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anto-pops · 2 months ago

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Playing With Fire - Sebastian Sallow x Female!Reader

Summary: “Maybe we should forget about waiting for the wedding. Maybe I should plant my seed early. Right here,” his rough, possessive fingers pressed down harder, making you quake violently. “That way everyone will know who you belong to.”

Alternatively summarized as you try getting Sebastian's undivided attention by making him jealous, but he doesn't take too kindly to your methods...

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, Auror!Sebastian Sallow, Unspeakable!MC, explicit sexual content, possessive behavior, breeding kink, rough sex, voyeurism

Ahem... whatever this is, it's up on Ao3

There was no mistaking the murderous glint in Sebastian’s eyes as he dragged you through the hallway towards his office. Some Ministry workers stared, their eyes wide with alarm as the Auror manhandled you along behind him. Others whispered, because it wasn’t everyday that an Unspeakable such as yourself found themselves being bullied so brazenly. Everyone could see clear as day that something was going on between the two of you.

But no one dared to move. No one wanted to risk piercing the suffocating silence that emanated from Sebastian. His pounding footsteps were louder than any verbal form of fury, anyway.

It didn’t surprise you that he was acting like this. What he had seen you and your colleague discussing was important; top secret, official Ministry business that you were sworn to keep secret. Any information pertaining to the Veil in the Death Chamber was strictly prohibited from being reiterated outside of the Department of Mysteries. So when your fiancé had walked into the main hall of your workplace and spotted you and a coworker hunched over a table together– shoulder to shoulder and murmuring in low voices– of course his first reaction had been to get territorial.

This was Sebastian Sallow, after all. He had never been the sharing sort, especially not when it came to you.

You and your colleague clamming up upon his arrival probably hadn’t helped you look any less guilty, but that was what you’d been counting on. Besides, what choice did you have? The topic of discussion was classified. Your fiancé of six months knew that you weren’t at liberty to discuss your work– not like he could as an Auror.

Still, that hadn’t stopped him from wordlessly yanking you away from your poor, terrified associate. Sebastian hadn’t made a noise the entire time he hauled you behind him through the Ministry towards the Auror offices.

The door plaque with his name on it glinted mockingly as the man shoved it open, pulling you inside quickly before shutting it with a resounding boom. Before you could so much as blink, Sebastian had you shoved against his desk, pulling a gasp from your throat and sending a litany of parchment and other trinkets clattering to the ground. He didn’t so much as glance at the mess.

No, he was too busy glaring at you as he peeled his coat from his shoulders. The attire was thrown harshly atop a small, cushiony chair in the corner of the room as if it had offended him somehow, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything about it. You were too busy analyzing the fire blazing in his dark, penetrating eyes. You had lit it, and you were now faced with taking the brunt of the heat.

“What the hell was that?” Sebastian’s voice was gruff when he finally spoke, leaning forward to pin your hips to the desk with his own. “Since when did Unspeakables work so closely together with one another?”

“Sebastian, it was nothing. We were just discussing our findings–”

His face ducked lower so it was directly beside your ear, his warm breath fanning across your skin as his fingers dug into the curve of your waist. “Does ‘discussing findings’ have to be done in another man’s lap, or did I miss that addendum in my letter of employment? You were practically inside of him.”

You inhaled sharply when Sebastian’s blunt nails raked up your sides, pulling your tucked shirt out of your skirt. “It was just work. You know I can’t talk about it with you–”

“Maybe you should,” he growled, pulling back to grip your chin and force you to look at him. “Maybe I need to know what warrants such familiarity amongst Unspeakables. Did you want me to catch you like that? Were you secretly hoping that I would walk in and find you cozying up to some random man that wasn’t me?”

“No! Of course not– you’re blowing this out of proportion!”

“Am I?” He leaned down again, brushing his lips against your jaw before his mouth curved up into a wicked smile. “I’m your fiancé. I’m the one you said yes to when I asked you to marry me. I’m the only man you should ever let get that close to you. Or do you not agree?”

“Of course I agree, but I can’t help what happens when I’m at work–”

Your excuses were silenced by Sebastian’s teeth suddenly clamping down on your earlobe, a startled hiss bursting from you before you could stop it. “Liar,” he whispered. “There’s this thing called professionalism. You could tell your colleague,” he spat the word venomously, his grip on your waist tightening, “that it’s inappropriate to discuss your findings so close together. You could remind the oaf that you’re engaged– that he doesn’t stand a chance with you, and that he should quit while he’s ahead.”

Sebastian shifted his hips back and gave himself space to begin undoing the buttons of your blouse, his hands moving startlingly fast over the clasps. You hardly had the time nor the ability to stop him– not with how turned on you found yourself becoming. Some might say the man you were in love with was overbearing and possessive, and they would be right… but those facets of Sebastian’s character were parts of him that you relished in.

Which was exactly why you had made sure to set the scene he had walked in on perfectly.

You’d known your fiancé was coming to pick you up for your lunch break since he had been so busy with work recently. He had promised you last night that he would make his recent absence up to you at the first opportunity, but a lunch date wasn’t exactly what you’d had in mind. You had been hoping for this exact scenario the moment the two of you made it home in the evening.

Sebastian forgoing waiting and dragging you to his office, though? That hadn’t been expected. He wasn’t even going to bother with waiting to stake his claim on you.

And despite your nosy, fellow employees lurking around outside the door, you liked that he wasn’t waiting. A lot.

You glanced down at your chest once Sebastian had yanked your blouse over your shoulders, discarding the attire over his shoulder roughly. He ripped your brassiere away next, instantly kneading one of your breasts in his large hand with dizzying possession. “Look at me,” he hissed, the authority in his voice compelling you to listen. Through your lashes, you could see the heady flush creeping across his cheeks as he stared down at you, his ruddy skin a byproduct of lust and rage. “Say it. Tell me who you belong to.”

You didn’t hesitate for a second before whispering, “You, Sebastian…”

Your voice trembled meekly, your eyes fixed on his as you tried to play innocent in the face of his wrath. But he saw right through your ruse– he always did.

“Tell me the truth, darling.” Sebastian demanded, his tone smokey and icy all at once. “You knew what you were doing back there, didn’t you?”

That devilish smirk reserved solely for you appeared on his face– the one that promised ruin and domination. He knew you had planned for this. He was well aware that you had been upset with him for prioritizing work for the last two weeks. You had told him as much time and time again, but there was little either one of you could do about it. The Ministry demanded much from its two prize workers; when duty called, you both answered at the drop of a hat. It was an unfortunate side-effect of being the Hero of Hogwarts and the youngest Auror to ever be assigned his own team.

Sebastian knew you as well as you knew him. He could read you like a book– was intimately familiar with the way your brain worked. Your shoddy attempt at appearing demure wouldn’t work on him.

His impatience was made palpable when he pinched the peak of your breast between his index finger and thumb, wringing a whine from your throat that you struggled to keep quiet. “Y-Yes,” you finally answered, your voice catching. “Yes, I knew what I was doing.”

“You like to play dangerous games, darling. Is this what you wanted? You wanted me pissed enough to ruin you here with all these people around?”

No. You had hoped for your bold actions to result in Sebastian stewing in jealousy for the entire day, then driving him to ignore his office at home to give you some attention. The plan had been for this exact situation to transpire in the comfort of your own house. Not here. Not while the two of you were at work. “Not… exactly…” you croaked.

He chuckled darkly, releasing your breast and your waist to free his cock from the confines of his trousers. The full length of him was already at play– the tip leaking violently and bulging veins conveying his excitement well enough. He reached up to shove at your shoulder, guiding you back against the desk quickly and mercilessly, “Yeah, I’m sure you thought you had it all figured out, huh? Too bad I can guess every move of yours before you make it.”

His cock glistened in the office light as he gathered the fabric of your skirt into a messy heap below your navel, holding it there as he slapped his length against your wet folds. “So don’t argue with me when I give you exactly what you wanted, darling.”

The blunt head pressed against your dripping entrance, the pressure driving your heart into your throat as you stared up at Sebastian with wide eyes. He flashed you another sinful smirk before shifting forward, driving the entirety of his length inside of you in one fluid motion.

You gasped– no, cried his name as he breached you. It was so sudden. So deep, so thick, so overwhelming, that your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you struggled to adjust to the abrupt intrusion. The sound of your voice would likely carry. The people milling about outside of Sebastian’s office could probably hear you, and maybe some of them were even listening in considering the spectacle they had witnessed leading up to this moment.

But you didn’t care. You couldn’t care. All you could focus on was the feeling of his cock stretching you open after two long weeks of forced celibacy, and you loved it.

Your walls fluttered and clamped down on him, wringing a groan from Sebatian’s throat that intermingled with your panted breathing. “So tight…” he groaned, hunching over you as he planted both of his hands on either side of your waist. “You like this, don’t you, love? Making me watch you fawn over some other bloke just so you could end up under me, stuffed full of my cock?”

Your eyes were half-lidded when you met his unwavering stare, your lips parted around shaky exhales and soft mewls. Then you nodded, no longer interested in trying to uphold your innocent facade. “Yes…”

Sebastian’s eyes flashed, and then he was straightening his spine so he could lend his full strength to his movements. The first jerk of his hips had his cock punching into you so roughly that you cried out again, and you felt his nails bite into your skin in response to the sound. “No one could ever have you like this,” he grunted in-between thrusts, raking his fingers down your sides and leaving angry, red welts in their wake. “No one could ever fuck you the way I do. Isn’t that right? Tell me.”

“Yes,” you gasped, your back arching off the desk when you felt him plant his thumb against your clit, circling the nub rapidly as he pounded into you. “Only you– there’s only you, Sebastian.”

“Damn right there’s only me,” he echoed wickedly, his lust-dark eyes narrowing at you as he watched you writhe around atop the wood. Pleased with your confession, he angled his hips just so, aiming for the area inside of you that he never failed to find with stunning proficiency. It didn’t take long– barely half a second– and then your body began to tremble in response to his assault on that magic spot. The head of his cock kissed against it over and over, and coupled with his unrelenting attention on your bundle of nerves, you felt tension take root deep in your gut. “You’re mine, darling. There’s a band on your finger that proves it.”

Your moans turned high-pitched, and your fingers dug into the wood of the desk as you desperately tried to ground yourself. “S-Sebastian– fuck– I can’t–”

The lone hand on your waist shifted so it was splayed across your lower stomach. Sebastian grinned maniacally as he applied a careful amount of pressure there, forcing you to feel every inch of his cock as he hammered into your cunt with feral intention. It knocked the air clean from your lungs– your breathless gasps of his name suddenly quiet enough that you knew he was the only one who could hear them.

“Maybe we should forget about waiting for the wedding. Maybe I should plant my seed early. Right here,” his rough, possessive fingers pressed down harder, making you quake violently. “That way everyone will know who you belong to.”

Fuck– it was too much. His dirty, shameless talking, the brutal thrusts against the deepest parts of you, his thumb moving ceaselessly over your clit. It was overwhelming– all of it threatening to send you careening over the edge even though you didn’t want a second of the euphoria to end.

Sebastian’s nails dug into your skin– right above where he knew your womb was– branding you with crescent shaped imprints that made your stomach lurch with arousal. You weren’t walking out of here without marks, that was for certain. Markings from the man you were set to marry would litter your flesh for days to come, and that thought made the tension in your gut amplify tenfold.

“S-Sebastian,” you whimpered, lifting a shaky hand to grasp the one he had splayed against your stomach. “I– I love you, I’m sorry– I love you–”

He groaned when your walls fluttered around his cock. It was as though your body was trying to swallow him deeper– sucking him in further as you neared your blissful precipice. “You can’t do that anymore, darling,” he leaned down, capturing your lips with his briefly before biting down on your bottom lip. “No more taunting me like that. No more.”

You nodded helplessly beneath him as he rammed his hips into you for emphasis, tears of pent-up pleasure quickly welling in your eyes. “I won’t. I promise, I won’t– please, I’m so close–”

Sebastian’s thumb pressed harder against your clit, circling the nub too fast and too firmly for you to think straight. Your legs kicked out on either side of him at the overstimulation, your voice falling off into a sharp, strung out sob as you continued to plead brainlessly.

“Please, Gods, please–”

His lips were directly against your ear when he growled, “Go on, love. Come for me. I want you drooling and crying– too full of me to even fucking walk.”

Sebastian never relented as you crept closer to the brink. His thrusts turned brutish, faster, and more unforgiving as he furiously worked his thumb over your bundle of nerves. The animalistic grunts he let loose were laced with a tangible hunger that finally caused the knot in your stomach to snap.

And it snapped hard.

All at once, your body seized. Your back arched off the desk and pressed against his chest, a ragged moan ripping from your throat and echoing throughout the room so loudly that it left little room for interpretation to any listeners outside. Your walls clamped down on his cock like a vice– your cunt milking his length as though it never wanted to let him go. Your fluids soaked his trousers as your thighs trembled, wave after wave of pleasure washing over you and leaving you a boneless, twitching mass atop the desk. It was utter rapture.

But Sebastian didn’t stop.

“So fucking perfect,” he growled, his breath hot against your cheek before he stood straight again. “But I’m not done yet.”

His ferocious pace never wavered as he resumed his earlier upright position; one hand on your stomach and the other maddeningly focused on your clit. Sebastian kept pounding into you, letting you ride out your climax while forcing your body into another, knocking the wind from you with such fervor that it bordered on cruel. Your hips twitched in a feeble attempt to escape the overstimulation, but the hand on your lower midriff kept you firmly in place.

“S-Sebastian, wait,” you whined, squeezing your eyes shut against the persisting pleasure he bestowed upon you. “I-It’s too much–”

“You’ll be fine. You wanted this, remember?” He slammed into you again, laughing breathily when you dug your nails into the top of his hand. “I’m just giving you what you indirectly asked for, darling.”

Merlin– you had bitten off way more than you could chew.

You sobbed, the sound laced with both pain and pleasure as your body went limp beneath him. Overly sensitive. Helpless. He was going to make you regret goading him into such a frenzy.

The sordid sound of Sebastian’s hips slapping against your wet cunt was sloppy. His finger moved in every direction over your clit, the slickness covering every inch of your lower half making the pad of his thumb slide all too easily around the nub. Every time he made direct contact with it, you jolted. Senseless noises fell from your lips as you were brought to orgasm once again, more evidence of your arousal gushing around Sebastian’s cock and staining his clothes, but he hardly paid it any mind.

Evidently he had more pressing matters to focus on.

His head tipped forward, a guttural moan tearing from his throat and reverberating through you as he endured your walls tightening around him. It was like nothing could throw him off, his tempo withstanding the feeling of your body sucking him in greedily, the force of his thrusts causing your shoulder blades to scrape against the wood of the desk. Mussed strands of his hair fell into his eyes when he looked back at you, his pupils blown wide, and his lips parted around a telling gasp of your name.

After what seemed like an eternity of brutal overstimulation, Sebastian slammed home deep before finally stilling. He buried himself in your cunt all the way to the hilt as he panted hard, pressing down against your stomach with enough force that you groaned– and you were certain he could feel himself emptying his load inside of you. At least, you certainly could. The hot spurts of his seed scorched you all the way to your core before it started to seep out and drip onto the floor. The sound of it escaping your ravaged center prompted Sebastian to grind against you– trapping his oozing spend in your body with his own.

How the hell were you supposed to go back to work after this?

The feeling of his fingers ghosting over your cheekbone pulled your heavy eyelids apart, and you were met with your fiancé drinking in the sight of your fucked-out expression with sinful male satisfaction etched across his face. His gaze flicked down towards your left hand, and he gingerly lifted it towards his lips to kiss the diamond studded gold band around your ring finger. All you could bring yourself to do was hum questioningly, your mind still too frazzled to form a proper sentence.

“I think we need to recall the wedding invitations we sent out…”

That snapped you out of your post-coital stupor quicker than a lightning strike. What did he mean, recall?

Surely he wasn’t implying he wanted to cancel it.

Had you fucked up worse than you’d imagined by taunting him? Was he calling off the wedding? Had your selfish urge to get his attention ruined your future with him before it had even started? Your eyes went wider than saucers, and your voice was tight when you croaked, “What? Why?”

Sebastian’s grin was equal parts reassuring and terrifying. He ground his still-solid cock into you again to wring a strangled gasp from you, the squelching sound making you flush from the top of your head all the way to the tips of your toes. “Because I don’t think I want to wait until spring anymore. The sooner I can make you mine, the sooner I can spend all of my spare time trying to fuck a baby into you. That is, if I haven’t already… that would really keep other men away, wouldn’t it?”

You glanced down to where his pulsing length was still sheathed in your cunt– its unwavering hardness a testament to how Sebastian was nowhere near finished with you. He pulled back before ramming his hips against you again, forcing a startled, pleasure-induced yelp from your throat. When you looked back up at him, you found that the fire in his eyes from earlier was burning brighter than ever, inextinguishable in its intensity.

Oh, gods. You’d really done it now.

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow smut #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy smut #sebastian sallow fanfic #hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow fanfiction #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #sebastian sallow oneshot #hogwarts legacy oneshot #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian sallow x you #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x female!reader #tw breeding kink #BK!S #my writing #I blame the innocent ask I got in the morning inquiring as to why the fandom hc's Sebastian as having a breeding kink for this #I literally couldn't stop myself #I don't know what's happening lately #I get an idea and I drop everything and I push it out onto the page before it collects dust on my WIP list #basically there was no reason for this beyond I felt like it #Sebastian and MC are my dolls and I force their heads together and make them kiss and I get a boost of endorphins #anyway that's it that's the post I'm going to bed it's 1 am #will look at this shitshow of a post in the morning with my coffee before FORCING MYSELF to work on TSP #THAT'S IT #NO MORE ONESHOTS YOU'RE B A N N E D ANTOINETTE

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halohalona · 11 months ago

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Beanie

in which you crochet a cat beanie to match Logan's hair

Logan Howlett x reader

i decided to turn this into an imagine instead of a fic cause there's nothing much to it, and the idea is pretty much straight to the point. i wanted to add a picture of the beanie but i'm still making it and i could not wait to post this.

not beta read, this is the first thing I've written in a long while, so bear with me

warnings: none, just fluff cause we need more fluff with this man

"What's that?"

"Oh, it's something I've been working on." You say as you finish the last of the stitches that join the two edges of the crochet rectangle you made. "It’s a cat beanie."

"Hate to break it to you, bub, but It doesn't look much like a cat."

"Just wait." You put the beanie on your head the top corners standing up on the sides of your head. "See? It looks like cat ears! It reminds me so much of your hair, I thought to make one so we could match."

A small smile formed on Logan's lips, finding the sentiment endearing. "Cute."

#logan howlett x reader #hugh jackman #i swear the words were on the tip of my tongue i just can't rmeember them #I'm writing this before going to bed so i apologize for any wrong use of words #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool & wolverine #logan x reader #wolverine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #mari cliffgate's writing

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trensu · 10 months ago

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Guess who's baaaaack! It's me, I'm back to writing. My laptop when kaput back in May and I've only recently gotten a replacement. In celebration of this, here's more of stasis in darkness. Enjoy :)

“Hello. I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” the god said.

“Years? But, why would you want–? I’m–I’m no one, Lord.”

“Don’t say that.”

The god’s voice hadn’t gotten louder, yet his words carried a force that made the room tremble. The air became heavy with it. Wayne’s breathing grew haggard under the pressure of the words. Steve tossed out any idea of false privacy and crossed the room in a few steps to kneel at the other side of the bed. He took Wayne’s free hand to anchor him. Wayne didn’t so much as twitch in his direction but his knuckles went white as he gripped Steve’s hand.

“You gave me your spoils and your stories every night. I felt your love in every word you spoke to me. You’re the reason I’ve been able to exist this long. Wayne Munson, you are the most important person in the world to me."

Wayne let out a wordless cry. The hand in Steve's shook. Steve viscerally remembered how it felt to have the god’s attention like that for the first time. He also remembered how guilty the god sounded after he realized the effect he had on mortals. With a slight grimace, Steve discreetly nabbed the Lord of Night's attention.

"I think that was a little too much," Steve suggested cautiously in a low tone barely audible over Wayne's sobs. "Maybe dial it back a little?"

The Lord of Night nodded abashedly. When he spoke again, the pressure in his speech noticeably lessened though the love in his words remained.

“So, you see, I needed to meet you in person. To thank you.”

The last part made Wayne weep louder. The grip he had on Steve’s hand increased in strength, and Steve was sort of relieved Wayne was an old man because even this frail, his hands were pretty damn strong. If he’d been any younger, Steve would’ve had bruises for sure. The god waited patiently as Wayne collected himself.

“My Lord, y-you–” Wayne gasped as his crying subsided. “I don’t deserve–”

“Wayne, you crazy old man, are you going to argue with your god?” the Lord of Night said in the same teasing tone he used with Steve all those nights in his pilgrimage. Wayne’s eyes widened.

“N-No! I’d never–!”

The god laughed, playful and bright as a star. Wayne halted his protests to stare in awe again.

“You know, I usually encourage a bit of dissent but this time, I’m putting my foot down. You do deserve this, okay?”

Wayne nodded dazedly. He still watched the god with soft, warm eyes. His hand twitched in Steve’s as if he wanted to reach up to touch the god. Steve loosened his grip to allow it but Wayne didn’t follow through with the motion.

“...you remind me of someone,” Wayne whispered. The Lord of Night tilted his head curiously.

“Do I?” he asked. At Wayne’s nod, he added, “I hope it’s someone good. I know what people say about me these days, and let me tell you, it’s not super flattering. King of Darkness this and monster herder that, blah, blah, mean and scary, blah.”

“I know better than to pay any mind to hearsay,” Wayne replied. "I’ve found that most people are fools, my Lord."

The Lord of Night laughed again. Wayne looked delighted.

The rest of the night continued along the same line. The Lord of Night listened eagerly to Wayne’s every word as he reminisced about past heists and recalled fond childhood memories. Steve kept to himself, for the most part, letting the Lord of Night and his last believer bask in each other’s presence. Wayne stayed awake as long as he could but finally fell asleep as dawn approached. The Lord of Night began to fade as the first rays of the morning peeked through the bedroom window.

“Watch over him for me, please?” the Lord of Night asked Steve. “I’ll be back tonight.”

“Of course, Lord,” Steve replied.

The sun broke past the horizon and the Lord of Night vanished. Steve took the stone from the bedside table. He wrapped it up carefully in cloth before returning it to his satchel. That level of care probably wasn’t necessary considering it was solid stone but it was the only thing they knew would keep the god tethered to this plane so far from his last shrine. Steve was charged with carrying his god's tether and he would not let him down by being careless with it.

It was also the only thing he had been given that belonged to his god. Typically, a holy warrior would be granted a symbol of their faith by a temple priest once a god had accepted the holy warrior’s offered service. Most of the time it would be a simple pendant or bracelet with a god’s sigil; a mass produced thing any follower could obtain, the only difference being that a holy warrior’s token would carry a particular blessing from the high priest. A holy warrior would carry that as a sign of their commitment until they’ve earned a more prestigious item to replace it during their years of service.

Steve’s journey so far has been as atypical as it could get. Most warriors traveled to their god's grandest temple. They recited that god's specific prayer for a holy warrior's offering, witnessed by a high priest who would then reveal whether the offering was accepted. Steve's god had no official prayers of any sort, much less temples or clergy. Steve's god couldn't really remember his own symbol aside from a vague outline of it; not nearly enough for it to be inscribed on even the simplest of tokens.

Regardless, Steve wouldn't trade his experience for anything. Most holy warriors toiled for years, even decades, before getting a chance to meet their god. Steve met his god nearly at the beginning though he hadn't known it at the time. He'd been able to see him and speak to him. Steve’s humble offering of servitude had been accepted directly by his god rather than by priestly proxy. So what if his god wasn't able to grant him a token for his pledge? His presence was a privilege Steve would take over any boon.

It was a sentiment Steve knew Wayne understood. Steve scooted his chair closer to the bed where the old man lay sleeping. He wrapped a hand around Wayne's wrist to track his weak pulse, and settled in for his vigil.

–

Steve woke Wayne a handful of times to make sure he drank some water or ate some of the vegetable soup Steve had thrown together using whatever he’d picked from the garden the day before. They chatted for a while; Wayne telling Steve about his life before age and sickness caught up to him. Eventually, Steve was able to coax him back to sleep when it became obvious his energy was fading.

At some point in the day, Wayne’s temperature began to rise. Nothing worrisome yet, but dread trickled into Steve’s veins regardless. The old man had been fighting whatever ailed him for a while now. If a fever overcame him, Steve doubted Wayne would survive it.

When the Lord of Night appeared alongside the fading sunset, he seemed as worried as Steve. Wayne sat in bed, propped up by pillows Steve had strategically placed. His eyes were rheumy but steady.

“You’ve seen the Door already, haven’t you?” the Lord of Night asked Wayne dejectedly.

Wayne’s gaze strayed from the god. He glanced at the corner opposite of the bedroom door. His hands shook as he tried to point that direction. Steve didn't see any door there. The god took Wayne's hand between his own, tangible to his last believer even as he appeared more translucent than the night before.

“It showed up earlier today,” Wayne whispered. The god nodded.

“You don’t have to answer yet, but soon. Once you go through the Door, you’ll be in Death's domain. No god is allowed to enter there besides him. I would have lost my chance to meet you if we’d been delayed any longer.”

“Good thing you have Ser Steve. He got you here real quick from what he told me,” Wayne said with a crooked smile.

“Has he been talking himself up?” the god asked amusedly. “Trying to impress the boss?”

“It’s my first quest,” Steve butted in with mild exasperation borne of embarrassment. He hadn’t expected Wayne to mention him at all during his communion with the Lord of Night. “I have to make a good impression.”

“To make up for the first impression, huh?” the Lord of Night teased.

Oh no, Steve thought when he caught Wayne’s curious look. He wanted to hide his face in his hands. That would be childish. Steve was a man so he was above that, unfortunately.

“Wayne,” the Lord of Night said with palpable mischief. “In exchange for all the stories you’ve given me these many years, what if I told you how I got my very first holy warrior?”

“I didn’t know better,” Steve groaned weakly in an effort to stop the story before it began in earnest. The Lord of Night made a shushing motion in his direction.

“It would be a privilege, Lord,” Wayne said with matching mischief.

“Settle in, my loyal follower, and listen closely,” the Lord of Night began with exuberance. “I call this tale The Trial of Nine Nights.”

The rest of the night, the god recounted Steve’s pilgrimage. The way he told it painted Steve as some sort of gallant hero. It was suspenseful and whimsical. It didn’t sound like Steve’s experience at all. Yet every word was true, told with a flair that Steve himself would never have imagined. Wayne had hung on his god’s every word, despite the sporadic interruptions caused by coughing fits.

“The way you tell stories…” Wayne said faintly between coughs as the story wound to an end. “You…really do remind me of…someone. My little starmaker*. He was…” His voice trailed off weakly as he tried to catch his breath again.

“Rest now. Tell me about him tonight, Wayne,” the Lord of Night commanded as he disappeared with the arrival of dawn.

Wayne’s temperature seemed to climb with the sun. Steve did what he could to help. He stripped the bed of blankets and draped cold, damp towels over Wayne’s brow. More than once Wayne had asked Steve to answer the door.

“Someone’s knocking,” Wayne insisted.

“I’ve checked already,” Steve lied. He hadn’t heard a single knock all day, much less one coming from the very door-less spot Wayne kept indicating. “No one’s there.”

Wayne drifted in and out of a restless slumber. Despite Steve’s efforts, the fever had not lowered by nightfall. The Lord of Night paced at the foot of Wayne’s bed with a caged restlessness. Wayne had yet to wake up.

“I don’t think he’s going to make it. Can you do anything for him?” Steve asked, hesitantly. “You came here to help him, didn’t you?”

“No,” the Lord of Night said shortly. “I can’t. I’m not a god of medicine. I’m not a healer.”

Each word was said with increasingly helpless frustration.

“I’m not strong enough to calm his dreams. I can’t ease his pain,” the Lord of Night said angrily. “At this rate, I won’t even be able to apologize to him.”

“Apologize for what?” Steve asked incredulously. Steve’s question went unheard. The Lord of Night tugged at his hood as if trying to hide his not-face. He gave up his pacing and slumped defeatedly on the chair beside Wayne’s bed.

“His family has sustained me for so long. He’s so devoted to me, and I keep failing him,” the god said, voice thick with shame. The brooding silence that followed was unlike the Lord of Night’s usual demeanor.

Steve wanted to protest the god’s claim. He was tempted to ask why the god believed he’d failed his last follower. Steve had seen people who’ve scorned and rejected their gods for a multitude of reasons. Wayne had not behaved like any of those people. Wayne had been so happy to see the god, Steve couldn’t imagine Wayne wanting an apology of any sort.

Before Steve could steel himself to ask, Wayne finally stirred awake.The Lord of Night straightened and drew the chair closer to his last follower. Steve situated himself near the corner Wayne had claimed to see a door. There wasn’t anything Steve could realistically achieve by placing himself between Wayne and the unseen door. When Death’s Door knocked, there was nothing a mortal being could do to keep it from opening. Regardless, Steve hoped he could provide some semblance of comfort by standing guard.

Wayne’s eyes were glassy. He lay limp and disoriented, making not a sound outside his labored breathing. Neither the Lord of Night nor Steve spoke. Steve didn’t want to startle the man nor bring his attention to the unseen door. After a few minutes, Wayne finally noticed his bedside companion.

“You,” he croaked in a daze. “I know you.”

“Yeah, it’s me.” The somber tone went unnoticed by Wayne whose entire face brightened with an unexpected joy.

“Eddie,” Wayne said shakily.

“What?”

“Eddie, you’re here,” Wayne said with more love and joy than Steve had ever heard from another person. He felt a momentary flash of envy that someone could hold another so dear, before it hit him that Wayne was speaking to the Lord of Night. The god seemed as dumbstruck as Steve over it.

“Is…is that me?” the Lord of Night asked. The god sounded so young and lost. It reminded Steve of Dustin and his friends when they were small. It inspired all the same protective instincts.

“‘course it’s you, Eddie,” Wayne said fondly.

“Eddie,” the Lord of Night whispered. “Oh, it is. It is me. I’m here.”

The words rang through the air. The finality in them nearly deafened Steve. The words were a realization that shifted the entire cosmos. The air he breathed, the light he saw, the very world he perceived had changed fundamentally. It was a change so loud and obvious, Steve was certain every human left on earth and everyone beyond the Door knew it happened. Yet between one blink and the next, the world remained the same as it ever was. Everything that had been still was and would continue to be for as long as the stars burn.

Inexplicably, Steve experienced a bout of vertigo at the shift that had and hadn’t happened. He fought back a wave of nausea that accompanied it.

“Eddie,” Wayne rasped over the rattling of his weak lungs. No longer translucent, the god appeared solid and real in a way he hadn’t even at the shrine where Steve first encountered him. Wayne’s wrinkled hand reached out to gently cup the Lord of Night’s cheek.

"Hey, Uncle Wayne," the Lord of Night said with a new voice.

"My starmaker, I missed you. So much. But how're you here? You were gone, you di–"

"We didn't want you to be alone," Eddie, Lord of Night, responded thickly, leaning into the hand and covering it with his own. "We wanted to thank you for taking care of us all these years."

"Don’t,” Wayne wheezed, teary. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Eddie. You deserved so much more than your pa or me ever gave you."

"No! No, Uncle Wayne, don't apologize," he said earnestly. "You were perfect. You gave us a home when pa died. We were so little and you protected us. You loved us. That's all we ever wanted."

“Oh, Eddie,” Wayne said in a heartbroken rasp. “That damn door’s been knocking all day. Who'll take care of you when I'm gone, Eddie?"

"Don't you worry about that, Uncle Wayne. Steve's gonna look after me.”

“Are you sure?”

The Lord of Night took off his hood and turned back to look at Steve for the first time since he sat himself at Wayne’s side. All the air left Steve’s lungs in one fell swoop. His god had a face.

His god was beautiful.

The Lord of Night’s skin remained pale, providing a stark contrast to his large, dark brown eyes glittered with bittersweet joy and sorrow. His lips, full and a soft shade of pink, were pulled into a wide, mischievous grin that dimpled his cheeks. His dark eyebrows were almost hidden under wild curls. His hair draped over the slope of his shoulders and matched his eyes wonderfully.

Steve willed himself to stay steadfast and strong under the god’s gaze. The Lord of Night’s grin twisted a bit as if he wasn't entirely pleased by what he saw. The nausea from before came back because Steve knew what people looked like when he'd disappointed them. As usual, he had no idea what he'd done wrong.

“Yeah, I’m sure. He already promised,” Eddie, the Lord of Night, said. He turned back to Wayne and gently wiped the sweat off the old man's brow.

“Good,” Wayne said with a. “You need someone takin’ care of you, the way you get in trouble all the time.”

“We weren’t that bad,” Eddie said with a watery smile. After a pause, Eddie continued reluctantly. “Uncle Wayne, if you need to answer the Door, you can. I won’t be alone.”

“Yeah,” Wayne murmured. “I’m tired, Eddie.”

“You won’t be for long, I promise, just answer the Door.”

Wayne’s breathing slowed. His eyes drooped closed. Eddie clung to his hand until it went lax. A choked sound escaped him when Wayne’s breathing stopped. Steve instinctively stepped forward to comfort him but Eddie abruptly stood up, sending the chair clattering to the floor. He whirled around and stumbled towards the empty space Steve left behind.

“You better take care of him. Wayne is a good man, he’s earned–” Eddie said to…the wall? But stopped and reeled back. His mouth curved down in a scowl. Eddie’s eyes were dark and glowering as he stared at something there that Steve himself could not see.

“Oh, fuck you, I know I can’t do anything to you but–”

Eddie stopped again. He looked like he wanted to punch something. Or someone?

“I just want to know that he’ll be happy and saf–hey, asshole, I’m still talking you, don’t you dare– FUCK,” Eddie shouted at nothing. He panted in anger. Steve cleared his throat.

“My Lord?”

“I forgot how much of a dick he is. It’s not like I was asking for details! I don’t fucking care what’s past his stupid Door. It’s not a crime to want your family to, like, go somewhere good after. He could’ve just said yes or no!” Eddie ranted.

“My Lord, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Oh,” Eddie paused. “Right. You wouldn’t. And you shouldn’t. Not yet. Not for a long time, hopefully.”

------

*starmaker - so this is a reference to some lore i dropped in the previous scene during some edits I made after I had posted it on tumblr. basically, the legend explains why bedtime stories are a thing and that the lord of night creates a star for every story that impresses him. a really good book or author will get called a starmaker, though to the general population it's just a thing people say to denote greatness in stories without context of where the saying came from.

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and now we're all caught up with what i've written so far, wow! but don't worry, i still have plenty more to write, stay tuned.

#trensu tells stories #stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #wayne munson #eddie munson #stasis in darkness #in other news #during my time being laptop-less i got top surgery done!#and i'm finally all healed up so i can move around without pain and i have full range of motion again #now with a laptop and being free of post-surgery incumberance #i'm very excited to be writing again #i mean look! we finally got eddie's name back!! he's got a face!! steve is absolutely smitten even though he doesn't know it yet!!#listen he's convinced that this is a normal emotional reaction to a god okay? he's never done the religion thing before #he doesn't know any better!#anyway now that we got eddie's name back we're going to go off on adventures! we'll be meeting other gods it's gonna be fun i promise #but it's 1am now and i should probably go to bed so that'll have to wait for now

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ohimsummer · 4 months ago

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the day is winding down. orange spreads over the horizon as the sun sets, casting a warm hue onto the balcony.

"hmm...", satoru ponders, twirling a wine glass full of juice in his hand. "never have i ever faceplanted on the beach."

"oh, that was one time.", you giggle at him before taking a swig from your own glass, one actually filled with wine. "never have i ever puked after half a shot at a get-together."

your smile widens as satoru narrows his eyes at you, his pink lips stretching into a grin. "fine." he takes a sip of his drink.

"never have i ever..."

the game goes on long past when the sky has grown dark. you and satoru eventually head back inside, down to the kitchen to clean your empty glasses.

you're rinsing said glass, humming idly when satoru clears his throat, and your ears tune in for what he's about to say next.

"never have i ever been married."

your shoulders tremble as you give an airy laugh. "maybe you should've waited to put your glass away."

shaking water off your hands, you turn, and your heart stutters in your chest at the sight of satoru on his knee. there's an open, black box in his hand, displaying a gorgeous ring with a large gem that glitters under the kitchen light. satoru stares back at you with an expectant gaze and a grin that shows off adorable dimples.

"actually, baby,", he says as the tears well into your eyes, "i think we both should've waited."

#this cheesy and stupid just like him <3 my pookie #not proofread i'm writing this in one go LOLZ enjoy ur late night snack before bed #⋆｡ﾟ☁︎ summy is thinking . . . ｡⋆#gojo imagine #gojo x reader imagine

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hualianschild · 2 years ago

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let's talk abt hua cheng and the way his entire *almost* existence relates back to xie lian cuz it's been my current roman empire, his name having the word 'hua' which means 'flower' can be seen as relating to xie lian's god name (the flower crowned martial god), also he's called crimson rain sought flower cuz he was shielding a lone white flower (also represents xie lian) from the blood rain (he can be the said 'flower' in that rain too actually), that red coral pearl on his hair braid ? it belongs to xie lian, that red string tied around his finger, xie lian tied strands of his hair around that finger which represents marriage and ofc the red-string-of-fate soulmate trope, he has xie lian's name tattooed on him in his terrible writing, made an entire city just so his love can come there and rest and build a temple there so he can worship him and remained his only devotee when xl lost everything (that thing abt gods being in existence as long as there is someone to worship them) he gave up on becoming a god cuz then who will be worshipping his god ?? isn't afraid to show his true form to xl which he never did to anyone, destroyed those thirty three gods cuz they ridiculed his gege, took lqq along with him to qi rong's den so he can clear the false accusations even if xl didn't want him to CUZ YOU WILL NAWT BE HATING HIS DIANXIA OVER THINGS HE NEVER DID i mean his entire existence is because xie lian said 'if you can't find any reason to live, make me your reason to live' and oh isn't that level of devotion and love so devastating ?

#this doesn't mean that hc isn't his own person and have his own personality but most importantly he's his gege's fav person ^^#i remember once xl said ' it's been a while someone listened to me won't you stay ' to hc and OH I LOVE THEM #guys i love hua cheng so much idk if i want to be like him or be with someone like him :(#and i rarely call him san lang cuz that's a name only his gege is allowed to call him by and I feel like I'm intruding #hualian my roman empire every other week ever since i read tgcf back in 2021 #I'm writing this before going to bed hope hualian blesses me in my dreams and my exams go well tmrw #okay good night hualian forever 🗣️#tgcf #heaven officials blessing #tian guan ci fu #san lang #hua cheng #hualian #xie lian #heaven official's blessing #mxtx #crimson rain sought flower #mo xiang tong xiu #hualian meta #tgcf meta

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crabsnpersimmons · 1 year ago

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Miss, it's time to go to bed. Are you on your phone again? Sleeping late will ruin your lovely skin. This is the final warning. If you don't fall asleep now, We are going to dance. - "잘자요 아가씨" by ASMRZ

found this song and i was possessed to draw @starriegalaxy's butler Eclipse dancing to it

(also i apologize in advance for my horrendous hiragana, hangul, and cursive)

Textless, effectless version under the cut!

#fnaf eclipse #fnaf dca #dca fandom #fear factor au #he's sweet and multilingual #and his silly little dance will charm you all #the power of shoujo compels you #me drawing the roses: maybe people will be too distracted by the pretty butler bot to notice i don't know what i'm doing #me writing the hiragana hangul and cursive: maybe people will be too distracted by the pretty butler bot to notice i don't know what i'm do #took some creative liberties by giving him a tail coat #because he needed more sway to his silhouette #and i like tail coats #this is also lowkey a surprise for starrie after he presentation today #after i finished drawing i saw another translation that goes #“oh dear mischievous princess”#which is also good #but i like how “this lady is unstoppable” is also kinda motivating too haha #i'm not fluent so i don't know which is closer tho #i know “やれやれ” can be translated to “good grief” but i felt like “oh dear” fit the tone better #crab art #digital art #bright colours #okay i'm going to bed now before butler Eclipse dances the night away

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sage-lights · 1 year ago

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something... anything... around that amangela merch shoot hug? 👀 -shesmore-shoebill

"Amanda!"

Before she is fully awake and able to register where that voice was coming from, Amanda notices an amorphous mass in a black hoodie barreling towards her. She's knocked back a step when Angela finally collides with her, wrapping her arms around Amanda's waist and squeezing so tight that Amanda's convinced that she might crushed a rib.

"Ugh, it feels like ages since I've seen you," Angela looks up at her and whines, "What took you so long to get here?"

Amanda slowly pulls Angela in closer, reciprocating the hug in an attempt to appear normal and not like she's dying inside. She just hopes Angela isn't able to feel or hear her rapidly beating heart with her face pressed against Amanda's chest.

"There was a crash on the 5 as I was driving over," Amanda half-lies. It was true, there was a three car pile up that slowed Amanda's morning commute, but she could've easily avoided it if she didn't spend so long trying to mentally prepare herself for coming back to work.

Angela huffs, "Well, at least you're here now. You didn't miss to much honestly. We've mostly been messing around while Brennan sets up the cameras."

Amanda doesn't say anything, but thankfully, Angela doesn't acknowledge the strange silence. Instead, she perks up again, "I have so much to update you on between shots. And you've got to tell me about your relaxing week-long vacation up in the Bay!"

Yeah, sure. It was totally relaxing. Not like Amanda decided, on a whim, to drive up north and run away from everything that's haunting her in Los Angeles. (God, does her name have to be so similar to LA? It's like everything is a reminder of her!) Not like Amanda didn't spend the week trying to convince herself this schoolyard crush was embarrassing and forcing herself to get over it. Not like Amanda didn't spend the week building resentment towards her closest friend.

But Amanda looks at her now. The slight crinkle around Angela's eyes and the way her smile shines so bright and genuine. Who is Amanda kidding, she wouldn't be able to stay mad even if her life depended on it.

There, in those two big brown eyes, is where her world began and ended.

"Yeah," Amanda releases herself from the embrace, but still keeps one arm around Angela's shoulders, "I'll tell you all about it."

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word count: 400

(for @shesmore-shoebill, hopefully this is disaster!amanda enough for you LOL)

#again this is complete word vomit so let's all agree to ignore any mistakes i made #i'm literally writing this right before i go to bed lmfao and i also think it's silly that i wrote exactly 400 words #amanda lehan canto #angela giarratana #amangela #smosh rpf #smosh fanfiction #smosh #asks!

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ratsoncats · 5 months ago

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I'm worried

Hi, I'm Gabe, I'm 19, and I live in the U.S.

I am a trans man. This is something that has been apparent to me for years now, and something I have suspected (or, in a way, hoped for) for most of my life. I have always felt a joy in aligning myself with the masculine as opposed to the feminine. There are countless personal experiences I could point to in order to show you how I know I'm trans. If you're curious, I could do that. But, for what I aim to say here, I don't think that is necessary. What's important to know is that I like living as a man, being seen as a man, and it burdens me with a deep discomfort and practical disgust to be perceived as anything but.

I've made a sort of peace with my body. My face isn't something I'd consider to be pretty and I keep my hair short. Baggy clothes cover my chest and the rest of my body well. Most days, no one has any idea that I'm trans and simply see me as some boy picking up a gallon of milk. I'm happy that that's the case; I know many others aren't as lucky. I still have my share of reservations about my body, though. I am perfectly fine with being short (to the extent that I even celebrate it), but my chest, my hips, and my thighs bring me dysphoria. (Genitals are a different story that I'd rather not get into on the internet with strangers.) These parts of me are usually easy to ignore, but when I focus on them for too long, sadness overtakes me. I don't want to look like this. I want to be flat, boxy, small. The image of myself in my head doesn't align with what I see in the mirror, and it drags me down.

Another part of me says that cisgender men can have bodies like this, too, and that I shouldn't feel like any less of a man because of it. A third part says that curvy and top-heavy trans men are still men all the same and that stressing over it won't bring any good. As much as it feels good to listen to these voices, I still long for my ideal body. I long because it's a personal desire of mine to look that way, plain and simple. I also long, however, to make day-to-day public life to go smoother. I want people to mistake me for a girl less and call me "sir" and "young man" more; I'd prefer my body to read as a more convenient physical shorthand for manhood.

So, for the sake of my comfort and continued enjoyment of my time on this earth, I'd like to change how my body looks. One way to achieve this would be through the use of testosterone, which, on top of rearranging the stores of fat in my body, would also provide me with the welcome bonus of increased facial and body hair. I am also very interested in receiving top surgery to make my chest more masculine. It lifts my mood just to think of what my body would be like after these treatments, even moreso to know that there is a real possibility that they could be done.

The current climate around trans topics worries me. All I want is to live comfortably, but discussions about criminalizing transness have me fearing the worst. I don't want to force anything onto anyone, to limit or in any way alter anyone's speech, insert myself someplace where I'm endangering others or putting them at a disadvantage, or publicly indulge in a fetish. I'm a simple man with simple desires of a flat chest and he/him pronouns, but there's an army formed against me and people with similar stories.

I'm an American. I believe in freedom. A deep respect for the freedom of speech is something my dad has instilled in me from a young age and that freedom is something I'm thankful for. I believe that if someone wants to say something, they should be able to, and that if someone wants to do something, given that it doesn't bring harm to anyone else (or their property, etc.), they should be able to do it.

There are gray areas that come with that idea, yes, but those are outside the scope of this discussion. What I want to address here are procedures that improve a person's quality of life, procedures like gender-affirming surgery. If this so-called "mutilation" is as bad as some would say, why are so many people happier for having undergone it? Should consenting adults really be kept from personal pursuits like top or bottom surgery? Cis people get cosmetic surgeries all the time, but I don't see the public uproar about those procedures being mutilation. I would also like to ask, what does it matter to you whether someone's genitals could cause or support a pregnancy? The decision to raise a child is a very personal one, and I don't think the general public's ideas need to hold much weight in a potential-parent-to-be's decision making process. If someone is okay with the fact that their body may not work as before and will have visible scars, I think they should be completely within their right to have a surgery or take hormones.

I'd like to revisit the topic of free speech. Someone speaking about their experiences and feelings in their body and about their gender should not be considered pornographic. The average conversation about trans people in no way serves to provide sexual stimulation. Topics regarding genitals and sex should not be confused with explicit content; sex ed is taught in schools, isn't it? Education on these topics is important for many reasons and can prevent unwanted, painful, and dangerous situations. Conversations about transness are simply a dialogue about people's experiences, often with the intention of educating their audience. Given that they aren't intended to get the audience off, they are not porn. People living their lives is not porn. Transness isn't porn.

It deeply concerns me to see people misconstruing what it means to be trans and trying to limits trans healthcare and voices. I have hope for the future, but recent discourse has buried that under a layer of anxieties.

I'm just a boy, sitting at his laptop, worrying about if he's going to have to live with B-cups for the next ten years of his life. Being vocal about issues like this is important. This is how change happens.

The conditions were just so that I decided it was about time I write this. This is my first time posting something like this, but I don't think it'll be my last. Let's keep this conversation going, and let's make this country and this world a place we're happy to call home.

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