Terrace (creator of The Owl House) made a tweet introducing a new character to the show but the tweet got popular because admitted that she had to pirate The Owl House in order to watch it.
(Since it's cropped in this screenshot, in the top right corner is a watermark of a well-known piracy site for The Owl House).
Imagine working for a company like Disney and not have the ability to watch your own show. They couldn't even give her complimentary mp4 files or even a subscription to Disney+ despite the fact that without her the show wouldn't exist. It's really annoying to see this but when it comes to shows like TADC, that problem doesn't really exist. You can just watch the episodes for free on YouTube.
Also, the fact that the episodes take a while to come out really makes the fandom feel a lot more united. The wait time between episode really kills the binging aspect of TV and I'm in full support of that. Ever since streaming services started to become the default way to watch TV, binging culture has gotten really bad and it can be pretty isolating to people who have busy lives.
Take me for an example. Someone like me, a single adult who has no kids and a terrible sleep schedule (ignore username), can stay up until 3 in the morning binging shows without too many negative consequences. But I have friends who are married/getting married and have kids/planning on having kids, meaning that they don't have the same amount of time as me. I can finish binging shows in a day or two which isn't a pleasure my friends have and it also mean I can't talk to them about it because they're only on episode 2.
I also feel a lot more comfortable donating to these indie projects because the money goes directly towards the creators and crew. When the WGA strike happened, creators explained how they got paid (you can watch the whole video here), and the quick version of it is, they only get paid the amount of times someone watches and episode, they get paid thee residuals from the subscriptions which is so little that it almost feels criminal. When you really put it into perspective, donating to 2 dollars to a GoFundMe and watching the show three times on YouTube is going to do more for a show then paying for a 15 dollar subscription and watching it 10 times.
YouTube definitely has it's problems, I've been subjected to whole ass adults saying "seggy" for nearly a decade, but when you compare it to the current state of streaming and cable, it seems like the best option for both the creators and fans.
#believe it or not this was supposed to just be like a paragraph long#but i just really hate streaming services#and i know no one wants to listen to talk about this#so to tumblr i go#really hoping this doesn't age poorly#but i just can't stand streaming services#i will admit i don't know all the nitty-gritty that goes into making shows#be it on youtube/a streaming service/cable#but with how things are going i think that youtube is becoming the best option
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So I just finished FFXVI and I’m a mess. Some thoughts on the final story beats.
I see a lot of people saying that Clive, Joshua and Dion survived the final fight. I don’t think so.
Dion had a transition to white after taking Ultima’s spell at full power. While I want him to be alive and find Terence and live the happy life he should, I don’t think he is. He had his redemption and that was enough for him, though I think a story of him finding purpose when he thought his was to die would be more interesting.
I think Joshua survived and went on to write the book. I see lots of people saying Clive took his name, but that doesn’t seem right. Clive was pressured into taking Cid’s name, which handily functioned as a pseudonym and granted him anonymity. People also associated it with someone who helped liberate Bearers. It had function beyond just honouring Cid. Clive wouldn’t have taken his name, out of respect and lack of necessity. I think Ultima’s power granted Clive the power required to bring Joshua back.
Clive. Sweet, lovable, strong, bold, daring Clive. He didn’t survive. Having used the power of Ultima to fell the last crystal, he himself admitted to not being a vessel fit for it, and we see the Curse start to take over before he closes his eyes for the final time. Jill sees the Star of Metia lose her glow and she knows what this means, signalling to the player the true fate of Clive. When Torgal joins her on the landing deck, he howls in sadness. People say that some side quests hint that he survived, but in Torgal’s quest we see that he looked for Clive even when everyone else thought he was dead. Torgal didn’t go looking for him. In Harpocrate’s quest he tells Tomes that if he lives long enough he’ll use Tomes’ quill to write a book. Clive never wrote a book.
My head cannon is they all survived and lived happy, long lives, but I really don’t think this is the case.
I would love the DLC to have them all survive and try to keep people safe in a post-crystal world, or have them face the Leviathan’s Mothercrystal, but I’m assuming it’ll focus on character’s pasts, which is also interesting.
All in all 9.5/10 too many tears.
#ffxvi#ffxvi spoilers#final fantasy#final fantasy 16#clive rosfield#clive ffxvi#joshua rosfield#joshua ffxvi#dion lesage#dion ffxvi#jill warrick#jill ffxvi#torgal#terence ffxvi#sir terence#jote#ifrit#phoenix#bahamut#shiva#ultima
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"I don't love you."
fourth or fifth of the Dion series!! Yes, I'm finally doing this TT
warning: mentions of murder
This statement stunned all the people in the room.
Dion proposing the idea of marriage between him and a mere pet towards the family! This made Roxana laugh. "Why should we trust you, Dion? You've always loathed the idea of marriage and yet here you are." Hiding a smile behind her hand, she looked towards the other two for their opinions on this.
Their father seemed to be lost in his thoughts on the matter whilst Fontaine just stared unamused. "You marry her? I don't find comfort in such an idea, brother." The word brother seemed to irritate the already annoyed male as his optics stared daggers at his older sibling.
"I see no problem with what I have asked." The second oldest said calmly, unbothered by his siblings' clear disagreement towards the matter. "It will benefit the family's growth. Not only that, but being married to her will spark up my chances as head which is why you all do not find that amusing." That seemed like a direct hit to his siblings who seemed startled by such a statement.
"You're presuming..!" "Shush." Lant interfered with much annoyance. "As Dion said, there is no problem with such a request. This will bring more most likely successful roles into the family." Tapping his chin, he went on. "I will have to think about it. For now this matter will be adjourned. See to it that the pet gets back to her cage." That was voluntary, and all of them seemed to want a word the girl.
Although Fontaine and Roxana seemed determined to get the girl, Dion got to her first. "As you wish." He said, taking the hand of the girl who had barely made a sound during the whole ordeal.
Walking out the corridor, he pushed her against the wall hard. Her back ached painfully as a hand forcefully lifted her chin to face him. "If you get the faintest idea that I care for you, you are gravely mistaken. I saved you only to my own benefit. If we get married you will not find a happy ending for I do not love you. In fact, one could say I loathe you to a point." The harsh tone in his voice mixed with the tight painful grip he had on her made tears swell, nodding meekly at the statement she tried pulling her wrist away from him only to be tugged tighter. "One more thing, once we're married and we need to have children if that ever happens. If the first child is a failure, you'll watch them die by my hand."
Without so much as a warning he dragged her to her so-called 'cage', tossing her in. "I will see you soon, dear wife." The door slammed as she sat up to see only darkness in the room. The swelled up tears streamed down her face as sobs ringed in the air. Clutching her chest, she wished that she was never born to parents that barely cared for her well-being, maybe if she hadn't she would've had a better life than this. Damned to marry and produce offspring for a male who did not care or love her in any way.
Her head was spinning as her vision slowly became unfocused. The last thing she heard was the door opening slowly as she fell into the dark oblivion of unconsciousness.
A soothing sound of laughter made her focus once more. This place.. Hadn't she seen it before? She eased herself upward as she padded her way to a giant structure. Home... Running through the deserted halls she screamed for her parents... brother... anyone at all. She found nothing. Only an empty home that once belonged to her treasured ones. Was this what happened now?
Suddenly footsteps were heard. Marching.. A scream of a woman was in earshot, begging to be heard. Mother..? Rushing once more she found a traumatizing sight. A male laughing at the sight of her mother's dead corpse on the ground. That male then turned towards her. Looking directly at her, he laughed maniacally. "See what your mother has become? If it wasn't for me you'd be like this, so you could at least be grateful." The male drew off his hood. Dion. Those taunting crimson eyes blazed with much satisfaction towards her crying.
A scream escaped her lips as she shot up from the cold hard floor she had been sleeping on. There stood Roxana Agriche watching her. Had she been watching her sleep? Locking eyes with one another, Roxana crouched down. "Are you alright?" Her eyes were glowing with what Name took for worry.
"I'm fine." She was surprised at the sound of her own voice, perhaps because she couldn't speak a word during the dream she had just had. "What are you..?" "Doesn't matter. Come along." Roxana said, gesturing her to follow.
Moving through the hallways with the lady, they made it to a room where Roxana asked her to make herself comfortable. Clearly confused on what was going on, Roxana spoke up. "I've asked father to make you my lady in waiting. I thought that would be better than becoming a wife to my irritating brother." Name clearly wasn't listening properly. At least she hoped. Roxana Agriche made her a lady in waiting and Lant Agriche had agreed without a problem?
"How-" "Let's just say I've earned a lot of father's favour." Roxana gave a small smile. "Please try to impress me as much." There was a reason she found interest in this girl.
Name was no ordinary being, it seemed there was more to her than anyone had thought. A power stirred inside of her. If Dion got his hands on the girl it would mean their offspring would be quite strong and a perfect weapon to be used on the Pedalians, which was not good for her plan.
Her lips quivered with nervousness as she answered, bowing respectfully. "I will try my best to ensure that you don't regret it, my lady."
#manhwa#self insert#manhwa x reader#dion agriche#dion agrece#dion x reader#the way to protect the female lead's older brother#twtptflob#roxana#roxana agriche#roxana agrece#fontaine#lant agriche#❀ – 𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔥𝔴𝔞 𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱
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Based off of @rouecentric ‘s dion x milf reader post…
Okay so Dion with a milf!lover—but a few things change,like how the reader is just one of the workers in Agriche,and tends to dead bodies and poisons?I mean,he still would see her alot(with how many people he kills and the poisons he uses to keep it clean)No surprise he would start to notice things,like how you kept a poker face while dealing with the bodies of whom he has killed—and he felt that feeling he felt with Roxana,but stronger; he wanted to rip that pretty,stoic look off of you.leave you a mess,begging and crying for him.
He started out simple: messily killing,trying to get a reaction from you as you looked at the scene of the gruesome murder.When that didn’t work,he looked deeper into you—noticed that you had children that were competent enough to work around Agriche.
Maybe,he could kill one and finally see you cry?
#dion agriche#manhwa#the way to protect the female leads older brother#dion#dion agriche x reader#the way to save the older brother of the heroine#manhwa x reader#deon agrece
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˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ anon said “Hey Dion want to spend time with me? No killing or glaring at other tho! I just wanna be in town with my friend in peace!”
His gloved hand reaches your cheek, feelings his little warm in your face bring safety and comfort, regardless his red sharp eyes and emotionless expression, you know his feelings towards you, his loved one.
As much he desires to let you go out with those people you claimed to be friends, Dion is way selfish to let others people see you, only he ( sometimes his family) is capable to interact with such lovely person as you, yet he doesn’t want to destroy the long path of this beautiful relationship, not to mention he had no time to go shopping with his sweet spouse.
“… You may go but with a condition” with no warning, he later his head in your lap and quickly catch your face goes entire red with his action, did you got used it to that yet? “ Bring me a matching jewelry that we will wear forever”.
He wouldn’t never confess. But during many of his missions, Dion saw many couples wearing matching jewelry and clothes, meaning that if you wear the matching jewelry, everyone will knows you belong to him, and for those who true to defy him about it will end dead.
@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost
#yandere manwha#yandere manwha x reader#manwha x reader#yandere dion agriche#yandere deon agriche#dion agriche x reader#deon agriche x reader#yandere interactions#yandere imagine#yandere headcanon#interactions
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