#🌕— dark content.

[chikaras-garden]

Batboys as things that go bump in the night

So what if he’s not human?

Pairings: Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne x fem!reader

Contains: Monsterfucking. Dubcon. Unprotected piv sex in Dick’s, Jason’s, and Damian’s. Blood in Bruce’s. Somnophilia and light breeding kink in Dick’s. Knotting in Jason’s. Oral sex (f!receiving) in Tim’s. Degradation in Damian’s.

Notes: 18+ or you’ll be blocked. Happy Halloweekend angels!

BRUCE WAYNE 🦇

A loner. A constant shadow over Gotham. A collector of all things macabre. And now, he has his sights set on you. You’re a pretty thing, dressed in all black at a late-autumn gala, and you can feel the intensity of his gaze on you even when your back is turned.

So it’s no surprise that, when you tempt fate by rounding a corner into a deserted hallway, you are not alone.

Stepping out of the shadows, Bruce’s hand clamps around one side of your throat, leaving just one side—the side of your pulse—exposed for his lips. He kisses you there far more than he kisses your lips, nibbling and suckling the soft flesh over your pulse. Your heart beats faster and faster as your knees go weak, but his arm tightens around you.

“I have you, darling,” he husks. His skin is cold against yours, but perhaps that’s because the all-consuming presence of a man like this makes your blood run hot.

His other hand comes up to cup your flushed cheek, thumb dragging along the shape of your face as if he’s trying to memorize you.

“So warm. Such soft skin,” he murmurs, bending his head low and kissing your neck. “Such a beautiful creature.”

Something twists in your stomach when he says that—creature. An instinct tells you to run, but you quickly realize that the look in his eyes has you completely enthralled. He’s watching you with purpose, always keeping your eyes locked as if looking away from you will break the spell he has you under.

“I have to taste you,” he whispers, voice raw with a strain whose source you cannot place. He inhales deeply and lets out a low, feral noise before you feel a twinned shock of pain that makes you gasp: blood rushes to your neck and spills from your broken skin onto his waiting tongue, which greedily laps at the sweet nectar he just stole.

DICK GRAYSON 🦇

You never remember what happened the morning after your nights with your blue-eyed visitor in black, but you can’t stop the way your body aches for the mysterious stranger. At first, you thought he was a dream, but even you know that your unconscious can’t conjure up something as beautiful as him.

He wakes you by laying on top of you, pushing his hot-as-Hell flesh against yours. You didn’t go to sleep naked, but you’re naked now; your clothes are gone, but you’re covered with him, his mouth latched onto one of your nipples, one of his hands painfully squeezing the other, and his red-tipped cock already bullying its way into your slick folds. 

It hurts, but the ache is so dizzying that you can’t bring yourself to care, especially when you’re aware that you won’t remember this by morning anyway. You feel as if you’re being burned alive and made new in just the way he wants you. And that feels good, doesn’t it? Why else would you have woken up with your pussy soaking wet? 

He picks his head up just enough to watch you watch him while his tongue traces the outer edge of your areola and flicks your nipple in slow strokes, teasing it into hardness with just the tip of his tongue. He’s kneeling between your legs, and his free hand slides down to gently stroke your belly—which is when you notice that his fingers, like his cock, are tipped with blood-red skin.

Then comes his dark murmur, “Let me fill you, pretty thing. Let me give you a little gift to help you remember me.”

Your breath catches and, once again, he latches on—teeth first, this time.

At the same time, he thrusts into you, cock heavy and fire-hot, searing your skin and all but tearing you open while you keen and grasp at him, fingernails scraping down his back. His warmth is inescapable as he thrusts into you with inhuman force.

And you swear that, when he comes, filling you with his infernal seed, you catch a glimpse of a ruby glimmer in his once-blue eyes.

JASON TODD 🦇

Honestly, you handled finding out that your boyfriend is a werewolf remarkably well. But because you’re a human, he has one rule: no knotting. That is, until an October full moon has him more feral than usual, trapped in a rut that he’s powerless to fight against.

Jason has you hiked up against his chest, barely balanced on his thick thighs with your panties shoved aside. One finger is pressed firmly against your clit, the claws that come with his half-transformed state lightly grazing your sensitive skin. He’s already buried inside of you, thrusting so shallowly that he may as well be humping your innermost walls.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, dropping his head onto your shoulder. His skin rages with heat while his muscles tremble, lips mouthing along any inch of your skin that he can reach. Head heavy on your shoulder, he rasps out broken sentences, each cut off by animalistic whimpers and whines. “God, fuck— I can’t— I shouldn’t— You’re—”

You have one hand tangled in his hair, thumbing the soft black-and-white fur that crawls up along his hybrid ears. His cock, impossibly thick already, stretches you even more open than you already were, and you throw your head back to let out a moan of mixed pleasure-pain.

“Fuck,” he whispers, because he feels it too. “Baby, I’m— It’s—”

“Let it,” you gasp, feeling lightheaded with the pain of Jason filling you so completely, cockhead swelling so full that he couldn’t pull out even if he wanted to. “Please, please, Jason, I need it.”

All that gets you is another guttural groan from him, a sound as close to a howl as he can make without being fully transformed. Still swelling, his cock is thick, heavy, hot—pulsing inside of you, begging to stay there, to fill you, to mark and mate with you. You can’t imagine what it must look like, but you know that the feeling is divine: this oneness, this wholeness, is something you’ve never felt before. It’s almost enough to dull how much your pussy aches.

“Jason,” you moan, tears filling your eyes.

“I know,” he soothes, trying to stay sturdy and stable for you even though his whole body is trembling. “Fuck, it— Baby, you feel so good. Such a good fucking girl, letting me mate with you. Gonna make you feel amazing, I promise.”

TIM DRAKE 🦇

“Stay still,” Tim teases, clawed fingers clamping down on your hip. “Or no rewards.”

Your back is pressed against the chilly, damp wall of the bat cave, and your clothes are shreds around your feet. You know this is all your fault, that you should have avoided the man who has only made his obsession with you painfully clear. As soon as the half-dragon spotted you—his treasure, his paramour, his little human love—he pounced. 

Half changed with pewter green scales climbing up his skin and pupils narrowed into reptilian slits, Tim wastes no time in turning your clothes into ribbons of fabric in effort to get to you.

And then he drops to his knees, burying his face in between your legs.

The forked tongue laves up and down the folds of your pussy, skirting along the outside of your sopping hole until you’re shuddering, clinging to him. His hand digs in harder, talons piercing the soft skin of your ass, scaly palm forcing your cunt against his mouth until you feel the sting of sharpened teeth against your mound.

Even though his teeth sting your pulsing flesh, even though his licks are too fast to be completely pleasurable, you feel yourself grow slick around his tongue. Your head falls back against the wall and you begin to pant, heart beating so fast that you start to feel faint, teetering on the edge of consciousness.

His forked tongue reaches impossibly deep within you. The fleshy muscle feels wrong but also so good, skin fading from soft pink to greenish-black, its texture rough and bumpy, stimulating you from more directions than you have ever felt at once. 

He licks all the way to your cervix—a thing no mere mortal man could ever do to you—greedily biting, sucking, and growling against your throbbing, abused pussy until finally you come with a pitiful, worn-out scream.

You feel his ice-cold lips pull into a smile as he breathes, “Good human. Now give me another—or three more. Maybe five.”

DAMIAN WAYNE 🦇

You go to the guardian of an ancient library for help but, poor you, the sphinx’s riddles prove too challenging for you. In accordance with the legends, you expect to be smited on the spot, or at least banished, but instead—the sphinx shifts to his human form and decides that you are his.

How lucky it is that Damian decides he likes you enough to keep you captive instead of simply killing you as punishment. How lucky it is that he is clever enough to find a use for your frail human form. How lucky it is that he doesn’t find mating with you as repulsive as he originally thought.

“At least work for it,” he drawls, stifling a yawn while he leans back on the emerald-green settee. His arms are spread, powerful shoulders and biceps making him look even bigger than he already is. No, he never touches you—that would be demeaning—but he does offer you the privilege of riding his cock until you make yourself come.

You close your eyes and drive your hips forward and down, trying to strike the spot inside you that only he can reach. No sooner than your eyes flutter closed, though, he snaps his fingers in front of you.

“Look at me, pet.” His head rests on the back of the chair, lips parted with every breath that makes his chest slowly rise and fall. His face looks warm and you wonder what it might feel like to kiss those plush lips—but you’re also coherent enough to realize that he’s measuring his breaths on purpose.

You’re getting to him. You think. You hope. Maybe if you please him, he’ll let you go. 

He shifts his hips up and you cry out, nearly losing your balance on his powerful thighs, but a warm hand suddenly cups your ass to drag you back into place. He leans forward, stomach flexing, and murmurs in your ear, “Can’t even do this without help, can you? Useless little human.”

[pullupinarari]

Hold you tight to me [LH]

author’s note: this is part two of 'love you 'til I don't' based off this and this thoughts sent by my lovely 🌕 anon! Thank you so much for showing me a piece of your mind and for allowing me to write this based on your thoughts 🩷 hope yall enjoy this!! Mwah

• masterlist

wc: 6913 - english is not my first language! feedback is always appreciated

Waking up to a cold, empty bed, is something that none of Lewis’ trophies can change. No matter how hard he tries to pretend like he is content with his decision, putting on a façade for everyone else around him, he can’t lie to himself.

Every time he closes his eyes, he sees you. And every memory of moments that he spent by your side, every detail of your skin, your personality, your being, makes him miss you more and more. 

The room that you two once shared is now half empty, everything that belonged to you is now gone. You left, and took everything with you - including Lewis’ heart in your hands, leaving an incessant feeling of emptiness in his chest, a void that only you can fulfill. 

Every night, he spends infinite hours awake, the weight of his decisions feeling like he is carrying the world in his chest, making it hard for him to breathe. And every morning, he stares at the ceiling, feeling like a blank page himself, wishing that he could go back and erase the dumbest choice that he has ever made. 

You were the one he would always run to whenever things would get hard, but without you by his side, he doesn’t know how to get through his most difficult days. A night of missing you turned into a thousand days of loneliness surrounding his heart, burying his happiness, his light, with your leaving. 

This is all his fault, of course it is - he is the one who told you that he needed to be alone to focus on his career, only to end up wishing he could return all his prizes and trophies if it meant that he could have you back. 

He spent his entire life searching for someone like you, and when he finally got it, he decided to let you go - after sharing his deepest secrets with you, after sharing his entire life with the only person that made him feel complete. 

The thing is, you never wanted to leave, you never wanted to let him go. And if Lewis isn’t doing well after causing all this, you can’t even begin to explain how this entire situation broke you entirely, even to the deepest, most intimate corners of your insides. 

Nothing is left of the person that you once were. You became so unrecognizable to everyone around you but especially to yourself, that the embarrassment of assuming the destruction that characterizes you now, made you leave everything, and everyone behind. 

You disappeared, leaving a trail of ashes behind - the sparkle of the old you, the bubbly, happy girl with the brightest, most honest smile that Lewis had ever seen in his entire life. And it’s been so long, now. Lewis has lost track of time, every night waiting to hear from you, hoping he could finally get a reply to all the messages that he still sends you from time to time - begging you to pick up his calls, pleading for you to listen to what he has to say. But silence is the only reply he gets in return, crushing his entire soul into pieces. 

But he never gave up. Not even after saving your favorite spot at Silverstone, only for his gesture to end up being ignored by you, not daring to show up at his race. 

No matter how much he cries, nothing is going to make you feel better about the way he made your entire world collapse - through a cowardly text. All the sleepless nights, the crying that never let up, stealing all your will to live, leading to never ending days that you wasted by rotting in bed, hiding in the darkness of the closed curtains of your bedroom, so the world wouldn’t hear your weeping. 

But Lewis is a believer. And he needs to find you again, he needs to look into your eyes one more time, he needs to let you know that he still feels the same way towards you that he has felt since the first day he asked you to be his girlfriend. He still has that sparkle in his eyes every time he scrolls through his camera roll, analyzing each detail in your pictures, adoring how you still feel so present, so alive inside of him - it almost feels like you aren’t out of his life, after all. 

But you are. And Lewis tries everything: he goes to your old house, to find out that a new family is living there now. He tries your parents’ house, only to be met with the bitterness of showing up in front of them, being the reason why you decided to leave the city. He even tried to talk to your best friend, and he knows that your closest ones will never welcome him again, giving his body to the bullets of everything he caused - realizing that his decision didn’t just affect you and him, but it did change something in the lives of everyone else around you. 

Knowing that you moved out of town, removing him from all your social media as you did so, Lewis felt like he had no choice but to hire a private detective - trying his best to locate you, desperation hitting the british man to the point of putting every effort and every penny into trying to find you. 

He makes sure to keep this just for himself, though, feeling like nobody understands him. Everybody keeps telling him to let you go, to forget about you, but how can he ignore such a strong and demolishing feeling of love that pools inside of him, igniting all his senses every time that he thinks about you? 

Deep down, Lewis knows what it looks like: him, standing still in the same place, while you move on with your life. But he is not a quitter, he is used to dreaming the impossible. And the more people tell him that he won’t find you, the more he believes that you will show up at the right time. 

Every single night, he prays that he will be able to see you again, hoping that you are able to let him speak once you’re face to face again. And during the dawn, he always dreams about you: his mind playing tricks on him, reminding him of your sweet scent, the way the smell of your shampoo could be noticed around the house, how your touch always felt so warm against his cold body whenever he needed you the most - creating a cinematic piece of the happiest moments, the most divine details that he was lucky enough to live by your side, only for him to wake up to disappointment, noticing how he is still sleeping by himself. 

After some months of searching, the detective calls Lewis to give him the news: he found out where you live now. Leaving London behind, you are now trying to find yourself in the quietness of the countryside after having moved to Scotland, away from the big city and everyone who knows you.

As soon as Lewis got the call, he immediately cleared his schedule, preparing everything to go to Scotland. He can’t waste any more time, he can’t lose the opportunity to finally see you again, after nearly two years passing since the day he sent you that stupid text.

The next morning, the man drives to the village that the detective told him about. Lewis decides to park the car near a small coffee shop - a place that you go to every morning, according to the information that he received. He patiently waits inside of the vehicle, hoping he can have a glimpse of you, even from afar. 

Truth be told, he is scared, absolutely terrified of your reaction once you see him. And he doesn’t even know what he is supposed to do once the sight of you breaks in front of his eyes - but the sudden glimpse of a girl that looks just like you, makes him blink his eyes harder, trying to make sure that his vision is working correctly. 

He leans further into his car seat, trying to hide himself while his eyes never leave the figure walking in front of him. The girl looks just like you - damn, it really is you. Why is his brain trying to play it like it’s someone else?

Maybe it’s because you look absolutely unrecognizable. It’s visible that you lost weight, and not in a healthy way, and he almost can’t identify you through the dark, long clothes that you are wearing. You used to be a girl full of life, with a big personality, you used to wear bright colors in your outfits to express yourself. And now, you are dressed in all black, wearing a turtleneck, a long coat, hiding every inch of skin Lewis was once lucky enough to travel his hands through. 

If you still use your clothes to express your personality, you’re now manifesting the mourning of the person that you used to be, embracing the darkness that lives inside of you now, that has taken over your body. You hide yourself from the majority of looks, trying your best not to attract much attention to you, wanting to keep the lowest of profiles. And that’s why you like it here. Nobody knows you besides the lovely lady working at the shop, already knowing how you order your coffee and what your favorite thing to eat for breakfast is.

You are just trying to find a new sense of comfort, creating a new space that you wish you will be able to call ‘home’, one day. Though you would be lying if you said you didn’t recognize that, most of the time, you don’t really know what you’re doing here. 

Lewis’ mouth is slightly agape at the sight of you, trying to breathe through the clenching that he feels in his chest. Watching with his own eyes, the trail of destruction that his stupid decisions left behind, is enough to make him feel sick to his stomach, with some tears swelling in his eyes already. 

He decides to stay in the car, watching you leave the coffee shop, slowly walking back home as he rethinks everything that he has ever done in his life. Never, in a million years, would he expect to see you look like this, with such a tired, pale, lifeless facial expression. 

Guilt hammers in his veins, slamming reality into the front of his head, comparing the girl that he used to date to the woman that he just saw - unable to forgive himself for the irreparable damages that he caused you, all because of his ego. 

He spends the entire day thinking, questioning if he should really do this. He wants to, he desperately wants to talk to you, to hear your sweet voice, to look into your eyes. He needs to see for himself if you still hold any love for him now - because he swears to God that, as soon as he sees just a small glimpse of hope in you, he will do everything in his power to have you back, to make up for the biggest mistake of his life.

At the same time, he is so afraid of your reaction to him showing up in front of you. The infinite possibilities and scenarios running through his mind are enough to make his body tremble slightly, his hands feeling sweaty as his heart races in his chest. 

It’s a shot in the dark. But, at dinner time, he sees you walking into the diner once again, and he gathers the courage in himself to leave his car. Taking deep breaths while slowly walking to the entrance, he can already see you, sitting at a table at the back of the place, thanks to the big windows that adorn the walls. 

He nips at the skin of his lips absently, a way to try and calm down the anxiety building up inside of him. Your eyes are focused on the menu that your hands are holding, reading each line of it attentively, and it’s noticeable how you really aren’t expecting a soul to bother you. The way you look like you are in your own little world, your mind elsewhere while you decide what to eat, the distraction emanating from your eyes, mirroring only the words on the menu. 

Lewis stands still at the door, taking a second to take in your presence, the fact that you are only a few steps away from him. His feet walk by themselves, being completely attracted and magnetized to you - in the exact same way it happened on your first date. Some things just never change.

- Can I? - a too familiar voice startles you. For a second, you stare at the paper in front of you, feeling frozen in place, unable to look up. But, after taking a deep breath, your eyes decide to meet him.

There he is, the reason why you moved out of your city, why you left your family and friends behind. The reason why you aren’t you anymore, the reason why your entire life changed - for the better at first, but for the worst in the long term. 

When your eyes meet, it’s like a million bullets hitting you in your core, bringing back all the memories - the good ones, the bad ones, the passion and the pain that you feel inside of you. 

You stay silent, not having the nerve to answer his question, but seeing how he decides to sit in front of you anyway. There’s a moment of silence between your bodies, while both of you analyze the other’s features. There’s a strange sensation in the air, feeling like you two are strangers all over again - realizing that he is a stranger that you know every single detail of. 

You’re amazed by how Lewis looks the exact same as he did the last time you saw him. Same soft chocolate eyes, the usual kind smile playing on his lips. The same aura of a man that will break your heart, glue all your pieces back together, only to repeat the cycle over and over again, as many times as he wishes. 

When you look at him, you can feel the bitterness in your mouth, due to all the anger that you drank effortlessly, as if it was water. But, at the same time, you can’t deny that he holds a part of yourself in him, a part of a past that you can only see when you look into his eyes - it seems like passion and pain really do taste the same when you’re weak and heartbroken. 

On the other side, Lewis looks at you and he feels his heart shrinking. Your sad features alarm him, letting him know once again, that he is the cause of all this. Since the first second that you passed by his car, he wanted nothing more than to have you back, to hold you tight to his chest, to wrap his arms safely around your frame, never letting you go again.

Lewis came all the way here with a mission, to make things right. And the more he looks into your empty, devastated eyes, the more he wants to save you from everything, to protect you. From the world surrounding you, from all the bad, even from your self, the side of you that he doesn’t recognize anymore. He just wants to fix everything that destroyed you. 

- What are you doing here? - he finally hears your voice, quiet and hoarse, sounding cold when addressing him and his presence. 

Lewis already knew that he would get that kind of tone from you, and he doesn’t blame you. He is here now, in person, to deal with the consequences of his actions - to hear every awful word, the anger that has bottled up inside of you for the past two years. 

So, he takes a deep breath, looking into your eyes as he starts speaking.

- It took me some months to realize how badly I fucked up, that’s true. But ever since the moment that I came to my senses, I never stopped trying to get to you, and you know that’s true. I keep clogging your phone with calls and texts, and I know it’s your right not to reply to any of those, but fuck, Y/N… You genuinely have no idea of how badly I am regretting every single stupid shit that I’ve done to you. And I just want you to listen to me, I want to make everything as right as I possibly can. - he admits, resting his hands on the table, so he can open his frame to you, a silent way for his body to say that it’s still welcoming yours.  - You’re soaring again, now. I can’t clip your wings with my return, Lewis. That’s why you got rid of me, remember? Because you wanted to focus on your career… I remember it all too well, unfortunately. - your tired voice informs, the sharpness of your words hitting the man in front of you right in the heart, piercing through it like a thousand stabs. 

He goes silent, feeling so weak, so bare after being hit by your harsh words, that he felt like he could turn into a puddle of tears in the middle of this coffee shop. He knows that he hurt you in a way that he could never really understand. And he could never understand how badly it killed you to let go of his hand, after he left you to fall into the abyss of being left with only sorrow, loneliness and a heartbreak to cure. 

But the thing that kills you the most, is the way you couldn’t stop feeling the weight of being a burden to him, burning you to the point of your ashes burying themselves amongst his high waves of wins. 

It’s not because you don’t cry anymore, that you don’t feel it. Like they say, the older you get, the less you cry, right? After wasting all your tears on him, you feel like you’re going through a drought, which makes you bottle your feelings up even more. 

Either way, you just want him to succeed. If he chose to leave you for his collection of trophies, at least you hope it is worth it, so the enchanting glow of his awards can bring some light into his newfound routine. 

Lewis gets up from his seat without another word, leaving you alone at the table, walking out of the diner now. It’s not surprising to you that he would quit again, giving up on you whenever things would get hard. No matter how bad it might sting to watch him turn his back on you again, after coming all the way here just to see you, it’s probably for the best. 

The waitress brings your food, and as you start eating, you see Lewis walking inside the coffee shop again, this time whilst holding a leash in his hand. The sound of four paws clinking on the marble floor catches your attention, and you move to see the dog that was once your therapist, your company, your best friend: Roscoe. 

You have to hold yourself from squeaking at the sight of your beloved dog, missing him like crazy after years without seeing him, but you don’t want to give in. Either way, Roscoe knows who you are, sitting at your feet while curiously looking up at you, turning his head to the side slowly, begging for your attention. 

Your fingers carefully pet the dog’s head, scratching his ears the way you remember that he loves it so much, a small smile appearing on your face for the first time today, as you feel him lying at your feet now. 

Lewis smiles fondly at your interaction, noticing how you try to hold your smile when looking back at him. 

- We are here to stay. For as long as it’s needed, until you decide to give me an opportunity and actually listen to me. - your ex-boyfriend says with a grin on his face, patting Roscoe’s bum with a giggle. 

You raise an eyebrow at his words.

- Don’t you have work to attend to? A crazy schedule to keep up with? - you try to shrug off what he said, unconsciously trying to find excuses to make him leave now. 

He shakes his head at your questions.

- Cleared my entire schedule for the foreseeable future. I actually needed a break, and this place looks calm, peaceful, beautiful, surrounded by nature. Just what I like. 

The cheeky grin showing on his face now makes you use all your power to prevent a chuckle from erupting from your lips, now. And he clearly knows the effect that he still has on you. 

Lewis knows that he won’t get you back that easily, after causing you so much harm. If he wants to have you back in his arms, if he wants you to trust him again like you used to, he is going to have to really earn his way back into your life.

Every night, Lewis would dedicate his time to think even more about you, thinking of ways to win your heart back. He wrote you a letter, of all the things that he never said to you. The piece of paper is safely kept in his pocket, thinking about giving it to you anytime, but the fear of it being considered ‘cringe’, or simply not good enough for you, makes him keep it to himself. 

And every morning, he parks his car in front of the coffee shop, with Roscoe quietly following behind him as he picks a table to sit, patiently waiting for the time you show up to have breakfast. 

Every single morning, at the same time, there he is: sitting at the back, a gentle smile on his face as he gestures for you to sit with him. You feel divided between all the resentment lingering on your heart, and the way his presence makes you feel lighter, like he is pulling you back from the abyss that you had fallen into. But having his company for a couple of hours makes you feel better than the two years that you had spent alone, with barely anyone to talk to. 

It slowly becomes a type of tradition: Every morning, Lewis shows up, and even if you don’t feel like talking to him, he is still there - to keep you company, staying silent while admiring your features, while you pet Roscoe some more.

Your feet move on their own already, meeting him and the dog at the usual table, and most of the time, you don’t even have to say anything. Lewis had already ordered your usual breakfast, always asking for your favorite dishes that he could never forget.

In between the hours surrounded by silence, filled with shy looks, small touches, discreet blushes and trapped laughter, there are some moments when you two actually speak. And during one of those moments, he spoke to you about the letter, letting you know that there is an actual letter that he wrote you. 

The way your eyebrows arch lets him know that you are surprised by his revelation, eager to read it.

- You know that I’ve never been good with words. It’s kept somewhere safe, away from Roscoe’s mouth, but I am too embarrassed to hand it to you like that. It’s not good enough for you. - the man admits, feeling much smaller after these words leave his mouth.  - It’s like you don’t even know me. - you say, hinting that you could never find it ‘not good enough’. You are a simple person, used to seeing the beauty in the small things. But you look so different now, that Lewis is actually scared of not knowing you anymore, trying his best to study you again.

He listens to the playlists you used to put together for him at night, inspiring himself with the melodies that you would always rather listen to, remembering how your body would dance to the different rhythms. 

Putting all his ideas to work, Lewis ends up writing a song about you, pouring all his feelings for you into the melody. He knows he can’t just win you back while spending hours in silence, staring at you with hearts splattered all over his eyes inside a coffee shop. He knows by heart how tricky your brain can get, and doesn’t want you to spend every day inventing things in the middle of the silence that surrounds you two. 

You would often tell him that, if both of you knew what the other was thinking about, you would argue less and less. So he gains the courage to send you the audio clip of some of the verses that he wrote about his muse, wearing his heart on his sleeve as honesty washes over him with every lyric, letting you know everything that hangs over his mind. 

The sound of a new message on your phone catches your attention, and once you see that Lewis has sent you a voice note, you immediately press play, curious to find out what it is. The way his angelic voice sounds like honey, matching the way your heart slowly melts at the way he confesses his love for you over one of your favorite melodies ever, it’s enough to put tears in your eyes - feeling the stinging feeling of the salty liquid that you haven’t felt in so long, now. 

Once the audio ends, you are at a loss for words, genuinely not knowing what to say. To realize that Lewis is trying so hard to mend your broken heart, that he just did one of the most beautiful and special things that someone has ever done for you - it makes a familiar warmth spread across your chest. A familiar one, but one that you haven’t felt in so long.

Sometimes, things break so badly that they can’t be repaired. And when your relationship with him reached its end, you broke every single part of yourself - so much, so hard, that it reached a peak when you didn’t even know which part of yourself to fix, how to do it, or even if you could do it, believing that you couldn’t be repaired anymore.

Those thoughts still linger in your brain and yet again, the insecurities that still pool over you are bigger than anything else, so you decide not to reply to his message, only reacting to it with a heart. Little did you know that your reaction, the tiny red heart showing on his screen is enough to send Lewis into a blushing spiral, feeling like he is finally doing something right on the path to your heart. 

- I can’t stop apologizing for everything that I’ve put you through, but I honestly would give up every single thing that I’ve won so far, just to be lucky enough to look at your cute facial expressions every single day of my life again, until the day I die. - he tells you once again, letting you know how sorry he is every single day, either while you’re having breakfast together, or through a heartfelt text that reaches your phone by the end of the day.   - This is not just about saying sorry and writing me love songs, Lewis. I don’t think you have any idea of how things would have to change for me to even think about coming back to you. You would definitely have to stop putting your career first all the time. I grew tired of being traded for dumb trophies, like I meant nothing. - the cold tone is back, remembering how you used to feel every night when he would text you all about how he got stuck in a work meeting, again. Only for you to go to sleep alone, again, after spending the entire day without landing your eyes on him. 

Lewis nods, agreeing with you one hundred percent. You can’t see his focused facial expression, directing your attention to Roscoe, petting the bestest boy you know, leaving kisses on his wrinkled forehead while talking to the dog with a baby voice - trying to distract yourself from the anger creeping through you again, as your ex keeps adding salt to your wounds.

The chuckle coming from his mouth makes you look back at him again with narrowed eyes. 

- You’re right, absolutely right. And that’s something that I have been doing lately already. I just cleared my entire schedule with no date to come back, I already had set a time limit for my meetings before coming here, trying my best to not stay out, drowned in work until late in the night ever again. 

As he explains all this to you, you look deeply into his eyes, reading into the glimpses of honesty and hope that linger in him.

- Losing you really changed me, Y/N. And that’s what I’ve been trying to show you. There hasn’t been a day where I haven’t thought about you. Every single thing reminds me of you, I keep every detail so close to me, feeling like it’s the only way I have to not let you go for good. Because I can’t do it, I don’t want to do it. - his voice trembles slightly.

Reaching for the pocket of his jacket, Lewis takes out a napkin, neatly wrapped so as to not ruin it. Unfolding it slowly, he shows you an old drawing that you did in the first months of your relationship. You remember that day so well: you and Lewis had gone to the beach, and were having lunch at a restaurant by the sea. While you patiently waited for the waiter to bring you your desserts, you grabbed a pen and quickly drew a cute, simple drawing of you, Lewis and Roscoe. The small sketch made with stick figures was basic, but so lovely in Lewis’ eyes. 

He kept the napkin, finding it way too cute to let it go to the trash like a useless piece of paper. These were the things that made him fall in love with you every single day. And ever since you left his life, he has religiously been carrying the paper everywhere with him - a small way to feel like you are still with him. 

- I can’t, for the life of me, forget about the love of my life. The reason why I became the man that I am today, the person who changed my entire life. - Lewis confesses one more time, and for the first time in years, your fingers touch slightly, as you reach to grab the napkin from his hands.

The small, innocent touch makes a sparkle light up in both of your bodies, and you can tell by the way you looked at each other right after it happened. You both felt it, some things really can’t be forgotten, and you can’t fake the way this made you feel. 

They say that the passion in the beginning is always going to be the best part of it, but rediscovering an old feeling, as powerful as the connection that binds you together, it’s like running to a blank page of a book, ready to write a new poem on it. 

And maybe, it’s not too late to keep the light surrounding your souls inside of your bodies for once, tying it up with all the time in the world that stops just for yourselves - in a way that you can slowly hear the rising of the birds every morning, before the sun rises.

Gathering some bravery in your veins, your hand slowly reaches for his fingers again, caressing them gently, as if you're afraid of his reaction. But looking him in the eyes, the intensity with which they shine calms down your racing heart.

There’s a relieved smile on his face, bringing out his most emotional side as he finally feels your caring touch again - the thing he has missed the most. The anxiety running through your body makes you retrieve your hand from his, keeping it to yourself. Lewis doesn’t take it personally, he understands that you need your space, your time, and he is willing to give it to you, if it means that he can slowly get his girl back. And that day, he goes back to his room with a feeling of regained hope, with a lighter heart beating safely in his chest.

You are fighting yourself at this point, the angel and the devil arguing in your brain as you try not to give into your emotions. Lewis is the reason why you hit rock bottom, after all. Why should you fall for his trap again? You can’t act stupid in times like these, he is just out to get you, only to break your heart again. 

Nevertheless, Lewis is your heart beating out of your chest. He is the personification of love, for you. He is the lap that holds you, the hands that caress your body and soul, the one who would steal the entire moon just to give it to you. He is your home, the reminiscing ashes of the old you - that you so desperately miss. Every street screams his name, and you wander around them in hope that you can find him in every corner. And now, he is so close to you and yet, you feel so far. 

A new morning rises, snow is filling the floor and makes it hard for everyone to walk, but still, you reach the coffee shop. Once you walk inside, you notice a cute old couple sitting at the table next to yours. 

Lewis is talking to Roscoe, and you almost can’t hear him as you find yourself entranced by the adorable couple. Both around their 80’s, you would say, gently holding hands and smiling at each other as they share a cup of hot chocolate with some whipped cream on top of it. 

You can’t help but smile every time you hear the older ones laughing, whenever one of them would end up with a small mustache made of cream. The sight truly is heartwarming, and it does make you think: this is the type of future that you always dreamed of having with Lewis by your side - the type to grow old with, forever in love with each other as you would still hold each other, make fun of each other, being comfortable to spent the entire life being yourselves next to each other. 

Looking back at him, the man in front of you is giggling nonstop, the sound blooming in your insides as it enters your ears, making a bigger smile show on your features. 

- Love, look! - he points to the window. 

Outside of the coffee shop it’s a baby bulldog, safely wrapped in a warm coat as it tries to walk on the ice with its human, sliding every now and then due to the slippery snow. 

- Doesn’t it look like Roscoe, when he was little? He looked just like that when we first got him. - Lewis reminds you, his toothy smile and giggles making butterflies erupt from your body, setting them free as you smile back at him, nodding at his words. 

This morning, you will probably ask him not to leave. You have the entire future right in front of you, and the will to live again - without being scared, forgetting all your fears, like you used to do before, stronger than any bruise that could have been left behind, while trying to follow your path to happiness. 

Getting up from your seat, you move to sit next to Lewis, and his arm instinctively wraps around your frame when you get closer to him. After a mere second of sharing love promises with your eyes, you finally attach your lips together, in a longing kiss - one that lets the other know how badly it has been missed. 

Lewis’ hand gently cups your cheek, deepening the kiss to savor your sweet flavor after years of dreaming about it. The warmth of his lips make your insides tingle, wishing you could live forever in the familiar feeling of his kisses - the only ones that feel right, with the only one that’s meant to be.

Neither of you want to break the kiss, dreading the idea of letting go of each other again, afraid that the other might run away if you do. However, the sweet sound of giggles coming from the side steals your and Lewis’ attention. There’s a smile shared by everyone as the old couple next to you beams at your show of affection, lovingly.

Turning your attention back to the man whose arms are safely keeping you near, he leaves a sweet kiss on your neck as you blush. 

- “Take me home, please.” - you whisper to him, your noses gently touching as you lock eyes with each other. 

He is your home, and you can feel it anywhere you go, as long as he is by your side. And Lewis knows that you don’t mean it literally, but figuratively instead - referring to the old you, begging him to help you bring the colorful, bubbly girl back, as you can already feel some new flowers starting to appear in the darkest corners of your soul, just by feeling his sweet, protective touch on you. 

The man hums sweetly. 

- I quite like it here. Calm, not too crowded, peaceful, surrounded by nature. I’m going through an indefinite break after all. - he winks at you, pecking your lips once more, promising his entire devotion to you, preferring to die than lose you again. - Yeah. - you look out of the window. - I like it here too. And it feels so much better with you here. - a soft blush creeps on your cheeks as you confess the way you feel about him. - Good. - he kisses your lips again. - Because I don’t plan on going anywhere without you. 

Roscoe starts jumping on you, asking for attention, reminding you that he is included in the plans, as well. 

- We aren’t going anywhere, of course. - Lewis laughs, taking the famous napkin from his pocket again, holding it in front of your faces. - My family is reunited again, not a single piece is missing anymore. 

You two share a passionate gaze, the sparkle in your eyes and the electricity running through your bodies totally speaking for yourselves, sealing the promise of a forever type of love with another breathtaking kiss, knowing for sure that this feeling will never end. 

(...) I know that it’s been a while since I’ve lost you, and consequently, you have lost yourself as well. I know that you probably don’t know what you’re doing here, questioning what life is doing with your body and soul, feeling helpless right now. But, my love, the only thing I want is to hold you, to kiss your face, every single detail of your features, your hands, your forehead. Even if the entire world collapses around us, our love will forever prevail in the memories of a secluded feeling, immortalized by the way I will always hold you after you fall. I will let you cry on the seat of my car for as long as you need to, while we walk around the immense streets of every city, of every country in this world - only for each apartment, each monument to teach us that home is not a set of four walls. Home is a person, and we both fit inside of it, because the infinitude of our love, safely contemplated inside our souls, is bigger than any mansion or penthouse. Luxury is being able to love you, to explore each centimeter of your body with my fingers, and getting to know every detail of your gorgeous being, realizing the division between feeling blessed and feeling frightened at the same time, every time your eyes land on me, looking into me. Your way still scares me, I know that wanting to have the world, but feeling like you never have a safe ground to step on still hurts you and I know it still haunts you. Every time I close my eyes, I can see you running with no direction, running away from your feelings. But I want to embrace them, to quiet them down, to replace them with happier ones, giving you everything you deserve. Give me a chance to build a roof over your heart, so it can stop raining so heavily on your devastated soul. Let me add some windows to it, so the sun can irradiate through you again. Let me hold you and dry you from all the storms chasing you. You’ll leave your wet wellies at the door, walking inside the warmth of my fireplace, where we’ll burn as one. Cause you are, and will always be, my home (...) - Lewis once wrote, in a letter destined to the love of his life, oblivious to the fact that she would find the paper hidden in between his clothes on a random day, making her heart swell with the tranquility of having made the right choice. Both of you really fit inside your platonic house when you’re by the side of the right person, that is, indeed, your home. 

[ilovecatfr]

I want to get into the void, but haven't yet. Trying not to lose hope

I have been trying to get into the void and have tried a lot of things. I either keep assuming "I am pure consciousness. I am the void" etc. constantly for long or just fall asleep. I do try not give my body attention and just feel as if I'm floating just to give myself the essence of not being attached to my body. And it's not like I'm being negative about it either. I completely believe in the void and I know I can get in. It's just that I still haven't and I don't know what else I can do. All day long I also repeat affirmations and sometimes just robotic affirmations. There are a few things that I am manifesting and I am really hopeful about it, and when nothing really happens, I tell myself that I'm not doing it right and try again. But I still believe I can because I understand that is important.

I don't know what to do anymore. Please help me out.

Also I don't want to shift. I want to manifest it in my reality and see the changes happening and unravel

So without trying to be mean I'm going to tell you what you are doing "wrong" while just being real

Let's start at the start, at the core of simplicity of the void.

🌘🌗🌖🌕🌔🌓🌒

WHAT IS VOID?

Void is the same thing as pure consciousness just different names, it not a place you are reaching it just YOU.

WHY DIDN'T YOU "REACH" THE VOID YET?

The affirmations you are doing are not helping you, they are limiting you. You are focusing too much on the wrong things.

YOU ARE FORGOTTEN WHO YOU ARE

You are the void, the purest state of consciousness, you are the creator of this reality, other words a GOD. Everything around you has been manifesting by you and you didn't need to do all those things to get it did you? It natural

To me it seems what you are doing is consuming too much information and techniques and what not. You said you are trying to give your body a feeling of floating but I see that as just focusing on your body and 3D.

HOW TO "GET" INTO THE VOID?

You are so focused on getting manifastions you want in your 3D while forgetting that it all happening in 4D. Stop putting void on the pedestal, it simply you so stop it. Stop consuming content about void because all you are doing is simply continuing the fascinating with it and harvesting more assumptions on how it done.

The only reasons why methods and affirmations work for some people is they have given them permission to be conditions that get them to the void.

Void is our most natural state of self so you do not need to do affirmations (especially robotic) and you do not need to get into any state to get to it. All you need to do is simply be you.

It is not about wanting nor getting, it is about embodying and accepting that it is already yours now.

"A TIP"

Instead of focusing to getting there with your assuming and what not just be there. And the best way to do it is to Imagen you are already there by giving your self peace and letting go of all there is to know. Being in void is state of calmness and happiness, it dark and you don't feel any negative "humen" emotions you felt here. Settle down with yourself and let go of it all and just know that you are what you are ( just simply "I AM" ) and let it flow through you, you can distract yourself from 3D any way you want, music you like or you can simply just stare into the darkness when you close your eyes.

Void is our true self and the only "human" feelings void has is love, happiness, calmness, creativity, excitement. When you don't pay attention to 3D and focus on that you feel simply by being your true state of self which is the so on called the void state.

Instead of "reaching" it EMBODY it

[lunarmoonanons]

Thorns

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Tyanna tries to convince Maegor that his wife is having an affair but he doesn’t believe and has her punished for slander.

Prequel to Wilted Rose

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Masterlist

Maegor liked to possess his wives. He showed affection in an overbearing way. Love came with a hand around the throat. Each of his wives felt the overwhelming imposing nature that was Maegor’s affection. But among the wives, there was his favorite: YN. 

At first there were three wives, then YN came to Maegor’s life. Then there were four. Until Ceryse died, and once again there were three. For a time Maegor was content with his wives. But when YN provided children and Alys did not, there was a growing impatience with the Harroway woman. All the while Tyanna whispered in the king’s ear. Alys felt immense jealousy when it came to YN and her children, wanting desperately to provide the king with her own son. 

At the moment YN had only given the king three children. Alys soured when she saw YN’s months old children. But soon Alys’ prayers would be answered. The king was pleasantly surprised when Alys gave him the news, even turning his ear away from Tyanna as he gave Alys affection. He was glad to have another child and finally one from Alys. 

Unlike YN, Alys accepted the teas that the dark woman offered during her pregnancy. YN did not let the witch anywhere near her body or her children, but Alys saw that Tyanna had healed Maegor once and now she was giving her healing brews and remedy’s. 

As the months ticked by, YN became pregnant once again and Alys’ stomach grew from the child. Yet the birth was not a happy occasion. The babe was an eyeless stillborn monstrosity. Maegor was furious. Killing all who attended the birth save for Tyanna and Alys’ sisters. 

From there Tyanna whispered more and more into the ear of the King till eventually her whispers turned Maegor on Alys. YN was seven months pregnant when Alys and her whole family were murdered. YN knew it was the work of the witch, and forbade Maegor’s wife from her birthing chamber and from her children. Though Tyanna never betrayed any feeling of jealousy or anger at the woman. 

When YN gave birth to two twin boys, she had to remain on bedrest which separated Maegor from his wife whom he began to cherish more than any of his others. Tyanna saw this as her move. Her chance to remove another obstacle in her way. When Maegor was alone in his room she struck.

“My lord.” She was slippery with her words. Coming up behind him as he stared at the fire. 

“Speak.” He was tired and didn’t want more whispers in his ears. 

“I have unfortunate information. In regards to your dear wife, YN.” Tyanna trailed her fingertips over his shoulders. 

Maegor grunted but made no move to shove her away. So Tyanna continued and placed her cold hand to the back of his neck, fingernails lightly scraping the soft flesh. 

“My lord. She is unfaithful. She has given her body to others. I fear your two new children are not yours-” What she was going to say she could not finish as Maegor had turned suddenly and wrapped his rough hand around her throat squeezing tightly. 

“You snake. You witch. Do you take me for a fool?” Maegor spat. 

“My lord.” 

“I know every move she makes. I watch her constantly.” Maegor brought his lips to her ear. “As I watch you. I see your jealous eyes. I see your scheming steps.”

“Have I not proven one of your wives to be a treacherous woman? I gave you the Harroway girl.” Tyanna choked. 

“You step high above your station if you think I will be easily swayed against her. I know her every move, and I can have your black tongue severed for your slander against her.” Maegor snarled and threw the woman to the ground. Landing a swift and hard kick to her stomach. “Be grateful I let you live. But should you speak against her again, I will have your tongue for that.”

Tyanna showed no weakness. She merely stood up and walked out of the room. Clearly Maegor favored his Tyrell wife dearly and would not be turned against her. No matter, she would weave her web around Maegor till he choked. 

Maegor left his room and went into his children’s chambers. He knew with absolute certainty that his favorite wife would never turn to others. She was too frightened of him to do that. He held his rose within a tight overbearing grip.

[lordsovorn]

Time for a pinned post update!

Hi there!

🌕 I'm a non-binary Ukrainian pixelartist, fascinated by the darkness, the beauty in the horrible, and the contrasts of life ✨

More info under the cut:

(commissions, hashtags, etc.)

Links:

🕯️ All my art is first posted on Patreon (as well as bonus content like timelapses and workflow comments) ✨

💙 You can also find me on Bluesky and Cara at @/lordsovorn, same as here

Commissions:

🎨 I might not be immediately available (that is, I may put your request in queue for a week or two), but I'm long-term open for personal and commercial pixelart commissions. You can contact me here, on other social media or via email: ourclaritythemoon@gmail.com

More info in this commission info post, with payments methods and additional details. If you have any questions, feel free to ask!

Things I make:

💀 A good chunk of my drawings have lore to them, and in particular I'm illustrating (and writing) a lot about a setting of my own called Under - a sprawling mysterious underworld, shrouded in darkness and superstition, where the last remnants of humanity are slowly being digested into nothingness.

You can look through it all at #secrets of the under

🎴 Over the years I've also been illustrating a custom deck of tarot-like cards - and here are some of my favorites:

About halfway finished at the time of writing :)

Usually tagged #tarot like cards

For the last two years I would do a free new-year-fortune-reading with them - we'll see about this one, it's getting more energy-intensive with each new suit added.

🕯️ I'd hesitate to call myself a gamedev, but I've been playing around with various projects for a while, and you can sure expect that there will be gamedev stuff in the future :)

On my Patreon you can see archived updates and concept art for a Game With A Lot Of Candles In It (on hiatus at the moment)

I reblog a lot, so be warned :)

My taste in art and cool science facts is immaculate though. I like horror, dissecting the stories I love (whether in games, shows, books or comics), history and bugs 🐙

There's a hashtag specifically for my art - #Lord Diana art

If I'm posting something related to a fandom, it's usually tagged - here's a reminder that you can mute tags.

Reblogs of my own things are tagged #reblog or #night reblog. If there's any tag you'd like me to use, feel free to respectfully let me know :)

What else?

🚫 r*ssians are not welcome here, as well all the varieties of bigots I won't even bother recounting. Fuck AI, fuck NFT, fuck m*sk ✌️

I hope this to be a friendly and accepting space 💜🤍🖤

And a serious one at that too - all life is political, after all.

///

With that said, I hope you enjoy your stay in my corner of the internet ✨🖤✨

P. S. My asks are open, and questions about lore are ALWAYS welcome

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as violence, blood, mentions of cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your suspicions lead to a discovery you'll never forget. (Part of the Illuminate AU)

Characters: James Conrad

Note: This is our last installment for October. I had a lot of fun with this and I hope you did too. Let me know what you think about me possibly opening drabble reqs/imagines as little continuations of these fics.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

“Be careful,” you gird as James grabs his suitcase, his black wool coat buttoned up under his grey scarf, “the roads are awful. Are you sure you can’t delay?”

You cross your arms and shiver as the frigid winter seeps in around the front door behind him. He gives a mournful shake of his head. He looks gaunt and ashen, a feat for someone with his bone structure. He makes himself smile and steps towards you, cradling the back of your head as he draws you close to kiss your forehead.

You close your eyes and tilt your head up, claiming a kiss on the mouth too. He pulls you close, embracing you tightly. You feel him tense before he lets you go. Your anxiety heightens as you retract and look him up and down.

It isn’t unusual for him to travel for work, you knew that when accepted the job, and you can’t complain for the profit of his efforts. Yet, the last few times, you’ve had this uneasy feeling. A little voice that keeps whispering to you that something is amiss. There’s something you’re not being told.

“I will,” he avows, “love you.”

“Love you too,” you echo on impulse. You mean it but that doubt nips inside of you. 

“I’ll call…” he says, “please, don’t worry too much about me.”

“I always worry,” now that is true.

“Stay in tonight,” he says as he tucks his gloves into his pocket and hooks his finger through his keys, “it’s cold.”

“Trust me, I won’t be out,” you scoff, “bye babe.”

“Bye,” he says reticently, unable to restrain a twiddle in his fingers.

He faces the door and lets himself out. You follow behind him as he pulls the door shut and you push on it to make sure it catches. You hover your hand on the lock and watch him through the slender pane of glass set into the door. He looks back as he gets to the car, raising his hand in a half-hearted wave.

He could cancel, couldn’t he? Say the weather was too much, the roads icy. He should be able to and he hardly seems eager to go. Or perhaps, only guilty…

You can’t wait another month for your answer. You back away from the door without locking it and take out your phone. You pull up the app and see the little dot in your driveway, backing out slowly. You shouldn’t have done it, you shouldn’t have slipped the tag in his bag, but you know you won’t sleep either way.

You’ll wait ten minutes before you leave. You slide open the closet and pull out your jacket and boots. You’ll have to keep your distance, try not to catch up. If he gets to the interstate, you’ll turn back. You’ll know then if he’s lying or not.

🌕

The sky darkens quickly. With your headlights off, it's even more umbrous. A full moon is expected and would help illuminate the road if it even deigns to emerge from behind the clouds.

You follow the dot on your phone, driving slowly to keep a safe distance, to not be seen. Your husband's care turns away from the interstate and your dread mounts. He doesn't head for the country roads either.

It's only as you take the next turn and hit gravel that you realise exactly where you are. You're headed into the industrial district. What a choice for a hookup. You're convinced now.

You dim the screen of your phone as the dot of the airtag blinks closer and closer in the app. You steer slowly over the stony lot past one of the block factories and past an inactive smokestack. You stop just as you spot the idling tail lights of James’ car.

You shut off your engine and watch as he does the same. You watch him through the darkness, the pillow clouds of the winter’s night casting him in ominous shadows. He gets out, his tall silhouette slightly hunched as he nearly staggers forward. He shakes his head as if he’s dizzy.

He nears the large building before him, soft light radiating around the crack of the large metal door. You note that he doesn’t bring his bag from the back seat. You already know this isn’t business, but that’s all the proof you need to sink into your despair.

You watch as the tall metal door slides back from within and he dips his head as he’s greeted by another figure within. You see only her outline. Her. You shudder and tear your gaze away, staring at the stone on your finger. You hear the heavy shift of the door as it rolls shut, clanging as it’s locked from the other side.

Fuck. What now? You know what he’s been up to but you don’t have a plan beyond that. Do you drive home and cry into a glass of wine? Do you get out and confront him? Tell him not to come back.

Suddenly, the world brightens around you as the layers of clouds recede and reveal the full face of the moon. The silver light beams down and shines on James’ car and the front of the dingy white industrial building.

Your eyes sting as you find yourself paralysed. Go back or forward. You don’t know what way to go.

A starling growl rips through the whistling wind and jars you. You look around, horrified by the noise, something eerie you can’t place. A wolf? Around here? You grip the wheel tight as your eyes return to the dented facade of the abandoned factory.

Your inaction, your indecision holds you there. Deep down, you didn’t want to believe. You couldn’t. You love James so much that maybe you can get through this.

Your hopeless thoughts are interrupted by the sudden shatter of glass. Shocked, you look up to the rain of shards as they fall from the second story of the building. A dark shape plummets from the height and heaps onto the ground, twitching. Oh god, it can’t be!

You lean forward, trying to see if the figure is still moving. Is it a person? Is it him? That fear submerges you and cuts through your hurt and anger. You get out without another doubt, leaving the car door open and you race towards the puffing body on the ground.

As you near, you slow, stopping just a few feet away as you realise it can’t possibly be your husband. It isn’t even human. The… creature raises its head, sniffing with its long snout as it bears its teeth with a ravenous snarl. Its silver eyes meet yours as you stumble back in terror.

What is that?

You shriek as it plants its feet and rises. You step backwards, twisting on your heel as you hurl yourself back towards your car. You run without looking back, hearing that thing pursuing you with its gritty breaths and crashing paws. No, no, no!

You pant as your shoulder hits the door of your car. You barely keep it from closing full and pull it back. As you do, you feel a fiery rip through your flesh, right down the back of your leg, ripping through your muscle. You kick back and launch yourself into the front seat.

You turn and pull the door shut, catching the wolfish monster’s head between it and the metal frame. You cling to the door as it snaps its jaw at you, growling and slobbering your leg throbs hotly. You shift the door and inch and pull it shut, slamming it against the beast's neck. It yelps and as it recoils and you let up enough for it to reel back in the dirt.

You quickly lock the doors and the windows and face the wheel. Your leg is almost impossible to control as it shakes, slick with blood as it seeps through your jeans. You’re dizzy as you feel your strength draining fast. 

You won’t make it far if you don’t stem the flow. Fast! The beast hops onto your hood, its claws denting it as it hammers on the metal. You take your scarf from around your neck and tie it above your knee, tight, then tear away the dangling patch of your jeans to wrap the gash down your calf. 

You shake as you sit back and turn the keys in the slot. You feel the fire radiating up your thigh, like your veins are filling with acid. The creature bends back the corner of your hood and the rumble of your engine dies as it buries its dagger-like claws into it. Fuck!

The monster turns its silver irises back on you, breath puffing as it watches you through the windshield. It spins and raises its paws, bringing them down on the glass, sending a spider web of cracks through it. It rears back again but before it can bring down the shattering hit, a blur swipes it off the front of the car.

You hear snarling and snapping. You squint as the edges of your vision blur. You’re losing too much blood. You can feel the world fading from you.

You glance over as another lupine creature tangles with the first. They’re fighting, rolling in the dirt and snow, thrashing and biting. Your head lolls back against the seat and your gaze wanders over to the building as you resign yourself to the weakness dragging your eyelids down.

In your final moments, worry bubbles over and pangs in your chest. That beast. James was inside, had it hurt him too? Is he still alive?

🌕

The world pulses around you, just on the other side of your unconscious. Blustering gales pound against metal, sweeping through and glossing over your raw cheeks. The rest of you is enshrined in ice, the dull hum of hot air blowing from something electric. 

Your nose is dry and your lips are crackly, your body bound in achy knots. Your leg is emblazoned in fire as you quake, the frigid cold invading your very person. You cling to the blanket cocooned around you, groaning as your eyelids slowly lift.

There’s something musty in the air, a smell that makes your stomach churn. And your dry tongue is stained with the residue of something vile, metallic and visceral. You swallow and cough, rattling as you’re certain the pungent scent of blood is your own. 

Visions of your wolfish attacker return to you and have you whining. Is this death? Purgatory perhaps. The high ceilings and iron rafters watching over you, a moon wrought in similar material hanging at one end of large space, with hands that tick like a clock, the words waxing and waning twisted on each side of the frame.

You cough again, a hoarse deep crackle that catches in your throat. You hear something, the soft clang of metal under rubber, soles nearing you as a shadow looms along your peripheral. A hush that hisses before a stolid heat spreads across your forehead.

“Shhhhh, honey,” James’ voice comforts you as it drawls like syrup, “don’t move, alright?”

He comes around the other side of the couch you lay on, his features narrowing in and out of focus. He drags close a chair and sits near you, taking your hand in his, doting on it as he kisses your knuckles. He tilts his head to press his brow to your fingers, as if praying.

“I’m sorry,” he utters, “I tried…”

“James,” you croak, “what…”

“I think… I don't think I was too late,” he doesn’t raise his head, “but I don’t know if it was the right thing.”

“Please,” you rasp.

“The moon wasn’t gone yet, it wasn’t…” He murmurs, “I wasn’t too late…”

You don’t understand his ramblings. He rocks as he clings to your hands, raising his head as his eyes glisten. He watches you, terrified and ashen. He leans in and stands slightly to place a kiss on your forehead.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he cradles your cheek, “this is what I never wanted…”

“You…” you close your eyes and remember, “lied?”

“I had to,” he says, “to protect you. To try– if you knew what I am–” he stops himself. He shifts, the chair legs scraping, and you feel the blanket tug up your legs. You shiver as he moves your legs. He unwraps it from the fabric rolled around it. He lets his thumb trace up the scabbed skin and lets out another shaky breath, “it worked…”

“What is going on?” You hiss and snap your eyes open, whimpering as you try to rip your leg away from his touch.

“Oh, no,” he pulls back and puts his head in his hands, “oh, sweetheart, I don’t know… I never wanted you to hate me–”

You wince as metal rumbles, clattering loudly behind him, revealing a grey winter morning and letting in a virulent gust. James stands, nearly toppling the chair, and faces the new arrival. He squares his shoulder, a formidable man even without his posturing.

“You!” He snarls, “shut the damn door!”

“Huh?” The female responds with a grunt, “good morning to you too–”

“You fucking idiot!” He storms towards her just as she slides the door shut, the echo of it hitting the frame rattles you. And his timbre. You've never heard him so angry, or even speak like that. “You— You—”

You see the woman, a blond much shorter than him, but unintimidated by his advance. Her blonde hair is tinged scarlet at the ends, something red caked down her chest, shamelessly peeking out from beneath her shredded attire. She puts her hands on her hips as she faces him boldly.

“What?” She challenges, eyes wandering to you, “oh… who’s this, Conrad?”

He sneers and steps into her line of sight, “my wife. Who you scratched–”

“I… I did?” She scoffs.

“Fuck off, Yelena,” he shoves her, “don’t play fucking stupid with me.”

“Oh, you want to be a bitch?” She retorts, “what happened to pack rules. We don’t touch each other.”

“You were going to kill her–” Your head spins at their conversation. What are they talking about?

“She shouldn’t have been here!”

You hug the blanket as your teeth chatter. Kill you? Flashes of dark fur, the grind of bending metal, the hiss of the engine as it dies, and the beastly silver eyes. No, it can’t be.

“What are you?” You whisper.

Their argument quiets and the both turn to you, faces shadowed with guilt. The woman, Yelena, he called her, glances at him from the corner of her eyes. His shoulders drop and he hangs his head.

“She is still alive,” she comments. “Maybe I didn’t cut very deep.”

“Deep enough,” he shakes his head, “I had to…” he can’t finish the sentence. She frowns and pats his back, “you saved her life. You did what you had to and…” she smirks, “it isn’t so bad.”

“Speak for yourself,” he growls and shrugs her off.

He crosses to you again and resumes his seat. You watch him, speechless with confusing. You put your hands to the stiff cushion under you and push yourself up. You grunt at the effort it takes and your eyes find the ripple gash along the back of your leg. You stare at the crackly brown scabbing.

“How long…” you wonder.

“Ten hours. Look, I’ll explain but–”

Ten hours. A cute that serious couldn't heal that quickly. That's impossible.

The large door rolls open again. He cringes and his forehead lines with frustration at the interruption. You strain to see past him as a couple enters, the man striding nonchalantly, buck naked as a woman follows wrapped in a plaid blanket. She’s disheveled as he brazenly taps her ass, urging her ahead of him before he slides the door shut with an effortless nudge. 

“Of course, Jesus,” James looks back over his shoulder, “Kraven, put something on. The fuck. What happened to not drawing attention?”

“Mm, it’s nice out,” the other man, Kraven grins, curling his arm around the woman who seems less than comforted by his embrace. She looks exhausted. “Oh, and who is this? So worried for me bringing back stragglers?”

James rolls his eyes and looks back to you. He’s quiet as he gives you a helpless expression. He stands and leans over you, keeping his voice low, “I’ll explain when it’s not chaos.”

He tries to press a kiss to your forehead but you turn your head so he can only peck your temple. Explain what? Who are these people? Where is she? The woman who must’ve drawn him into all this.

James crosses the room and snatches up another blanket, throwing it at the naked man. “A bit of decency.”

“Hey, this is my home,” Kraven snips.

The woman grabs the blanket as it drapes from his shoulder and she puts it around his waist, knotting it at the top. He lets her, unbothered entirely. He bends his head side to side, cracking the tension from it.

“Where’s the fucking coffee?”

“Language,” James warns as he looms before you.

“Kettle’s boiling,” an unfamiliar voice squeaks and another woman appears from the edge of the room. You have no idea where she came from. 

Your head is pounding from the building wall of sounds around you. You hear the kettles now, heating up slowly, and the blasting blow of the electric heater, the wailing winds, the pulsing of heartbeats all around you. You cover your ears and cry out, “be quiet!”

“Ah, I see, a new friend,” Kraven muses.

“His wife,” Yelena explains.

“Another?” The quiet woman who drifts like a ghost adds.

“What happened to not shitting where you eat?” Yelena snips, “am I the only one who doesn’t bring their scraps home?”

“What scraps?” A voice comes from above and you peer up at a dark-haired man watching from the second level.

“Ah, don’t start, thrall-fucker,” Yelena sneers up at the man. The woman who stands near the shaking kettle looks away guiltily as the couple wrapped in blankets peek at her. Yelena chuckles, “oh, you didn’t know?”

“Quietttttttt,” another voice adds to the chaos as a tall blonde man appears at the top of the stairs, “she is sleeping.”

“Mm, and his precious little doll,” Yelena mumbles as she blows a raspberry. “When did you all get so goddamn cheesy?”

The kettle suddenly whistles, carving a cavern in your skull. You cover your ears and writhes, screaming again. Everything needs to stop!

“Enough!” James hollers, “Belova, Kemp, Kraven, Warlock, here. The rest, go!”

The room stills. The exchanges of looks, some amused, others skeptical, a few frightened. The woman in the blanket moves first as the man taps her arm, then the woman near the kettle follows her up the stairs as the tall blond descends past them and the dark-haired man above makes his way down without urgency.

Several doors above close as you look at those who remain. Yelena, that man Kraven, and the two other men. James turns to you, “Yelena, make my wife a coffee as I sort this out.”

“Is she dying?” The dark-haired man in wooly sweater asks. The other smells the air and his narrow eyes focus on you.

“She’s turning,” the blond declares.

“She is my wife,” James puts his hand up, “alright, so let me goddamn explain this to her.”

A few shrugs but no real response. Yelena pours the water that sounds like a tidal wave to you. James stands behind the armchair as he watches you.

“Look, this isn’t easy so I will be entirely clear. That… wolf you saw last night was Yelena, that woman there. And the other, if you recall, that…” his throat bobs, “was me. And these others, Kraven,” he gestures to the bare-chested man, “Adam,” the tall blond, “and Steve,” the man with the dark swoop of hair, “are the same. All cursed. Like me and now, you.”

“What–”

“I had to… you would die if I didn’t–”

You look at the ceiling, searching as your heart flutters. You don’t understand. It’s somehow not as bad yet worse than what you feared. He’s not cheating but he lied to you all the same. And now… if he had just told you, you wouldn’t have come. But would you have believed him?

Your eyes fall upon the metal-moon hung on the wall, the long arms marking the phases of the moon. Last night was a full moon…

“You’re…”

“A monster,” James confirms, “I’m very sorry. I couldn’t tell you. Maybe I should’ve tried…” he sighs and sits again, taking your hand, “I won’t ask forgiveness, it is entirely selfish to put this on you, but you will not be alone. Or judged. We only do what we must to survive.”

“What you must… you…”

“There are simple rules. When the moon is full, you’ll change. You can’t stop it but you must heed it. If you do not feed by sunrise,” he pauses and takes a breath. Yelena approaches with a mug and you take it dumbly, unsure what else to do, “then you die. It’s us or them.”

Your eyes gloss and you shake your head. What does that mean? You know, but…

“Last night…” you eke out.

“It wasn’t much,” he squeezes your free hand, “enough to keep you alive. With me.” 

He has the sense to look mortified. You wiggle your hand free and turn your head. You can’t look at him. It’s not just what he’s done to you, but the thought of what he’s done to others, and what he’ll continue to do. What he wants you to do. What you have to do.

You swallow and stare at the black depths of your coffee. You feel your audience watching you. These beasts.

“I want to go home,” you murmur.

“Alright, I’ll take you…” he agrees softly.

“Now,” you demand, “away from these monsters.”

“Ha, you’re one of us–” Kraven begins.

“Shut up,” Adam barks at him, “James, we understand. Take her home. You are always welcome for the moon.”

“Wow, dinner and a show,” Steve snickers, “pretty good night if you ask me.”

Their casual attitudes are callous in your ears. Is this what you’ll become? Apathetic? Inhuman?

Last night, you were ready to do anything to keep your husband. You were even going to forgive him for straying from your marriage. But this, you don’t know if you can ever get past this.

[mouseycometz]

(Art by wing-locked)

I’m an adult, female self-shipper who’s eagerly sharing content through writing and more!

DISCLAIMER: All the art that I post are not made by me! I give credits and links to the artists in the captions of the post!

Ship Tags

TFP - Starscream x Juniper: #🐭 scared of the dark 🕊️

TFA - Starscream x Willa: #✨ seeing stars 💫

TFE - Starscream x Piper: #✈️ unpack your heart 🪶

TFA - Prowl x Terra: #🌹someone to you 🍃

TFIDW - Fortress Maximus x Robin: #🦋 tbd 🌗

PatB - Pinky and Brain x Maisy: #🐁 kaleidoscope 🌎

BLoSC - NOS-4-A2 x Aster: #🌕 tainted love ⚡️

BLoSC - XR x Aster: #🤖 tbd ☄️

TFRB - Heatwave x Billie: #☀️ tbd 💢

TF One - Starscream x Penny: #🌌 resonance 🌃

TFIDW - Starscream x Selene: 🌠 dream a little dream of me 🌙

TF Armada - Starscream x Celeste: #🌼 strange sight ⭐️

G1 - Starscream x Melanie: #🎤 digital affection 🌟

Cuphead - Devil x Bluebird: 😈 tbd 😇

AU Ship Tags

TFRiD15 - Starscream x Juniper: #💔 silence ❤️‍🩹

Merformers! TFP - Starscream x Juniper: 🌅 island in the sun 🏝️

Dino! TFP - Predaking + Juniper + Starscream: #🦖 ends of the earth 🌺

Vampire! TFP Starscream (Skylar) x Juniper: #🦇 fly for your life 🩸

Fics

Books and Bats (TFP Vampformers! Starscream/Juniper)

King and Queen of the Skies (TFP Starscream/Juniper)

Deep Sea Meet Cute (Knightverse Bumblebee/Charlie)

A Blooming Valentine's Day (Armada Starscream/Celeste)

Fics for Pals

Ocean Wonders (TFP Ratchet/Kaiju)

The Sky's the Limit (TFP Starscream)

Midnight Sparks (TFP Ratchet/Cori)

Melodies (TFP Megatron)

Flight Repairs (TFP Ratchet/Concorde)

Define Dancing (TFP Ratchet/Concorde)

[red-tea-lover]

🍄🍁 Night Trader from Darkwood🍁🍄

Ну, тут мне сказать нечего. Я могу часами рассказывать почему этот персонаж хорош и потратить часы жизни для написания фанфика лишь бы чел выжил. И да стимборды вернулись) Наполнение классическое и сосмыслом типа. Ключи, грибочки и ночь или в целом тёмная зелень ибо вайб игры или предметы у персонажа, ну а остальное баланса ради.

Well, I have nothing to say here. I can spend hours telling why this character is good and spend hours of my life writing a fanfic just so the guy survives. And yes, stimboards are back) The content is classic, like keys, mushrooms and night or dark green in general because of the game's vibe or the character's items, and the rest is for balance.

🍄|✏️|🌕

🍂|🩶|🌼

🌾|🕯|🗝

[sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts]

My Kinktober requests are officially open!

Accepted Fandoms:

You can request from the following fandoms (or any specific characters within them):

Criminal Minds

The Last of Us

Gladiator 2

Slashers (Please note: I'll be writing for general character archetypes, like Ghostface, rather than specific versions from particular films)

Pedro Pascal (Any of his characters are welcome)

Måneskin

How to Request:

Simply send an ask to my inbox under Ask Away and include the details of what you’d like to see!

What Can You Request?

Smut is preferred, but I’m open to anything—whether it’s fluff, angst, or something darker. I only write F/M or F/F pairings, but threesomes or group scenarios are allowed. However, I won’t write explicit M/M content.

Important Note: I don’t write for things that aren’t human (like werewolves in full wolf form) or include body fluids such as piss or poop.

Feel free to include one or more of the following emojis in your request to indicate specific themes or tones you'd like to see:

🕊️ Dead Dove/Do Not Eat (Dark Level A Million): We’re going all-in—non-con, murder, gore, and the messiest, most explicit stuff you can imagine. This one’s not for the faint of heart.

🖤 Dark Level 1: Just a sprinkle of fear. Maybe they’re dressing up as Jason Voorhees, and you’re getting down and dirty while there’s a knife on the table.

😈 Dark Level 2: Dub-con vibes—someone’s asleep, someone’s stalking, and there’s some serious setup behind the scenes. It’s edgy, but it’s hot.

⛓️ Chains: It’s all about bondage and toys. You’re tied up, maybe gagged, and they’re playing with all the good stuff.

😡 Meanie: You’re gonna hear it—degradation at its finest. You’ll be told exactly what a mess you are, and you’ll like it.

💕 Softly: They’re whispering sweet nothings while tearing you apart—praise is thrown in there, soft and sexy, to keep things warm.

🩹 Bandaid: All the rough stuff, but they’ll patch you up after. You’re getting the aftercare you deserve.

🎥 Film: There’s a camera rolling, or maybe it’s mirrors all around. Either way, you’re watching, and they’re putting on a show.

🕸️ Spiderweb: You’re caught in their trap, and there’s no getting out. Power plays, manipulation, the works—you’re stuck, and it’s thrilling.

🎃 Pumpkin Spice: Sweet with just the right amount of spice. It’s cozy, but you know it’s going to get hotter with all that teasing.

💀 Skull & Bones: You want rough? You’ll get rough. It’s primal, dirty, and no one’s holding back. Think teeth, nails, and animal instincts.

🌕 Full Moon: Full-on beast mode. They’re losing control, and you’re gonna feel every bit of that wild energy—think wolves in heat.

🩸 Blood Drops: Blood play, baby. It’s messy, it’s hot, and the sight of red just makes it all the more intense.

🔪 Blade's Edge: Life or death, baby. Whether there’s a real threat or just the feeling of one, it’s dangerous, thrilling, and sharp as a knife.

Note: All requests will be drabbles unless I feel they deserve more depth, in which case they may be expanded. These will be released alongside my other Kinktober posts, with the exact release dates to be determined.

Send your requests and get ready for some spooky, steamy fun! (Follow the tag #🍿sinfulkinktober to follow along with all kinktober updates and fics)

{@multiversed-daydreamer @gothcsz I told you guys something was coming 😘 yes there's more....}

[ikeprinces-stuff]

[𝐁𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐰]

Male OC x Reader [OC: Vernard Mürrisch(?)]

Starlight Prompt : Full moon 🌕

~ Fluff

Words : 480

I seem to like writing about my OC more ahaha...my bad 😅😅😅

Hosted by : @violettduchess & @lorei-writes

Content warning : none

Under the cloak of night, the full moon bathed the kingdom of roses in a soft, silver glow. Prince Vernard Mürrisch, a man known for his calm and balanced demeanor, stood atop the balcony of the palace, his piercing jade eyes locked onto the celestial body in the sky. His white hair, reminiscent of the fur of a white lynx, gleamed in the moonlight, adding to his aura of mystery and intrigue.

I had been tasked with choosing the next king for our beloved Rhodolite. But little did I know that the decision would be more complex than I had initially thought. For Prince Vernard, the full moon seemed to hold a special significance, something that I couldn't quite put my finger on. "Why do you always watch the moon in full, Verny?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper as to not disturb the silence of the night. The prince turned to me, a soft smile playing on his lips. "It's a personal matter," he replied, his voice smooth and soothing like the gentle waves of the ocean. "Let's just say that the full moon calls out to me, and I am compelled to answer its call." I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease as I looked into his eyes, which seemed to hold a world of secrets. I had heard whispers of his obsession with protecting people, of how he called himself their guardian. But what did the full moon have to do with any of that? "The moon represents change," Vernard said, as if sensing my thoughts. "It's a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there's always light to be found. And as a guardian, I believe it's my duty to be that light for those in need." His words resonated within me, speaking to my guarded heart and reminding me of the importance of hope in the face of adversity. And as I watched the full moon with Prince Vernard by my side, I couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and understanding. For it was in that moment that I realized that being a guardian, a protector, wasn't just about physical strength or power, but about being a beacon of light in a world shrouded in darkness. "Thank you," Vernard said, his voice filled with gratitude and warmth. "For choosing me to be your guardian. I promise to uphold the trust you have placed in me." And with that, we turned our gaze back to the moon, as it disappeared behind the clouds, leaving us with nothing but the starlight to guide us on our journey. But even in the darkness, we knew that we were not alone. For the full moon had left its mark on us, a reminder that change was always possible, and that light would always triumph over darkness.

[chikaras-garden]

most yandere damian x reader stories are always the reader being a civilian who usually has no way of fighting damian but i wonder how damian would deal with a superhero reader who is way stronger than him.

He would prefer that!

tw dubcon, yandere

“Stop fighting me,” Damian growls in your ear. He has you stripped bare—though to be fair, he’s stripped too—and his hand is around your throat. Your back is tightly pressed against his chest, and he doesn’t even allow you an inch to move. If only your hands were free, not tied behind your back, not bound with silk-soft rope that he had designed just for you.

You’re his princess. He’ll never hurt you; he just wants you safe, even from yourself and your powers. It’s only for your own good.

“You have seven weaknesses,” he points out, breathing heavily while his fingers glide into and out of your messy, dripping folds. “Being bound. Staying awake too long. Three fingers inside you. Should I go on?”

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to force your weight back, to knock him off balance, but he swiftly shifts positions to drape a thing on top of yours—pinning you down in a low, reverent kneel.

“Tired baby,” he coos, kissing down your throat. Your eyes flutter with a strange mix of pleasure and exhaustion; he’s kept you awake in his bedchamber for days, always visiting you and doing this whenever you think you’re about to fall asleep. Feeling boneless, your head rolls back to rest against his shoulder, and his chest rumbles with a chuckle.

“See? My princess likes it when she gives in,” he whispers as he slips his fingers out of your cunt. You know what’s next—it’s always the same, always his throbbing, veiny cock—and you softly moan. “No more thoughts. Allow me to care for you.”

[sjsmith56]

The Fae Elements, Part 6 - Of Love and Loss

Summary: While still in mourning Buck and Sage get married, then undertake the Solstice ritual to install her fae powers. Just before the final part of the ritual, disaster strikes.

Length: 8.2 K

Characters: Buck, Sage, Hope, Thor, Sam, Steve, Maria.

Warnings: Grief, guilt, mild sexual content, violence causing extreme injury, violence causing death.

Author notes: AI images were created by the author using Microsoft Copilot app in Designer mode. This is a long one, but it covers a lot of territory. I hope you liked this version of a fae world that co-exists alongside the modern one. Bucky with wings is 🔥. The pagan wedding vows have been taken from the website my wedding vows.com. They were slightly amended to use the term Creator instead of God, since pagans didn't worship one god.

<<Part 5

🌳 ⛰️ 🌊 🌕

Buck left the bed during the night, awakening me as he pulled himself out of my arms. I held onto his hand for several long moments, while he hesitated at the side of the bed.

"Don't go," I whispered. "Let me help you."

"I won't be long," he answered. "There's something I must do, and I can't rest anymore until I do it."

He left out of a door that seemed to lead to a terrace. By the time I got to the window he disappeared. I wanted to tell someone then I heard Hope's voice in my mind.

"It's alright, my brothers are with him," she said. "They go to comfort Richard's family. Meet me in the library if you don't want to be alone. The way will be shown to you."

I was still dressed from the previous night, but the clothes felt rumpled and uncomfortable, so I changed into a robe-like dress, then combed my hair and left the room. The way to the library was lit with a blue glow and I opened the door to where Hope sat in front of the fireplace. She smiled at me as I approached, reaching over and squeezing my hand as I sat next to her.

"I'm glad you were with him," she said kindly. "Mortals who write about the fae world think we don't care about our children like they do, but we feel just as deeply for them, worrying about their welfare, and hope we're raising them to be strong individuals, whether fae or mortal. Richard was a wonderful man, married with four children and eight grandchildren, one of them pregnant with his first great grandchild. He was a teacher, but in his retirement, he volunteered for a home building charity, sharing his love of carpentry that my father shared with him. His death will impact many people."

"I'm sorry. It seems like you all loved him very much."

I felt a wetness on my cheek and wiped it away.

"It's not your fault," said Hope. "You're not to blame for his death. They would have found a way no matter what. That they chose Richard was meant to weaken my father. He's been a strong king who has been incorruptible though they have tried." She smiled sadly at me. "The battle between the light and dark is elemental in itself. The universe was cloaked in darkness until the light exploded into existence billions of years ago. It is an eternal struggle to maintain the balance."

It didn't make me feel any less guilty for being enough of a distraction that Buck's attention was diverted away from his mortal son. Hope talked with me for some time, until I must have fallen asleep in the library, for I found myself waking up in the bed again, with Buck spooned behind me. The curtains were drawn so that we were in darkness, but it was obvious by the sunlight bleeding through the cracks in the curtains that it was the middle of the day. Carefully, I turned so that I faced him. His face looked so peaceful in the dimness of the room, but a small crease was still evident between his eyebrows, proof of the burden he carried, even in his sleep. A sudden urge to kiss that crease in the hopes of smoothing it away overcame me and I pressed my lips onto it. When I pulled away a smile was on his lips.

"A valiant attempt," he murmured. "Daere tried many times to remove that in the same manner. She called it my worry mark."

"I'm sorry I woke you. I feel so helpless. Thought a kiss would help."

"It does, more than you know." His eyes opened, tired but still bright, searching my face for a moment. "It doesn't seem fair that our marriage will be preceded by the murder of my son, but the Dark Overlord planned it that way. He uses terror and grief as a weapon, not realizing that for some people it is a crucible that makes them stronger."

"His family?"

"Will be taken care of," said Buck. "They will want for nothing, except the presence of their husband, father and grandfather." He stroked my hair. "I felt him die, while you were gathering food. Then you called for help, and I knew they had done it to gain access to the sanctuary. Even for a dark fae, it was a heinous act, for mortal family members are supposed to be safe from harm, by an agreement made in the days of the first fae king. The Dark Overlord has made it clear he has no regard for any of the laws that govern our kind. It means war between us. Only my remaining sons and I will attend Richard's funeral in two days time, as Hope has committed to staying for your protection. Many light fae are being recalled here to protect you."

"I'm not worth it," I answered, not feeling like I was compared to those he had sworn to protect when he became fae king.

"Of course, you are. You are a part of the sacred tree. Fae from other domains, the cold places, the ocean, the mountains, even from the hot lands, are sending help, for you are a descendant of the oldest fae family, the one that civilized us and made us more than tiny beings of mischief."

He kissed me then and we laid in the dark for a little longer until several thoughts were sent to us, to get up and face the day. After showering together, we dressed and made our way to the dining area, where the big table had been replaced by several small tables, as the big one could only ever seat 13 guests, no less and no more. Buck's other sons, Arthur and John, were there. Almost perfect duplicates of their father, they were both kind to me and I sensed no blame for the death of their younger brother.

The time until the funeral passed quickly, with Buck kissing me goodbye in the morning, promising to return by nightfall. My day was spent learning more of the wedding ceremony and Solstice rituals, as well as committing my vows to memory. There were some sacred words to be said for the "vows" but apparently Buck had asked they be spoken in English for my sake, and the sacred tree had given its blessing. When he returned, I was already in bed, but he slipped under the covers with me, nuzzling into my neck then weeping into my shoulder once more as he mourned his son's death.

The following night I was relocated to another room, where I was treated to a beauty regimen that was definitely magic. After it was done, my hair was shiny, my skin dewy, and there were no signs of any pimples or other blemishes of any kind. My gown, designed to match Bucky's suit was white with gold trim, and fit perfectly, as I tried it on one last time. We were kept apart that night since we had to leave very early from our eastern time zone on the morning of the solstice. We had to be at the sacred tree, which apparently was somewhere in Ireland, four hours ahead in their time zone. It was where the first fae king was crowned, and we had to be there before sunrise, 4:56 am, local time. It was going to literally be a long day for us, on the longest day of the year. At least we would take a portal there, with Loki, Hope, and Sam accompanying me. Steve, Thor and Buck left before us. The rest of the council were already there.

When we arrived at the grove where the sacred tree was located, I was amazed to see all sorts of flowers growing everywhere. Foxglove, daisies, cosmos, and primroses were just a few that I recognized. Their scent was everywhere, but not so much that it felt overwhelming. There was a misty quality to the place, as if a fog wasn't quite dissipated completely. Everything seemed so tranquil and beautiful. A single path led to the altar from where I waited, out of sight. I would walk it alone, just as Buck would wait alone for me, with Thor, as the oldest fae there, acting as the officiant. Our music was the natural sounds of the forest, the birds, the breeze, and the rustle of leaves. My bouquet was made of wildflowers. With a kind smile my three travelling companions left me to take their place. Then a voice in my head, Thor's voice, told me to begin to approach the altar. As I came around the corner from where I had been hidden, I almost gasped at the scene.

The sacred tree, large, gnarled and ancient, with pink tinged flowers appearing on the branches, dominated the space. In front of it, a carved altar made of wood displayed images of both real and mythical creatures of the forest, including one called The Green Man, apparently a masculine symbol of the forest. Buck waited in front of the altar, wearing an incredible suit that was mostly ivory white. Embroidered with an intricate pattern of gold thread it was styled similar to a fine suit from the 1700s. He wore a collarless white shirt underneath that seemed to be made of silk, which made sense as it was a natural fibre. Its sleeves poked out from the cuffs of the suit. On his head, Buck wore a crown of holly, apparently for its relationship to eternity, and the change of the seasons. When I reached where Buck stood, he offered me his hand and helped me up the single step to stand in front of Thor.

"Greetings, friends," he stated. "We are here to witness the sacred joining of our fae king, Buck, born James Barnes, to the mortal woman, Sage, born Sage Hawthorne. Before the vows are stated are there any objections to the union of these two individuals?"

There was no objection and Thor instructed Buck to state the vows. He did so without hesitation. Then it was my turn.

"I, Sage, in the name of the spirit of the Creator that resides within us all, by the life that courses within my blood and the love that resides within my heart, take thee, James, to my hand, my heart, and my spirit, to be my chosen one. To desire thee and be desired by thee, to possess thee, and be possessed by thee, without sin or shame, for naught can exist in the purity of my love for thee. I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again. I shall not seek to change thee in any way. I shall respect thee, thy beliefs, thy people, and thy ways as I respect myself."

Thor asked for the rings, raising his hands to the sky. When he lowered them, the rings were there, both of them plain bands made of silver. He offered the smaller one to Buck, who placed it on my ring finger. Then he offered the larger one to me, to place on my husband's ring finger. Clasping our hands together he spoke in a language I had never heard before. He looked calmly at both of us before speaking.

"May the canopy of the forest shelter you; may you be protected by the hawthorn, the oak and the ash tree, and their shade grant you peace. Your bloodlines are now joined, now and forever. Even if you choose to part there will always be a bond between you, until you find each other again at the end of time. You may seal your bond with a kiss."

Just as Buck's lips touched mine a strong beam of the sun lit us up, making the gold thread in our clothes gleam. I felt a warmth fill me from all around, which apparently was the first moment of transformation as the sacred tree of my ancestor transferred some of its fae power into me. After receiving the well wishes of those who attended we were transported to another site, the base of a mountain. At the top of it was where the first consummation of our marriage would take place, with Buck flying both of us up there. Just before we took off a host of flower petals drifted down upon us, landing in our hair. With a smile I was lifted into Buck's arms, and we flew to where a small group of tall trees at the top of the mountain became visible. Built into the rock face beneath them was a wooden structure, open to the elements, containing a large bed. We landed on a terrace in front of the bed. The sun, although high, wasn't at its highest yet. I stood looking out over the great vista below us.

"This is incredible," I said. "Why aren't we on the tallest mountains?"

"It's not necessary," he replied. "It just has to be open to the sky when the sun is at its highest. We are somewhere in the Balkans by the look of things, and we have time to eat and drink. If you wish."

My ears had been warm since the sun first touched us in Ireland and I ran my fingertips over them. A pointed shape surprised me, making Buck smile.

"Your ears have changed. I must say, they suit you."

Inside the covered part of the structure was a small mirror and I took a look, seeing the change for myself. Accepting a glass of wine from Buck, we toasted our marriage then started to kiss, letting the inevitable joining of our bodies progress from there. By the time the sun was high overhead we were well into the first requirement of the Solstice ritual. It was freeing to make love out in the open like that, with only the sky and the sun as our witness. I felt a lightness in my body, as if I could do almost anything. There was some opportunity after our several couplings to relax as we touched and caressed, then I heard an apologetic voice in my head interrupting us that it was time to go. Obviously, Buck had heard the same voice since he rose from the covers and offered me his hand. Reluctantly, we dressed. While I was putting my dress on Buck alerted me to the presence of small butterfly type wings protruding from my back.

"These will be your true wings although they haven't finished forming yet," stated Buck, gently touching them with his fingertips. "You'll soon learn how to transform them into bird wings strong enough to lift yourself."

Covering me with his own great wings, he held me close as he formed a portal around us. We appeared on a beach, where the air was warm and humid, surrounded by palm trees. Greeted by the council, with cheek kisses and hugs, they seemed pleased at the physical changes to my body, proof of the ritual working. Then Buck offered me his hand and we walked along a wooden dock to where a boat waited. Steve and Sam were at the controls, both of them looking relaxed in the golden light of the sun which was now low in the sky.

"We'll get you within a comfortable flying distance, then return to the beach," said Steve. "At sunrise, we will be waiting for you at the rendezvous point on the boat."

We ate and drank on the ride until they slowed then stopped. We departed from them as Buck took me in his arms for a flight over the ocean. The moon was just peaking over the horizon, providing just enough light to illuminate the calm waters below us. It seemed that Buck knew exactly where to go as a small rocky island became visible in the distance. On it was a platform, with steps leading up to it from the water. A bed and several lit candle lanterns were the only furnishings there.

"You just happen to have this tiny island in the middle of the ocean waiting for us," I commented, a little sarcastically. Buck just grinned.

"The rocky part is real, the last remaining part of a long dead volcano that rose from the ocean in the South Pacific. The bed and lighting are magical. It was part of Steve's job to find this spot, using his contacts with the merpeople to locate it. It had to be isolated, as we draw magic from the ocean with the consummation. A spell will protect us in case a storm comes but as you can see it is a very calm and clear night. The merpeople will patrol below the surface and advise the council if there are any potential intruders. It's important that we're not interrupted." He looked at me with obvious desire. "For more than one reason."

Gracefully, he landed and released me from his arms. I almost wanted to laugh at how otherworldly and weird it all seemed. This tiny island in the middle of the ocean was set up just for us to have sex. As I looked out over the waters, I could hear mournful sounds coming from it. Buck came up behind me, wrapping his arms around me as he rested his chin on mine.

"Is that whale song?" I asked.

"Uh huh." He listened for a moment. "They're giving us their blessing. Come to bed, my beloved."

In the light of the lanterns that were near the bed, he undid the fastenings of my dress, kissing my neck and shoulders as it fell from my body and draped itself over a chair that appeared, my magic asserting itself, according to Buck. His own individual pieces of clothing seemed to unfasten themselves, although I helped remove them. Like my dress they moved of their own accord, finding a place to be. The lights of the lanterns slowly grew dim so that our bodies were lit only by the full moon, low on the horizon, with just a sliver of sky separating it from that viewpoint. Whether it was an optical illusion or was just my imagination, it seemed to be the largest I had ever seen the moon appear. Despite being in the middle of the ocean I felt as warmed by the moon's glow as I ever did by the sun's rays. As we kissed it felt like something extraordinary surrounded us.

"It's beginning," said Buck, stepping back a little as he held my hands.

There was a silvery glow to my skin that seemed to flow from the reflection of the moon in the ocean straight towards me, enveloping me in something enchanted. All of my senses seemed to come alive as we explored each other's bodies like it was the very first time. Every kiss to my skin sent tendrils of pleasure radiating from the contact point. Every caress of my breasts increased my need for Buck to join with me in any way possible. Every roll of his hips as he thrust into me sent me into such a state of joy that I wanted to cry out to the heavens. I imagined this must be like the best psychedelic trip of all time, except I was fully in charge of my faculties, fully aware of where I was and who I was with. Our minds and bodies were joined in such a way that I realized this was the love I had longed for my whole life. This fae man, entwined with me, was my life, as I was his; our connection was physical, emotional, and spiritual all at the same time. After the attainment of our shared climax we laid in each other's arms, spent but not exhausted.

"Is this how it feels to be connected to life?" I asked, as I became aware of all the sea life around us, even the sea anemones and corals that clung to life on the sides of the rocky promontory that extended down to the bottom of the ocean where we were. I could hear and understand the song of the whales that were bolstered by the calls of the merpeople under the gentle swells. "Do you hear and feel this all of the time?"

"Yes," he replied. "It was overwhelming at first but when Daere chose to undergo the process it was so much better to share it with my mate. Just as it's better with you, Sage. You were always meant for this; to be at my side, to be part of the life of this earth."

Gently, Buck wiped tears from my cheek, as I wept with awareness of all that was good and all that threatened the natural world. It was such a responsibility that he had been solely burdened with since Daere died. How he managed to function without a mate to share this commitment with for so long was beyond my comprehension. All I knew for certain was that I was part of it now, freely choosing to do this with my king, my mate, and my love.

Slowly, the moon began its journey back below the horizon, and we were left in darkness until a glow appeared on the surface of the ocean. All sorts of blue, green and white lights appeared at the top of the waters then slowly drifted back down to where they originated. I sat on the bed, entranced by the spectacle, having never seen anything like it before.

"Bioluminescent creatures," said Buck. "They live deep where there is no light but create their own. They come to pay their respects." He stroked my back; his warmth feeling so good on my skin. "We can catch some sleep now until just before sunrise."

His suggestion for sleep was a good one as we had been going for over 24 hours, in several different time zones. Within moments I was gone, calmed into sleep by what I realized was a lullaby being sung by the merpeople. Its haunting beauty was both hypnotic and soothing, sending me into a wonderful dream filled with light and love.

"Sage." The voice was barely audible, like the gentle buzz of a bee in the garden. It was a voice I knew but I strained to hear it. "Sage, listen. There is a way that you can save him. If you give it all up and give him up for how ever long it takes for him to heal, he can live. My beautiful girl. I miss you so much."

I opened my eyes, turning to look at Buck in the pre-dawn light, his eyes closed and his face at peace after all the turmoil of the past few days. That vision I had of him, pale while the light of life left his eyes, was there again at the edge of my consciousness but so were the words that woke me. What did it all mean?

It didn't take long to find the boat waiting for us after we lifted off from the island. Sam and Steve were on it again and offered us food and drink to restore our energies after the long day and night we experienced. It seemed like simple fare, cheeses, fruit, honey and bread but it tasted wonderful, almost as if I could sense all the love and care that went into its preparation. Soon, the boat was pulling up to the dock and we were greeted with warm words and wishes. We had one more stop to make, a return to the sacred tree in Ireland to present ourselves as bonded mates. That encircling of the globe would complete the ritual. As the rest of the council activated their own portals to return there, Sam and Steve secured the boat as Thor waited. Then we returned to Ireland together, landing in a beam of lightning.

It was strange. Although the council had left before us, they were nowhere to be seen in the glade where the sacred tree was. The three fae princes produced their swords as did Buck. Being new to all of this, I wasn't sure what to do but they placed themselves around me and we began to advance towards the tree. We found Hope first, as Buck cried out and kneeled beside her, sprawled amongst some tall sunflowers, although no injury was visually evident.

"She's alive," he said, laying his hands on his daughter. "Hope, wake up."

A moan answered him and then her eyes fluttered open. "Trap," she whispered, then she lapsed back into unconsciousness.

"You should go," said Thor. "There is a feeling of darkness here." He seemed to be searching for his brother telepathically but there was no answer. "Buck, take your bride."

"No, we must finish the ritual to complete the process," he insisted. "She won't be safe otherwise."

Taking my hand in his free hand we approached the sacred tree. With Thor, Steve and Sam covering our backs we kneeled in front of it and Buck recited something in what I assumed was Latin. Just before he finished it, a shadow in the shape of a man materialized out of the air, thrusting a black sword into Buck's chest. It happened so fast that he had no chance to react, other than to push me back, away from danger. The shadow man lifted him up overhead, still impaled on the sword and threw him away from the tree. Instinctively, I thought of my hands as weapons, generating a blue energy from them that caught the shadow man in the chest. He began to thrash, then the shadows fell away to reveal the lawyer of HYDRA Mining, Alexander Pierce.

"NO!"

His face was locked in a grimace as he reached for me, but I sent another pulse towards him, then found my efforts supported as Thor raised his hammer then struck Pierce in the head, separating it from his neck. A cloud of dark energy erupted from the headless body then twisted painfully as my pulse of blue, and Thor's lightning burned through it, until it was gone. I was suddenly exhausted then remembered Buck and scrambled to where he was. Sam and Steve were trying to stem his blood loss but as I hovered over him, I realized this was my vision that had been prickling at the edge of my consciousness. His skin was already pale and the blue light in his eyes was fading. I placed my hands on his cheeks and for a moment they pulsed blue then faded as I had used all of my power destroying Pierce.

"No," I cried. "Don't die. Don't leave me."

"Beloved," gasped Buck. "Amica mea. It's okay. If he's dead, then you are safe. My beloved Sage."

My tears fell on his face as I begged him to stay with me. I looked at the others who stood around, helpless in their grief. Then I remembered the words that were whispered to me.

"I don't want this power, not if I don't have you. Take it, take it all." I raised my eyes to the sky. "Please, save him. I'll give him up, give up all of my magic if you just let him live."

"Sage, if you do this, he can no longer be king." Thor was kneeling beside me. "He can only live as a mortal now as all of his own magic will be needed to heal his wound. Even then there is no guarantee as he was pierced with a dark fae blade."

"I don't care," I cried. "Please, don't let him die. Don't let all that he was be lost."

"No, beloved." Buck's voice was barely a whisper. "Don't do this. You were meant to be queen."

"Not without you." I was certain of this. "Please."

My tears were unstoppable as I laid my head on his shoulder. I could hear the voices of the others then everything went black. When my eyes opened, I was in a dark room. Sitting up, I saw that it was the same room I first stayed in when Buck brought me to the stronghold. It was dark and the almost full moon shone through the window, although it was low in the sky. Before I could leave, someone knocked on the door, then entered and stepped into the moonlight.

"Hope," I said. "Your father ...."

"He will live," she answered. She sat on the edge of the bed. "Your magic is depleted and can never be restored. Neither will you ever have a child with magic."

"I want to see him."

"It's not possible," she answered. "The sacred tree used both your magic and his to treat the injury but there was a price to be paid. He is mortal now, and he has lost his memory. I had enough time to give him something to ground him when he wakes up, but he won't remember who he is or what he was. He is out of our hands now. The sacred tree instructed that he be taken to a mortal place and left there to begin his new life. I don't know where he is. He is unseen to me."

"But what about us?" I asked.

"You offered to give him up and the sacred tree is fae. Your offer was accepted as a fair trade for saving him. If your love is true, you may find each other again, but there are no guarantees. I'm sorry."

Her words hit me like a wave of ice water. He would live but he was lost to me, possibly forever. As I began to cry, Hope held me, stroking my hair and back, then sat with me for the rest of the night as we talked of many things. When the first signs of dawn became visible, she left me to get dressed then escorted me to a terrace where the council waited. All of them who had gone to the sacred tree ahead of us looked ill, as if they were recovering from a terrible illness. Pierce had apparently poisoned them as they appeared there, wanting to isolate Buck and me to attack us without warning. No one suspected that he was the Dark Overlord, since his camouflage as a mortal lawyer had been so successfully portrayed. He apparently didn't believe my strength would be of consequence in standing up to his, expecting to overwhelm me completely and take my powers for his. My counterattack weakened him enough for Thor to slay him. At least his influence would be gone, until the next dark fae became powerful enough to become the Dark Overlord.

After saying goodbye to the council, Steve offered to return me to my apartment, encircling me with his wings and activating a portal. We appeared on the street in front of my building, just before the dawn and he looked around to make sure our arrival wasn't witnessed.

"Will I see you back in the courtroom?" I asked.

"No, Sam and I will be leaving Washington and returning to the stronghold," he replied, kindly. "The sacred tree is set to choose the next candidates for fae ruler and it's always a possibility we may be chosen. Gaia Life will still exist, but I suspect it will return to a grassroots level, educating people to respect the environment. We are recommending that we undertake a greater effort to find and support the descendants of Lilith and the Hawthorn, encouraging them to accept and develop their powers. Your powers were truly what made the difference in defeating the Dark Overlord." Suddenly, he brushed a tear away from my cheek. "He loved you very much. Believe that it will bring you back together, someday."

With a grim smile, I nodded, then stepped back and watched as his wings extended and he lifted up into the air, watching him until I couldn't see him anymore. On the elevator up to my floor, I thought of all that happened to me over the last few months. My whole life had been uprooted, starting with the death of my father, and ending with the loss of my husband. As I checked my work emails, I realized I had changed too much to return to that job. I didn't know what I was going to do but it wasn't going to be in the cynical atmosphere of the nation's capital.

One Year Later

The sunburnt face and grizzled chin of the farmer I was representing in front of the county board, seemed satisfied when the board agreed that the fracking company, which had set up next to the property line of his farm, had damaged the aquifer enough to affect the quality of his well water. They were ordered to cease and desist all operations, to pay him damages for what they had done, and to pay for the installation of a water tank, as well as the supply of fresh water until such time as his well recovered, based on an independent assessment. It was as good a victory as any I had achieved when I was a high paid lawyer in Washington. For this representation, the best I could expect to be paid was about $5000 but I was also given a permanent invitation to dinner with the farmer and his family, plus a side of beef whenever I needed it. As he, his wife, and kids thanked me while I placed my files in my briefcase I happened to look up and see a familiar face. The woman who wore it sat in one of the stacking chairs that were available for the public to witness the proceedings.

Maria smiled at me as I approached. "I wasn't expecting to see you, not here out in the country."

"Officially, I'm not here," she said. "Is there somewhere we can talk?"

I nodded, then we headed out of the county building to where my truck was, and I deposited my case in the front seat. There was a coffee shop across the way, and we walked across the quiet small-town street, waiting on a truck to pass in front of us before completing the journey. A wave to the waitress from me brought two cups and a pot of coffee.

"Lunch?" asked the waitress, Norma.

I looked at Maria and she shook her head. "No, not today, thanks."

"Should you even be here?" I asked. "I mean, Gaia Life pulled out of Washington pretty quickly, after ...." I left the final part unsaid as it was still painful for me.

"Officially, no, but Hope asked me to come," she replied, then she took a brochure out of her purse. It was for a county-run campground in the next state over, extolling the virtues of a pristine environment, without electricity, wifi, or any of the interruptions of modern society. "She thinks it might be a good idea for you to go camping next weekend. A reservation has already been made and paid for."

I looked at Maria with surprise, but she didn't enlighten me, taking that moment to sip her coffee. So, I asked.

"Why?"

"Just go," she said. "Our new rulers want you to be happy and feel that you may find the visit memorable."

"Rulers? A king and a queen?"

She shrugged, making me understand that I wasn't really permitted to know anymore. Then she smiled kindly again.

"We have looked out for you, you know. You seem happier here than you were in Washington."

"It's quieter and the work is the same, but the rewards are more obvious and satisfying, I guess. I'm still considering my options. How is everyone?"

"Still adjusting but we're alright." She looked at my neck and my left hand. "You still wear them."

"I'm still his wife and I still feel him. I'll never forget him."

"I'm glad." She looked at her watch. "Well, my ride should be here soon. It was good to see you, Sage. Thank you for the coffee."

"You're welcome," I said, internally wondering about the real purpose for the brief visit.

We walked out to the street and a vehicle pulled up in front, with a bald, dark-skinned man driving. He nodded at me, then Maria hugged me, and got inside, receiving a kiss from the man. With a wave, they were gone, as they turned the first corner. With the brochure in my hand, I got in my truck and headed home to the small house I lived in on the edge of town. Opening my laptop, I looked at the website for the campground, seeing only pictures of a small lake, with rustic campsites. Inside the brochure was a folded piece of paper with my reservation and the date, the next full moon. Since I was usually alone anyways, it seemed a good idea.

That weekend I loaded up my pride and joy, a small camper vehicle, big enough for two, or in this case me and my girlfriend's dog, Arlo, who I often brought along to keep me company when I went camping. We headed out in the rain, just after breakfast for the 6-hour drive to the campground. When I did arrive there, the rain was gone, the sun was out and the small campground, with no services, was empty. I found the one reserved for me, that looked out over the small lake but still had the shelter of the trees for shade. It was perfect. After setting up the portable solar panels for power I set up my small picnic table with a camp stove and pulled out my chair, a book, and began to enjoy the solitude, while Arlo rested in the sun before moving to the shade of the camper. The scent of the trees hung heavy in the air, lulling both me and Arlo to sleep. When we awoke the sun was low and I brought out the lantern. Open campfires were prohibited so the light of the lantern would have to suffice. As I came out of the van I saw a figure, standing with his back to me, a short distance away, looking out over the small lake.

He seemed familiar to me, in his heavy flannel shirt, jeans, and hiking boots. When he turned his head to the side, my heart jumped, for his profile was just as beautiful as I remembered. At that moment he became aware I was watching and turned around to face me. Arlo looked at him with ears perked up but didn't seem alarmed at the sudden presence of the man.

"You picked a nice spot," he said. "You respect the space, by keeping your vehicle on the gravel and not starting a campfire. Others who have had this spot to themselves have often ignored the no open campfire sign."

"It is fire season," I replied, keeping my voice steady, as it was obvious he didn't recognize me. "I don't need it. Once the moon comes up and reflects off the water it will be so beautiful and peaceful out here. It's what I wanted more than anything."

He nodded then approached where I sat. He kneeled down and gestured to Arlo, who approached him readily, wagging his tail. Scratching Arlo behind the ears, then his neck made the dog fall onto his side offering his belly. The man chuckled.

"How long have you had him?" he asked.

"He belongs to a friend," I answered. "He's my camping buddy. Living in town can be stressful for a dog so this is his vacation time as well."

Nodding his head sympathetically he looked up at me. "I'm James," he said.

"Sage," I replied. "Are you a camper here?"

"No, I live nearby but I check up on the place for the county and remind people not to have open campfires." He smiled at Arlo, who was pawing him for more belly rubs. "Have we ever met?"

"I was thinking the same thing," I answered. "Except I've never been here before."

"Maybe it's from before I was injured. I almost died and lost most of my memories. Sometimes, I get a flash of them, but it doesn't last." He stood up. "I should get going."

I didn't want him to go. "James, would you like to join me for some hot chocolate? I have another chair in the camper. I wouldn't mind the company."

His smile was soft, as he looked out over the water for a moment then back at me. "I wouldn't mind that at all."

I brought the chair out for him then filled the kettle with water and set it on the burner inside the camper, opening a couple of packets of hot chocolate into a couple of mugs. Inside my camper I also had a bag of mini marshmallows, and I brought them, along with some cookies, placing them on the small picnic table. Before the water boiled, I shut the stove down and poured some water in the mugs, stirring the powder to remove the lumps. Then I poured the rest of the water in, stirring to mix it together smoothly. James watched me as I stepped out of the camper, then took the mug from my hand.

"Thank you," he said, then sipped it and sat back in the chair. He leaned towards the table and took some mini marshmallows, adding them to his drink. "That's better."

He took a couple of cookies and dunked one in the hot chocolate. Quietly, we sipped our drink, watching as the full moon came up over the water. It looked exactly like it did the night of the Solstice ritual on the tiny island in the middle of the ocean. I suddenly sobbed and he looked at me, concerned.

"Are you alright?"

"Just remembering my wedding night," I replied, quickly wiping the tears from my cheeks. "It was on a full moon like this. I lost my husband the next morning. He was murdered in front of me."

"I'm sorry. That must have been devastating." He looked over at the moon. "It seems familiar to me as well but it's a memory that just ...."

He shook his head, frustrated.

"I promise to love thee wholly and completely without restraint, in sickness and in health, in plenty and in poverty, in life and beyond, where we shall meet, remember, and love again." My voice was a whisper.

"What did you say?" he asked, putting the mug down. I repeated it. "I know those words. What was your husband's name?"

"Buck was what everyone called him, but he was born James Barnes," I said, looking directly at him.

"Sage ... is your last name Hawthorne?"

"It was, but I kept my husband's name. It's me, Buck. Don't you remember me?"

"How was your husband killed?"

"A sword through the heart. He actually survived, but he lost all of his memories of me, and I wasn't permitted to stay with him, because he didn't know me, at all."

"Was your wedding night on an island in the ocean?" I nodded. He touched his chest and pulled up his shirt, showing a great scar in the middle of his chest. "They said I was impaled by a weapon, that I almost bled out and I was lucky to survive. It wasn't luck, was it?"

"No, it was magic, but it came at a cost. You lost all of your magic and I gave up all of mine to save you, plus I had to leave you. They said if our love was true, we would find each other again. Now, here you are, in front of me. Have you found me, Buck? Please say you've found me again."

"Amica mea," he murmured, then he looked at me again, his eyes dark, as his memories returned. "Beloved?"

"Yes!"

The tears were streaming down my face, and I wanted to go to him, but my feet wouldn't move. He stood up and came to me, turning me so that my face was fully lit by the lantern. Gently, he touched my cheek with the back of his fingers.

"You cried over me," he said. "Hot tears were falling onto my cheeks, as I called you my beloved, over and over again. You said you would give it all up to save me, that you never wanted it, not if I wasn't with you. There were others there, but I couldn't hear them. I only remember your face and your pendant, then it went black. When I woke up, I was in a hospital. The police said I was found in a park with a stabbing chest wound that just missed my heart by a fraction of an inch. They never found who did it or who phoned for an ambulance. I only knew my name because of my identification. It said I lived near here, alone, running my own furniture making business. I knew how to make the furniture, but I didn't remember actually doing it. Who was I?"

I smiled. "You were special, and I will tell you everything but right now I just want to do one thing, if you'll let me."

He smiled back then he placed one hand in my hair and one around my waist. Gently, he kissed me, and I felt the familiar feeling of all of his kisses. Our kiss deepened and he pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me. I could detect a touch of his scent, the rich scent of the forest after a rainfall. Another scent, that of cut wood was more prominent, probably from the work he did making furniture. It was the feel of his arms around me that confirmed I had him back. Suddenly, I was aware of the sound of wings lifting a body into flight, not just one set but several and I looked around to see them, the fae, who had found my love and brought us back together again, but they were already gone.

Then I saw it on his ring finger, the silver wedding band. He noticed where I was looking and took my left hand in his, rubbing my wedding band with his thumb.

"I didn't know if I was married or widowed, but I kept it on, hoping it would help me remember," he said. Then he gazed at me again. "How did you find me?"

"The fae elements," I replied. "Earth, Air, Water, and Fire, and the fifth one, Love. I think they looked for you and made it possible for us to find each other again."

"My beloved Sage. It's coming back to me. You really did give it all up for me?"

I nodded. "We're both mortals now, joined until we move on to the next life."

"Then I'm happy," he said. "You're all that I want."

We kissed again, in the light of the full moon that covered the water of that small lake in its reflected glow. Then we made love in the small bed of the camper, wrapping our arms and legs around each other as we rekindled the passion of our earlier life. Finally, we slept in each other's arms, while Arlo curled up on the floor. It was quiet and intimate, and over too soon until I moved in with Buck, at the cabin he lived in outside a small town in rural Pennsylvania. That weekend set the stage for years to come as we took our increasingly growing family camping in larger vehicles but always beside a remote lake during the full moon to experience its magic. Occasionally, we received visits from certain individuals who never aged but always seemed happy for us and gleefully played with our children and grandchildren. They grew up believing in the magic of mythical creatures and sacred places and knowing of the necessity for love and friendship in a world that always seemed at odds.

As for us, personally ... as we grew older, seeming to race towards the inevitable end of our time together, we knew it had all been worth it. Buck found peace and contentment with me, his last mate, and I found happiness with the love of my life. When our time came, we faced it together, and jumped into the unknown, secure in our belief that our love would always bind us together, forever. Although it was thought by the fae council that I represented the element of truth, Buck and I believed that I was also love, truly the most intangible element, as it kept the bond between us alive while we were apart.

Part 7>>

Series Masterlist

Please support the author by reblogging.

[jplupine]

🌕~𝕭𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖈𝖍 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙~🌕

🌕: SFW | 🐺: Smut | ⛓: CW for blood/dark content | 🐾: Requests

Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez

Feral Possession [Long Fic] 🐺⛓

Kinktober 2023: Blood Play 🐺⛓

Primal Pred!Grimm x Prey!Reader 🐺

Kenpachi Zaraki

Kinktober 2023: Primal Play 🐺

Sub!Kenpachi x Dom!Reader 🐺

"Good Boy." 🐺

Yoruichi Shihoin

Kinktober 2023: Genderbend 🐺

Soft Dom!Yoruichi x Male Sub 🐺🐾

Nelliel Tu Odelschwanck

Sub!Nelliel x Gamer!Male Reader 🐺🐾

Misc.

31 Days of Bleach [Kinktober 2023]

[lunarmoonanons]

The Singing Dragon: Saera's Nightmare

🌕 🌖 🌗 🌘 🌑 🌒 🌓 🌔 🌕

Masterlist

Saera glided along the path of the gardens. She paid no mind to the flowers that seemed to blur about her. Her hands seemed to reach out in front of her, everything felt like a dream. She did not know how she ended up in such a secluded part of the garden, her and her love’s favorite part of the garden. Saera indulged men and pretty girls in kisses on their necks and cheeks, but her lips were reserved for her dearest love and only true soulmate: YN. Her little sister by two years, the only one of her family not to look down on her for her antics and openness to pleasure. 

Saera could only ever truly love YN. Her sister who did not care for sex and pleasure. Her sister who sang poems and wrote odes to her. She saw the light of the day create a halo around her YN. An image of serenity and peace. Saera sighed in content and reached her hand toward the back of her sister. 

“What are you doing here, Saera?” YN demanded, her tone catching Saera off guard. Saera paused and retracted her hand quickly. 

“I came to see you my darling. I missed you.” 

“You think I am stupid?” YN asked, her voice hard and her back still turned to Saera. 

“What? YN… Please let us spend the day together and-”

YN cut her off harshly and turned her head to glare at Saera. Her violet eyes held fury. “And why would I want to be near you?”

Saera felt her mouth go dry and hands began to shake. YN never spoke to her like this. She held such contempt in her eyes and disgust in her voice as she spoke to Saera. Saera never felt so small, but in this moment she felt as tiny as a mouse. Saera swallowed her worry and tried to laugh off YN’s unusual reaction. 

“My dearest, what has become of you? Did you find your pillow lumpy last night? Please let us forget all contempt and hold each other.” Saera tried to charm her. Reaching her hand out once again. But this time YN suddenly turned her body swiftly and slapped her hand away. 

“Don’t you ever try to touch me! Your hands are filthy and I would not have you defile me by your touch!” YN spit at her. 

“YN…” Saera whispered.

“You are a whore.” YN spat out. Saera felt her heart hit her stomach. “Father was right about you.”

“YN please no… Don’t say this.”

“Father is going to send you away and I’ll be glad to be rid of you.” Saera felt this clouds cover the sun and YN appeared dark and hateful. “You killed Daella, and now you are trying to ruin me as well.”

“YN I love you.” Saera tried to appease. 

“You don’t know what love is. You are incapable of being loved. Who would ever love you?” 

With that Saera started to cry as YN sneered and laughed at her misery. Saera tried to beg but her words fell silent on the harsh wind that grew. Saera couldn’t recognise her love who appeared to be entirely different . 

~~~

Saera shot up from her feather bed. Looking around her dark room. The only light from the dimming fireplace. She looked to her side and there was YN sleeping peacefully. The two would often share a bed and sleep near each other. Saera touched her cheek, finding it wet from her tears. Out of frustrations and hurt from her dream Saera balled her fist and struck her sister in the arm. Waking the girl from her slumber. 

“What? What’s wrong?” YN asked hurriedly and rubbed her arm sleepily. 

“You called me a whore!” Saera accused and glared at the tired girl. 

“No I didn’t! When did I call you a whore?!” YN demanded and sat up to look at her. 

“In my dream you did!” Saera pouted and crossed her arms, looking away from her. 

“Your dream?... Saera that was a dream! I’d never call you that! You know that!” YN tried to defend. When Saera still turned her head away and refused to look at YN, the younger girl sighed and reached her hand to her sister’s face. Wiping her tears as she smiled sadly at Saera.

“My beloved. I do suffer love, for I love you against my will. I couldn’t help but fall in love with you and suffer love for you daily. You are my stars and sky. The scattering of light in my darkness.” YN hummed and rested her chin against Saera’s shoulder. 

Saera uncrossed her arms and reached her hand back to hold YN’s. Her sister spoke love like poetry. Saera finally turned to YN and wiped her cheeks one last time. Smiling sadly at her beloved. 

“In my darkest fears, you turn away from me.” Saera said, looking into YN’s eyes. 

“They are just dreams. The important things in life are when we are awake. For that’s when we make things happen.” YN smiled. 

Saera smiled back and kissed her sweetly. Her lips and kisses were reserved only for YN. Even after a nightmare, Saera could find comfort in YN’s arms. For they were just dreams. And dreams couldn’t harm her.

[shy-nightmare]

Dear @lastofautumn, if you're reading this, I have a message for you.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR FOLLOWING ME!!!!

No, seriously. Thank you so much!!!! 😁😁😁😊😊😊😁😁😁🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

I saw the notification literally as soon as I woke up this morning, but I didn't have time to pour out my gratitude for your immense kindness. But now that I do, I'm taking this as an opportunity to say thank you and welcome to my lair of darkness! 🦇

@weaselnerd, @los-angeles-toon-patrol, look! Another newcomer has joined us!

I post WFRR/Toon Patrol content, but I also post moon photography one or twice a month 🌔🌕🌖

Also, I saw your Aggretsuko-sona. So freaking CUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUTE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Love your artwork too! 😁😁😁😁😁

THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!

[jovianghost]

🎃 hello, friends! you can call me ish, heart, hex, or ghost. i’m 26. my pronouns are he/him & they/them. my birthday is august 11th! 👻

writer, poet, fanfic dabbler, stim blogger, professional yearner, & freelance etymologist.

trans masc nonbinary & pansexual.

blessed with the Autism.

mentally & physically disabled.

i love cats; i am a huge cat advocate & kitties are an important passion of mine. if you don’t like cats, i’m wary of you.

i have seven wonderful babies of my own that you can see here.

moths & other bugs are also a very important hyperfixation of mine. i also love jellyfish.

galaxy, nebula, constellation, & planet / exoplanet lover. space excites me in both the fun & the scary ways.

collector of many things, both strange & simple. especially collecting water charms, physical art, & stickers at the moment.

avid photographer.

i love knickknacks & have many of them; i believe knickknacks are bearers of positive energy & they bring extra love to any home.

leo sun ☀️, aries moon 🌕, capricorn rising ⬆️

respectful & responsible pagan.

healing from trauma with a newly positive attitude.

my primary special interests right now are:

thembo bloodhound & evil trashcan revenant - now featuring ole fusey (apex legends).

add in some (A LOT) of my beloved jayvik (arcane) to the mix & you get what the fuck i’m on about.

yellowjackets. i’m pretty harebrained about jackieshauna, so sorry lol

mouthwashing, because i can’t love any non-soul crushing media.

game of thrones, house of the dragon, & the entirety of the ASOIAF universe.

off (mortis ghost).

the locked tomb series.

overwatch :/ (d.vattra truther here)

& the last of us. so, i suppose you see where i’m at.

▪️ i do not consistently tag triggers on this blog, except for flashing gifs & flashing videos. i sometimes reblog blood, unsettling imagery, suggestive content, & nudity. please view at your own discretion. ▪️

▫️ other blogs: @hexbish (text post dump / vent blog, completely untagged), @ghxstwxtch (witchy / paganism stuff), @ghostwriter-s (the blog where i post writing things & will probably post on again eventually….), @heartnosekid (main stim blog), @nonagesimuses (dark / horror stim blog), @ostarasghost (animal crossing blog).▫️

click here once daily to help palestine and support other causes in the middle east for free.

🍁🌙🎃🐈‍⬛🌸🍓🍇🐝🎨🦋🧩🪼🏔️🐈🌌🐾🔮🍄‍🟫🪐🌈