#reader be like “I'm doing my part!”

[eternaltempest]

Not A Fighter (Oneshot)

Roboute Guilliman x Fem Reader

A/N: Heyo, I've never written publicly before, I've written to myself just never posted on public forums. A friend encouraged me to post so I'm giving it a whirl. I'm also really lost when it comes to tags so *shrugs* So sorry if it's rough around the edges, but here goes! Hope ya'll enjoy -3-

S: You were recruited by Guilliman himself as a personal chef/secretary, strictly professional. But lbr it didn't stay that way for long. He works too much for his own good so you drop by to provide him some... nourishment

fluff? add a little bit of spice

Macragge's Honour glides silently through a starlit abyss. On the flagship, in a dimly lit room, a certain blue Primarch clad in his robes haunches over his desk, surrounded by the soft glow of dataslates and servo skulls. Scouring over countless documents and scrolls relating to only the Emperor knows what. It is silent, the peace half broken by the shuffling of papers and the scribble of ink on paper. Just the way he liked it.

His ridiculously long desk is in the middle of an office that dwarves a typical administrative room. Its style is a mirror of the rest of the flagship but decorated with shelves upon shelves of books, scrolls, and tomes. It boasts a ceiling of incredible height which would put to shame any chapel or imperial temple. Necessary on account of the Primarch’s stature when compared to a normal person. Or at least a normal Space Marine. 

You knock at the towering double doors and it shakes him from his concentration. He shoots the quickest glare at them before he goes straight back to his tasks. He hates being interrupted.

“Enter.” 

The right door opens and you push your way through it, dressed in a robe of light amaranth. The cloth contouring just enough of your figure to demand a second glance, yet still leaving much to the imagination. Half of your hair let down, and the other half held up by adorning laurels of shimmering gold. You enter, pushing a metal cart with a cloche and pitcher of hot water. 

“Good evening, Lord Guilliman.” 

His focus remains unbroken but he takes note of the soft voice that issues its greeting.

“What brings you here?” 

He responds sharply, preferring to keep whatever business this is brief. 

The sound of wheels on the marble white floor cuts across the room until you stop just to the right of his desk. 

“It is evening, my lord. You have been working tirelessly for some time.” 

“Leave it. It is of no consequence.” He mutters without even bothering to look up. 

You stay silent and remain at your spot next to the cart. The lack of response finally breaks his gaze on his work and up to you, only to immediately be pulled back down as he commands. 

“I will not repeat myself.” 

“Oh you needn't, your Excellency. I understand you are quite enthralled with your work. I, however, seem to find myself with an abundance of time.” 

The scribble of the pen stops followed by a moment of silence. He looks up, this time his eyes meet yours in a solemn defiance. He sighs deeply, too text weary to argue and too exhausted to fight the insistence. 

“What is it that you have brought me?”

You quickly open the cloche; revealing a set of chalices alongside an assortment of small dishes and what seem to be agri berries.

“A variety of berries and fruits to nourish and hydrate you. The berries have been soaked in a solution to enhance not only their flavor but also vitamin intake. I prepared samples of amino-porridge packed with sauteed caba nuts. Then we have a helping of triglyceride gel that I have seasoned with spices from the agri-world of-” 

You continue on, attempting to keep it short but informative. Guilliman eyes you closely, taking note of your form and graceful movements while you serve him. 

He had conscripted you to serve as Mistress of the Imperial Refectorium directly under him. 

He did so not only for your uncanny talent at gastronomy but also for your capabilities as an administrative assistant. You not only taught Refectorial serfs to make delectable food but also handled the logistics of the kitchens on Macragge and onboard the various imperial flagships. But only ever accompanying him. Always with him.

“Your Excellency? Are you listening?” 

A barely-visible frown tugs at his lips as you begin organizing his paperwork to clear a space for his meal. 

“Do not call me that. I loathe when you call me that.” 

You let out a polite huff as you draw nearer to him. There is no wasted movement when you serve the plates neatly in front of him. Your locks cascade in front of him, their sheen is reflected by the light of the candles and data slates. He can't help but be tempted to reach out to them, but your sharp retort brings him out of the momentary trance. 

“And I loathe when I am ignored.”

You sneak a glance at the documents sprawled before you. 

“Besides, I'm sure these old scrolls can wait a few brief moments while you eat?” 

“No. I have much to do. I’ve no time for frivolities.”

Your face falls, and you bite your bottom lip in silent disappointment. But you quietly turn to look at him, you trace the crevices of his face that dance with the candle light. You love how they adorn him, like scars after years of being bombarded by the Astra Administratum and Militarum alike. His strong hands glide across paper, the pull of his muscles stretching up his forearms and ending at his rock solid arms. His bicep alone dwarfed your head. By the Emperor, he was radiant.

It had been a long time since he had donned the Armor of Fate after he was attempting to wean himself of it. 

Much to your delight. Even if it once was keeping him alive, you were glad he was able to go longer periods without it. He looked appealing with the armor on but all the more so when it wasn't obscuring his magnificent form.

You cast one last lingering look before an idea forms in your head. Keeping his dismissive remark in mind, you start packing your collection of dishes back on the cart.

The sudden clatter steals his attention and he double takes when he notes your curt repacking.

“What are you-”

“You're absolutely right, my lord. You have no time for such things. That's why I am going to make time.” you snap, not letting him finish his question.

“What?” 

“I am going to help you. That way you will have some time to eat something. Frivolous as it may be.” 

“Wait I-” 

You blatantly ignore him and start moving the towers of papers, surrounding yourself with them and making a spot for yourself on the desk. Your head darts to and fro, searching for an extra pen flimsy. 

“I said wait!” He says with more urgency than he intended. He grabs your arm, freezing you in place. 

You look down at the sudden contact. Then your eyes find his, slowly, and perhaps more intimately than they should. Yet you say nothing.

“Stop, I…” 

He lets out a barely audible exhale, softly placing his other hand around the small of your back. 

“I was only… ” 

He flicks his gaze down to his paperwork. He truly did not want you to go. Although he knew he would outlive you for many more millennia, you were one of the very few people he learned to appreciate. He had known many in his expansive life but they treated him as he was. A leader, a Primarch, commander of the Imperium. Second only to the Emperor himself. Which was not out of the realm of expectation, but he hated that too few treated him as you did. As a person. A friend. 

“Only what? …Roboute.” You cock your head in an attempt to peer into his eyes once again.

You didn't care for title or rank and you spoke plainly. He adored the bluntness. After years of service, and essentially taking care of him, he came to care for you in turn. 

Primarchs had no time or drive for frivolities like interpersonal relationships. But your frankness and jovial attitude grew on him. And soon something of a partnership had formed. A companionship, only occasionally taking a page out of Fulgrim’s book in considering you anything like a consort. 

Of course… The latter was known only to the two of you. A Primarch does not have time for the sweeter pleasures in life- especially not the Commander and Lord Regent of the Imperium. At least not much time. This, however, he had decided was one of those times.

His hand snakes around your waist and he pulls, yet she does not budge. 

“... Roboute.” you protest, a low warning in your voice as you put a hand on his arm that rests on your waist. 

Your gaze goes from him to the door. 

“There's no need to worry about unwanted distractions, I made sure to secure the locks.”

He grabs your hand and holds it in his. He peers into your eyes, a warmth enveloping the two. You can no longer resist a tender smile and you slide your hand onto his cheek. He's cold to the touch, a stark contrast to the heat of your hand and he inadvertently nestles into it.

A soft chuckle escapes your lips “Are you aware you have very little resistance when it comes to these things, Roboute? You don't put up much of a fight.”

He peeks open a single eye and responds curtly “It is widely known that I am not a fighter. I excel more as a tactician, an administrator.” 

“Hah! That's the understatement of the millennia.” You say with a toothy grin as you shoot a look back down at the mountain of documents on his desk. 

Though he is sitting and you remain standing, you still have to tilt your head up to match his gaze. His titanic stature truly makes you feel minuscule in your 5 foot something body. But behind his size you know there is a sadness, a weariness from the overwhelming weight he has on his shoulders. 

He notices you peering at him and tries another tug at your waist.

“You do not need to do anything. Just stay here. With me.” He whispers in a low voice. 

A grin tugs at the corner of your mouth. You pull up the hem of your dress, cautiously sliding onto his broad lap. As you do, you plant a silent, tender kiss on his cool cheek. He brings you both closer to his desk and he goes straight back to working. 

A brief moment passes before you realize that his attention has once again focused on the matters at hand. Irked at how quickly he delves back into his boundless work, you have a sudden idea. You throw your arms around his neck and bring your lips up to his ears. 

“Ro…” you whisper, your breath caressing his ear. 

A shiver creeps down his spine and he lets out a stifled groan.

“Do not distract me, woman.” 

His reaction drives your mischievous mood and you rest your head on his unarmored shoulder. 

“Distracting am I?” You nuzzle into his neck and purposely talk into his skin. The reverberations of your voice sending another synapse of sparks through him.

Another strained breath slips from him “Stop, ngh, teasing. This is important.” 

You giggle, the sound an angelic hum in his ears, but nevertheless distorting his focus. 

“I'm not teasing. I'm relaxing you.” 

Before continuing, you reach back toward your cart. You clutch one of the succulent agri-berries and silently pops it into your mouth whole. 

You reach over and pull at his chin, tearing his sight from the desk below. 

His brows cross in momentary disasperation, a hue of pink teasing at his cheeks. 

“My laurel, I-”

You cut him off by bringing your lips together delicately, before pushing the berry into his mouth with your tongue.

“Mrgh!” 

He breaks the kiss, taking your shoulders in his hands and mutters between full cheeks. “I had asked you to keep me company, not beguile me.” He protested. 

“I am keeping you company, my lord. Would you like me to do so again?” you coyly asked with a bemused smile 

He narrowed his eyes and grumbled, promptly returning to his scribbling. 

Your brows furrowed in annoyance and you huffed while you set your chin back on his shoulders. Glancing at his now red hot ear, you gain yet another sly idea. 

You lift your head cautiously, making sure he does not stir from your movement. The glint of your incisors reflect the light of the surrounding candles as you abruptly bite down on his lower earlobe. 

The sudden stab of pain draws him to a pause, his voice resounding with both curiosity and agitation.

“Was that a bite?” 

You leave little time for him to properly react further before you sink your teeth into his neck. You bite down, tender enough to not draw blood, but firm enough to leave a throbbing imprint. You finish it off by dragging your tongue across the fresh mark and replying playfully- Somewhere in the reply, a hint of provocation.

“I can do a lot more, Roboute”

[deoidesign]

Wearing your boyfriend's jacket

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

K follow me Astarion just sees tav like loving on children wherever they go and hes like?????

And tavs like ive always wanted my own child but i didn't wabt to ask you with every

This sends poor starion into a crisis does he was children how many

I think I have followed you. Let's see!

So for this one we got a lil time jump, ambiguous and vague setting and timelines with game spoilers present. M/F pairing because that is my go to and pregnancy is mentioned. Vampiric pregnancy also so there is some weirdness there (i made it up no idea if it's dnd accurate). Vague Tav backstory of a wonderful mother and going off to become a cleric.

~

Astarion was well used to your antics by this point. You had a severe lack of instincts linked to self-preservation, which led to a consistent pattern of doing, frankly, stupid shit. Stupid, but kind. Nothing that Astarion hadn't adapted to, after nearly two years of being attached at the hip you became pretty attuned to your lover's personality.

He could even go as far as to say that he had grown to love your annoying predilection for pious morality. Perhaps he loved talking you out of certain virtuous dangers more, but still. He appreciated who you were, he adored who you were. But Astarion was no saint, despite his insistence on attaching himself to one.

Which is exactly why he was far from amused when you signed him up to babysit a couple of brats. All for acquittances he barely cared about.

But you at least had the good grace to look guilty, "I didn't mean to! But she looked so tired and she said their anniversary was coming up and it's not like we got anything for their wedding-"

That was a nice try, one that Astarion wasn't falling for, "We didn't know of their existence when they got married darling. Just because I can't remember their names doesn't mean you can trick me."

"I'm not trying to trick you!" You whined, arms crossed as you pouted. It sure felt like a trick, especially when Astarion knew that you were well-aware how easily he fell for your sulking. Adorable little monster that you were, "It's only three kids and a baby for one night, it won't be that bad! You don't even have to help-"

Astarion rolled his eyes as he sat next to you on the bed, "I didn't say I wouldn't help."

That seemed to do the trick to get the pout off of your face. You perked up immediately, looking at him like you couldn't quite believe it, "Really?"

"Yes, really," Astarion sighed as you tugged you closer. Sure he liked to bitch, but he really would do anything for you. Even extremely annoying things like this, "I'm not going to sit back and feed you to the wolves."

"They're not wolves! The oldest is barely five," You laughed as you let him manhandle you, settling you into his lap, "And I am sorry, I really wasn't thinking. I promise it won't happen again."

Astarion doubted that, not when he was well-versed of your weak spot for children. No matter where you went you couldn't help but fawn over them, not to mention the insane lengths you would go to keep any child safe. It was a complete and utter blind spot, your kindness extending to them all, even the little scam artists and hellions.

It was sweet, if not extremely worrying at first. Astarion had been terrified of you finding out his past. The things that he had been forced to do, the innocents whose lives he had destroyed. But not only did you find out, you were forced to see it. Both of you were, and it had been worse than anything Astarion could have imagined. He had always found a slight comfort knowing that those he captured would at least die quickly, that at the very least they wouldn't suffer the same agonizing fate as he, just an agonizing death. But no, even that small comfort had been a lie. The horror of finding them all down there has yet to be matched. He had never felt more self-loathing, more pure disgust than the moment he had found those children, tortured and pale, all because of him.

How you didn't see him for the wretched thing he was after all that, Astarion wasn't sure. But he was grateful. You were too good for him. A fact that he was devastatingly aware of, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping you.

He still thinks about it on occasion, despite the fact that he had done all he could to right his wrongs. They all at least had a chance now to have a life worth living, Astarion could only hope that it would be used. Their future was out of his hands now, a small comfort.

But despite his complicated feelings towards children, he was more than capable of handling them for one evening. And in all honesty, he truly didn't have to do much. He was on self-mandated baby duty, because of course you had to help out the infant that would scream bloody murder unless it was being held. Keeping her tucked against him was a move of self-preservation, if he ever wanted to retain his hearing.

Most of the night was spent amused as he watched you entertain a gaggle of toddlers. You were so... creative with the ways you could defuse their antics. It came to you so naturally, nearly like you were a born mother yourself. It wasn't exactly surprising that you were fantastic with children, he had seen it time and time again. Arabella, Mol, Yenna, all of which still wrote you letters, visited occasionally. Staying forever attached, even from a distance.

Now that Astarion thought about it, it was odd that you weren't a mother. Odder still that you hadn't never even brought up the possibility of having children together. You were usually so open with your wants and always encouraging the same from him. Just one more thing he loved about you. But... why hadn't it been mentioned? Astarion had always assumed it was because you didn't truly want any of your own, that you enjoyed their fun innocence while avoiding the more laborious responsibility of raising them.

Though watching you take care of them all, changing diapers and negotiating silly arguments with a soft smile of your face had him rethinking his assumption.

"You're good with them," Astarion said eventually after you had successfully set the older three down for the night, the baby still stubbornly clinging to him, "I don't think there's a child we've met that doesn't adore you."

You laughed quietly, walking over to kiss him softly on the cheek. Your eyes wandered to the sleeping infant in his arms, still holding a piece of his shirt in it's little fist, "You don't seem to be too bad with them either."

"Newborns don't know any better," Astarion dismissed as he tried to put her down in their borrowed crib. Tried and failed, considering how the thing immediately started to whine the second he attempted to pry it's little hand away.

Oh for fuck's sake. Astarion wasn't even going to try and argue. Instead he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall into the crib with her, seemingly doing the trick of stopping her from waking completely.

When he turned back you were staring at him with soft eyes, looking lovestruck at the simple act of him laying a child down, "Looks like she has pretty good taste to me."

"I don't think your judgment should be trusted," Astarion huffed as he walked over to you, grabbing your hand to drag you to the bedroom. He glanced back at you, his heart nearly skipping a beat from the sweet way you kept looking at him. It had his mind wandering again, those questions still nagging him.

Questions that he didn't have the courage to ask until dead of night, when he had you half asleep against his bare chest, "Have you ever thought of having children?"

He hadn't meant to blurt that out in the middle of the night, but Astarion apparently had a knack for starting important conversations at inconvenient times. Not that you minded.

You just cuddled into him closer, nodding against him with a sigh, "I've always wanted my own children. My own mother, Gods bless her soul, made it all sound so magical. Pregnancy, the early years, puberty, all of it. She loved it all. And I guess it rubbed off on me. It used to be all I could think about, before real life got in the way."

Astarion listened, a little annoyed at himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. You had talked so lovingly about your late parents, how you always wanted to be like your mother. Of course you would want children. How had he not connected the dots?

"But then I went off to the temple," You continued, "I completed my training, went off into the world to do good, blah, blah, blah. You know the story."

"So you grew out of the idea?" Astarion asked.

"Not exactly," You admitted, sounding a little guilty, "But I would never ask that of you love, it's not something you have to worry about."

That-what?

Astarion stared down at you, brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I know that the topic of children is... difficult for you. Considering everything you've been through-"

"I think you mean to say everything I've inflicted on others," Astarion interrupted, unwilling to allow himself grace. Especially when it came to the children of the Gur, "It was much worse for them than me."

You nodded, knowing better than to try and fight him on that particular topic, "I understand, but my point is that I can live without them. You're all I need."

It was comforting to hear, an immediate balm to a brand new set of insecurities that Astarion hadn't been prepared for. But even so... he hated the idea of you sacrificing even more for him. It felt wrong, "But-"

"But nothing," You interrupted softly, setting a quick kiss to his mouth, I'm serious Astarion, you don't need to worry. I'm happy, I love you, and everything is fine."

"I love you too," Astarion murmured, at a loss to say anything else. But the conversation didn't end there.

Astarion couldn't stop thinking about it, even long after the temporary children were sent back home. ou seemed so... sure that he didn't want children, and a week ago he probably would have agreed. But that was back before he knew that he was actively keeping you away from something you wanted. Something you had dreamed about since you were a child. And it felt wrong to be the reason for that, so, so wrong.

He didn't even know if his true feelings on the matter were real. He didn't want children for many of the same reasons he never wanted a partner. The attachment to another was dangerous, he was beyond unequipped to deal with others, let alone care for them, and the entire ideology behind love was ripe for manipulation and heart break. But then he met you and everything changed. Suddenly, caring for another didn't feel like a weakness, it felt like the strongest aspect of his entire self. Taking care of you wasn't an unwanted duty, it was intimacy. Something that he now craved. If all of those steadfast ideals could fall apart simply through meeting you, whose to say he could even trust himself when it came the thoughts around having a child?

Would having one truly be so bad? A little piece of the two of you, alive in the world? And perhaps children were annoying but... Astarion would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for them. He had kept his distance before, but now he was fully confident that he wasn't a danger, no with Cazador burned to nothing bus ash and his own bloodlust well controlled. And it's not as if he was incapable of being a father, worse men than him did it everyday.

It was a confusing place to be, this tightwire of indecisiveness. Confusing enough for him to start a bit of research. He was vaguely aware that it was possible for his kind to breed, but finding out the details was disheartening, to say the least. First he had to parse out the different horror stories of babes eating their way out of their mother's wombs with actual facts, which wasn't exactly pleasant. But the truth was that it was more than possible for the two of you to have child together. It had the potential to either be as noneventful as any pregnancy, with the cavate that the babe coming out looking slightly... dead wouldn't be a permanent state of being. Or it could be as risky as carrying a child could be, with pains and complications galore, even legitimate worries of internal bleeding from the wretched thing prematurely growing claws. Not to mention the occasional, intense blood lust that could occur, an experience that Astarion would prefer you didn't have to go to.

Looking into the reality of the choice didn't help as much as he had assumed it would. If anything it just made the whole situation more real. Even if he wasn't a vampiric spawn, childbirth was risky. Maybe not as risky for you considering how Astarion would move the heavens and hells to get you the best care possible, but still. The thought of you passing, leaving him alone with the child you wanted and would never see, would destroy him. Completely and utterly.

But then again... there was the magical alternative of everything working out just fine. The two of you were both beyond lucky in that regard, considering how you'd overcome mind flayer parasites and fought and won against a near god. It was more than possible that everything would be fine, that you would have a beautiful pregnancy that would end in an even more amazing child. Then two would become three, a family of his very own.

That... didn't sound too bad. Astarion was torn. On one hand, he was almost certain that he was willing to go through with it. Not just because he loved you and wanted you to be happy, though it was the main reason. But also because... he could be a part in making something good. A child that would never suffer the way he did, the way countless others had. One who would be loved, who would have the help they needed for their inevitable unholy hungers. Someone precious for the two of you to fret over, to adore and care for. He... wanted that. Or at least he would if you still did. Now if he could just figure out how to bring it up, maybe something could actually happen.

But luckily enough for him, you did the job for him. He had been pouring over another book dedicated to recording the births of Dhampirs in the area, only to be distracted by you loudly sighing behind him.

"What's wrong love?" Astarion asked, his eyes still scanning the page in front of him.

"Oh I don't know," You sighed, rounding the corner to sit on the edge of his desk, "I just can't help but wonder when you're going to explain why you've suddenly become obsessed with parenting books. And..."

You trailed off, ignoring his surprised expression to read the cover of what was in front of him, "'Vampiric and Mortal Love & The Spawn They Create'. It's not exactly your usual reading material."

Part of Astarion wanted to be surprised that you had already figured him out. He had at least been trying to hide things from you slightly, not that it mattered when you could read him like a book. And he supposed that blatantly reading things like this in front of you would eventually have an effect, even if he tried to obscure the titles.

But that didn't stop him from stuttering through a response, "Well-I, okay. I've just been thinking about options lately. Which you can't really do if you don't understand what they are. Hence the books."

You frowned at him, one leg crossed over the other, "Star, I already told you that you don't need to worry-"

"But I want to worry," Astarion interrupted, deciding that ripping the band-aid off would be the best course of action, "And if there is something I can be doing to make you happier than I should at least consider it."

"I'm not going to force you into this for that," You said softly, reaching out to twine his fingers against yours, "This isn't the kind of thing you do just for someone else."

Astarion was aware of that, there was an important truth to your words. But... "What if it wasn't just for you?"

You paused, your brow furrowed as you stared at him, "What do you mean?"

"I mean what if, and consider this purely hypothetical, what if I wanted one as well. What then?" It was as far from hypothetical as Astarion could get, but by the look on your face it didn't seemed like that needed to be clarified.

You swallowed, looking just shy of hopeful as you played with his hand, "I... well. I guess in that case we would have a lot to talk about."

That wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. He pressed on, "So if in theory, I did want one. Would... you still be interested in having one?"

With me?

He left that part unsaid as he waited for an answer, uncharacteristically nervous as you mulled it over. But you were smiling, bright and wide, giving his hand a little squeeze as you spoke, "I think that would be the only scenario where I would want it. If that's something you wanted."

"I think it is," Astarion answered honestly, done with being coy, "I don't know how, I... I'm not quite sure how I feel about you carrying something that could be dangerous. But... in general yes. I think I want this. I do want this. With you and only you. Whenever your ready."

The next part Astarion did see coming, his arms already open by the time you launched yourself at him. You straddled his lap, kissing every part of his face as you babbled, "We can wait! It doesn't need to be now but-I just-yes! Adoption, childbirth, I don't care. All I need is to have them with you. That's all I want."

"And that I can give," Astarion laughed, delighted at your reaction. He still had concerns, plenty of them in fact, but they were hard to consider when the woman he adored was so ecstatic.

He gripped your chin, chuckling at the whine you let out for him interrupting your onslaught of affection. You didn't have to wait long, not when he directed your mouth against his, kissing you deeply as a new wave of exciting, and slightly nauseating feelings worked through him.

He didn't know exactly what was going to happen in the future. He had no idea if he would be a good father, but he knew that he would try his damndest. He didn't know how the two of you would even procure a child, but he did no one thing.

With you by his side, it would work out. All of it, no matter how hard the road turned out to be. And that was all that mattered.

[peridots-pixiwolf]

[Start ID. A redraw of the official icons of the ten named slugcats from Rain World, arranged in two rows: Survivor, Monk, Hunter, Nightcat, and Gourmand in the first, Artificer, Rivulet, Spearmaster, Saint and Enot/Inv in the second. Each is drawn in roughly the same pose as in the original art and fitted with speculative interpretations of their biology, and the second image is a “dead” version of this. For example, all ten have slug-like rhinophores in place of ears, cuttlefish-like colorful eyes with strangely-shaped pupils, cephalopod-like beak "teeth", expressive barbels or oral tentacles at the corners of mouths, spiny radulas, and the frilly mantle fringes of sea slugs, though otherwise their faces are squishy, simple and mammalian-shaped.

Cream-colored Survivor and yellow Monk both share triangular, bicolored spots matching their eyes (which are tan and brown, and two shades of blue, respectively), small, bumpy fringes, and relatively neutral looks on their faces. Defensive-looking Hunter is mostly a dull orange-pink, though their blobby fringe is a more violent red and their back is purple and marred with lumps. Nightcat is navy blue and flecked with dots of yellow and teal, their rolled rhinophores are a lighter blue, and their shading fractures into stars in some places. Gourmand is almost uniformly tan, their wide, very ruffly white mantle fringe bordered by a spray of white spots, and their beak sticks out from either corner of their smile. Primarily red Artificer, snarling, has yellow markings of multiple sorts, a prominent yellow dewlap and their characteristic dark scar taking out a chunk of its face. Rivulet is a darker blue than usual, with long barbels, red gills and rings, countershading, and a cheerful expression, sticking out their radula. Spearmaster is purple with orange accents, eyes and spots, a large fringe and spines down their back. Saint’s green caryophyllidia are marked by small, yellow diamonds, and their long, thin radula extends far below them. Enot is decorated with mottled red stripes, blue patches, yellow stars, and an uneven and almost cartoonish imitation of blush, though generally the same deep blue as Nightcat, a passive or almost slightly smug look on their face and their rolled rhinophores out to either side.

In the second image, nine of the slugcats’ eyes are crossed out, indicating that these are death icons. They look fairly the same, with mostly expression differences. Survivor is caught in the beginning of a threat display, a karma flower sprouts from Monk’s side, Hunter is burdened with overgrowing, purple and blue rot, Nightcat’s rhinophores are pinned back, and Gourmand looks mildly disheartened. For the final row, Artificer bites its radula between small plumes of smoke, Rivulet drops their expression, Spearmaster looks very startled, Saint looks almost entirely the same besides half-open eyes and their markings greater in number, and Enot grins confusedly. End ID]

If you'll excuse the unusually lengthy ID: the arena meme introduced by @pansear-doodles at long last after a nearly year-long wip status (or, rather, finished a month ago today to honor my own first time playing it!)

Design notes and shout-outs under cut! :]

The following people are some of those who’ve inspired my designs most since I started this eight months ago (or just inspired me to get a little weirder with slugcat biology), among many others for sure, and I thank them for it–but this is simply to bring attention to artists I find cool, and in no way an obligation to interact or anything :]

> @saturncoyote , @carpsoup , @charseraph , @gallusgalluss , @bitsbug , @dopscratch , and @0hmanit (and a special mention to dddeerbo and hunterlonglegs, who’ve since deactivated)!

Survivor: Surprisingly the hardest to pin down the colors for, since nothing with its sibling's palette seemed to match up right (I did have to add in a little blue somewhere for Monk, the beginning of making it clear how much I’m simply going based off of vibes for the colors of scug innards). I consider them, Monk and Gourmand to be part of the same gene pool of slugcats, and even possibly the same colony even if the latter isn't really related, so took a bit of Gourmand's coloring and fit them in with their inspiration: Goniobranchus verrieri. They serve as a bit of an introduction to my ideas of scug traits (i find it really fun how many people have thought to add so many silly sluglike fixtures of biology completely independent of me, buuut here I’m mostly talking about species variation), and like in-game they’re pretty average! They, Monk and Hunter have a couple scars sourced from a piece of Joar's concept art that I'm failing to find, those across the bridge of the nose, under the eyes, and across the rhinophores, respectively, and my Survivor interpretation features many on the back of the neck, as a result of survived lizard bites.

Monk: Their coloring is primarily based off the fact that I associate them with blue fruits, honestly, a bit because I was compelled to establish a familiarity with Rivulet, and lastly inspired by the spots of Goniobranchus kuniei (and geminus, less important to me as one of my characters is a kuniei instead, but more fitting). Between the yellow + blue and the circular marking in the center of their face, they’re meant to bear a little resemblance to an iterator that shares similarities with the characterization I’ve given them, and similar coding of her sibling can be seen on Survivor’s markings around the eyes. As both a “default” slugcat and one whose campaign I haven’t played, though, I can’t say I have much more to point out about em.

Hunter: The whole rot thing made for a really fun time drawing them, and while the color change on their back is a result of this, it’s also an excuse to relate them to Babakina festiva, arguably my favorite sea slug (mostly for sentimental purposes). And to Spearmaster, a fellow messenger slugcat, and it serves as a gradient between Hunter’s pink and the “traditional” color of Rot seen in the DLLs. Aside from their affliction, they’d actually be the plainest in terms of design, as they don’t have any patterns or quirks of body type, just the red + purple and strange lumps + possible malnutrition. I can’t remember if NSH had created them in particular or just...caught + released or something, but it probably wouldn’t be strange for a lab-grown slugcat to be simple like that.

Gourmand: Like the two above, they’re rather plain in terms of coloring and adaptation, and like the two above, I find that fun. I decided it would be nice to avert the “all slugcats being of the same body type, and Gourmand’s out of place as the exception” thing by just...adding more fat to all of them, really. I did want to emphasize their sheer bulk even so, both fat and muscular (not like I couldn’t have still gone further with it, of course, but slugcat anatomy can be a little obfuscating sometimes, and they were intended to look rather plush considering personal size headcanons and therefore the lack of proper gravity), and the thick and flounced mantle looked like a good addition, as per their sea slug Glossodoris hikuerensis. Unlike Survivor and Monk, I didn’t attempt to hold their resemblance to any particular other character (which means a little less to balance out the “default gene pool” thing), so those are all the design notes I have for em.

Artificer: The second slugcat I’ve ever played, or finished the campaign of, my favorite for at least a long time, and the first thing I did was give them yellow accents, the shape of which have troubled me slightly (not quite like the spots or stripes of the others). They’re both a little more appealing and more explosive-looking to me, and considering how early on I played Arti, actually present in some of my older art. It does give them a little resemblance to Saint (completely intentional, two slugcats with strange relations to karma), as well as the fact that its radula is green for familiarity with one of its children (at some point it was going to have all-green markings, even!). I’m generous with their scars, partly because it was fun to overemphasize the one on their face and partly because it does seem like a reckless slugcat, on top of the dangers of its explosive abilities–I’ll probably just keep adding more forever. Mostly-red sea slugs aren’t too common, but Hexabranchus sanguineus works for sure. The ridged, yellow dewlap can expand for combustion purposes, or something along those lines. Arti’s where I began experimenting with a lot of the mildly-offkilter features seen in my interpretation of slugcats, as they’ve once again been a favorite from the start.

Rivulet: I've obviously given other slugcats spots, deeply enjoy the bubbly-soda markings of other peoples' slugcats, and thought seal riv would be cute. Despite not too closely resembling it, they've been government-assigned Hypselodoris bennetti, for color reasons and for a couple sentimental ones. Originally, the colors of every scug were meant to match up with the custom colors I gave them at the beginning of their campaigns, (though Arti, Gourm and Spearmy are the only three who actually apply here, since I've only played through half the slugcats: I gave arti the yellow as mentioned above, gourm brown eyes and spearmy light pink spears, furthered by the outskirts pearl accompanying me and that palette all the way to moon. Tolerance training for eternity in hell cause I already knew about the maroon pearl quest). I initially gave them the colors of the bi flag for fun... but with the limited palette of this image, I was left without pink for a while and decided to see how they'd look in red. I then realized how they now wonderfully matched Moon, and besides, red's a sort of camouflage in deep water! As a side-note, the difference between their eyes and those of others always bothered me a little for anatomical purposes, and the cephalopod eyes were probably influenced by this!

Spearmaster: Inspired as much as possible by @notyourfunnyman ’s wonderful spearmy: designed in a way that helps it fit in with scavengers, at least between the long sensory tentacles, big ruff, back spines and slightly thin/distended anatomy, a form of defensive mimicry. I always had annulate rhinophores in mind, for a little diversity sure, but mostly because the shape reminds me of radio antennae and communication towers (seems fitting for the comms array and being a messenger slugcat)! I started searching for a real-life slug to give them just by looking up their rhinophore shape...and was met immediately and coincidentally with annulate-topped nudibranchs that fit them more perfectly than I could've imagined: Flabellina and surrounding clades, I think Paraflabellina ischitana works very nicely. The orange was completely unplanned, but there wasn’t a place for light pink among the other slugcats’ palettes, and importantly it likens them to both Hunter and Seven Red Suns a little more.

Saint: I am very much a non-furred slugcat enjoyer, with respect to those who aren’t, so figuring out the only visibly furred slugcat was an interesting challenge. I’ve decided that they likely have other, milder adaptations for help in the cold, mainly just more efficient fat storage, and what looks vaguely like fur is instead a bunch of tubercles (called caryophillia, for the second reminder out of three). Their inspiration doesn’t have these, however, Miamira sinuata’s numerous yellow and blue spots (not to mention...whatever’s going on with that shape) and general effect of being the only really green nudibranch I could find were probably perfect for a strange green echo. Not pictured, but their beak-teeth are tiny and flat to make a surface for grinding soft food against with the lack of a functioning radula, which is tipped with a specialized spiny “grapple-hook” for better traction/grip (not to mention the numerous little teeth running down the whole thing).

(Best part of hiding this under a readmore means edits will be seen by all reblogs, I'm mostly sure, because I completely forgot to mention! The spots on their forehead are simple eyes. Their camera eyes appear closed in-game, I like to believe their complex eyesight is rather poor anyways or otherwise reason that they aren't seeing out of those, and while this was far from her REASON for attunement with the world, it does help compensate for mainly viewing it through a canvas of simple light and dark. This, and the fact that their swapped-out "fur" is not only to commit to a lack of hairs but contributes to sensory input!)

Nightcat/Enot: I guess you could say I found the “these two are technically the same person” compelling. (E.g. similar colors, both very strange and enigmatic, and Enot/Inv/Sofanthiel’s remark during the dating sim about getting removed from Arena Mode.) I doubt they’re the only two slugcats in their body, considering humans with DID tend to have more than a few (and I find it very funny that a slugcat bearing resemblance to Nightcat appears in Gourmand’s ending. They’re allowed in the colony and Enot isn’t </3), and I have to credit @faelingdraws ’s art for being what convinced me on it! Their design inspirations come down to trying to balance a few different ideas: making the patterns and palettes of both look oddly similar (special mention to the stars, since those are fun to draw), basing them off of Felimare sechurana and juliae respectively, using blocks of color with the same placement as in Enot’s official art, and specifically making Enot look...biologically reasonable and imperfect, whilst also clearly trying to imitate human displays of emotion (what with...the eyes and blush on that one piece of official art).

Lastly, here’s just a lineup with notes on body shape and size. Most of the nicknames (existing to give a little more space, that’s all) are obvious, and while I can’t remember why I shortened Nightcat to Nox, it is in honor of my friend by the same nickname :]

[pix-writes]

So, I'm going to answer these two requests in the same post, because I feel if I did them seperately I'd probably end up repeating myself. Hope that's okay! (NSFW will be at the end of the post under a banner, so 18+ below!)

I think both the stan twins have a complicated relationship to the idea of being parents, whilst they are fond of their memories together as kids, they otherwise had an awful upbringing, whilst stan got kicked out as a teen, I don't think Ford would have had the greatest time either in still being in contact with his family, in fact I have a lot of theories that he more or less cut off contact with them by a certain point in his early adult life when conducting his research in the Falls.

I think their expeirences with how their parents got together and how Filbrick treated his sons as either means to an end or dead weight in his life, meant that they were never keen to start a family early on in their lives and 'settle down', stan more out of circumstances/ wanting to travel the world, and Ford out of wanting to focus on his career/ acheiving greatly in the fields he wished to pursue. However, they were raised around the 60's and would have faced at least some societal pressures and influence (even from their parents) that at some point they had to find a girl to marry and have children with. Whilst neither of the twins really exhibit a desire to fit into the norms of society, I think they definitely considered and probably even fantasised about their future as a parent, regardless if they truly wanted that future or not.

Ford I think would have the narrative of "Of course, once I've done x and researched x, then hopefully I'll find a woman that actually wants to talk to me and then maybe we'll get married and settle down once I'm x age..." and then, satisfied with his internal answer to those societal pressures get's on with his studies. I'm sure Ford has thought about it a lot and ruminated anxiously over the fact that he can't seem to connect with anyone on a deeper level, I mean its practically part of what drives him to study the abnormal in the first place! He's fantasised about meeting someone, who like him is strange and unusual in some way and as driven to seek out intellectual, academic pursuits. He thinks maybe they could focus on their careers together and settle down once you both get to a certain age. You may be 'older' parents by his parent's/generation's standards, but he's never really cared for that and it makes sense for him to focus on his career first and foremost, anyway. He's not putting anything off, not at all!

They both love their family still and love the twins deeply with all of that said, though! Ford in seeing them realises all that he has missed from his time in the portal, even though he feels its silly after all this time to regret the past, it does make him wonder the 'what ifs?' - if he had been more in the twins' lives up to this point, or if things had gone differently, would he have even learnt the lessons he needed to; or would he have been as absorbed into his career as he had been and not had them in his life?

Ford loves being around the twins, they're the most loveable pair of kids AND they're his family <3 Once he's starting to get over all that has happened he starts to really enjoy their precocious natures - it gives him a glimpse of what may have been, however small, into what it would be like to have children. I think he does think it over and considers if it would've made him happy. After all, he isn't his father, maybe he would've been better at raising them than his father had been with them...

So for the sake of one of these requests, let's say that he does want to be a father! HCs for dad!Ford and pregnant S/O:

Ford is going to put his all into reasearching potentially EVERYTHING there is to know about pregnancy, concieving (if you're purposefully putting effort into having kids, that is) and child rearing as he can before you do get pregnant/concieve. It's what he does best and he'll even be trying to research what the best parenting methods are and calculate the possibilities of what can go wrong for the baby, you, etc etc. I mean you can't go into anything unless you're 100% certain you're willing & ready to undergo any of the potential outcomes, right?

He has the best intentions, but if you really don't want to know all the freaky/dangerous outcomes that could happen to you and the future baby/babies, then you might need to have a firm conversation with him. Might have to also remind him that you need to be a team in this, parenting is one of the things with endless amounts of advice and not all of them are going to work or be ones you want to make, part of being a parent is finding out/knowing your style and not overthinking it (or at least trying to).

Will certainly do his own 'check-ups' on you in addition to you going for your regular doctors/hospital ones. Enrolls you both in a class for new parents, but ends up criticising it and is convinced that you can learn everything you need to know at home anyway (finally he sees the value of the internet!)

The fact that he is a lighter sleeper is both a blessing and a curse, he won't mind waking up for the baby any time day or night but when you're in the last trimester and you're uncomfortable he's likely not getting much sleep either! Will be incredibly attentive in trying to solve it though, and that goes for the rest of your pregnancy too! He's there to put oil over stretch marks, set out your vitamins, help you get the most comfortable positions, fetch whatever food you're craving and so on.

Never got to be at the twins' birth and so is absoluely not going to miss the birth of his children for anything! He does fear about things going wrong, though, doesn't think so at first but does have a few nightmares about it. Is anxious about your pregnancy being high risk, since multiples clarly run in his family and being an older parent. Wonders if the baby will have any 'abnormalities' like his polydactly and whilst he will accept his child 1 million percent, he is already worrying over how they will be recieved by others.

In labour, he's definitely in tune with you, he's not one of those lazy, unconcerned husbands that you see annoying/ignoring their pregnant wives in hospital. Is incredibly good at rolling with the punches in an emergency situation. Absolutely sobs when he gets to hold them for the first time. Eventually manages to relieve hold of them when Stan comes over after the birth by convincing him that you need him for something so he can get to hold is nibling, haha.

Loves to smooth his hands over your belly, is excited to feel the baby move and talks to them <3 Definitely the dad who plays them classical music as well!

I think that his S/O being pregnant he just gains a different, deeper appreciation for you! The fact that you're bringing life into the world is incredible and he's there when its wonderful and when its difficult, he knows it's not all rainbows and sunshine and will often tell you that if he could find a way to alleivate your pains or carry the baby himself he would!

Is very protective of you when you're pregnant, more so than he normally is in public. Hates when people cross boundaries and make you uncomfortable, gets especially mad at strangers wanting to touch you and will not let that happen if he's with you.

Ford as a dad would be amazing, he's not perfect by any means, but whatever his children are curious about he has a ready answer! Is actually good at getting to the root of the loop of 'why' questions into what they really want to know/do. You can often see him with his kids, looking up at him like he hung the stars because he has an answer for almost anything they can think of.

Whilst he has to very carefully shut away his lab and make sure it's under tighter security for the kids when they're younger, he now gets to do all sorts of nerdy things with them. Even runs his own smaller, simpler version of D&D&MD for them, ends up becoming a family tradition to have a 'games night' because of this.

Schooling is something he takes very seriously, and he can be a firm parent when he needs to, though debates on whether they should be homeschooled or not and for how long - whatever you settle on, he's going to make sure his kids have all the help they need with homework and will encourage them to take any extra curricular activities/hobbies they may want to do. Your kid shows an interest in music? He'd be showing them all the different instruments that they could maybe play! They want to join a sport, he'll be at every game!

Ford will be there to celebrate their acheivements in life, whatever they may do, I think he'd be a very supportive dad after the events of the show especially. And he'll be incredibly protective of them of course, no one is going to hurt them and get away with it lightly!

Not to mention these kids will have the most fun-loving chaotic uncle in the world! Ready to regale them with tales of all the adventures he and their dad have gone on ("please make it more G-rated, Stanley"), and when they're older cover for them when they want to do more rebellious things - Stan is going to make sure they get back home safe!

Now for the NSFW:

I think like I said, Ford generally isn't much into the idea of having kids --> but that doesn't mean you can't have a breeding kink!

The element of this kink that is so appealing to him is the 'claiming', the need to mark you in some way. He finds it hot to think about you being filled with his cum.

In the back of his mind he has a little voice that says he should feel some sort of shame for the dark, possessive nature of his thoughts around this kink, for wanting you to be 'mine' (his). Its almost like a ritual to him, to combine his cum with yours, to fill you; you are his and he is yours. He's not really religious, but I think in an intimate relationship he feels like he wants to be as close to you as possible, your his to worship and his to protect and keep safe and to pleasure. If he could find a way to meld souls and minds with you he'd be tempted to do it (but on the other side of things, especially ford post-bill betrayal, I think he's too independent to really do that haha).

It's practically filthy the amount of times he's imagined you pressed into the 'mating press' position, legs hiked up onto his shoulders.

When he finishes, wants you to hold his cum in, presses it back in with his fingers or gets you to raise your hips, legs crossed.

Surely thinks about the possibility of you getting pregnant from it. It sometimes creeps into his mind when he sees you interacting with the twins or other kids/babies. It makes him feel feral. Likes to think about what it would be like to see you pregnant, even if he doesn't actually want kids.

[seokminfilm]

aftermath (act two) | lee seokmin

part: 2 of 3 (part 1 here) | warnings & playlist are mentioned in part 1

word count: 2.1k words (lord bless)

Seokmin was starting to think he was incredibly drunk on something or finally going insane, but he couldn't stop watching you as you slept on his couch, face pressed into his silky white pillow as drool fell from the side of your pretty, parted lips.

It wasn't like him to wake up early on the weekends, but here he was, sitting in silence with nothing but a pair of sweatpants on as he watched you fast asleep on his couch. He was worried about you overnight, even going as far as to wake up from his own sleep to quietly make his way downstairs and check on you, adjusting the thermostat or covering you up if you were to push your blankets off of you.

Seokmin was caring too much, and he knew it. He cringed at himself as he watched the sun start to peak out from the clouds, basking your sleeping face in a warm glow. Even though you looked like you had fought a ghost in your sleep, your hair was delicately spewed over the pillow, falling in waves down the side of your face.

As the sunlight hit your eyes just right, you squinted them open, taking in your surroundings before you sit up in a jolt, surprised. You had forgotten that you had accidently crashed at MLB's star pitcher Lee Seokmin's million-dollar apartment for the night.

Not mentioning that you didn't actually mean to do it, either.

You slowly scanned the room, too surprised and embarrassed to take in the beautiful view or sleek white that was the pristine living room you were sleeping in.

"Good morning." Seokmin said softly, and you nodded, averting your eyes to the warm, white blanket on top of you. ".....Oh, um—Good morning." You replied back, and Seokmin stood up moments later, cracking his neck without flinching as he made his way to the kitchen.

Your eyes traced over Seokmin's back as he walked, taking note of his broad shoulders, study, muscled arms, and sculpted waist. He really took time to work on himself, and you could see it more and more as you watched him.

"Are you uh—are you gonna stay for breakfast?" Seokmin asked awkwardly, pulling out a pan from a cabinet as he opened the fridge door.

This was so weird—you had (somehow) found your way into a popular celebrity's apartment, and not only was he not being rude to you or making you feel lower than him, but letting you spend the night, sleep on his couch, and offering to make you breakfast. Seokmin wasn't like the other self-centered celebrities you had heard about before—he was down-to-earth, real about what he said and did. It was admirable to you.

You were attracted to that, you wouldn't lie. Lee Seokmin wasn't just a good looking baseball player with raw pitching talent, but an admirable person with a strong and dominant, yet sweet disposition.

"If not, you're free to go. I don't mind." Seokmin had added, and you remembered what he asked you, clearing your throat as you nodded shyly. "No, no—I can....I can stay."

Seokmin let out a quiet sigh of relief, surprising himself in the process. Why? He had a faint idea as to why, but didn't want to say it to himself or even think it to himself. That was the furthest thing away from the truth. There's no way that could be the reason. Right?

After twenty minutes of stiff chatting from you and Seokmin, the food is ready, and you sit on the couch, trying not to gorge yourself on the delicious eggs and bacon lying in front of you. Seokmin watches you as you eat, biting back a smile as he senses you trying to hold back.

"You can eat however, okay? I'm not going to judge you." Seokmin let out a little chuckle, and you looked up at him, deflating a bit as you matched his laugh and you took a bite of egg.

Not only was Lee Seokmin sculpted by the gods, with his sharp features and strong body—but a great facial expression reader.

"I'm sorry if I came off as weird yesterday for asking you stay the night with me. I had no intentions of doing anything..." Seokmin trails off, face betraying him as his cheeks start to warm you. You stare at him, slowly but surely getting the memo as he continues. "Anything that you wouldn't want to do. I just, shit, I—"

"—don't want to be alone." You finish for him, remembering what he had said last night. Seokmin nods once, looking back down at his nearly finished plate. "Yeah...uh, yeah."

You shake your head, looking up from your plate as you meet his gaze. "No, it's okay. You didn't come off weird at all."

"You're a really bad liar." Seokmin jeers playfully, and you can't help but laugh, nodding as you tuck your hair behind your ear. "Ouch."

The table falls quiet again as the scraping of plates can be heard, and you finish your plate, fork down as you look at Seokmin. He's on his phone, frown evident as his eyes scan something. You've never seen him frown before, at least in the time you've known him (that being a singular night), but you could automatically tell you hated it.

"Hey, what's wrong?" You ask, and Seokmin looks up at you, eyes hard as he doesn't say anything for a while. The air around him is thick with a certain feeling you can't seem to describe, and it makes you feel small, insignificant to him. "Ah, I'm—I'm sorry. It's not my business."

"No, no." Seokmin says hurriedly, phone hitting the glass table as a heavy quietness filles the dining room. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it." Seokmin lies straight through his teeth to you, and you don't catch on, nodding as you finish your cup of water.

The thing that "wasn't your business" was a text from Seokmin's PR manager. He was due at a photoshoot almost thirt minutes ago, and she was livid that he wasn't ready to be dressed and filming the video ad.

Seokmin didn't want to go—there were a million other things he could be doing rather than sitting in a stiff chair for hours on end as staff spent their time doing nothing but retouching the smallest little smudges of his makeup and hair while Seokmin was stuck posing endlessly for a tiny, four-page spread.

He had never skipped out on something planned like this, but he was going to do it now. He deserved to feel good for once—free, unbound by any time-constricting schedules that he wasn't interested in.

"Are you doing anything important today?" Seokmin asks, standing up as he takes his plate from his seating spot. He walks over to you as well, cologne wafting over you as your plate is stacked on top of his. "No?" You answer, although it sounds like a question—what is going on? Why is Seokmin so invested in you? It wasn't a bad thing, necessarily, but you were beyond confused and surprised.

"Do you want to—uh, wanna stay over for the day? I mean—I don't have anything better to do, and I still don't want to be alone." Seokmin couldn't believe the words coming from his mouth, but he couldn't stop talking. You were making him nervous.

"Seokmin...." Boy, were you getting mixed signals from this guy. He had just met you yesterday, and here he was, asking you to stay the day and keep him company. It was a miracle you had come into his apartment, and now he wanted you to stay longer?

You didn't want to believe it, but your gullible, love-sick heart sat there thinking this was a sign that he was into you. There were so many things that screamed absolutely not, some being the fact you and him just met yesterday night, every conversation you have had with him was a mess of awkward sentences, and the simple fact he was a celebrity, for God's sakes.

"Sure. Why not?" You shrug, and Seokmin smiles, eyes lingering on your body for a bit longer than usual before he makes his way to the sink. You squirm in your seat, chest on fire as you watch him scrub away at the dishes. What was this feeling burning deep in your chest? Why were you feeling it now, while being with Seokmin?

"And that's how I got that knot on my head." Seokmin chuckles as you run your finger over the picture in the photobook. His eyes glance at you as he gages your reaction, and he feels his heart jump a little when your hand brushes against his.

One thing led to another, and here you were, sitting on Seokmin's bed as you looked through photo albums he had stashed away in his scarily neat closet. You would have never thought you've been able to say that you've sat in a celebrity's bed before and looked at their baby pictures, but here you were.

"It looks painful." You muse, noticing how Seokmin's eyes still squint like they do now, when he laughs. "I mean, you're crying," You laugh, and Seokmin just shakes his head, ghost of a smile on his lips as he answers with a simple, "It hurt back then, yeah."

You close the photobook, handing it back to him as he takes the rest of the stack you've already looked through and returned it back to its rightful place.

Seokmin shut the door to his walk-in closet, coming back to sit on the bed as you stared out the window, having a perfect view of the pristine pool down below. Seokmin's hands were sweaty, and his hands were clammy, but he couldn't stop the words that were bubbling through his chest and to his mouth.

"Would it be weird if I told you that I loved you?" And there it went. Seokmin had talked without thinking again, and threw you for a loop.

None of this was normal—you and Seokmin had created a bond over today, even if you started out as strangers just last night. He knew you now, and you knew him, as if you two had been long-lost friends who had just rekindled their old memories and started off again from where they had stopped before.

Seokmin had made himself more than just a popular, talented baseball player to you—he was just a normal person, having fears and struggles just as the rest of the human population did. He wasn't this untouchable, closed-off celebrity who just smiled and did everything perfect all the time. He was just like you—lost, confused, and alone, lacking in all the departments he thought he should have been ahead in.

"A little, yeah." You answered after a while of thinking, and Seokmin nodded, looking away as he let out a sigh. "Yeah, you're right. I'm—I'm sorry. I got caught up in the moment."

"Seokmin, I want to stay in this moment forever. With you." You muttered, and he turned back to you, eyes raking over you slowly as he took you all in. He looked at your sparkling eyes, warm cheeks, and small voice.

"As insane and ridiculous as this whole situation is, I think I love you, Seokmin." You whisper, and he moves towards you as you follow his lead, now just inches away from each other as he makes the first move. His hands are slow, slender fingers coming to move your hair from your face as he tucks it behind your ear.

Seokmin's too far into you to back out now, and he goes all the way, kissing you slow as you melt under him. All the tension between you two melts in the matter of a few seconds, and you cling to his shirt, sighing under him as his hands dance across your waist.

"I—fuck." Seokmin's words are beyond broken as he pulls away from you, and he doesn't even try to fix them, staring at you in your soft, breathless glory. You're still reeling from the kiss that just happened, mind somewhere else as your lips still tingle with the feeling.

"Are you still with me?" Seokmin questions softly, hand on your thigh as he looks at you with those eyes—those sharp, hungry ones you see when he's strategizing with his team or preparing to pitch.

"Yeah, I am," You breathe out, eyes meeting Seokmin's as you blush. You're in heaven, you think, because the feeling that you feel right now is something you'd never want to give up.

You'd never want to give Seokmin up.

But would he feel the same way about you?

feedback & reblogs are so so appreciated! let me know what you think lyrnation

[weskie]

hi first glove anon here. i feel like i started something LMAO i’m glad you all share my vision

anyway i have more thoughts. specifically about medfet wesker… wooooo!!

wesker who insists on “examinations” in the medical supply room, dons his blue vinyl gloves and pries your lips apart to look at your teeth and depresses your tongue with his fingers to watch your face take on a subtle expression of confusion. he moves onto your throat and makes palpitations there, across your chest (bonus for lingering touches on an ftm reader with top surgery scars!!) and down to your waist, pressing into your hip dips just a little too hard so that you wince and/or have some bruising later from where he was slightly rough about it.

and, if you’re being pliant enough, he might just have to look in some other areas, hmm? examine your thighs and calves for “injuries,” just taking the time to casually feel you up. never taking it as far as you’d like so that the rest of the team doesn’t get suspicious. URGHHH I COOKED HERE.

anon i can't believe you made me learn this about myself just now lmAOOO (/positive)

ALSO YOU HAD ME AT THE BIT ABOUT CHEST SCARS HALLELUJAH

no but i NEED to see a super detailed close up of his hands in exam gloves in the absolute worst way now. any color, but green in particular i feel would really accentuate the details of his hands very nicely, especially the bumps of his knuckles and maybe even a vein or two

[beastsovrevelation]

Right, then. The sick part of my brain is terrorizing me once more, and taking an idea from it is like taking a bone from an angry rottweiler.

Who wants a fucked up Michael Langdon x Reader oneshot?.. I really do not feel like making a yet another OC, and adding a yet enother epic to my endless list.

[nerdallwritey]

Wip Wednesday!

I was tagged by @khywren :)

I've been working on a new part to Beauty and the Bard slowly but surely. As always, they're idiots. Here's a sneak peak:

He sat, pulling you down with him, far enough away from the edge, where he knew you wouldn’t be nervous of falling. In the distance, the sky was just starting to indicate the sun’s arrival.  You sighed happily and rested your head on his shoulder. You felt him tense a little. “Is this alright?”  Instead of answering, he leaned his head on top of yours.  “What’s something you want to do in the Underdark?” you probed. Astarion groaned. “You don’t need to make small talk with me, darling, sometimes silence is golden.” You scrunched your nose, knowing he hated pure silence. “I wasn’t being polite, I genuinely wanted to know.” He groaned again. “Even worse.” You laughed lightly and felt him laugh too, his arm gently shaking against your own.  He thought for a moment before he responded. “That Zhentarim fellow we met mentioned a cache of supplies hidden somewhere down there. That might be fun to pillage.” You laughed. “It took you that long to think of that? I’m surprised you ever stopped thinking about that!” “Oh I haven’t, but I wanted you to think your little thought experiment had actually evoked some sort of… thought… in me.” He made a face. “Want to try and rephrase that?” “Not particularly.”

I don't really have anyone TO tag (sorry I haven't been as active recently! Life happens!), but if anyone wants to post their work, consider yourself TAGGED!

[ithinkinggenshin]

Yae Miko's Captive

pt.2 to Yae Miko's part in Messed Up Messy Love

Warnings: Torture, Possessive behavior, Non-con elements (no smut), Mentions of death

You don't recognize yourself in the mirror. You don't even acknowledge yourself. 

Emptiness. 

It became a mantra to you. 

Give her nothing. 

Don't feel. 

Don't react. 

Don't think.

When Yae caught onto what you were doing, she finally decided to let you out. 

Among the shrine maidens and guests, you realize your mistake. 

You took the bait. 

You were thinking again. 

And now, Yae Miko gets to punish you for it. 

She knows how to twist every word you say, every sliver of emotion. She'll send you spiraling downward only to catch you by the thinnest string. A true puppet in her hands. 

She knows how to make you feel, even when you don't want to. 

She’s driving you mad.

You're going insane. 

Unpredictable. That’s the only way to properly describe her.

The others only see the tiniest sliver of what she's capable of. You have the great honor of bearing witness to all of her madness. 

Her fingers dance along your body, nails digging bloody holes into you. Her voice and words drag you by the skull through a mental maze she constructed, just for you. 

Her little pet. 

And when she can't seem to get you to react how she wants, she has many more tools to help her. 

You will appreciate her hard work and attentiveness. She's taken so much time to learn about you. 

Don't you realize? 

All of this was for you. 

She understands you perfectly, now. 

Before she was easily able to predict your movements. Now, she knows what you'll think before it even happens. 

Emptiness. 

Empty your mind. 

If you–

"If you have no thoughts, then I can't predict them," Yae Miko stares at you. The corners of her lips twitch. She wants to show you her canines. In a smile? Or as a threat? Not that there's any difference. 

"What a sad reaction. You'd throw away all of what makes you human, just to spite me?" She fakes a pout. 

"Too bad it won't get you what you want," she swoops in close, "I will never let you go." She laughs and pats your cheek like she just gave you a lollipop. "So no need to bother with such boring behavior. Let's keep this interesting as long as possible, okay?" 

You hate that sing-song voice she uses when she talks about getting her way. 

There's no escape. 

You tried to die, and she wouldn't let you. 

You're killing yourself in a different way, and all she can do is laugh. 

You'll die by her hand, only when she allows it. 

You find the only sanctuary is in your sleep. The nightmares are nothing compared to real life. Yet even that reprieve is stripped from you as soon as you show the pattern of using it to escape. 

You wake up trapped inside your mind. Your body goes to Miko. You pound and shake and scream, yet it's all for naught. You feel sick. Your body doesn't respond. 

Miko and you do things you wish you never witnessed. You wish your body didn't seem so eager. You wish you could go back to sleep. But it's like you're the subject to a failed hanging. All you can do is dangle helplessly and watch as the world spins around you. Or maybe you're the one spinning. Does it matter? Your body isn't yours anymore. 

The next day, everything returns to normal. Miko expects you to be as shaken. She always knows what to expect. You're afraid to sleep. But being awake with her feels terrible too. 

How did this happen? This nightmare hellscape. That woman has too much power. To control a person like this, it's unimaginable. 

All those centuries. You wonder– despite not wanting to– if she's done this before. 

You can't imagine anyone being drawn to her. 

Except the goddess she calls her friend. 

Except her friends in higher places. The ones that fight to possess you at any chance she gives them. 

Except the humans coming to pray. 

But the archon has a madness of her own, so it's no surprise the two get along. 

But her friends have been trapped almost for centuries and are desperate, fighting like starving rats for just a lick of freedom.

And the humans. They're only there to relieve blessings and to worship. Miko would never give them the privilege of seeing this side of her.

No.

They don't count. 

They shouldn't count. 

Because none of them truly know her. 

Because none of them are you. 

Being empty means you’ll be possessed.

Being full means you’ll be her treat.

But no matter what you are, you are Miko’s. 

You belong to her. 

Mind, body, and soul. 

Whatever is left of it, anyway.

[snarlesofthesewers]

a taste of poison

snarles x reader part 1 - if there's enough demand maybe ill make a part 2 lol idk i hate writing so it would probably take just as long as this one

a while after landing on this strange planet, finding yourself in the dark and haunting forest known as Subcon a spirit known as snatcher steals your soul and forces you to do his bidding unfortunately for you while working to complete one of snatcher's tasks you end up far deeper in the forest then you should have been and end up in someone else's hunting grounds

after searching for nearly two hours you find yourself running into a small clearing leaves rustling and twigs snapping underfoot as you ran towards the rare flower snatcher had asked you to gather for a certain potion he needed to make what kind of potion? you had no idea but what you did know is that snatcher would probably kill you if you came back empty handed you should have been paying better attention to your surroundings while running you weren't exactly paying attention to anything other then the flower leading to you tripping over a fallen tree and planting your face directly in the cold and wet soil of the forest which definitely woke you up but when you realized just how much noise you had made on the way here you could feel nothing but dread something probably heard you no.. something definitely heard you you quickly wipe the mud from your face and come to your knees scanning the tree line and tuning in your hearing as you slowly get up but you see and hear... nothing nothing but the sound of wind howling between the cracks of broken trees the coast is clear and you are alone so you begin to stand and reproach the flower pulling it from the ground with the roots intact and stashing it somewhere safe for the journey back to snatcher's house but just as you pick it up the smell of something absolutely awful fills your nose its hard to stop yourself from puking and you probably would have if you weren't already so used to the constant smell of death that lays thick in Subcon's air... but this wasn't the usual smell of old decaying bodies this smelled far more ripe where the hell was that smell even coming from? "right behind you that's where~" a small crack and snap can be heard in the treetops above with the faint sound of hissing that transitioned into a shrill and wet sounding cackle that followed soon after you run but you didn't get far before you are promptly pinned to the ground by something far larger then yourself with its claws digging into your shoulders causing fresh blood to trickle down the side of your back and onto the cold wet ground and it was at this very moment that you realized YOU BLEW IT YOU TOTALLY SCREWED YOURSELF!~ you feel the smooth and slimy skin of whatever creature had you pressed against the ground began to coil itself around you like a snake ready to suffocate its prey your mind and body had already started to go numb but before you could pass out you were quickly snapped out of it by a voice... and maybe also the claws still stuck in your shoulders like knives but mostly just the voice

"finally.. fresh meat its been days with not a single soul... I was starting to worry that people had finally gotten smart and started to avoid this wrenched forest~"

"...now then.. how about we get started my lost little mouse~ it would be a real shame if I let fresh meat like you go to waste"

you struggle and struggle and struggle some more attempting to worm your way out of its firm grasp but its no use but if you were going to die you at least wanted to get a good look at whatever was about to kill you so you continued to struggle until you could get a good look at its face even if that meant completely exhausting yourself you catch a glimpse of its soulless yellow eyes flickering

"oh how cute the prey thinks it can escape~? you keep making this easier for me I almost feel bad... maybe the hunger is finally starting to get to me or maybe its just that scent.... wait hold on that scent" they lean in close to your face and just stare at you for what felt like an eternity before uncoiling you and towering above your sore body "is... this some kind of cruel joke?" they hissed in frustration before grabbing you by the leg and pulling you close to their face "no this cant be the case... did his previous contractor kick the bucket already? its only been a week there's no way he's dead already" they drool at the thought of eating the remains of snatchers previous victim even if there's no guarantee he was even dead...yet "well well well~ ...might you be snatcher's newest pet? oh ...don't worry about trying to speak.. I have other ways of finding out~" "my little mouse"

[sforzesco]

like, I'm old school web comic culture, I like handmade zines that are stapled, I just want to make comics and tell stories and the ranking system of the popular webcomic sites exhaust me to my core, which is why I like tumblr. I want to draw sulla wound fingering crassus and not think about the metrics.

[chihoshisai]

Night Crush

Nanami x Reader

cw : i can fix/help him reader, coffee shop au, nanami is tired, positive ending // wc : 1.5K

The chimes of the bell echoed throughout the coffee shop, signaling a customer had entered the property. Withdrawing from the task that had previously kept you occupied, you turned towards the counter, expecting to welcome the only person that would dare come at such dark hours for the bitter taste of caffeine.

“Hi,” you greeted with a sympathetic smile at the sight of the drained expression that adorned the features of Nanami who walked further in. “The usual ?” you asked, well aware that he would come here at least once a week to possibly decompress from work, as he enjoyed a book alongside his coffee.

“Evening,” he replied with a voice that hinted nothing of his emotions, “yes I’ll take an americano,” he added with a nod.

“Alright,” you said, as he fetched his card to pay before busying yourself with the making of his drink. 

At this unholy hour of the day, the shop usually remained empty — making for a laid-back shift whilst you kept yourself occupied with either cleaning or endless scrolling on your device. However the routine you had established for yourself got interrupted by the sporadic apparitions of Nanami which started about four months ago. Being the only guest, it was an easy task for your brain to remember him and his preferences, as you slowly started to notice simple details about him over time. 

The way his hair was perpetually neatly combed and parted, his aloof behavior and the way he seemed so engrossed in the books he read — ultimately sparking your own interest in literature, wondering if novels truly had the power to draw people in. 

Anticipation towards his appearances in your workplace had stirred up these unexpected butterflies and accelerated heart rates from your body. The more you watched the clock tick away the time, the more hopeful you grew that he would come, and more often than not you wound up disappointed and hurt — feeling lonely at the realization of how silent your surroundings were, but mostly by its emptiness which was emphasized by the soft yellow lights of the café.

It was a slight crush really, created by the intimacy of sharing time with another individual in a place that usually brimmed with people, buzzing with laughter and conversations. The veil casted by the arrival of night would make anyone fall prey to the serene atmosphere brought forth. And you were one of its victims. But it wasn’t the only reason why you had fallen for Nanami. Yes he was a handsome man, even behind his spectacles you could tell as much. One look at his body and it was apparent how well built he was, as you secretly wished for a peek at what probably consisted of finely refined muscles.         

The more glances you casted in his direction, the more you took notice of how tired — exhausted — he seemed. Seeing further than his attractive appearance, it left you wondering what sort of corporate environment he found himself in, even though he seemed adept at putting up a front. It was in the way he sometimes spoke, or how his shoulders would crouch for a second, even the occasional sigh that would escape his lips was enough for you to come to that conclusion. Going as far as causing your heart to clench, it gave you the desire to help, to do something, to ease his pain even if it was a meager gesture. 

You finished preparing his order and hurriedly went to deliver it to Nanami, who sat near the window with his legs crossed, his book by the side awaiting for his usual coffee to arrive before starting his reading. 

“Here's your americano,” you uttered with a shy glance towards him, hoping to catch a closer look at that sharp jaw of his. 

“Thank you,” he replied as he watched the cup being placed on the table beside his novel. 

These small mundane conversations were enough to elicit daydreams in your mind. You gave him a slight nod before returning to the counter, to begin appearing to look busy when all you truly were doing was poke a look or two towards him. Though as you had been doing so for months already, the thought of feeling unfulfilled surged up inside you — bothering you even. It wasn't enough. You wanted more. 

As such, the remaining pastries of the day gave you an idea — which left you pondering whether or not this would be a well received gesture or deemed unnecessary. With steady hands, promptly placing a piece of cake on a plate, you headed towards Nanami once more, each step increasing the rate of your heart and deepening your breathing as this wasn't part of your usual night shift routine.  

The sound of your heart echoed through your brain having reached the table, and your breath caught your throat at the sight of Nanami pausing to look in your direction. 

“What's this?” He asked, eyes lingering towards your hands, “I didn't order that,” his tone was slightly surprised which made you even more nervous.

“It's on the house. Since you come by every so often, I thought you could enjoy this with your coffee. I hope it’s not too much of a bother,” you blurted out in a single breath — deeply inhaling afterwards as your eyes traced the outlines of his facial features, praying for a positive answer.

“I see,” his flat tone ringed in your ear, “in that case I’ll gladly accept it.” And with swift movements, he momentarily closed his book and made place for the unexpected order atop the table. 

You beamed — truth be told, who in their right mind would refuse to accept food offered by what supposedly consisted of their favorite place ? as you placed the plate down, the thought of considering rejection almost made you feel foolish. But this wasn’t enough.

“May I ask you something?” You inquired, fiddling with your fingers while your eyes darted towards the ground. Without a doubt, you were testing your luck to see how long it’d last. 

“What is it?” His eyes hadn’t left your side for a second

At the sound of his voice, you raised your head, allowing yours to fill itself with worry, “are you alright?” 

Nanami sighed.

And your mind started racing — what if you had annoyed him ? Embarrassed for having crossed a line, you steeled yourself to apologize, but he further beat you up to it.     

“Sometimes I am required to work at night, and it is a real hassle,” he bluntly said, shoulders slouching as he let himself exhale once more.

That much you knew, but you still nodded in acknowledgement, “it must be hard.”

“It can’t be helped,” he shrugged, “plus if I don’t let myself come here from time to time, I’ll reach my limit. Few coffee shops are open at this hour so I am grateful for this place,” he finished with a smile.

A smile.

The upward curve of his lips sent a turmoil of emotions inside you — never had he showed such a reaction in all the time you had observed him. With glee, you internally praised yourself for coming forward tonight. And so, you pushed further.

“What do you like? I’ll bring it to you next time,” you exclaimed in a confident voice. 

“Bread,” he replied, looking at you through his sunglasses, “I like bread. And alcohol.”

“Oh I see,” you said with a nervous laugh, worried as your café wasn’t the type to sell bread even during the day — instead you swore to look up how to make it, master it in the hopes that it would be good enough. “By the way, what sort?” Your apprehensive smile remained on your lips.

“There’s a bakery not far from here that I like to go to. They have—” Nanami began without having the chance to continue.

“Would you mind showing it to me?” the words escaped before you had the time to process them. At the sight of the raised eyebrows in your direction, you decided to screw it and further push your dwindling luck. “The bakery I mean, would you mind if we go together?” As heat settled on your face, indicating your blush — you gripped your apron with more force than necessary, awaiting for what you convinced yourself would be a negative answer. Your mind was already one step ahead, grieving the end of what had been a short unrequited crush and how empty the café would remain for the upcoming time.

“I don’t mind,” Nanami’s monotonous tone replied, “give me your number so we can plan this out.” 

What?

As his hands moved to search for his cellphone, your mind took a moment to process the information before delight overthrew the previous misleading feelings — leaving you clumsily reaching for the phone in your pocket. Both having exchanged numbers, you gave a slight bow to Nanami, finally leaving him to enjoy himself and rushed to the staff room to giddily enjoy your victory.

[northern-passage]

one thing i find really difficult about navigating the IF space is the direct line of contact between readers and authors. we share the same space, and i think that plays a big part in this weird blurred line we have in this community and overall lack of boundaries.

for a lot of people this is a fun hobby and while i personally try to keep it... semi-professional most of the time, it's easy to get wrapped up in having fun on tumblr (or the forums, or reddit, wherever it is that you mainly post/interact) and have a lot of personal interactions with both readers and authors alike - which is fun! i like it more often than not, but i also think that's why a lot of comments in this space can end up being really entitled, over-familiar, and inappropriate.

it's no secret that most authors get really weird messages on here, and while this is also a problem on social media at large and not just specific to IF tumblr, it is still definitely a big problem in this community.

and to be clear i'm not saying that you can't be friendly with authors or readers (i've become friends with a handful of readers myself) and i definitely don't mean to imply that there needs to be a huge divide between us; that's silly - again, most authors are readers, most readers are authors, we’re just people on the internet sharing the same space. but all of us deserve to have our boundaries respected. this is my story, and we are strangers. as a general rule of thumb: if you wouldn't say it out loud to someone you just met, you probably shouldn't be saying it to a stranger online. especially anonymously.

[diyasgarden]

Got a request for a fic so good, I stayed up all night writing 8K words.

[jojosgaylittleadventure]

This is the fourth fic in my Josuyaus series that takes place while they're still in high school You can find my series here I also have a master post of all my Josuyasu writing here

Summary: After a study session gone wrong, Josuke finds himself needing somewhere he can feel safe and at home and that some where turns out to be Okuyasu. Tags: Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, the following tags are not from/between the ship (just an fyi), Non-Consensual Kissing, Non-Consensual Touching, Side Character/Main Character Attempted Sexual Assault, Attempted Sexual Assault, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Victim Blaming