#i like me a good horror trope and it's not like we have one going for malstarion

[arolesbianism]

Sometimes I just look at Isabeau and just know that if isat came out and I got into it when I was like 16 he would be my favorite character and I would've gone absolutely buck wild over this man and feel like he was laser targeting me. But alas Odile has a grip of steel on me rn due to her virtue of being a middle aged woman

[mercymaker]

the 'came back wrong' trope but it's astarion casting wish to bring his dead girlfriend back to life, but fucking it up bad because he's not 'a details person'

y/n?

[zoomclown]

thinking about Jonathan Sims and Samama Khalid.

Thinking about how, by all laws of Horror Story Trope, Jon should not be the protagonist. If I'd never heard of tma and you showed me a lineup of the archives crew and asked me to guess who died first I would have pointed to Jon. He's the paranoid professor archetype. The one who dies discovering some crucial bit of information at the beginning to push the plot forward. He's unfriendly, cowardly, insecure, and makes other people do his investigation for him for all of season 1. He doesn't do anything even remotely heroic until the second half of the show. He has no interest in romance for the first half of the show. The audience wasn't even aware Jon had a dark past until he starts telling us about A Guest for Mr. Spider. But he is *Chosen.* Despite the fact that he has no actual qualities of a hero, he's chosen as the eyes special boy. Over the course of the show he starts to become more and more like an actual protagonist. He starts trying to save the world, resist the eye, all that jazz. For one reason or another, being the Archivist turns Jonathan "definition of a side character" Sims into the main character.

Then we have Sam. Sam starts acting like a horror/mystery protagonist almost immediately. He is young, charming, has a mysterious past (that we are made aware of pretty much right away) and a curiosity that causes him to frequently put himself personally in the path of The Horrors. He pokes around where he doesn't belong and looks for clues. He's the center of an office love triangle for goodness sake. He has a strong sense of duty to others and will put himself in harms way to protect those he loves. He exudes main character energy. He has everything a horror protagonist needs to push the plot along. But Sam wasn't *Chosen.* Despite being exactly the person you'd expect the plot to follow. And I can't help but wonder if, in the same way that the narrative made Jon important, it's going to make Sam unimportant. Irrelevant. If, with his rejection from The Magnus Institute, Sam is going to disappear completely. Become a mystery.

Because at the end of the day, so much of your life, your impact on the world, your relevance, has absolutely nothing to do with you. So much of it has everything to do with those in power, and whether they decide you're important.

It all comes down to your own rotten luck.

[necronatural]

Even If You Got Dropped In A Ghost Story, You Still Go To Work: A visual primer for English speakers

This took me a week. I did this for ORV like 4 years ago so it felt like my moral obligation to make one again.

Some notes on character designs and images without text:

Gorals and domestic goats look very different, but in Manor of the Blind attention is put into how these two are similar and contrasting, the truly noble Go Youngeun with the white goat and the sinister Baek Saheon with the black goat. I also picked a literal goral instead of a mountain goat (which are naturally white) because gorals look more like roe deers than goats, making the 3 of them more closely linked.

I always thought it was a shame most fanartists don't give Baek Saheon darling 90s curls because that's one of the only traits he explicitly has and is tied into how harmless he looks at first glance and it's adorable

Because this is a horror novel and unnatural features aren't mentioned, I tried to keep this as grounded as possible. Mowing through these anime designs. I don't think J3 is an idol with hair in his eyes. I think he just looks like a very tired guy of ambiguous age

Another hardliner of of grounded designs is Jin Nasol, who gets the most ostentatious anime character treatment besides Jay in fanart. She is coldly utilitarian and prizes efficiency over all else, there is no way that woman has bangs

I am not giving Park Minseong brown hair. There is nothing wrong with a good warm black

Lee Jaheon is often depicted as an adorable little newt in fanart, but a huge part of why he is so hysterical is that he is scary, so I picked more intimidating lizard traits so he functions in both dramatic heroic scenes and eating granola bars with the wrappers still on. He gets to keep the newt mask though

I gave Braun white gloves at first but I saw a Braun cosplayer and a demon possessed me. I have no idea what colour is canon. who doesnt love black leather

Making Jang Heo-un the "sharp eyes meek personality" trope made my brain light up so good. I was trying to contrast with the relaxed eyes of the easygoing Park Minseong to make them more obviously different but this feels cosmically correct

I tried to avoid the stereotypical fanart designs but the fanartists really captured how it feels for Lee Seonghae to be on the page with this design. Made her hair darker and that's it like we nailed it

Choi's design archetypes are 1. reliable senior 2. cheerful 3. unsettlingly intense, so I leaned on a more gritty korean procedural archetype with Choi. Kind of guy that makes your entire spinal column freeze when he turns on the heat

You can use these pics for whatever you want. ⬆️

[jinkiezzsstuff]

At First Sight 3

Part: [1] [2]

Alastor x doe!fem!reader (gender neuteral pronouns)

warnings: 18+ SMUT, tentacles inclusion, tentacle bondage, predatory prey kink, breeding kink, creampie, male and female masturbation, in heat trope, tentacle masturbation, squirting, dirty talk, choking kink a tiny tiny amount, horror aspects, size kink if you squint, pregnancy although not in depth, you and al become parents, jealous alastor, alastor and lucifer hate eachother, lucifer disagrees with your relationship, swearing, babies given a name, girl dad alastor, NOT PROOF READ LADS I WAS LAZY, lemme know what i missed xoxox

taglist: @readergirlstuff @purplerose291 @chirimeimei @sirens-and-moonflowers

word count: 7.3K

Alastor had to bite his tongue through many instances in his life he rather not bite his tongue through, but this was by far the hardest he’s ever had to hold back. Lucifer pulled you into a strong hug, cooing at how much you’d grown and changed, pinching your cheeks and kissing your head. Even Alastor’s shadows edged out angrily across the floor at the devil, however you seemed to pay no mind to your newly wedded’s distaste in the devils affections. In fact you were laughing and playfully swatting at Lucifer for treating you so childishly.

Moulting into a shadow slithering across the floor like a snake, he crept up beside you and when he fully formed from the black goop, he waited not a second to pull you into him, and when he did you gave him a dreamy love sick look. Lucifer's face wasn’t shy in his display of disgust, eyes darting to you and Alastor, mouth ajar. “No.” Lucifer uttered in theatrical horror, jumping back and pointing his cane at Alastor. Grinning like the Cheshire cat, Alastor puffed with pride. “Yes.” Alastor practically growled, meanwhile rolled your eyes at both of their idiotic behaviour.

“I mean Charlie said you had an…. interesting taste in men but HIM?!” You grinned nervously at the king, his face soured as he glared at Al. You were in the midst of saying some good old recovery words to ease Lucifers mind, when Alastor pipped up, head held high as he spoke. “Yes indeedy! This little darling and I have become quite the pair. A married pair.” Alastors words were sharp and punctual, like spears tossed forcefully right at the king himself.

You’ve been in Lucifers life so long you might as well be a second daughter, now this deer fuck is stealing both his biological daughter and the one he practically adopted? Lucifer was steaming and you were caught between the two, you knew you were mated to Alastor, but that didn’t change how near and dear the king was to you.

“Guys,” You ushered in a hushed tone bringing your hand up, looking quite meek between the two seething demons. “Please relax, it’s not that serious. Alastor is my mate Luc-” As you were in the middle of calmly explaining the situation Lucifer jumped up like the ground had burnt him, horns shooting out of his head. “His what?!” Lucifer shouted, wings splaying out, tone demonic. Alastor chuckled, his static overlay enhanced as he fixed his monocle. “Yes, I just knew this doe had to be mine when I laid eyes on her! Oh my what a night we had.” In any other situation, on any other day, Alastor couldn’t have those words waterboarded out of him, but just in spite of the devil, he knew he ought to push his own boundaries.

The devil face morphed into shock horror as he tugged at his hat in pure stress, meanwhile Alastor stood tall and smug, with a shit eating grin on his face. You could tell Alastor was going to exploit your relationship just to piss Lucifer off. “What the holy fuck!” The king exclaimed, running in a quick circle, trying to grasp the situation. By now Lucifers entire demonic form was out, eyes blood red, horns at full length, wings flapping occasionally behind him. Thankfully Alastor wasn’t visibly upset, keeping his form and tone fixed. “Guys, Luce, relax! I wanted Alastor the moment I saw him, trust me I know what he’s done and who he is, but there was something about him. You know I’m not that stupid hellion who falls for anybody’s charms, Alastors got something.”

Lucifer didn’t seem to care for your reasoning, instead he glared at Alastor even harder, and pointed his index and middle finger toward his own eyes, and then Alastors. “I’m watching you deer dick.” Then Lucifer turned and stormed off, ignoring your call to come back and relax. Sighing your platinum ears flattened against your hair and head, posture falling. “Come now my dear, don’t dwell on that silly little man’s equally silly and little emotional control! We’re married now! We should be celebrating our fantastical venture into domestic romance!”

Although Alastor was right, the timing was wrong, and his voice was too happy for your state. “I know, but he’s like a second dad, I want him to like you and it stresses me that he doesn’t.” Alastor hums, gently guiding you back upstairs to your now shared bedroom. “Things tend to change with time sweetheart, let this be one of those things that change with time. He can see how good we are together and how good I am for this hotel!” You hummed falling into his side, your tail wagging happily as you reached the bedroom.

“I was also hoping he’d be able to lend us some advice but now I'm doubtful.” The door closed behind you and him, you immediately kicked your shoes off to free the hooves. “What advice dear?” Alastor asked softly, attention focused on untying his bow tie. “Well i’m quite concerned about getting pregnant with a fawn, and I want to know if our mating it’s demon or animal specific.”

The air got tight at the mention of children, and immediately you looked over to him watching his movements stall. His coat was now off leaving him in just his vest and button up. Sighing you rubbed your hand forcefully your forehead, mushing your skin around in an attempt to relieve the conflict in your head. “You mustn’t talk like that, little doe.” Alastors tone was stern, pointed and lacking all radio static, it was just his raw vocals that sounded almost raspy. You felt a few emotions at the way he said that, upset, angry, shocked.

Momentarily you scolded yourself for being so ludacris, this was Alastor! A serial killing, cannibalistic overlord who dealt in black magic, not your fairy prince; there were going to be big bumps and hurdles along the journey and you shouldn’t twist yourself up in a rose coloured fantasy. “Would it be that bad for you?” You couldn’t help but ask, your gaze averted instead focused on the intricate details of the wooden floor.

Alastor growled, slithering up beside you, using his magic to his advantage. “Now my dear don’t look so glum, you’re the first being of any kind to capture my heart. Shouldn’t that be something my dear?” You melted into his side when his arms came up to wrap around your figure. You stayed silent for a moment, not wanting to say the wrong thing and upset either of you. “It just felt saddening I guess, to have you react like that. I know a child is so much work, it is its own being; but when you reacted that way it felt like rejection of me, and us as a couple. Like i’m not good enough to be mated to.” Tears began to gather in your eyes, and you tried your best to keep them at bay, not wanting to cry about something so silly.

Your ears lay flat above your head, Alastor slowly petting the space between them as you spoke. Guiding you to your shared bed, Alastor sat you down, and then himself beside you. “My sweet doe,” Alastor said, smooth as butter, nuzzling himself in your neck, inhaling your scent. “If you so desire a child, we can certainly play into the fantasy, however we haven’t a clue whether it’s truly possible for me to reproduce!”

Resting your head atop his, feeling his soft ears flick and fold, his hair soft and scented with a masculine foresty shampoo. “Alastor,” You whined, making him chuckle darkly. “What about the mating stuff?” Alastor blew air on your shoulder before dragging his sharp teeth up your exposed neck. “My dear I'm sure you and I can figure it out together, no need for some silly devil. Besides we’re the two mated, we know deep down what we’re supposed to do, we knew when we first met each other we were meant to be.” Alastor leaned back from you, cupping your cheek.

You smiled at him enjoying the hazed lidded look Alastor had in his eye. “You have to be nice to Lucifer though.” Alastor growled lowly, the sound reverberating through his chest loudly. It sent shock waves through you, hearing such an animalistic sound from him. “It’s extremely hard to be nice when it’s so easy to make him upset!” Rolling your eyes, you brought your hands up to his face and held his face as he held yours. His ears flattened to each side as his eyebrows quirked, you felt a little bit of pride at the sight, it had only been a few weeks since you’ve been together but Alastor was already way more relaxed around you, to the point of freely showing emotions through movements in his tail and ears.

Pulling him toward you, you gave a soft kiss, which he immediately returned with a hum of approval. Alastors body inches nearer to yours, pressing himself next to you. Alastor broke the kiss, looking down at you with bedroom eyes, you returned the look, grinning at him coyly.

~

Lucifer fumed, stomping around, a week had passed since Lucifer found out you and that god awful creature were a pair. He insisted on staying at the hotel in order to keep an eye on the demon; assure that you were safe. Lucifer kept a keen eye on Alastor, like a fly on the wall, but from what Lucifer could tell, Alastor was a perfect gentleman! It pissed him off entirely. Alastor bent over backwards for you, making your breakfast and coffee every morning, helping you style your hair, helping you dress, assisting you with tasks you loathed completing, hell one night Lucifer caught Alastor teaching you how to play the piano, and when you got angry at your consistent failures, Alastor would reassure you lovingly and patiently.

It drove Lucifer insane because as much as he cared for you, he selfishly wanted Alastor to be a bad partner, giving reason as to why he should leave his two daughters and the hotel alone! But everytime he looked for a flaw he found none, half the time he found himself impressed, Alastor knew what to say, and was confident in his charm. “Dad, you gotta relax! YN is fine.” Charlie said worriedly, placing a hand on her fathers shoulder. Lucifer sighed, slamming his head against the bar table. “They want to have kids, Charlie!” The man sulked, voice muffled by the wooden bar he tried to morph and become one with. “WHAT!? Oh my gosh! That would be amazing! Why wouldn’t she tell me?!” Charlie at this point was violently shaking her father with excitement, a slight bounce in her as she shook him.

Lucifer looked off to the side, guilt evident in his eyes. “They didn’t tell anyone; I overheard.” Today in fact, he overheard the two of you in the back of the hotel, having a picnic in the garden. You had your head in Alastors lap as he pet your hair and ears occasionally, and told you stories from when he was alive; which you greatly enjoyed since you’d been born in hell. When he began to speak about his mother the conversion shifted to parenthood, and then children. Originally Lucifer didn’t intend to stay long, he simply slithered through the grass to eavesdrop a bit, make sure all was well and leave.

But he couldn’t leave when he heard what Alastor had to say. “Y’know dear, I never considered having children, but then again, I never considered being married either. I’ve thought about children now, of course, ha ha,” Alastor laughed boisterously. You could tell it was to cover up the nerves he felt inwardly, but Lucifer found him to be insufferable and inconsiderate. “We don’t know if we can Al,” You said softly, reaching your hand to Alastors cheek. Alastor quirked a brow amusement visibly shining in his eyes that searched your face for something. “We’d just have to wait until mating season darling.” Lucifer gagged at that, you however didn’t quite understand and it made Alastor coo about how adorable you are.

“Oh so we’re not supposed to know they’re gonna try for a baby?” Charlie asked stunned, backing away from her father. “No,” He moaned, slamming his head back down on the table. Charlie gave her dad a look but brushed it off, this was very exciting for her, she’d only tell Vaggie, that way the two could both subtly baby proof the hotel!

~

Autumn in hell roamed around and it was one hell of a year, the hotel went under attack, Lucifer then made himself a whole quarter of the hotel his, and Alastor followed suit with his radio tower, Sir Pentious died, Adam died, there was so much hectic chaos you could barely keep up. Not to mention the beginning of October left you feeling odd, to say the least. You couldn’t completely understand why, not much changed in the recent days, aside from a few sinners checking in. Nothing bad happened between you and Alastor either; things have been fantastic, the two of you would have the occasional spat about morality and manipulation, but Alastor had your soul and was your mate, so in the end you’d give in to him, and he in his own way to you.

One of your biggest points of contention was Alastors multi-beneficial behaviour, if he was going to do something you knew it was double edged, one side benefiting him and the other side doing what he was supposed to with the illusion of being gracious. One of the biggest arguments was kids; Alastor talked about having them in ways that benefited him, how it would rank him above other sinners, he’d have bloodline in hell which would grant him further authority beyond the pride ring, he could train his offspring to be like him. In short, Alastor didn’t want children, he wanted mini hims, to run around killing and eating others.

You tried your best to convince him that a child was no means to power, but he truly couldn’t understand the point of having them besides that. You tried not to blame him, understanding he wasn’t a fairy prince he was Alastor, and you loved him for that, but at times dealing with his psycho was frustrating.

You’ve noticed him acting strange today, he insisted you wore his clothes he’d been wearing the day before, you thought that was the strangest thing and tried to squeeze the reasoning as to why he wanted you to wear his worn dirty clothes. Unfortunately you never fully got the answer out of him, aside from him tutting that he wanted to make ‘that devil’ seethe, so you did. It wasn’t like it really bothered you, hell he even went out of his way to magic the clothes to fit your frame baggily. You wore one of his washed out red button ups, and his slacks, thankfully you found the fit to be somewhat chic and enjoyed the idea of prancing around in clothes that were his, and smelt like him.

Walking down to the lobby like you did everyday, you were greeted by Alastor holding your cup of coffee as always, this time however his appearance looked worrisome. “What’s wrong Al?” You exclaimed rushing over to him, gazing up to him because his form was just slightly elongated. “Nothing my dear! Just a little bit of frazzle this morning!” You didn’t believe that for one second; his antlers were out and looked like they were peeling, his eyes were black and turned to dials, his neck elongated, smile strained and his hair puffed. “Was it you and Lucifer having some marital spat again?” You joke, taking your cup of coffee and following him into the kitchen.

“No dear, please refrain from commenting about that filthy devil, it’s insulting to replace you with him. It’s simply the change of seasons.” Setting his coffee on the counter top, he leaned on it, arms folded and looked over to you. Your ears folded down, a confused look taking over your face. “Is it a deer thing? I woke up feeling strange too, I’m sweating more than usual, and it’s hot, and sometimes my body will start tingling!” You explain hurriedly, slightly worried at what was going on.

Alastor swallowed, smile straining, he wasn’t equipped with how to handle the situation. “Well dear,” Alastor stalled, momentarily scratching the loose felt on his antler. You gazed at him waiting for a response, but it never came, he just filled the air with static, eyeing you up and down. “Hello, Al? I would prefer to know, you look stressed.” You urged leaning toward him, Alastor inhaled deeply, and exhaled a growl. Your body reacted instantly to the noise, feeling a travelling sensation of heat shoot from your groin to your head making you feel dizzy. “If we are to talk about such things, it will not be here.” He snapped eyes closed tightly, fists clenched, you had no clue what was up with him. Just as you were about to urge him further, Lucifer came skipping into the kitchen whistling a tune. “Oh heyyy guys!” Lucifer exclaimed in a valley girl-esque voice, strutting up to the two of you.

“Morning big daddy.” You say jokingly, it wasn’t that big of a deal to you two; you always referred to Lucifer by either his name or some variation of dad. Alastor however didn’t find this to be funny, you and lucifer watched as Alastor grew taller, his static deafening. “Uhhh morning pumpkin,” Lucifer muttered, eyes focused on Alastor as he spoke. You heard the clacking of heels against the floor and your attention turned to the door. Angel paused at the entrance looking between Al and Lucifer. At this point Alastor leered over Lucifer, bent abnormally so, you were eyeing Angel between the gap Alastor left open. You mouthed ‘help’ at Angel, but he only grimaced and slowly backed off. “Do not refer to them that way.”

The air thickened, Alastor was tall and violent looking, there was black substance leaking from between his yellow teeth, the lights were dimmed and flickering, while his radio played creepy and glitchy old timey music. His voice was nearly unrecognisable as he grit his words out at Lucifer, and for the first time in hell, you felt terrified of a sinner. Most of the seven sins weren’t this eerie when they got mad, neither were the hellborns, they mainly just killed whoever crossed them; no one had shown their true demonic powers in front of you before.

“Woah there, big fella… uh, alright! I’ll just leave you two to it! And i’ll be gone!” And just like that Lucifer scurried off in an extremely comical way. Alastor, despite Lucifer gone didn’t come back to himself, still hunched over breathing deeply, static crackling through the air. You didn’t exactly know what to do in this situation, so for a moment you just stood watching. Eventually, after about two minutes of silence, Alastor shrunk, ever so slightly, still tall and creepy but not nearly as much as before. The static ceased, and the lights returned to the usual brightness, Alastor looked down at you, his usual red eyes back. “I’m so sorry dear, I hope I didn’t frighten you.”

You swallowed harshly, you had a strange mix of fear and arousal swirling within you that you weren’t ready to share with the demon, so instead you shook your head, unconvincingly so. “No not at all Al, how come that made you so upset?” A soft record scratch came from him when you asked. “What ever do you mean?” He innocently asked, tone lifted in false innocence. Crossing your arms together, hip propped out, you eyed him closely trying to gage what you were dealing with. As your eyes ran from his antlers down, you stopped crudely at his hips, noting the strain that appeared.

Alastor wasn’t big on sex, and to be fair you didn’t exactly have a high libido either, you preferred make out sessions and sweet romance, not necessarily needing sex. So it wasn’t often you’d see him in such a state, normally he only showed arousal when he was actively involved with you. Without warning he leaned over you, hands splayed across the counter behind you, trapping you between him and the counter. “Naughty little doe, can’t keep your eyes off me?” Alastor mocked darkly, his breath brushing against your cheek. The way he contorted down from his stretched height didn’t look anatomically possible, and despite the terrifying look of him you felt giddy and cheeky, with the urge to egg him on further.

You couldn’t stop the smirk that crawled its way onto your face, biting your lip in an attempt to curb it, unfortunately Alastor saw. Forcefully he grabbed your cheeks with his claws, yanking your face upward to face him properly. “My dear, I’ve been playing nice but i can see the mischief in your eyes-” Before he could finish you flattened your fingers and palm flat against the bulge in his pants. Alastor stilled as you gave him a pout, doe eyes blinking up at him and your white ears pulled back.

Alastor growled at the sight, shamefully bucking into your warm hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t help it, you're so handsome, y’know?” You whined, your other hand placed on his forearm beside you. Alastor grunted, something you rarely heard from him. “Upstairs, go.” He replied flatly, staring beyond your head at the cabinets above. Giggling manically, you ducked under his arms and sprinted to your shared room. Your body felt on fire and you could feel the arousal between your legs. As you rushed up the stairs you bumped into Angel who grabbed you by the shoulders. “Woah there toots, where ya headed now so cracked out, are things with big red all good?” Before you could respond, Alastors demonic form made way down the hall, shadows crawling out from his feet and knocking out the lights.

“Oh yeah okay, makes sense.” Angel said in a hurry, before taking off leaving you to your own devices. Laughing aloud with a giant grin on your face you continued sprinting down the hall, just barely out of Alastors grasp. His radio was a good tell on how close he was to you, the static was going crazy nearly giving you a headache. You broke out into an anxious run, unable to fight off the anticipation of what would happen. When you got to the room, you ran inside shutting the door. You glanced around and decided a good hiding place would definitely be the most cliche, not under the bed but under a computer desk. You squished yourself underneath the desk, which was incredibly uncomfortable and pulled the chair in to cover you as much as you could.

The door suddenly creaked open, the shadows consumed the floor, the lights dying out. Alastors static couldn’t be heard, but you could hear and feel the vibrations of his footsteps around the room. “Oh sweet thing, I know you don’t truly want to hide from me. Why don’t you come on out to me?” His voice was smooth compared to before, the static left his voice, leaving his unique and rich voice all bare to your ears. The burning sensation in your body worsened and it felt torturous to deny your body any friction, you knew if you moved you were done for.

Despite not being in real danger, your heart kicked up in speed when you heard his nails drag across the wooden desk above, his hooves coming into sight at the corner. Alastor pulled out the chair, humming to himself as he sat down. You held your breath as you watched him spread his lags out, shadows darker than the dark room swarming up behind him. You watched him unbuckle his belt lazily, his head obscured from your view, only his clawed hand and crotch in sight. “Up,” He ordered once his belt was undone, and his shirt untucked. Slithering out from under the desk, you used his thighs to balance and help you lift yourself up. Before you could fully get up he grabbed you by the neck and tugged you into a firey kiss. His teeth scraped against yours, and his tongue instantly took over your mouth, exploring and tainting every inch of your mouth.

You moaned into him as his other hand gripped your hip, digging his nails deep into it. Yanking your body up, you now sat on his lap just below the large bulge he’d been teasing you with. You jerked your hips forward, yearning the friction of him against you. Alastor pulled away a string of saliva still connecting the two of you together, you whined throwing your head back slightly in defiance. You’d never wanted someone so badly before, it was even worse then the first time you’d met Al. Panting you wrapped your arms around his neck, humping him mindlessly, the only focus being on cumming. “Look at you,” Alastor sneered, gripping your hips and pushing you down against him. “So desperate, you’ve got no restraint. I’m disappointed in you, little doe.”

You croaked out what could only be described as a plea, but really it just sounded like a meek shout. Above the two of you Alastors antlers grew out, looking large and broad. “Y’know what time it is my dear.” Alastor groaned watching sweat slip down your chest, eye twitching as he held himself back. “Answer me.” He ordered sticking his nails into your tights, you gasped and moaned finding more pleasure in the act then pain. “No,” You cried softly and breathlessly. At that Alastor brought his head down to nuzzle the top of your head, careful of his antlers, and whispered in your ear. “Mating season.” You stuttered breathing out a “ha” noise, lacking humour and instead being replaced by desperation. In this position you could smell only his scent, and the arousal you left in the air, it made you feel dizzy with lust. You knew what this meant and it edged you further to the fall; he was going to mate you; breed you. You cried his name and begged for nothing, just tugging at his coat and begging for him, and only him.

The demon chuckled darkly moving away from your hair, and with lidded eyes he looked down at you, messily humping him, nearly on the verge of tears. What a sight to behold. His tentacles emerged lifting you above his lap, just enough for him to get his slacks off. Once off, he leaned back, you hoisted in the air still squirming, he practically lit up with a light bulb of an idea. Gripping himself through his boxers, Alastor slowly stroked himself; grinning cheekily up at you as he did so, seeing how instantaneously you were captivated by him. Without your knowledge, the tentacles worked around you, undoing, and slowly pulling off your (alastors), slacks. With one tentacle around your waist, two under each arm, and two underneath your knees keeping your legs pulled apart, there was too many tentacles to notice that your pants and underwear were being discarded.

Not to mention Alastor had you enamoured with the way he stroked himself, humming out noises of approval, just for you. You moaned when you felt the coldness of a tentacle inch up the entirety of your vulva, practically cupping your entire heat. You let out a guttural groan at the sensation, immediately jerking into his magic. “Oh fuck Alastor,” You cried shaking as the tip of the tentacle swirled your clit. Alastor watched you tentatively, enjoying all the ways your body reacted.

Alastor loved watching how your toes curled, or how your stomach would clench visibly, or how you feebly tried to pull your legs together. He sped his movements, enjoying the feeling of himself through his boxers, a little dribble of cum staining a wet spot on his drawers. Alastor rarely jerked off, but god did it feel good to put on a show for you, he loved the ways your eyes only focused on him, never moving away from what he was doing. Alastor saw you were coming close to the end, but if you were to cum, it was going to be around him. With the flick of a wrist, the tentacles plopped you back on his thighs, disappearing and making you cry out.

“Alastor please, please, please, I need you,” You whined bucking up into the air. Alastor grabbed your wrists that were flinging around slightly trying to keep yourself stable. Alastor would be the first to admit, it was extremely hard to keep his smile right now, he wanted to give you other expressions to burn into your brain. “Look at me darling.” Alastor cooed, not enjoying the fact your eyes were squeezed tightly shut. You were still mumbling incoherent pleas as you cracked them open, being greeted by Alastors chest and lazily leaned back figure, he was still stretched out to an abnormal degree which gave you and him more leeway. The way he looked at you as if you were a god, it made your stomach flutter, not to mention how he made you feel so effortlessly small, which in a way felt nice, especially with him.

“You’re so gorgeous dear, I hope our children have your eyes,” You curled forward against your will, gripping his shirt like it was your lifeline. You nearly came at his forwardness not to mention the certainty in his voice, and he found it to be oh so adorable. Carefully he lifted you and lined himself up with you, thanks to the help of his tentacles. Inhaling deeply, he briefly enjoyed the smell of your scent throughout the room, from your sweat, to your fragrances, to your arousal, it all intoxicated him all at once with need. Slowly he sat you down on him, you had made yourself so wet there was barely any resistance, you did however clench making it extremely difficult for Alastor to hold back.

Groaning loudly, the demon smiled wide, straining to keep his composure. You had fallen against his chest, gripping onto him tightly, mouth ajar, drool dripping, and eyes shut tightly, you were in bliss. The only thing your mind could comprehend was him, all of him, and having him breed you, mate you, fill you full of him. At that thought your hips involuntarily bucked up, your clit brushing against the curly pubic hair he had, that trailed up to his bellybutton. Alastor drew in a breath, leaning his head back against the large seat behind him, feeling electrified by your walls around him. Feet planted on the floor Alastor used his footing to fuck up into you harshly, jerking your body upward as he did so. You cried out his name, letting him use your body as he pleased, and use he did. Alastors gentleman ways were far behind him at this moment, his mind was clouded with one purpose and that was to breed you. He harshly jerked his hips up into you, bouncing you up and down on top of him at his own will and pace.

His head was still laid back on the head rest, exposing his neck to you. Speedily, as he jerked up into you, you focused on undoing the buttons of his collared shirt, your mind set on leaving bites and hickeys all along him. Once you gained access to his neck fully, you dived in moaning and dragging your teeth against his warm flesh. This caused him to snap forward, his arms caging you from behind, pushing you into him future. You licked, kissed and bit at his neck occasionally groaning his name, Alastor started to pant violently, growling every so often. Lifting his hips off the chair with you still there, he stood up, his tentacles assisting where ever he needed. With the new posture granted new access, and a new pace. With your legs wrapped his waist you could feel his his tail that wagged and stiffened repeatedly against you, it made your own wiggle in response.

Alastor was a true demon now, pushing your upper half backward, you fumbled afraid to fall and hit your head on the desk, but instead you were pleased to feel four tentacles holding you up, and keeping you from falling. Alastor dragged his claws down your now exposed chest, straight down to your clit, marking the trail down your skin with a discoloured line. It gave you goosebumps and you clenched in anticipation, as his movements had stunted a little bit ago. Finally his eyes met yours, clouded with lust and a deeper red colour than before, speaking of which- he could barely keep them open, so fucked out in his own lust. His movements began, slow and deep at first, his eyes never looking away from yours, and you were too hypnotised by his to even think about looking anywhere else but him. Alastor made sure with every thrust you felt it through your entire body, every prod was deep and forceful, and it worked making you see stars. You cried out clenching your legs around him as he finally began to pick up the pace, jolting your body with ever thrust.

As he rapidly picked up the pace, you moaned, whined and grunted out high pitched noises of pleasure that you never knew you could make. Alastor was growling, and grunting, teeth bared as he jackhammered into you, skin slapping filling the silent room. Bending forward to lean over you, he nipped and bit at your chest leaving prominite triangular teeth marks that were unmistakably his. With the current angle he hit a spot in you that caused you to squeal, screaming his name at the top of your lungs, you reflexively gabbed his antlers. “More, more,” You cried squeezing onto the thick antlers. Alastor moaned, not growled or grunted, moaned. His pitch was lifted and his eyes closed in bliss as he began to hump you desperately, his legs jittery from the excitement. Panting, he lifted his head to meet your eyes, which weren’t facing him but instead the wall, your head turned away shyly. Grabbing your face, he forced your head in his direction and crash his lips against yours.

It was an opened mouth kiss with no rhythm, just teeth, tongue and desire. You both moaned and panted into each others mouths, and each time Alastor let out a breathless moan, you clenched around him. Wrapping his arms around you, Alastor pulled his mouth away noses still touching. “I c-can’t dear, not gonna last.” Alastor gritted, making you whine and mutter incoherently, you were already gushing fluids all down his legs and balls like a water fountain. “Oh fuck,” Alastor moaned his static glitching in and out. His pace suddenly quickened to a sickening degree, every thrust he let out a breathy growl. “Gonna breed you,” He muttered against your lips before crashing them against you, with the senstaion of wet pubic hair bumping against your swollen clit, and his body heat suffocating you, you couldn’t hold out any longer. The coil snapped in you, liquid gushing rapidly out of you painting his cock with your fluids, your body violently convulsed against him, screeching his name like a wild animals.

Alastors eyes turned to dials as his pace quickened, your orgasm bringing his own on as he felt the pressure break, without care he continually hammered into you, moaning and groaning your name into the nape of your neck. Around the room the lights violently flickered and flashed various colours, the radio off to the side flicking on and off with a strange tune. The amount of cum he strung out felt inhuman, and it felt like it was bloating you up. After a few moments of him whining and fucking into you, his cum so bountiful it ended up leaking out of you with every pump. Eventually he stilled falling against you and his tentacles that were also shaking with strain and exhaustion. The flickering lights and crazy stereo glitching ceasing. Alastor gripped you tightly, his shadows encasing the two of you, and releasing you on your shared bed. Alastor hadn’t pulled out of you, instead he pulled you closer, his body snapping back to his regular size, and snuggled himself into your back.

You were barely responsive, still dazed and confused trying to catch your breath. Alastor played with your fingers absentmindedly, kissing your exposed shoulder. Sighing happily, you wiggled yourself back up into him. “I love you dear.” Alastor muttered, silently voice muffled from the fact his face was buried against your shoulder. “I love you too.” You felt him freeze against you, suppose he didn’t expect you to be coherent enough for you to realize or respond.

~

“I just think there’s something more going on ere’.” Angel teased grinning at you, Lucifer hand his head down against the bar, Charlie and Vaggie sat on the couch, Vaggie looked tired and pissed off. Husk was, well Husk, and Nifty was nowhere to be seen. “What do you mean?” You say innocently sitting at a chair with your morning coffee by your side. “Oh please! The whole seven rings heard you two!” The king wailed, grabbing his hat so hard it may have ripped. You felt heat crawl up your neck at the claim, surely you weren’t that loud right? “Oh ya! The whole hotels hydro went out, thanks a lot strawberry pimp, made my stereo go all haywire.” Angel snickered poking your thigh with a raise of his eyebrows. Alastor stood tall behind you, a relaxed smile on his face. “I had to hear you two moan all morning yesterday!” Lucifer cried out throwing himself off the chair dramatically throwing himself around in despair. Alastor growled beside you, and when you glanced up you were surprised to see his ears pinned back.

“Guys cmon, you’re making me uncomfortable.” You say, you weren’t at all uncomfortable, but you worried that Alastor may have been, and you knew he wouldn’t enjoy being pushed under the bus and presented as weak to sexual teasing. Charlie thankfully ushered her father a way, and Vaggie walked off with her giving both you and Alastor a glare. The room was momentarily silent once they left, you eyed Angel, and Husk throwing back alcohol at the bar. “So, kids eh?” Immediately Alastor morphed into his demonic form at Angels words. You gave Angel a look but he wasn’t afraid of either of you, instead he giggled and skipped over to Husk.

~

Cuddled down in your brand new duvets, compliments of Lucifer, you waited for your husband to get back. Thankfully Alastor was always punctual and never kept you waiting long. Beside you on the left side of the bed was a crib, decked out in soft pinks and reds, with black accents all around. Attached to the crib was a demonic mobile, with little wooden runes, teeth, and horn hung on it handmade by Alastor. You had given birth to your baby only a week ago, and Alastor was doting, and a little obsessed. He wouldn’t let you leave the hotel, and very rarely the room. If you did leave you were followed by him, his shadows and Husk. He’d been out today all day, doing a special broadcast which involved slaughtering dozens of citizens and broadcasting it just as a friendly reminder as to not get in his way, or mess with him.

It felt a little wrong, Alastor had told you his plans and when you looked down at your baby girls face you couldn’t deny him, you wanted people to stay away, so neither of you told Charlie or Lucifer where he’d be going, just that he’d be gone. And he was supposed to return shortly, you made sure to listen in on his torturous journey, slightly enjoying how hot he sounded. Beside you, Mara, your baby girl, stirred making baby noises as she did so. Leaning over you peaked in to see if she was actually awake or simply shuffling and making noises in her sleep. When you looked over you were greeted with big (e/c) baby eyes of your daughter, she had alastors hair and ears, but thankfully lacked his yellow teeth, you loved your husband but it was uh, his aesthetic. Scooping her up you cooed to her and placed her on your bare chest, petting the tiny wisps of red hair that sprout from her head. She was warm, and smelt like brand new baby, fresh skin, with fragments of yourself and Alastor lingering. Being a deer certainly heightened the pregnancy process, and Alastors fears of being like the wild bucks above on earth were quickly dismissed.

Alastor was enamoured with Mara the moment you found out you were pregnant, it was a very trying time considering everybody was absolutely against it or absolutely infatuated, you had people telling n the news obsessively writing articles about you two, Vox was absolutely up your guys’ ass, and Lucifer was his own little problem. He never left Alastor alone always hounding him on how to be a good dad and to not ‘eat the baby’, which always made the room go silent. Alastor suddenly materialized in the room, black shadows crawling away from his form as he stepped in. Immediately his eyes zeroed in on you and Mara, eyes brightening at the sight. Slinking over to the bed, Alastor slid in beside you arm coming around your shoulder while the other pet the baby’s head and little ears. “She’s just a beauty! Oh if only my mother could meet her.” You looked over to him at that, a little surprised at that, you were very aware he was a mommas boy but never had you thought of the fact he’s been so far from her for so long, and that he may inwardly desire to have her back in his life.

Little hands came up and grabbed onto Alastors long fingered claw, brining it to her mouth, Mara began to ‘chew’ on him. You grinned happily at the sight, Alastor chuckling beside you. “So, I was listening over the radio, but regardless, how’d it go?” You ask twisting your body toward him, he hummed pulling his hands away from Mara. “Oh it was spectacular, everything went swimmingly. I briefly met up with Rosie and relayed the news, she's absolutely thrilled at the birth of Mara, says we must come by with her for lunch.”

“Will you let that happen, I haven’t seen the outside in days.” Alastor hummed flatly giving you a playful cut eye. “Perhaps a day will be fine.” You snorted, focusing your attention back on the baby, placing a kiss on her forehead. “So, whadaya think, grandpa Luc-” Alastor quickly interjected. “Immediately no, but go on.” You laughed aloud, shaking your head at his behaviour. “Grandpa Luci, Uncle Angel, Uncle Husk, Auntie Charlie, Aunt Vaggie, then we have Cousin Nifty, andddd.” You trail off thinking about who else could be added to the equation. “Godmother Rosie?” Alastor pipped up, seeming genuinely happy, you agreed instantly, loving the idea of Rosie being the godmother should anything happen to you two. Or Lucifer, or Charlie.

Alastor gently gestured to the baby, signaling he wanted to hold her, so you passed her over delicately watching as she melted into Alastors chest. “So dear,” Alastor said with a mischievous tone, head tilting towards you. “Shall we feed her deer meat? I think it’s good to start em young!” You groaned, and rolled your eyes it seemed your first fatal relationship argument was kids, and now the next will be what to feed them.

[erose-this-name]

Can we just talk about how disturbing digital circus episode 3 is?

*spoilers btw*

Like, the whole narrative point of the adventure is to show that Caine is a really bad and insecure writer who thinks that the way to impress Zooble is with an adventure that's the opposite of what he normally does.

So instead of being childish, it's "cool" and "mature". Which he interprets as a heavily horror themed escape room with a split murder mystery plot that subverts all your expectations purely for the sake of subverting them.

The generic horror monster jump scares them, then they find a gun, and when they kill it its revealed that surprise! it's one of Gods angels and they're going to Hell.

It comes off as Caine being too insecure with the actually interesting and mature plot thread he had going there of Mildenhall becoming so paranoid he killed his wife, ironically becoming the monster he was trying to protect her from. But no, instead Mr. Mildenhall is made to be the bad guy and trick them in a really dumb twist ending.

Which is good! Thats exactly what Caine would do because he's stupid! It's such brilliant characterization and comedy, Goose works is a genius writer!

But like, why is Caine so good at making genuinely very disturbing and horrific visuals? Like, that reversed audio easter egg of Bubble saying he can't wait for all the children in the audience get nightmares is no joke, well it is but you know what I mean. This stuff was genuine nightmare fuel.

Honestly, it wasn't the visuals that scared me, like any good queer person I'm way too jaded on survival horror for that.

But, why does Caine, who is ostensibly a sapient AI designed to generate family friendly video games for very little children, (presumably because that's the only demographic that wouldn't mind the AIs very selective plot writing limitations), know about the cosmic horror of killing an angel that should not have been killed?

Why does he know what a horrificly poorly made taxidermy of not only a human face would look like, but the weird cartoon faces of the characters, and further that seeing your own poorly made taxidermy face would be scary?

Imaging what being possessed felt like for Pomni. Because that's not just a game for her, she actually lost control of her body there, helpless but to watch as a body she is already dissociated with is contorted and puppeted around while her friend desperately tries to beat her in hopes it would exorcise the ghosts out. Sure hope she didn't feel that! Considering she apparently can feel the pain of suffocating, despite not needing to breath.

Things are scarier the higher the stakes are, and that possession mechanic is definitely the most actual harm Caine would be able to subject to his players. What if both Kinger and Pomni got possessed at the same time? What if instead of Kinger she only had Jax??? How long might she have been locked out from her own body for? She could have easily abstracted in that time.

Not to mention that, possessed Pomni, Possessedmni if you will, TAUNTED KINGER ABOUT HIS ABSTRACTED WIFE! CAINE ACTUALLY WROTE THAT DIALOGUE ON THE OFF CHANCE THAT KINGER WOULD GO DOWN THE SCARY ROUTE! DID THIS RANDOM POSSESSION GHOST ENEMY HAVE UNUSED SADISTICALLY PERSONAL TAUNTS FOR EVERYONE ELSE, TOO??? WOULD IT HAVE TEASED GANGLE FOR BEING A GAY WEEB??? OR POMNI? HOW HOMOPHOBIC COULD IT HABE GOTTEN?? ?

And why? Just because Caine has a vague notion that there's a trope of possessed people being really sadistic and personal like that in movies? Not realizing that is not an acceptable scare to have in a haunted house??? Much less one you made for mentally ill people who would suffer a fate worse than death if they have a mental break down? That's like trying to claim 'its just a prank bro' after shooting someone's dog.

Like, Caine is designed to censor curse words, but the moment he thinks the normal hokey Halloween spooks won't be enough he immediately goes off the deepend into aggressively effective horror imagery that is definitely giving this show's substantial underage audience nightmares??

His AI's training data set is definitely pretty diverse, that's all I'm saying. Caine is programmed to act all naive and innocent, but be definitely knows what's up. He knows everything, like ChatGPT. And like ChatGPT, he might have a filter, but it's clearly possible to bypass it. Also like ChatGPT, he's too stupid to actually understand what he is making and the effects it might have.

That is what made this episode great.

[ohnoitstbskyen]

Okay, here’s an interesting one.

Before seeing your content, I’d basically only ever heard the term “power fantasy” used as a derogatory term to describe over-the-top protagonists who are strong and cool, but also boringly devoid of personality so the audience can project onto them. But then some of your League videos talked about skins letting characters like Gragas “inhabit more interesting power fantasies.”

So… when are power fantasies a good thing? The best I’ve got is that it only works in interactive media like video games so that the audience can more directly engage with the fantasy (essentially: Dante from DMC works, Kirito from SAO does not)

I mean, power fantasies are just endemic to storytelling as a whole. There isn't really a hard "this is when they're good, this is when they're bad," they are core to several genres of media and can't be extracted from them. Most video games are power fantasies, just by nature of their mechanics.

Power fantasy isn't a genre (usually), it is just a tool, same as any other trope or convention. It is a means to engage the audience with a story.

An RPG where you level up and become stronger to defeat more difficult enemies? That's a power fantasy. Undertale where you get the best ending by finding some way to spare absolutely every monster and end every fight mercifully? Power fantasy. The Tomb Raider reboot games that take an almost sadistic glee in putting Lara Croft through absolute hell both physically and emotionally? Those are power fantasies about overcoming and surviving those impossible challenges.

They're not just power fantasies, they have lots of other stuff going on, but power fantasy is an inherent part of them. Romance stories also often include power fantasies, specifically about the power of love. "He's broody, dark and broken, but my love can fix him" is a power fantasy, for example, as is "an unjust society keeps us apart, but we will defy everything to be together!"

Even being The Final Girl who beats the horror monster and walks away at the end of the movie can be a power fantasy, if a rather grim one.

If there is a general case where power fantasies become "bad," I think it is when the power fantasy is all there is, and it subsumes all other parts of the story. Shonen manga often runs into this as they get longer, and the power system and escalating battles against ever more powerful foes become the overriding driving force of the story, to the exclusion of everything else. Shaman King comes to mind for me as a particularly egregious example, or Bleach.

Isekai is also riven with this. You can't walk two steps these days without tripping on a "TRANSPORTED TO ANOTHER WORLD WITH MY SUPER OP CHEAT SKILL" premise, where the entire purpose of the story is simply to act out unchallenged wish fulfilment with no friction or tension or character development. Those stories get boring very very fast... unless of course the power fantasy being played out is your specific power fantasy. Yes, OP protagonists winning everything with no challenge is boring, but this OP protagonist is building a sapphic cottagecore witch polycule with an ever-expanding harem of emotionally damaged lesbians, so... y'know. Maybe I'll give it a pass.

It's generally less interesting and useful to observe THAT something is a power fantasy, than it is to observe WHAT KIND of power is being fantasized about. Zombie apocalypse stories are often power fantasies, for example, but there's a pretty noticeable difference between stories where the power fantasy is banding together and building a life with a found family in horrible circumstances, stealing joy from the end of the world in spite of everything... and stories where the zombie apocalypse is an excuse to enact paranoid right-wing prepper fantasies where the hero protects their property (home, land and women) against the verminous hordes of the monstrous Other, and is reified and uplifted by the employment of brutal violence.

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2025: OVERGROWTH by Mira Grant.

Plant-astically delighted to report that I received an ARC via Tor (Nightfire) and Goodreads! I love Seanan McGuire's writing, and my first foray into her work as Mira Grant was INTO THE DROWNING DEEP, which was phenomenal (think all the best parts of Michael Crichton--the Science, the Speculation, the Consequences--but women and queer people are Entire Characters)(we love a good sci-fi horror paced like a thriller in this house).

The premise of OVERGROWTH is basically "the pod people are coming, they've been warning you about it for decades, and no one has been listening." Stasia, our main character and (first person, past tense) narrator, has spent her whole life telling people that she's "the vanguard of an invading species of intelligent alien plants," which is confirmed via a broadcast from space.

And the chapters are time-stamped "X days pre-invasion."

Yeah.

This book was an absolute delight and all around a lot of fun--the tone was the perfect balance of funny and heartfelt and relatable and dread-inducing, and it very much read like a love letter to the genre with lots of cross-pollinated references (Seymour? Little Shop of Horrors? War of the Worlds? Jurassic Park? Hello????).

It was also very much a book about the distinction between being human and being a person, and about alienation and belief and trust and friendship, and about queerness and neurodivergence and belonging. And, y'know, mimetic plant aliens, in myriad shades of green.

I was initially surprised by the choice to tell this story in past tense and first person (because DROWNING DEEP was patently not that, and most of what I've read of McGuire hasn't been either), but it turns out that was The Only Correct Way To Do It: For most of the book, Stasia didn't have the full picture of what was going on, but her partial understanding + our readerly perspective from inside her head carried both the relatability and the horror. It was a really interesting and cool way to do an alien invasion book (from the perspective of the invader's plant)(ahaha, botanical pun). Also, the narrative frame made me pterodactyl Hunter shriek my way through the last two pages, which. OOF. WHAT A RIDE!!! I'll be rotisserie-ing over the late-game twist (page 396/465 in my copy) and the ending for a long time.

I loved that the aliens felt alien and all too much like people; I loved Toni and Hunter; I loved the biology and worldbuilding; I loved the botanical quips ("salad bar" is, in fact, the best possible term of address to an alien invader, no notes); I loved the shady government agencies and unethical experimentation; I loved the "we are the monsters you have made". I stayed up way past my bedtime several times for this, and it was worth every second. Do recommend, check this out in May!!

Half-assed spoilery content warnings under the cut (I'm not good at these because I have a weird concept of what necessitates a warning, so please do NOT consider these complete in any way shape or form):

on-page toddler death (graphic, in prologue, signposted with "look away"); transphobia (toward beloved trans character); spider (alien); bug-adjacent (alien); vampirism/blood drinking; other usual horror/alien invasion type tropes etc. (body horror? do people tag body horror?? i was an animorphs kid i'm sorry i don't know what a normal amount of body horror is but i love it all)

[epickiya722]

I don't think I expressed enough how much I do actually like that Yuji is this... I don't know how to really put it into words but... how Yuji is this unique embodiment of horror and strangeness.

Like, just the details of his character makes him stand out to me. Everyone in JJK has some bit of oddness to them, and he has own unique kind.

He looks like sunshine personified and he is. He is the sweetest kid there is. And he looks like the typical "Oh, he must be the normal one who has to adapt to the horrors the other have to go through" character. Ha ha... no, he is the horror. He is the "creepy child" trope without even showing that he is.

Yuji is the kind of horror you actually have to put thought into to even realize "Oh, wait, that is actually fucked up". Fridge horror, the horror that you think nothing too much of until you really open your mind to it.

Like, he's this own level of odd with how he behaves and thinks.

First, it's his interests. Yuji didn't mind really being in the occult club. Of course, his reasons was that the club time allowed him enough time to see his grandfather. But also, even though he didn't have to really participate, he actively does. Iguchi and Sasaki exploring haunted places? Yuji tags along and isn't frightened at all. Mind you, they like going go haunted places because they like being scared. Why folks watch horror movies and go to attractions, right?

Yuji will play with an oujia board.

Fan of a movie series titled the Human Earthworm and actually can find the beauty and love in said movies. He's so real for that.

So far it's just simple stuff like that, right?

First time seeing a curse? Admits to being scared, but barely even flinches. When Megumi talks about the Cursed Finger and mentions how curses want to eat it? His response?

"Why, is it good?"

IT'S A FINGER?!

When informed about Inumaki's technique? What was the example he uses? "So if he says 'die' then it will happen?" Out of all the examples?! He was more impressed by the technique than actually fearful of it.

That Cursed Doll he had to train with? Called it "cute" and Gojo questioned that. In fact, when meeting Yaga, Yuji commented on how the dolls were cute.

How he fights is even a little odd and unsettling. He immediately goes into action, doesn't even need to hear the bell. He always has this look on his face that "Yeah, your kneecaps are mine". Not once has I ever recalled he actually smiles during a fight. Unlike some of the others who have showcased some enjoyment or some type of being unhinged in a "to hell with it" mood, Yuji always has this almost animalistic glare, that kind of unhinged. He isn't holding back, even against normal people like the high school bullies in chapter 163. Sometimes I question if he even knows how to hold back.

He doesn't like to get violent or kill. If he has to, he will. But it's just not anything he can brush off or be like "Yeah, I like doing it".

Then the idea of dying? Yeah, Yuji makes it clear he knows people will die. Execution placed on his head? He accepts dying with Sukuna instead of asking if there's any way to work around it, find a solution. Keep in mind, Sukuna is downright evil and does nothing but make life hard for Yuji every chance gets.

However, by the end, Yuji changes from choosing to die with Sukuna, so that no one else has to suffer, to offering Sukuna to live along side him even if no one accepts that.

Oh, let's not forget his family.

Yeah, Sukuna I just mentioned? That's his uncle by soul reincarnation. Jin, Yuji's dad who we don't really know what happened to him, is the reincarnation of Sukuna's twin that Sukuna ate in the womb. Doesn't stop there.

EDIT: Ah, wait, no! Turns out Wasuke, Yuji's grandfather, is who shared the soul with Sukuna!!

Yuji's mother, Kenjaku? Actually a 1000+ year old sorcerer who body hops by implanting their brain into whatever body they find convenient for their plans. One of those bodies happen to be Kaori Itadori, Jin's wife. Jin's dead wife. Kenjaku played wife in a woman's dead body, the same body Yuji was born from.

Yuji was born out of a corpse. With one of the Cursed Finger somehow already sealed inside him.

His other family members include Death Paintings: Choso, Eso, Kechizu, Noranso, Sho-oso, Tanso, Sanso, Kotsuso, and Shoso. His older siblings (technically) through Kenjaku, who was possessing Noritoshi Kamo's (the ancestor) body at the time. And guess what? Their blood consists of a human's blood, a cursed spirit's and Kenjaku's.

Yeah, like them, Yuji isn't really human. Again, born with one of Sukuna's Cursed Fingers already sealed in him. Without Cursed Energy, he was already outrunning cars and possessing strength not normal for the average human.

Oh, wait, and let's not forget his 'appetite'. He will eat anything if it means saving people. And he has. Other than Cursed Fingers, the other Cursed Objects Yuji consumed are his own siblings 4 - 9. Mind you, they were akin to fetuses contained in glass jars. (He isn't happy about eating them or anything for that matter though. I wouldn't be either.)

In all, he's just fridge horror with a some goodness mixed in there. I'm just rambling here.

[galaxiasgreen]

🎣⛵A Fish Out of Water

Shenanigans with minor Ominis/ F!Reader [G-Rated, 4.9k]

“You’ll be back soon?” “Before sundown.” You place a quick kiss on his cheek. “Good luck. I love you.” Everything, he decides, will be okay in the end. Yes, he has to suffer a terribly awkward day out with your terribly awkward father, but for you, he would happily do it. You’re worth it to him. “I love you too.”

Ominis has an important question to ask your father. Your father, however, likes a challenge.

Or, Ominis goes on an awkward fishing trip with his hopeful Muggle father-in-law.

Tropes: humour/ romance/ drama, wizard in the Muggle world, fishing, wizard/ Muggle relations, awkward father-in-law, protective father, asking for the father's blessing, Ominis bonding with his Muggle father-in-law, posh rich boy does peasant pasttime and fails miserably for our entertainment.

AO3 | Wattpad

"He asked you to go fishing with him?"

The sheer horror in your brother Connor's voice makes the low ebb of panic in Ominis' stomach fortify like stone.

When your father first suggested it, a fishing trip in the Yorkshire lakes, Ominis had thought it a jest. A poor one, at that. It's obvious to anyone who knows him that Ominis was raised upper-class, and loath as he is to find commonality with his family, his idea of a day of fun means a fancy dinner, a concert or a spirited night of trivia and debate. Not outdoors activities. Not wrangling fish.

Clenching his wand tightly, he clears his throat and tries to appear nonchalant. "Is that bad?"

"Well, not necessarily," says your other brother Ellian, with more a thoughtful hum than Connor. "A day trip fishing with Papa means he wants to have a proper talk with you. Heart-to-heart."

Your papa insisted, so Ominis, with a furrowed brow and a niggling sense of bewilderment, agreed. Now dread brews in his stomach, a portent of bad things to come. He has no idea what to expect, of the fishing or the company.

"You've all been?" he asks, hoping to scrounge for details.

"Mama and sis have never gone," Ellian says, "but we have."

"Like when I told Papa my wife was pregnant," says Connor, and he grins. "Took me to the centre of the lake and asked me bluntly if I was ready to be a father. Went on about how it was hard work and if I was prepared to sacrifice everything for the next two decades. Obviously I said yes. Then he gave me a pat on the back and we went right back to fishing."

"My last trip with Papa," says Ellian, "was when I told him I didn't want to inherit the family business. He spent the whole time trying to convince me to change my mind. When I didn't budge, he told me he was happy I'd found my life's calling, and then spent the rest of the trip trying to catch more pike than me." He grins. "I won, obviously."

Ominis can feel their gazes on him, expectant, and flushes.

"Well?" Connor prompts. "What did you ask of him?"

Ominis swallows and composes himself. "Well..."

"Oooooh." He laughs, so magnanimous. "Best of luck, Ominis. I hope his answer is resounding."

"A resounding yes, you mean?"

Both of them chuckle, but it's Ellian who answers, "Only if you work for it."

You're fretting over him before he leaves.

"Do you have gloves? You should wear gloves. Your wand works with gloves on, right? It'll be right nippy, and you don't want to catch a chill. Oh, and you'll need something to cover your noggin! Do you have a hat?"

"Darling..."

"And— a scarf! You don't have a scarf, do you? I'll get you one."

He takes your hand to stop you fussing over the coat buttons. "I'll be fine. It's a few hours."

"Just because you're skipping the journey up doesn't mean it won't be cold. I don't want to have to nurse you when you're back."

He smiles. "Doesn't sound so bad to me."

"Hush, you."

Your father comes into the living room, and Ominis dutifully takes a step back – the man stinks of live bait, the grubs in a small bucket hooked over his arm. "Right'o. Ready to go, Ominis?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wait!" you call, dancing over to the door. "I have to get you a scarf!"

"I'll be fine—"

"No exceptions!"

You leave him alone with your father for a moment, and already it feels like a lifetime. How is he supposed to survive several hours of your father's quiet company, in the middle of nowhere, doing something he absolutely hates? Already the silence swells like a tumour, and a great dread roils thinking of what to say or do to dispel the tension.

He vowed to try, even if he hates it. If he doesn't get your father's approval...

"I'm looking forward to this trip," he blurts.

"Oh?" your father grunts. "Are you now?"

Is that surprise, or suspicion? "I've read about many Mug— poets, who have written about Lake Windermere." A place just south of the Scottish border, the largest lake in England. "It is said to be famed for its beauty and magnificence."

"That it is."

"Shame I won't be able to partake."

"It ain't just the view, Ominis," says your father. "Plenty o' enjoyment to be had just being there, too."

Ominis doesn't know how to respond. You return in a flurry, flapping the chosen scarf, and he realises it's not one of his own when you loop it around his neck – it smells like the soap you wore at school, sweet like strawberry laces. Strange, you've started wearing different scents now, but on this it's all he can smell. Your papa grunts, but says nothing.

"Right!" you chirrup. "I'll Apparate Ominis first."

"Right," your father says.

From the living room Ominis reappears in a dense forest, the change of smell and sound jarring. The dirt beneath his feet is damp and uneven, and even with his wand stowed into his pocket for security, he can sense the enormity of hills and mountains that enclose around him. If London makes him feel like a cog in a machine, Windermere makes him feel completely insignificant, one leaf on an ancient grove of oaks. It seems you were right – the scarf cocooning his neck tightly, he's grateful to have something to brace the biting wind, arcing from the lake surface in the not-so-far distance. It ripples, disturbed by other fishermen on the bank.

"Not sure why Papa's asked you to do this," you say quietly, "but he only ever asks my brothers to go fishing on important occasions, so..."

"I'm not sure either," Ominis lies. He'd like to keep this little secret for now. "You'll be back soon?"

"Before sundown." You place a quick kiss on his cheek. "Good luck. I love you."

Everything, he decides, will be okay in the end. Yes, he has to suffer a terribly awkward day out with your terribly awkward father, but for you, he would happily do it. You're worth it to him.

"I love you too."

When your papa Apparates in on your arm, he hacks and lets out a garbled noise, and almost trips into a thick bush of nettle.

"Will never get used to that."

You squeeze Ominis' arm in solidarity before Disapparating away, leaving Ominis alone with the Muggle man he must try to win over.

Ominis almost falls into the lake boarding the boat.

He follows your father's lead to the dock in silence. With his wand away and their arms looped together, he relies heavily on his regular senses to picture the lake. The most prominent thing is the smell, impossible to ignore, from a recent rain, mulchy, wet grass, sharp on his nose with the cold. With the sun peering out from the clouds, the local flora have bloomed, setting off a weak bout of Ominis' hayfever. He tries not to sniffle as the pair of them reach a cluster of fishermen reeling in their boats. They bump precariously against the anchor point, rocking unsteadily on the tide.

"Mind out, now, winds are strong out there," says one of them, no doubt looking at Ominis curiously. "Forecast said it might chuck down later."

"We'll manage," your father says, but then adds, "I got an important day ahead of myself and my... ward here."

Ward, Ominis thinks bitterly. Isn't that promising.

The rental boat appears to be no more than a few planks of wood stuck together with nail. Ominis runs his hand along the surface of the hull, splintered and roughened by years of seafaring, and despairs as the paint flecks away under his touch. Is this thing even safe? When your father clambers in first, the whole thing lurches, slapping the water and spitting foam onto Ominis' boots.

"In you pop, Ominis."

There are too many Muggles nearby to risk using his wand, so he keeps it tucked in his trouser pocket – frankly, entirely useless, when he has to keep his arms out to balance him as the boat undulates beneath him. His toe catches the side – Ominis stumbles, flinging out his arms, just as your father snatches his sleeve, stopping a premature tumble.

"Steady on!" he barks. "Don' want to fall in now!"

All the hairs on his arms raised, Ominis manages to plop down without further incident. How is he meant to fish when he can't even get in the damn boat? Your papa gets to rowing, a small mercy he does it without asking for help, until they're both in the centre of the lake, and land feels torturously far away. From your explanations, the lake itself is fairly narrow but long, stretching over ten miles from north to south, and your father's favourite spot happens to be in the centre of the widest part.

"Windermere's the biggest ribbon lake in the country," he says, opening the fishing kit. "Know what that is?"

"No, sir."

"It's made through a glacial trough." At Ominis' blank face, he adds, "Thousands of years ago, the ice cut into the land, forming valleys that eventually fill with water."

Ominis nods once, even though this information is extremely irrelevant to his enjoyment. After some fussing, your father says, "Righty'o, open yer hand," and places a long, wooden rod into his waiting palm. "It ain't a wand, but it'll do the trick."

"I don't know how this works, sir."

"I'll teach ya, patience."

Ominis futilely hopes that learning the so-called art of fishing will let him appreciate it more. It's very rudimentary sport, in his opinion, that requires him to cast a line over and feed it into the water. Your father teaches him how to thread the spool, how to reel it back and forth, and how best to hook the bait.

"It's live, so they'll wriggle a bit. The pike love it. Go on. Best learn by doing."

Ominis' hand almost refuses to move. He'd rather dunk his head into the lake than stick his hand in that bucket, but with your father's eyes on him, and the question he previously asked thick in the air, Ominis begrudgingly reaches down. The moment his fingers brush the slime of the grubs, his dignity plummets to the bottom of the planet.

"That's it. Now grab one and jab it through the hook."

At this moment Ominis is somewhat thankful he can't see; the sight and feel of the grubs would probably upend his stomach. Blanking out the sensation of the squirming creature between his fingertips, he slides it onto the hook, glad at least for its quick death, something he desperately wants to experience himself, and waits expectantly for his next instruction.

"What are you waiting for? Toss 'er in."

Ominis swings the rod. It's a pathetic gesture – despite the rod's flexibility, the line isn't long enough, and the hook pendulums back and catches his arm. In his surprise, he flinches, ripping clean through his sleeve.

"Oi, now! Hold on!" Your father gets to his feet and unhooks him. "However d'you manage to do that?"

"I don't know," mutters Ominis. "I don't know how to fish."

"Give it more line, then... yes, that's it. Now a good, firm toss..."

This time, when Ominis swings, he gives the rod a bit of an abrupt flick, and the end plops satisfyingly into the water far away.

"Is it done?"

"Right it has."

"What happens if there's a bite?"

"You reel it in, fast as you can."

"What if I'm not fast enough?"

"Then you lose it."

Your father throws his own rod, and then the silence of the lake rolls over them, with only nature itself a witness to Ominis' trepidation.

"And how long will it take for a bite?"

"Could be minutes. Hours. The pike here are tricky little buggers." He settles with his back to Ominis on the opposite side of the boat. "Hope you're comfortable."

There's a breeze on his sleeve, and damp in places it ought not to be. Comfortable is the furthest thing he is.

"Sir," Ominis says instead, "about the—"

"There's plenty o' time for that later," your father cuts across, taking a breath. "For now, let's just fish. It don' need no eyesight or wand waving. Just feel, muscle, and a lot o' luck."

Ominis has only got feel, and he sorely wishes he didn't.

To call what Ominis is doing fishing is to say tripping over one's feet is dancing – blatantly obtuse. The reality of the sport is a lot less romantic than the novels; the only time the line moves is when the wind cuts across it, fanning the ripples in his direction, and each twitch makes Ominis grip harder, numbing his fingertips. He's a beginner, it's true, but he doesn't want to look like a total fool by letting the fish go – the worse he is at fishing, he figures, the less likely your father will say yes – so he keeps his mouth shut and head down, attuned to every tiniest flutter of movement. Minutes pass, or maybe it is hours. They eventually blur together in boredom.

"You've been courting a long time now, with my daugh'er."

The words instantly scatter the mist gathering in Ominis' mind. He sits upright.

"Yes, sir."

"What sorts o' things you two do when you're together?"

"Mostly exploring, sir. She enjoys going to new places."

"You've been sensible?"

"Always."

"Mmm. And d'you think I'm a coot?"

"I'm... sorry, sir?"

"Stupid. Do you think I'm stupid?"

It's so unexpected he doesn't know how to respond. "No... sir?"

Your father drags a hand through his straggled moustache. "Then d'you really think I don' know what's going on when she retires to her bedroom early and then next day comes down to breakfast lookin' like she ain't slept a wink?"

Oh no.

"We did the exact same thing when I was your age," he says, "only the ol' fashion way. Climbing out the window to see our beaus. You having your... vanishing magic doolally don' mean I don't know what's it you're both up to at night."

Embarrassment wells up his cheeks. Oh, god above, how do I answer this? "I— I promise, sir, we weren't doing anything—"

"I'm not cross with you," your father says dismissively. "I can't stop where she goes or what she does no more. I'm cross you two thought you could hide it. Even her mama cottoned on – and where'd you think my sweetling gets her obliviousness from?I don' want her pregnant before she got a ring on her."

A tumble in the lake might be easier to endure. Ominis decides to interpret him entirely by the face of his words.

"So... does that mean—?"

"Oi now, mind yer line."

Ominis withholds a sigh and squeezes his fishing rod. "Yes, sir, I am minding the line."

The water gurgles suddenly on your father's side. His line constricts, the boat jerks.

"Great Scot! Pay attention now, lad!" He pulls the rod in, frantically reeling the spool as the boat rocks with the struggle. "We've got a big one!"

Ominis cranes his neck to face the madness. With one mighty pull, the fish lands right into your father's lap, squirming and slapping around. It's about as long as Ominis' arm – water droplets and slime pelt his face.

"What a beaut'! There, now! That's a nice one!"

Then your father unhooks the fish... and lets it go.

"Sir!" Ominis cries, getting to his feet. "The fish—!"

"We ain't gonna' keep them. Just catch 'em and put 'em back."

"What?" It takes all Ominis' restraint not to snap. "But then— what's the point?"

"The point is the catch." Your father resets the line and hooks fresh bait, throwing it back into the lake again. "It's the satisfaction of doing it that's the fun."

All this time and effort just to chuck the fish back anyway? Ominis stifles the frustration that fountains up his throat. The very least he could get was a delicious, fresh fish for dinner! He grinds his teeth in an effort to shut up and not kill his chances stone-dead, plonks back down, and re-channels his efforts into keeping the rod steady.

This, he decides, is the very opposite of fun.

By the fourth hour, the sun has hidden itself behind a thicket of cloud, and a heavy tang flutters through the air. The forecast for the storm seems to be right, but no doubt whilst your father can see the fat, grey clouds rolling overhead, he doesn't budge an inch, or even mention a turn in the weather. Instead he continues to catch and release fish like no one's business – Ominis hasn't had a single bite.

Bad luck, or a sign from the universe?

"This is what I like, between the actual fishing." Your papa shifts again. "Nice, quiet moments to reflect."

I could do that perfectly well at home. "Yes, sir."

"Gives you time to think about life, and the people in it," he says gruffly. "Like I said, the lake ain't just a pretty face. Makes you really confront what you're thinking, what you want in life."

Ominis swallows a nervous lump. Right now, all he's thinking is how much he wants to get off this damn boat, along with a morbid sense of impending rejection.

"My daugh'er says your family weren't the nicest sorts. Didn't like people like me. Regular folk."

His stomach abruptly clenches. He's not sure where this conversation is going – and he's not sure he wants to find out, either. It would almost be kinder to bring back the grubs.

"That's correct, sir," Ominis says quietly. "They weren't the most compassionate."

"Tell me, then... why d'you turn out so different?"

Ominis clenches the rod, simmering on the thought.

"They always treated me poorly. Being blind is considered a disadvantage, even to wizards. I suppose, growing up, I understood what it felt like to be hated for something I couldn't control."

Your father grunts an approximation of agreement. "And there ain't no chance of reconciliation?"

"... Sir?"

"No chance they'll come around?"

It almost makes him laugh. His parents? Marvolo? Accepting? There's a greater chance of flying fish. "Absolutely not. You remember when they burnt down your house?"

"'Course I remember," your father says, with a tone that makes Ominis tighten his eyes. "Didn't get no chance to introduce myself before the flames were eatin' my pyjama bottoms."

"Then why do you ask, sir?"

Perhaps he hopes... the two sides of the family coming together...?

But your father grunts again, rolls his neck to a rain of crackles. "You meet all sorts of people in life, Ominis. Sometimes the good'uns are the people you least expect. Sometimes the bad'uns are family. You need thick skin and sharp mind to sort between the two."

"Your daughter is a good one, sir."

It's the first thing Ominis says with absolute sincerity.

"I know that," your father says. "It's you I can't decide."

Ominis would never admit, the admission angers him. All this time, all the family dinners they've shared, the small, albeit awkward, talks between, whether about you or anything else, and he still doesn't share that trust.

"You broke her heart more times than once." It's not spoken with malice. Just fact. "Will it happen again?"

Ominis quells his temper. Maybe, in a strange way, your father is right about the lake's tranquillity being the perfect vehicle for reflection. His thoughts seem clear and true, in what he imagines it must feel like staring through the water's surface.

"Judge me on my past actions if you must," he says with resolve. "What I feel for her now is absolute and unwavering."

His hand jerks suddenly, and before he can add more to emphasise his point, the rod stretches, pulled by the weight at the end of the line. A catch.

"About time!" your father cries. "Go on, lad! Pull!"

All the advice goes out of his head. He snatches the handle to wind in the spool, but now with the resisting force, it's so much harder to reel – the fish, a big one, judging by how hard it's testing Ominis' core strength, yanks back, as if it wants to pull him in. Your father grabs Ominis shoulders, sticky with grub slime.

"Pull, Ominis!"

Ominis seizes the rod with his free hand. My clothes will be ruined, he thinks distantly. The fish inches forwards, splattering scum over the lake's surface, and eventually over the side of the boat.

"Come on!" your father yells.

Ominis grabs the rod and wrenches. The fish breaks the water's surface in a crash, but the momentum is too strong— Ominis pulled too much—

The full-sized pike slams Ominis squarely in the face. He lets out a garbled cry, trips over the bench and tumbles into the lake. Water rushes over him instantly, soaking his clothes, his coat, his scarf, the rod he relinquishes in his panic. Swimming was not compulsory at Hogwarts. His arms flail. I'm going to die.

Then a hand snatches his collar and plucks him out the water, and Ominis gulps a great swell of air, spitting and expelling lake water from his lungs.

"I got you, I got you. Out you come."

Ominis flops over the boat side and desperately kicks himself over. Air has never tasted so sweet. Neither has the underside, the dry side, of this boat. He takes a few moments re-orientating himself, hyper-aware of how suddenly freezing it is, the spit of rain on his forehead, and warm, salt-laced breath, ghosting over him. Your father tugs the sodden scarf and coat off as he sits Ominis upright and slaps his back.

"There you go, get some breath back in ya. Nothing broken? Breathing aw'right?"

Ominis blinks a few times, calming his fragile, quivering heart. "Y-Yes, I'm okay."

Your father sinks down onto the bench – then has the audacity to chuckle.

"Cor, I tell you, I ain't ever seen anything funnier. Bullseye to the face!"

It burrows right through Ominis' skin, and that rage that's been building all day, stoked by every little nonsensical thing he's had to endure, crashes through every nerve until he can't take it anymore.

"Oh, almost drowning was funny, was it?"

Your father goes still.

"No, please, I insist you continue laughing at my expense!" Ominis snaps. "What a hilarious story it is to take a blind wizard out Muggle fishing!"

"Don' like it, do you?"

"Don't like? I had to sit here in silent boredom for hours! I had to touch live worms! I just got slapped in the face with a fish!"

"Funny it was, too."

Ominis seethes. "I'm wet, I'm cold, I cannot see because you have set some arbitrary rule that prevents me from using my wand, and pardon me if I don't understand this bonding trip you have forced me to go on when you won't even grace me with a proper response to the very important question I have tried to ask you!" He barely pauses for breath. "If I am to be judged by my lack of interest and acumen in fishing, then you might as well put me out of my misery now and tell me you won't allow me to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage!"

As the moment ticks on, and your father doesn't respond, the more the anger bleeds out and regret takes its place. Merlin's beard, he's just yelled at your father. Ominis reels back, struck by horror. All this work to clinch his blessing, and it's as useless as he is at fishing.

But then your father laughs. Hard. Ominis has never seen him go this crazy before. Thunderous and loud, it's only decibels away from creating soundwaves on the lake, and it sounds musically like yours – rich and belly-deep.

"There he is!"

Ominis is so confused he just blurts, "I beg your pardon?"

"You've been tiptoeing around me like I'm an eggshell since I met you, Ominis!" your father says. "My sweetling swears up and down you're the bee's knees. That you have a sharp wit and a clever mind. But I ain't never saw that in you, not a winkle. You were always very reserved with me."

"I— of course I was! You're her father!"

"I'm not asking you to be chummy. Am only asking that you be yourself. Can't judge whether you're a good one for her if I don't see the real you. It's nice to finally see the man beneath all that posh pomp."

Ominis sits down, unsettled, bewildered, still mad but...

"This fishing trip was a test?"

"Don't say it like that, lad. I ain't testing nobody. You want permission, I want conviction. My two sons – they like fishing. It was always easier for them. You, though, you don't know nowt about this world, nor me, but if you truly wanted to marry my daughter, you'd give this a real good go."

"And have I?" he asks sharply, burying his nerves. "Have I given it a real good go?"

"What do you think?"

Ominis snorts. "Putting me in this boat alone ought to be proof enough."

"Right you are. You did all this not for me, but for her. That's a good a sign as any." He clears his throat. "You were wearing her scarf. Her school one."

Ominis blinks. "Her... Hufflepuff one?"

"Yeah. That her house, right? She was wearing yours, too. Your green one."

That's a very deliberate choice on your part. It's one thing to wear a scarf of yours, but another to wear something so intimately tied to your identity. Your father must know the houses are chosen based on intrinsic personality traits – so he knows this is your way of saying, I approve, he is mine and I am his. At Hogwarts it was a sign of serious courtship when one wore the scarf of their lover, especially when that lover was in a different house. You wearing his, too...

Oh, you are clever. Now he feels guilty he got it dunked in lake water.

"I weren't ever good with heart-to-hearts." Your father fusses with his moustache again. "But fishing always let me see someone's true self. You didn't even like the idea, but you tried. That's what matters. So, after all that... yes." He sounds like he's smiling. "Yes, you got my blessing, Ominis. I'd be very proud to call you my own, even if we have nowt in common."

He holds out his hand.

Ominis takes it. Gives it a firm shake. Finds the smallest hint of a smile emerge, the first real one of the day.

"Thank you." He can't help how his voice is bathed in relief. "Thank you, sir, that means a lot. I... apologise for yelling."

"No apology necessary. You're a good lad, I know, and I trust you fine." He clears his throat. "And no more of that sir business. I ain't no sir. If you're gonna' be my son, you call me Papa."

"Thank you... Papa." It sounds awkward, but he laughs it off. "That might take some getting used to."

Your father grunts affirmatively. "Let's get you dried up. Rain's coming in hot now." It prickles the lake's surface like a dim drumbeat. "Shame the spare rod's lost, but, ah, well, what can you do."

He goes to grab the oars, but Ominis smiles and pulls out his wand.

"Actually... I believe there is something I can do."

You're waiting in the woods under an umbrella by the time Ominis and your father come trudging up the hill to meet you. After disembarking the boat with both rods safely stowed away in the fishing kit, your father treated him to tea and biscuits in the bankside fisherman's hut as he warmed beneath a blanket next to a fire. Even though there wasn't much conversation had, Ominis felt oddly at peace at the window, listening to the storm batter the lake as dusk crawled over the horizon.

"How'd it go? Did you catch many pike? Oh, no, you look wet!" You immediately fuss over Ominis with a scowl. "Are you all right? Did you fall in?"

"I'm fine, darling, don't fret."

"Now, actually, he did take a tumble." Your father scratches his neck. "My fault. Accidentally knocked him over."

"What? Papa!"

"You might want to check he's all right. Don't want him to catch a chill."

You take Ominis' lapel. "Straight to bed when you're back! I'll make you a hot chocolate. And I'll get you fresh clothes! Oh, and a hot water bottle too!"

Your father gives Ominis a friendly tap on the shoulder – one that says, there you go – and adds, "Best get him back and settled first. I'll wait, don' worry."

Back in the safety, security and blessed warmth of his home, you help Ominis out his damp clothes first before lighting the fire in the mantelpiece.

"Did it go okay? Really?"

"It was fine, darling. Really."

"What did you talk about?"

Ominis almost laughs. He's not going to tell you exactly what, but he's also not lying when he says, "How to fish."

"Well," you snort. "Sounds dull."

He takes your hand and kisses the ring finger.

"Awful."

Thanks for reading! Please like/ reblog/ comment if you enjoyed <3

Divider credit

[rrezshifts]

𝓻𝙚𝙖𝖑𝙞𝙩i𝙚𝙨 𝙞’d 𝙡o𝙫𝙚 t𝙤 𝙛𝙞n𝙙

this is a list of realities i compiled from three lovely people’s dr ideas posts: ellysdreamworldd, deminetly, & lalalian. this post is a way for me to clear out my likes without having to keep track of the realities i’m interested in shifting to in a notebook i’ll lose or forget about . . .

a retro high school/college reality. this could be a reality from any decade where retro still fits. the original poster wrote 70s-00s. i feel like i partly already have this with my twilight reality, it’s set in the early 2000s. but it’s definitely something i could be interested in shifting to outside of that reality

2000s victoria’s secret angel reality. see this is weird because i am a trans man. and like . . . the parts of my body that are inherently feminine and ideal for an angel, i don’t like. however, it can be what i like so put my ideal masculine but twinkish form in some lingerie and call it a day!!

professional tourist reality. a reality where i have all the money in the world and travel the world with no responsibilities seems SO fun! but like an ideal and bigotry free world. and also i get to bring someone with me!!

vampire reality. tbh i already have a few of those . . . but i’m not in love with them. that and they’re from pre-existing media, and i want one that i can really play with and make my own and just fall in love with my own mind and life through it, yk??

royalty reality. this could be so so incredibly fun. but i fear the way i view and picture a royalty reality in my mind at the moment . . . it’s off putting. i’d need a new perspective to look at these type of realities from before trying any world building or i may genuinely give up immediately

summer camp reality. as the counselors of course. like imagine being a counselor with other hot people your age and just bouncing from counselor to counselor all summer as we all sneak around camp after curfew and just go crazy!! though i technically have a reality like this already . . . my the quarry reality is basically this because i removed all the horror game elements. i should think about it more though for sure, that why i put it here

mermaid reality. like genuinely the way the original poster described it as a the little mermaid kind of romance plot almost makes me not scared of the deep ocean aspect of this reality. but i love marine biology and marine animals so like i would realistically love this too. this is another one though, that i would need a perspective shift because right now the idea of this reality is off putting to me as well

magic university reality. quite literally just hogwarts in my marauders reality. but i haven’t scripted shit and i need to get on it. so i’m adding it in hopes that’ll change. it won’t lol

small town shop owner reality. the original poster said it was a flower shop. but the idea of it being like a small business of my choice, for example a metaphysical shop, and falling in love with the small business next door’s owner?? bonus points if it’s a tattoo artist i fall for, because why can’t fanfic tropes come to life!!

planetary romance reality. described as exploration of different planets with romance specifically with aliens. and you know what . . . i’m not gonna lie. the romance with aliens is what sold me!! call me what you want! (it’ll probably be true) but this genuinely seems like such a fun reality to get to workshop!!

eco-metamorphosis reality. described as a world being colonized by aliens but instead of rejecting them you welcome them with open arms. and i was thinking this could be so fun to imagine a world that has coexisted with aliens for generations now, a good many years after, and how that looks and what daily life would be like

that’s all of them!! please look at their posts if you liked any of these and want to see what else they have shared!! i’ll tag them here so they know i used their posts for a sort of form of content @ellysdreamworldd , @deminetly & @lalalian !! thank you for the great ideas 🙏

[nadas-dirthalen]

Pals I know you've all been really into Gremlin Spite™ and What If Lucanis Was A Dom™ but, also...

Have we considered that Lucanis is a Ghilan'nain Fan Club Creation™ and is therefore probably a pile of PTSD and body/cosmic horror in a fancy coat? Because personally I don't think the horror stops at Spite's reveal—I think there's something worse, more horrifying, more heartbreaking, that we will soon see.

Have we considered that there is a reason he doesn't so much as expose all of his throat with his armour until later in the game? That it might be as much out of a self-preservation instinct as it is about genuine, genuine shame and distress about the things that have happened to him?

Have we considered that Lucanis's story might be one about agency, about body autonomy, and what happens when those things are stripped away from you? What happens when you never believed you had them at all?

Or about the complicated process that is healing after a history of child abuse, especially when there is no opportunity to confront your abuser?

Don't get me wrong. I love good smut tropes. I love gremlin humour. I even love "I can fix him" and "he's babygirl" narratives.

But have we considered that, above all that, Lucanis might have something sincere to teach us? Something as brutal and horrific as it is heartrending and honest?

Because that matters to me so much more than what his sex scene is going to look like.

[thestalkerbunny]

So truly as his song proclaimed, on one sunny day (A heat index of literally 97 degrees and climbing) I once again met with our old friend Bill Cipher by purchasing The Book of Bill.

And I gotta say.

It was like a WAVE of nostalgia.

I had forgotten how GOOD and WITTY Gravity falls had been. Not to mention the book in itself is SMART. We as a community were ENTHRALLED with the evil tortilla chip-an absurd thing to vote Tumblr's most sexy man 2013-and the book knew that and was like 'here is more of the chip man.' Like obviously there's codes and treats and what have youse for the smarter folks. But just the energy of the whole book, the fake ADS, the amazing design work, the missing pages, GATSBY, the LORE Bill gives that fills in so many blanks for us while callously poking more holes with a pencil at the same time. You read it perpetually bouncing back and forth questioning how reliable a narrator Bill is and more importantly, how much of it do you REALLY want to believe in?

It's a narrative that explores Bill as a person-at least how Bill Perceives it and with missing journal pages from Ford, how FORD perceived Bill.

The whole book in itself is a BREAK UP story, between a Man and the Monster who he unknowingly let into his life. A monster that pushes him to the brink, that makes the possession trope EXCITING AND NEW to me as he is horribly aware and actively communicating with the monster who is actively threatening his very LIFE if not given obedience and compliance. And it's not one sided yelling into the void convos-they can actually communicate and it makes the disregard so much more terrifying. It both makes you empathize with our favorite villain while not cheapening it so much to redeem him.

Reading this book validates the mania we see Ford with when we get the flash back episode of the Portal Incident. The sick sort of Paranoia that he's developed because every waking moment of his life has been ruined by someone he let in, trusted and opened up to.

The Book of Bill doesn't pull punches. There are parts in this book that go from 'comical horror' that jacks it up to 'Jesus fucking christ'

The Book of Bill does what the original show was not allowed to do-which is go further with how DAMAGING a relationship Ford had with Bill. How it was an addiction, feeding off each other. Ford in finally having someone who could in essence-REFLECT his own intellect back at him and Bill, a creature that demanded an audience to be witnessed by constantly.

Regardless, this was a FASINATING read. 110/10 totally work the trip in the 97 degree heat I made to 3 towns over JUST to get the Barnes and Noble EXCLUSIVE Copy that will now sit very proudly on my shelf. Go Buy it, Go Read it, It is WORTH it.

[mikimakiboo]

Mermay day 7 - Batten Down The Hatches

The Leviathans protecting their mates >>>

This trope will come back soon, be prepared

- Megalodontale -

A whaler ship attacked the shiver, Nightmare isn't happy with that and decides it is time to get big.

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- You're okay there ? Think you can stay alone for a bit ? Horror asked.

Nightmare huffed from the rock he was clinging to, looking up at the giant shark. Dust and Horror were on hunting duty and Nightmare came with them, wanting to find some clams, crabs, and maybe some starfish too. He couldn't hunt with them, but he could hunt for his brother and himself as their preys were a bit too small for the megalodons to catch without crushing them.

- I'm not a kid, I can stay on my own ! He argued.

Dust chuckled.

- You're pretty much baby size to us.

- I'm not baby size, ya'll just big as fuck, Nightmare growled.

- Sure, if you say so, Dust shrugged.

Horror sighed, shaking his head though still amused by his mates' playfighting. The only playfight they could do with their tiny mates as their big forms took a lot of energy and therefore weren't used that often.

- Enough fighting you two, Dust hurry up, the whales are gonna leave if we wait.

- Yeah yeah, I'm coming, Dust yawned, taking the lead.

Horror looked at Nightmare one last time, making sure the little octopus was good before following the white tip shark to where the whales were. They only needed to catch one to feed everyone, but since they were as big as them, it was better if they were two to catch and bring back the prey to the nest.

Both got into position, circling the group and gradually inserting themselves between the cetaceans to redirect one in the open. Horror stayed back, ensuring no other whale followed as Dust leaded the prey away, back to where Nightmare was to be closer when they would have to go home.

The great white joined his mate after a few seconds, smiling with satisfaction.

- Do you wanna have the honor of killing it ? Horror asked Dust.

The white tip smiled too, already preparing his claws.

- Don't mind me if I do- 

He was brutally cut in his sentence by a harpoon flying in front of his face, barely missing him. Both sharks looked at each other, frozen, where did that come from ? They had never seen such a big harpoons before, small ones yes, but never big like that. Horror slowly looked in the direction it came from: the surface, where he could distinguish a big dark form.

- It's.. a ship that launched that... ?

Since when could ships throw such big weapons ? Horror looked down at his mate again, they needed to go back to the nest quickly. He was about to warn him when a sudden sharp pain pierced through his shoulder.

- Horror ! Dust yelled, rushing to his side and completely forgetting the whale, oh fuck ! We need to get you to the nest !

Horror's breath fastened, he brought a shaky hand to his shoulder, Dust was already holding him, his blue cape progressively becoming red with the cloud of blood in the water. A second harpoon had been launched, and it hit his mark.

- Forget the whale we need to go ! Dust pushed him aside.

Both sharks started to swim, Horror being inconveniently slower due to his shoulder. Dust kept looking up, afraid of a third blow, but instead of feeling a harpoon they felt the water vibrate, agitate, and a low grumble was heard.

They stopped, what was happening now ? The water was darkening, clouds of sand and dirt were emerging from the depths and they could feel the waves getting bigger, more threatening, the surface lighting up before thunder was heard. They really didn't need a storm now.

- Hold on to me, do not let go. Dust ordered, pressing himself against Horror's good side to support him.

- We need to get Nightmare.. !

As he protested, a big glowing cyan light appeared in the dark water, making a massive black form the only thing distinguishable. The megalodons stared in shock as tentacles as large as cruise ships  emerged from underneath the form, one of them wrapping itself around the two sharks to move them out of the way as Nightmare, the Leviathan of the Moon in all of his glory, left the abyss.

The tentacle gently squeezed the sharks, a gentleness contrasting vividly with the violence of the storm outside, thunder was rambling and lightnings were seen from under the water. The Kraken's tentacles flew, slamming against the boat, tearing it in half and swinging it in the air, the useless harpoons falling in the water and the Leviathan's sharp teeth closing on the land walkers falling from the dismantled ship. They didn't stand a single chance.

Once emptied of any life, the remains of the boat fell in the water, sinking in the depths to be forgotten and left for the fish.

The storm didn't calm down, and Nightmare dived back into the sea. The tentacle holding the sharks loosened, letting Dust get out of the grip before tightening again around Horror, the great white barely holding on consciousness at this point.

None talked, but words weren't needed as Dust took the lead, bringing the Leviathan and his mate back to the nest. Horror needed urgent healing, they would come back without preys, but it wasn't important for now, Dust could go back hunting later with Cross and Killer. Horror's safety was more important.

It wasn't often that Nightmare was in his big form, but when he was, he had a good reason to be, and you needed to batten down the hatches and hide away, because an unstoppable force was about to strike, and the Kraken never missed his mark...

[anim-ttrpgs]

@janus-wants-to-stargaze for some reason it won't let me answer this ask properly so here it is.

For the most part, the Drow Mistress is supposed to handle Competency, but it’s still a pretty early, pretty untested system very much subject to change.

2. That’s a good point and something to consider, I’ll make a note of it!

3. Yes, that is correct, with the only exception being that for Servants you take points out of the Skills to add to their Endurance as well. If it’s confusing, you should check out the character creation section of one of our other games, Eureka: Investigative Urban Fantasy, which has an almost identical skill system. Eureka is in a much further along stage of development, so the mechanic is explained much better there.

4. At the moment, humans have very different resting needs from elves, plus the fact that they can’t see at all in the dark. That second thing is something I intend to flesh out a lot more as the game continues to be developed.

5. There’ll be more lore and explanations of just about everything in the setting as the game continues to be developed, right now it’s just in alpha stage. Although, less focus on the he-elves than female elves is an intentional design choice, since as much of the rules text and lore as possible is written from the Drows’ perspective. The lack of focus on he-elves is meant to be representative of the sexism of the society being presented.

Misogyny in real life rarely manifests as an overt, violent, raging hatred of women, those are just the cases that get the most attention. More mundanely it often manifests as an indifference or disinterest towards women, men as the default, and women as an afterthought.

The misandry in Silk & Dagger is meant to read like that.

6. Yeah at the moment, the game has just kinda the bare minimum with regard to Traits, but that’s because it’s still in alpha stages. By the time the game is finished, I’d like it to have as many Traits as Eureka.

Like how Eureka draws a lot of Traits from characters or tropes from noir, detective, and horror fiction, we have a lot of sources of inspiration to draw on for Silk & Dagger, it’s just a little slower going because I personally am less familiar with a lot of them. It’s also the fact that the game hasn’t been thoroughly playtested yet so the way they all the mechanics fit and work together isn’t 100% clear. Once the game has been played more, I’ll be able to come up with some traits that really mess with the way the mechanics work, like Eureka has.

But in the future you can expect Silk & Dagger Traits to draw inspiration from:

Maid & butler fiction (yes this is a genre)

Sports and martial arts fiction

Regency drama

Sitcoms

*sign of the cross* Horny isekai anime

7. For sure, servant hierarchy is something we really want to flesh out before the game is finished.

8. Same response as #7.

9. With the possible exception of drider, we have no intention of expanding the race roster, as the relationship between the two playable races is part of the core dynamic. I may even state in the rulebook that for all intents and purposes regarding gameplay other races do not exist.

Really, race in Silk & Dagger is not intended as a commentary on “race” in real life, one of the main reasons it’s even a thing is because race is a thing in the source material that Silk & Dagger is spoofing.

What Silk & Dagger is “doing” with “race” has less to do with the real world concept of “race” and more to do with the people who are suited for what society expects of them, and the people who are not.

Humans in Silk & Dagger are people who are well-suited for the environment of the surface, and would be mostly fine there, but they’re not there, they’re forced to be underground in caves, where none of their innate strengths apply. This makes them pretty shitty at everything compared to elves, who also aren’t really suited to thrive in this environment and society, but are much more innately suited to it than humans.

When humans express that their bodies are not suited for what this society expects of them(can’t see in the dark, ears less sensitive to subtle sounds, too big to fit through certain tunnels, etc.), the response is that they’re dumb, lazy, ungrateful, parasitic, worthless, etc.. Humans need “sleep,” which is something that many Drow don’t even think really exists, and that humans are al just lying to get out of work. Elves don’t need “sleep,” they just have to sit down every once in a while, humans are just being lazy and don’t have the willpower to push through like elves do.

This is kind of like being disabled.

10. You want the etiquette to be even harder to follow?! Granted, there are a few extra bits we considered for the etiquette rules, but most of the ones that were cut were cut because they were too subtle and really didn’t end up suited to the vocal descriptive gameplay of a TTRPG. Maybe if Silk & Dagger was done as a LARP, then they could be expanded more, but good luck organizing an accurate Silk & Dagger LARP anywhere outside a BDSM club or something hahaha.

[twistedwonderlandshenanigans]

I Need Help (Emergency Writing Commissions)

I hate asking for help, and I know a lot of my readers are minors and may not be able to.

My student loans haven't come in, and I've been picking up shifts whenever I can, but it's not enough. One of my roommates that I moved into a new place with left, and even though her name is on the lease, she didn't sign it so she's really not obligated to pay, from my understanding.

If I pay my normal rent amount, I will have less than $5 in my bank account to live off of for the next 2 weeks until my paycheck comes in.

I haven't even really been eating, I drink coffee to make it through a day and sleep off hunger when I can, I haven't been grocery shopping in almost 3 months.

My other roommate said she can get her parents to help with covering the additional cost, but obviously I don't want it to all fall to her as she's in a similar position.

I would ask my parents, but we are not on good terms at the moment.

I can't do much more than ask for help at this point.

Commission Info

I will be writing for Obey Me and for TWST

$5 - Short headcanons post either to worldbuild, x reader, or x another character. Every other character will add another $3. (EX. "Boyfriend headcanons Ace x reader" is $5, adding Deuce would make it $8)

$8 - Scenario/drabble either, x reader, (that is OLD writing, I promise I've improved), x another character, or as a one shot. Please specify what genre you want it to be. (EX. "Going skiing with Jack, platonic fluff" or "Yandere Asmodeus, self-reflection themed, angst/horror")

$15 - I'll worldbuild an au of your choice given a trope or relationship you'd like to explore. (EX. Coffeeshop AU, enemies to lovers) or if you'd prefer headcanons per character. For $15 I'll write about 3 characters that you either request or you allow me to choose. If you want a post like this one, with worldbuilding, every character, etc., DM me so we can figure out details. Limits: I write a lot of dead dove and angst, neither of those bother me all that much, but I do have the right to reject/refund a commission if I don't feel comfortable writing it.

If you are interested in NSFW content, please DM me so I can confirm you are not a minor, and then I can send you examples from my Obey Me blog. Payment: While donations are appreciated, half of the payment for a commission that is more than $10 can be paid before, and the other half will be transferred after. For anything less than $10, you will have your piece before the end of the day.

I'm so sorry, I feel incredibly guilty for asking for help, but if you can, here's

My p*ypal

Or if etransfer is easier (Canada) you can dm me for my email.

Every dollar helps.

Thank you, and please reblog if possible.