#ACCEPT YOUR FATE HUMAN

[shinjisdone]

Two Humans in the Demon Realm - Fantasy And Nightmare

What if by the time Luz Noceda the human emerged into the demon realm...some other human did, too? However, instead of being joyful of being surrounded by all they love and taken in by a kind and openhearted witch...they are terrified of this place, taken in by the ruler of the realm?

[Basically I watched TOH again and dammit HUNTER SHALL HAVE A FRIEND I SAY NOT UNTIL S2 but NOW I SAY NOW]

BECOMING THE GOLDEN GUARD'S/HUNTER'S HUMAN FRIEND BECAUSE I SAID SO

The ground was red.

You swore you heard something akin to a growl from the plants.

The sea seems to be boiling and there is no way out, no matter how much you twist and turn.

There is no escape.

And as your fears turn into reality as raindrops hit your skin and burn your flesh away as you read in the book back home, you run and cry.

This is a nightmare.

This isn't earth. Nowhere this place could be, could be earth!

And if what that book said was true...

There are no humans but just one. From decades ago.

Perhaps you heard of the demon realm - through stories, gossip, theories, relatives that are aware of magic and witchcraft.

Maybe you believed in it, or maybe you thought it'd be humbug. The few magical instances in your life you witnessed - those were just show, right? A trick of the mind?

Or real magic after all.

But it did not matter. The moment you opened your eyes, you were stuck here.

On a rotting, red, boiling island that seemed far, far too familiar in that book you've read. Either out of interest or boredom. Maybe someone wanted to prove it to be real or you wanted to know if it was really fake.

Yet here you are and the smell, touch, sight and taste you sense were accurate to that stupid book.

And if that were the case, then certainly the rest of demons, magic and curses was real, too.

Being all alone in a strange place, stuck in it, is definitely going to be hard for you. No friends, allies or family around with only this stupid, stupid book in your hands that got you trapped here in the first place. As much as you hated it, it did give insight of the many qualities of the isles and therefore saving your skin a dozen times.

"The rain seems to be toxic. I have seen none indulge in its coolness but rather, hide from it. Witch and demon alike."

"The ground is very...solid. Almost bone-like...I do fear the entire island may be nothing but a macabre graveyard."

"I was not quite welcome here...nothing and no one hunted me down but I presume if my curiousity pushes for it, they will begin to."

The impressed yet depressing writing of the author did not help but they always managed to decribe things objectively with great detail that saved you again and again. Especially the pages including magic spells.

The many complicated and confusing glyphs written in it daunted you at first. Magic, you believe, is what got you in this mess in the first place but after careful thinking, procrastination, blocking it all out and finding yourself in a situation that forced you to cast magic - such one that could cost you your life - you've grown to be a bit more accepting of the concept of these...glyphs. Little by little, though.

So after some time, you finally, finally gained enough courage to...enter their society.

The market seemed to be fine for now. Hiding your ears behind a cape and hood YOU HAD TO MAKE YOURSELF USING THIS STUPID BOOK (which actually turned out quite impressive even when you did have to use magic) you entered. Turning into the wrong directions though you ended up in a even sketchier part of the night market.

The constant bellowing of...demons wanting to sell you things was familiar enough from earth (even when their...four eyes and gills decorated from their chin down to their chest where you can...see their heart beating...was a not so familiar sight) but the constant showing off of magic was not. You did not know everything and this (stupid) book did not detail everything either so you did your best to avoid anything magical. Which was harder than imagined considering this is a market for amplifiers and potions and whatnot.

Avoiding it all let you to an dead end of an alley...and right in the middle of a criminal act!

'Wild witches' as they were called and a red light engulfed all of you quickly from above. Figures clad in dark and masks that you recognized as that of guards of this realm appeared, those that you often had to run away from as well. Desperately tugging the book under your cloak you hoped you could use th scuffle to get out of there as fast and quietly as possible. These 'wild witches' and guards could thrash each other as much as they like, you won't stop them!

Yet from above, a cold gale with a flash of gold swept up from behind you, shoving a staff into your face.

"I wouldn't do anything stupid now if I were you."

Damnit!

Fine, the potion you begrudgingly needed three days to make had to come in handy now!

Whisking a flask to the ground, you made a run for it. You could hear coughing and cursing as the vapor ingulfed them, followed soon by another echoing sound before the same golden mask appeared in front of you again.

In a mere blink of an eye, they swung their staff and a biting wind knocked you to the ground. You quickly clung onto your book as the guard rose their staff above their head.

"One more of that trick and you're ash." They lowly let out, "Can't believe there are still wannabees out there that-"

They halt and you freeze, a shiver running up your spine. Even when all they did was stand still as a statue, the very fact that they were clad and gold and white with real, heavy armor and with a staff compared to the local guards around the isles was enough to leave you frightened.

This one means business. It must be.

But what are they? Nowhere are these people ever talked about in the book!

"...Human..."

You jerked up. Even their whispers were threatening.

Slowly but surely, the guard lowered their weapon. Though their face remained hidden by the mask resembling an owl, there was just a feeling, and underlying but undeniable feeling that made your stomach churn that whatever expression they might be having, their intentions are not in your interest.

"You're a human."

Your breath hitches. The cloak had fallen off from their spell, leaving it damp and abandoned further down in the alley. You didn't this would happen, you followed the instructions bit by bit. It felt like time stood still as the person before you hummed.

Finally, they raised their head again. "...You don't want trouble. Surely you don't?"

You shook your head.

"Then you're lucky you ran into me. Either you come with me or its the Conformatorium for you." They pointed the glowing tip of their weapon at you before playfully swinging it around, "And then, you know, zapped to dust, thrown into the sea to boil alive or petrified - there isn't much use for humans here."

Finally, you manage to speak. "You're not serious, are you?"

They sigh and motion for you to get up, doing so more threateningly when you did not obey the first time. "I'm not known for playing around." The red glow of the staff zapped towards your body, slung around your wrists like a snake before they jabbed you to keep walking out of the night market. "The Golden Guard can't afford to play around."

The next events were something you could only describe as hectic. Put on some kind of zeppelin (though it looked like a ship with wings) with magical...ropes(?) on you and head off to somewhere. Somewhere this guy claimed to be better than the 'Conformatorium'.

You had asked him what the point of taking you was but he was a bit too nonchalant for your taste.

"Oh, you'll see", He let out, "The Conformatorium is for witches and demons useless for the covens. But lucky for you, you might end up being useful, human."

It's all he said as he turned his back to you, controlling the ship with an carefree tune.

"I have a name, you know."

You spat out, couldn't take his attitude anymore. What is wrong with people in this realm?

The Golden Guard halted for a moment, stopping his melody abruptly. He waved his hand. "And?"

In turn, you scoffed out your name and telling him he might as well use it instead.

"What, does everyone also go around avoiding your name and calling you 'Golden Guard' instead or whatever?"

Once again he halted, longer than you anticipated. It was one request, a mere question but it left this guard guy guessing. He tilted his head absent-mindedly. You wondered what he'd need to ponder about for so long.

"...I do my job well," He started softly, "Well enough to be the only one worthy to be called the Golden Guard."

The trip was short and you did not know what to think of it. Glad to not bear this guy's attitude any longer or fearing for your life as a mere human in a place full of witches.

And covens? Use? Use for what? What is this...giant building, seeming more grande than anything else you've seen on the isles?

The rest followed by command. The Golden Guard shooed you to an different entrance than what you assumed tha main one was. The staff pressed against your back as you had no choice but to obey. With what could you defend yourself anyhow? An ancient book and bound hands?

The interior was akin to a palace of the medieval times, you noted. Individuals masked and clad in similiar white and gold worked routinely like soldiers in the hallways though your Golden Guard guy made sure nobody saw you. None of this was written in the book and though you have heard a few mumble in fear of the 'Emperor's Coven' you thought none of it. As long as you stayed away from it, you'd be safe. Yet here you were.

With a jab to the back, your oh so sweet companion ushered you up hidden stairs. Once entered the door behind you closed shut (with magic. Of course. Even in movies you never liked it when doors unexplainedly closed) and you went up ahead. The guard seemed to speed up more and more - along with getting ever so closer to a bright light ahead, you grew more anxious. This was it, wasn't it? You were going to die.

This would be your end, thrown into an hellscape away from family and friends. Treated like something worse than trash before your inevitable death.

Your companion rushed ahead of you, stepping into the room and immediately kneeling down. He moved his staff, causing you to tumble next to him, the magic ropes around your wrists tightening. "My Emperor," He let out in the most reverant voice you've heard him speak, "I apololgize for the sudden intervention but I have found something that might be of great interest to you regarding...the plan."

Looking up the dimly lit room, following the golden floor and walls, clad in immaculate red carpets and a set of stairs lied a throne. Tall and towering and on it, a man even more frightening.

He leaned his masked head against his armored hand, comfortably sitting on gold. His pale blue eyes glowed like that of a predator, you swore it at first sight.

"Your little friend will help accomplish our plan?"

"It is not anyone, sir." The Golden Guard pushed you forward and exposed your ears, "It is a human."

The exchange was scarier than anything else you'd seen on the isles.

The man on the throne was as swift as the wind as he stood up and approached you. He'd examine you, ask you question on who and what you are.

"Where do you come from, child, and when was that?"

He'd tilt his head and hum at your answers but did not make it known that he noticed your shaking and stuttering. However, his eyes lit up even more when he saw that book tightly hidden in your bag.

"Oh? What's this now?" With a flick of his finger, the book floated up to his eye level, pages after pages turned as he read them ever so quietly.

He'd definitely would ask you from where you got this book.

In the end it did not matter. Found it at a library, abandoned at a bus stop, given by clerk or friend. However, the man would raise a brow if you said that this book had been in your family for years.

Only if that were the case, though.

"Interesting. Well, welcome to the Emperor's Castle. Do make yourself at home."

...Wh-what?

The Golden Guard was just as confused as you. Stammering, he got up. "U- Emperor, what, here? Wh-what do you mean 'make yourself at home'?"

"It is what I said. Have you never had any guests, Golden Guard? You don't keep them prisoner," The man lifted his hand and the ropes around you vanished, "and you certainly take care of them. Like preparing a room for example." He put his arms behind his back, staring down at the younger man expectantly. He in turn, bowed and helped you up.

The...king of this castle you presumed, waved you goodbye. "We'll see what we can do for now. I'll gladly keep you here in my castle, safe and sound from the wilderness outside as long you can help me, little human."

Your companion excused the both of you and hurried you out of the throne room. Discreetly leading you inside an unused room, he shut the door.

"You're really lucky." He sighed, "...Anyone else wouldn't get...this treatment."

He sounded surprised and slightly melancholic but you didn't care - instead you can bombard him with any questions you like but he won't answer. Instead he shook his head and rose his open palm. "Listen, human. We're going to see how much of use you're going to be to the Emperor. But right here and now, the two of us are going to make some rules that he doesn't need to know of."

You can complain as much as you like but here you are in no position to refuse.

The Golden Guard listed each rule he abided to you.

'Do not leave the the castle, let alone the room. No one but him and the Emperor can know of your existence.'

'Tell each and every little secret you have to him first.'

'Don't cause trouble. He can get permission to stop treating you like a guest if you do'.

And lastly: 'Obey the Emperor.'

Your expression sours. This isn't what you wanted.

None of this was supposed to happen.

"Well, you'll get by. After all, as long as the Emperor allows it, you'll be kept safe. It's, ugh, my duty now too, to protect you. But be sure to stay in line because I can easily withdraw that priviledge."

Here you were. In this room.

It did have a bed, closet and desk with a chair. Much better than taking shelter in the rain under a firm bone or illegally breaking into someone's basement or shed. However, it was much more barren than any shed you broke into.

The Golden Guard would come in two to three times a day (WITHOUT KNOCKING) and bring you food and water. Either sternly ordering you around or playfully degrading you with a tap on the head with his staff. "Don't worry, the food is digestible for your human organs!" His enthusiasm didn't make the food taste any better though.

Aside from this, he'd ask you questions which you could only refuse or answer vaguely. He'd remind you of the safety the Emperor is providing you...but you can't admit that this 'Emperor' man felt sketchy to you. The book you always had with you was something you kept only for your eyes to see. It was your key in getting out of the demon realm and not matter what, you swore to yourself you wouldn't give it away or lose sight of it.

However, one day you had a request of your own.

"You remember our rules, don't you, human? No leaving this room."

"You can't expect to keep me here - thats keeping me prisoner, not as a guest!"

"I can tell you all about the great Emperor's Coven here. Besides, the Emperor plans to have a talk with you again."

You sigh. What's the point of escaping the room and getting lost in this giant castle right after? As well as risking being kicked out into the deadly outside of the isles?

But staying here would make you mad. Stuck in a system that you know nothing about...and you're supposed to just obey and take it?

"Can't you at least...show me around? I'd leave the room, yes, but you'd be with me. We wouldn't leave the castle and you can just keep an eye on me if you must. It's just...tiring to be here and not know what the rest of everything looks like." You looked out the window you were prohibited from opening. At least light went through, something akin to what you could deem a sun. "I still don't like this realm...but knowing nothing of it doesn't put me at ease even when I'm safe here."

Looking back you reckoned the Golden Guard was pondering about your request even behind the mask. You couldn't believe you were about to beg.

"Please, Golden Guard?"

Something about that look on your face felt too familiar.

With a heavy sigh he looks away - yet quickly regained his usual vigor. "Well, it would be a shame to be stuck in the great Emperor's Castle with the Golden Guard as your host and not see any of it."

He waved you over his shoulder to follow before swiftly spinning around with a stern voice. "But don't stray out of my sight. Disobey once and you're back in your room, human."

Hoooh boy, it worked.

Although a cloak and a mask was shoved into your hands, you gladly wore it if it meant getting out of the barren, same old room. As he said, the Golden Guard did not let you out of his sight but did insist on leading you. After all, you are pretending to be a newbie covenmember and the Golden Guard can't be seen walking side-by-side with someone beneath his status, hah!

He blabbered on and on about the many sights and objects you face with every turn of the hallways, some more interesting than the other. Your guard however, explained in great detail and with much vigor himself. "To the right we have the Healing Hat and if our guest were to turn to the left, they can admire the Oracle Sphere..."

He continued on with great detail as he waved his hand around as if that information was swimming carefreely in his brain. "Uhm, Golden Guard?" "Yes, newbie?" You ignored the sarcasm, "You witches can do magic because of that heart-addition-gall-thing-" "A sac connected to the heart filled with magical bile, which you lack." "Right. Then why do you need these magical items?"

He sighed. "They can be seen as amplifiers. They're made out of ingredients from the isles which can exceed magical abilities far greater than of any witch, besides Emperor Belos of course. It's easier than to train forever in a coven, so a short cut in a way." He shrugged.

You pondered about his answer, pursing your lips as you somewhat hesitated to ask again.

"...What are covens?"

In an blink of an eye the Golden Guard spun around and you could just imagine his dropped jaw. He let out something of a chortle. "Are you serious? You don't know anything of the Boiling Isles, do you, human?"

You sure were sick of his insults.

"If you were thrown into my realm, you wouldn't know a thing about my home either, would you, witch?"

Taking a step back, your companion hummed. "Hmph, fine. Then I'd better teach you about things here you should and shouldn't do before you get yourself killed. Can't afford to have you walk off and do something stupid, that'd be getting in the way of the plan...so follow my lead, human! I can show you the ropes."

So here you were, taking a longer patroul than planned as your teacher told you all there was to know - which was already a flood of information to take in and remember and you only started with the Emperor's Coven.

As witty his remarks were and how much he loved to throw them at you, the Golden Guard was truly a great teacher. He had a way to inprint each little trivia into your brain and even when you struggled to understand something, he managed to teach it to you in a way that you could grasp. The guy was quite knowledgable himself and it seemed his thirst for magical knowledge couldn't be easily quenched. He had an high opinion on both the Emperor's Coven and magic itself.

At the end of each day you made sure to write each new knowledge down in your book. It brings a smile on your face to see the book continued on from the detailed drawings and pretty, cursive writing to your little doodles and quick notes. It weirdly felt like being back in school and studying and while the change of environment and subjects weredaunting, the familiar routine brought you a bit of comfort.

The instances that brought no comfort were the 'meetings' with the 'king man'.

The Golden Guard drilled it into your head that he shall be adressed as 'Emperor Belos' yet no title could cease his suspicious aura. The man in question never seemed to take offense however.

He began with easy questions. Name, age, where you're from specifically and your time here in the demon realm. Often he found interest in your book but you hesitated to share its contents. The ruler always backed off when you refused.

It was also always very strange when the powerful witch emperor used your name and the Golden Guard didn't.

"Thanks for your time. It's always interesting to hear your perspective from your realm and how you perceive ours. You're really lucky you ended up here in my castle."

Belos also always reminded you of how safe you are in his domain.

If you show any disdain for the demon realm he surprisingly understands. A poor human like you couldn't survive out there for any longer...he can imagine the struggle.

He'd also be interested how far the human realm is on it's moderness. Is it the same as in the demon realm?

His number one question is how you got here in the first place though. You genuinely do not know nor remember but you do keep the secret that it had something to do with the book. Even when you did not know how.

Nevertheless, no matter how much Belos tries to win your favor and trust to look into the book and how you got here, you cannot bring yourself to trust him. The mannerism, the way he talks and walks and knowing he is an emperor just did not sit right with you.

It was never pleasant to meet with him even when he pretends it is.

So the routine stayed the same for a while until something happened.

How it happened is up to you. You snuck onto the airship to finally get out of that castle, the book or some magical item led you to it, you needed to see the Golden Guard for whatever reason or you accidentally got on it. The how doesn't matter, the fact that you are here is what would drive Belos' right-hand man mad.

"What- are you doing here?!" He squeaks out but no explanation would actually calm him. This is an mission he's on and no matter what he cannot let Belos' guest get involved in it! Think about the danger! "Oh, no, no, this isn't good. I already wasn't supposed to show you around the castle but this - this is inexcusable! No, I can't...you aren't supposed to be here, human!"

You back off. This is the first time you've seen the Golden Guard so...anxious.

As quick as it came however, he was able to shake it off and put on the mask again.

"No, it's fine. I can fix this before it even becomes a problem. But you, "He grabs your wrist, "You're staying by my side, got it?"

The outside was dangerous.

You landed in a part of the isles that was unfamilair to you. A few plants and forages were drawn in the book but that was all there was to it. Trotting after him, danger was quick to follow. It took him first and with the book always on your person, you swiftly drew a glyph in the ground. Creating a few more and dragging the guard back to the ship, he panted out his panic. And what you actually did.

"That...that was magic. I think. Picto - Picture - I don't know that part is hard to distinguish in the book." "That...that was kinda amazing...how did you-!"

Another wave of danger came and you drew another glyph onto ground. The guard steered the damaged ship to safety while you threw every trick you had up your sleeve. Finally arriving close to the castle in safety, your companion caught his breath and approached you.

"How...how did you do that? I thought humans can't put any spells on anything! I've never seen magic casted like that before!"

You can't help but smile slightly, seeing him genuinely flustered. Seems like he wasn't really this all-knowing teacher.

"I just copied what was in the book...it's easier than you think." Yet at that moment, your heart dropped. Someone as inquisitive as the Golden Guard who is still your captor even if he doesn't see himself in that way, would then want nothing more than to look into your book. You caught him reaching out for it before he stopped.

"Wait...those were various magic spells used from all kinds of covens...wild magic. You can't use that." You raised a brow and pressed the book further into you and away from him. "Why not? It's just usual magic, isn't it?" "You don't understand," He sounded serious despite being roughed up, "Of course you human wouldn't understand. You could get hurt if you aren't careful. Wild magic can..."

Retracting his hand, a sigh escaped him and he halted for a few moments. You weren't sure what he'd do next.

"...I am not giving you the book."

"You should! In fact, you gotta if you don't want to end up hurt!"

"These spells saved us! I saved you!"

Your glare soured again into a small frown. You took a step back and looked up at him, lips pressed into a thin line. You didn't really wanted to have him as an enemy.

You didn't want anyone to be an enemy. You didn't want to be here.

"I'm not fond of this magic either, Golden Guard, but I've got to use them. If I don't, I won't survive. If I didn't use this book back when I first got here and just now, I wouldn't have survived this place at all."

The guy was unusually silent. Only the flat breaths hitting his mask filling the silence.

Finally, he spoke up just as soft as you.

"...Why did you save me anyway?"

You rose a brow. You could understand where he came from with that question...but it still came out of nowhere. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Because you have no reason to. I...I am your host and you are welcome in the castle but you...you still didn't have a reason..." He trailed off for a second before starting again, "You could have steered the ship and got yourself back to safety. You could've left me behind."

Again, you only looked at him puzzled. "...Why would I?"

You stared at each other in silence.

- Before you broke it with nervous laughter. "I don't know how it is with you but from where I come from we...don't usually do that. You needed help and I could help you with these glyphs," You pointed at the book, "So, I helped you. I...couldn't just abandon you, Golden Guard."

The second wave of silence that ensued truly made your nervousness rocket.

A breath was taken, as if he had held it the entire time he was staring at you, and with it let out mumbles under his breath. "That's...so weird." With an unsure gait he passed by you, grabbed your wrist and lead the both of you to the castle.

Without looking back he adressed you with his usual stern voice. "I will not be confiscating the book. But I want to know what other forms of wild magic you can do...for research and safety. I won't tell Emperor Belos anything of what happened today."

The days grew less mundane at least, beside the one misadventure.

The Golden Guard visited you more often with more interesting intentions. You shared with what you were comfortable with and though it did annoy him at times, he found this new information more than helpful. You discussed many variants of magic and his excitment of the topic was quite infectious (but you'd never tell him that). In turn, he showed more around the castle and introduced you to many things but would not take you with him outside the castle barriers.

He still did not thank you for saving his life. It seemed he did not know how.

But you've come to grown to his company and vice versa.

[canisalbus]

I could see Machete as one of those goats that has their horns grow into their head

Like you know some type of "can't run from the inevitable" type of analogy or something

.

[automatonknight]

id: a digital drawing of pioneer 9 and 10, as well as juice from 17776. they’re shown standing in line, holding hands and dancing. 9 is the most to the left and they’re leaning back and throwing their free hand up into the air. 10 is in the middle, lifting one of her legs up. juice is to the right, doing a sort of kneel while also pointing up with his free hand, on which he’s wearing one of those big hands made out of foam. both pioneer 9 and 10 are wearing jumpsuits, while juice is wearing a scraft, t-shirts and shorts. the background is black and the characters are only lined in their corresponding colors-9 using pink/red, 10 using green and juice using yellow. end id

[robotsafari]

a mind palace’s (unasked for) renovations [DO NOT TAG AS SHIP]

bonus under the cut:

white mushroom more like “butlershroom.”

anyway. yep! my headcanon is that the mushroom series of heartless were essentially like early versions of ansem. experiments to see if creating a heartless with a will of its own were even possible. (the mushrooms just wanna play charades and go on nice walks! they wont steal your heart because their instincts tell em’ to! they’ll only snatch it if they feel like it <3) how can you make an “immortal” successor if they cant even understand the research you left for them? so thats why they were created!

[mechabass]

Bruh I started a tag with "trans men" on a queued post and the *first* tag suggested is "trans men are women" as if that's the most commonly used tag of the sort, specifically more than "trans men are men/valid"

(please tell me it's not, right? Like please tell me terfs don't have *that* much of a stronghold here. This has to be the same kind of Effective Algorithm that repeatedly subjected me to radfem brain rot that once that was """based on my likes""")

[steeb-stn]

‘This is a love story, and that’s not good’ mr mazin please cease and 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵

[gojorgeous]

"creature of myth."

pairing: vampire!gojo x fem!human!reader summary: when you receive an offer of marriage from a mysterious wealthy lord, it’s too good a deal for your family to turn down. but nothing could be so perfect... right? content: MDNI (18+  ONLY), dark content, nsfw, gets dubcon/noncon in some spots, yandere behavior from gojo, implied death/k*lling of a character (not reader or gojo), arranged marriage, victorian au, plot that ends with porn lmao, spooky dooky vibes, blood, blood sucking/eating, praise, biting, unprotected sex, creampie, virgin!reader, discussion of virginity, cherry popping, pain, pet names (princess/love), reader is highkey clueless about sex, discussion of masturbation, ideas of masturbation as “sinful”, very minor religious themes, fated “mates”, gojo is highkey insane, coercion and manipulation, like SO much neck kissing, ooc gojo??? (had to alter his character to match a victorian vampire lord LMAO). a/n: PLEASE READ THE CONTENT WARNINGS. THERE IS DARK CONTENT AHEAD. is this a gojo fic or a twilight fic?? Going back to my roots fr fr. straight down to the “SAY IT, SAY IT”. this fic is also way too long my apologies bbs. i hope you like a hefty side of plot with your porn. parts of this fic feel way too cheesy to me but sometimes i eat that up, yk?? this fic was inspired by this amazing work by @rice5x ! and, finally, thank you all for the support on my most recent fics. i'm just getting back into being active on this blog and it's been amazing reading each and every comment/reblog/ask. they genuinely fill me with so much joy. keep them coming hehe. anyway, i hope you enjoy and remember, ALL AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED. credits: dividers by @cafekitsune. banner art by @ndsoda on twitter. wc: 11.6k (sowwy)

You remember perfectly the way your mother’s jaw dropped when Satoru Gojo proposed to you. You’d never seen the man, and you still hadn’t. He’d asked to marry you via messenger, a simple letter delivered by hand with a list of all the things he’d be willing to pay for your hand. Offers of money, land, protection, connection- anything so long as he got you. You’d thought it was a joke. Your father nearly took a shovel to the head of the poor messenger, thinking the letter was some kind of cruel prank, some sort of targeted disrespect. You’d only started to believe when you really looked- saw the Gojo crest embroidered on the man’s suit, the fine leather of his boots. If it was a prank, somebody had spent a great deal of money and effort to pull it off. 

You’d asked for proof nonetheless, and you’d gotten it. Documents signed and sealed with a well-known waxen crest, gifts that could only have been purchased by a wealthy lord. The one thing you never got was the lord himself. He refused to see you, to come down from his mysterious castle on the hill. It didn’t surprise you. He rarely deemed town worthy of his presence. He had a reputation as a recluse, as a man who only ever liked to see and never be seen. What little glimpses people got of him were usually through the dark window of his carriage. Still, his appearance preceded him. White hair, light eyes… “haunting” said those who had the luck to see him. Those who went to work for the lord tended to return… changed— if they returned at all. 

You accepted, of course. How could you not? You were a peasant family with no status or wealth to your name. The promises Lord Gojo had made would make your parents into aristocrats all on their own. But that left you wondering… why did he want you? You offered him no benefit. If anything, you sullied his bloodline. The question scratched at the back of your mind. It came to you while you ate breakfast, while you washed your clothes, while you weeded in the garden. Some part of you told you that you needed the answer before you ever stepped foot in that castle. You needed that answer, but you’d never get it. 

Your wedding wasn’t even a wedding- just a piece of paper that had already been signed and witnessed, once again delivered by a familiar messenger. You signed at your dining room table and… that was that. You were married. 

Later that night the carriages arrive. Men flood your home, all dressed in blue velvet, the Gojo crest embroidered on their chests. They seem puzzled when you tell them you’ve packed all your belongings into a measly three bags. 

You say a quick goodbye to your parents, drawing them into stiff embraces. You love them, and they love you, but you can’t bear to see their faces as they send you away to a man who couldn’t even show his face for your wedding. 

The carriage ride is somehow longer than you’d thought it would be- apparently, the castle’s size makes it seem deceptively close. The trip is rocky and twisty and altogether unpleasant as you steadily make your way toward the castle gates. By the time you reach them you think you’ve probably dozed in and out of consciousness at least half a dozen times. 

The castle is even more intimidating up close. Spires that swirl into the clouds, sculptures that stare, doors that look more suited to being locked than opened. It’s… terrifying. 

When you finally roll to a stop, you move for the door. When you swing it open you get your fair share of strange looks from your attendants and remember that you should have waited for the footman. Your face heats as you climb out anyway, unwilling to subject yourself to the further humiliation of waiting for assistance. 

Your feet hit gravel and all you can do is stare- up, up, up, to where the castle’s peaks disappear into the fog. When your eye flashes to a window on the east side of the manor you think you see a swaying curtain. You tuck your arms around yourself and shiver, but it’s not from the cold. 

You nearly stumble over your feet on your first step inside. The entrance hall is larger than your former house, with ceilings that stretch so high you can hardly make out the figures on the frescoes that adorn it. Silver and blue drape everywhere, the Gojo family colors. You swallow when you see a chair that is most definitely worth more than your family’s annual income. 

The floors are marble and when your worn heels clack against it, you only feel reminded that you don’t belong here. That question pricks in your mind again as you pass portraits of every Gojo heir to have lived in the last three hundred years. Why me? Why me? Why me? 

Your footman deposits you in your room, a place more lavish than you’ve ever seen. You have a four poster bed with a canopy of blue velvet, a window that overlooks a sprawling estate, and more square footage than you’ve ever dreamed of. 

“Pull this if you need any sort of assistance, ma’am.” 

You turn to see your footman referencing a silver cord at your bedside. You assume it’s one of those contraptions that rings a bell in the servants’ quarters. You try to hide your amazement- you’ve never seen one in real life before. 

You clear your throat and give your most ladylike nod. “Thank you, um-” you pause, your brow furrowing. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I asked your name.” 

Your footman appears stunned to silence, like he’d never expected you to care about his existence, much less his name. He recovers quickly, though, and forces a small smile. “Thomas, ma’am.”

You smile and it’s genuine. “Thank you, Thomas.”He bows and makes a beeline for the door, but you have one more question. “Oh, um, Thomas-” He freezes, turning slowly on his heel to face you. 

“Yes, my lady?” 

You cringe at the title. The sound of it creeps across your skin, foreign and… wrong. Why me? Why me? Why me?

You clear your throat again. “Do you know, um, well-” You shift, trying to word your question properly. “Do you know when I might see the Lord?” 

There is a pause, a moment of tension and silence, and then an answer. “No, my lady.”

Thomas does not stick around for more questioning. The door clicks shut behind him and then you're left with only the sound of retreating footsteps. 

You’re stunned to say the least, mouth still halfway open, more questions on the tip of your tongue. Should you seek him out? Was that proper? Would he come to you? Would he meet you for dinner, perhaps? Surely he would come to your room tonight to… consummate. Would that be the first time you lay eyes on him? When he’s over you? 

You sigh. There’s nothing much to be done about it now. You find your way to the bed and sit down hesitantly. It feels like a crime to rumple such primped and polished cotton. You do it anyway- it’s going to happen sometime, right? You fall back against the mattress and don’t fail to notice how utterly comfortable it is. The silvery patterns on your canopy swirl and bend together. You’re tired. You didn’t sleep much last night, anxious for the morning… and it’s only mid-afternoon now. You had time for a nap, right? Your eyes are closing before you can convince yourself it’s a bad idea and then you’re swept away into a world of warm darkness. 

You wake with a start. Your first thought is that it’s dark now. Your room is pitch black except for the stream of moonlight passing through your stupidly large window. Your mouth feels dry and your skin is cold, like you’ve just woken from a nightmare. If you have, you don’t remember it. Perhaps that’s a blessing. 

You sit up, combing a finger through your hair and laughing pitifully when you realize that you left your shoes on as you slept. You hope Thomas didn’t walk in to find you in yet another unladylike position. A glance at the foot of the bed reveals he might have. Your bags have arrived- all three of them. You eye them with a combination of longing and contempt. They don't match this place. They’re worn and used- everything here is shiny and new. Still, they’re all you have, and all you have left of your life before. All you have left of home. 

You stretch your arms above your head, nearly groaning at the burn in your muscles. The carriage ride did your body no favors and you suspect you’ll be sore for many days to come. 

You rise, no longer content to lie in bed. You’ve had your rest and, from the state of darkness outside, you suspect your new husband might be joining you soon. The thought twists a certain tightness into your gut, but you push it aside. If that was the price you paid for all he gave your family… then you’d pay it gladly. 

You start with candles, finding a box of matches at your bedside. You light every candelabra you can find. The room, the castle, seems so perpetually… black- like it soaks up every ray of light it touches. Even when you’ve finished it doesn’t feel like enough. You make a note to ask Thomas for more in the morning. 

You find a meal, carefully prepared and preserved, on a table near your dresser. Judging by the fact that it’s still warm, you conclude that it can’t be much past mid-evening. You originally intend to pick at the food as you unpack, but one bite has your mouth watering. It is the most delicious thing to ever touch your lips, complete with dessert waiting on the side. You clean your plate before moving onto your bags. 

You lay your clothes out on the bed. A few dresses, riding pants, undergarments, an assortment of ribbons and bows. At one time these items had been the finest things you owned- now you owned a castle. 

You find an armoire that looks like a master sculptor carved its edges and grab a dress, intending to hang it. Instead, your dress hits the floor when you part the doors to find the hangers already full. Your lips part. Luxury dresses of silk and satin line the rack, fading into some that appear more casual outfits of cotton and linen. You stretch a hand out, curious and utterly… amazed. To think your new husband had gone to all the effort… Your hand brushes purple silk and- 

“Do you like them?” 

You screech, jumping to face the voice at your back. It takes a moment for your eyes to find him, leaning casually against one post of your bed. Your breath is stolen for a second time. Snow white hair, piercingly blue eyes, pale soft skin… you know who he is even without looking at his dress, at the air of authority he claims. He’s your husband… and he is the most devastatingly beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. 

He laughs, then, and it’s a warmer sound than you’d thought it would be- rich and full. A sound that seeps into your bones and settles in your soul. 

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you,” he says, but the twinkle in his eyes makes you think that perhaps that’s a lie. 

Your heart pounds and your eyes flash to the door. It’s shut. You didn’t hear it open, nor did you hear it close behind him. You also didn’t hear footsteps, didn’t hear breaths, didn’t hear him. 

He follows your gaze and laughs again, though it sounds a bit… strained? 

“I have a habit of being unintentionally lightfooted. I apologize.” 

Your heart is still pounding but you find it in yourself to have some decorum. You snap your jaw shut and bow your head slightly in respect. “You must be Lord Gojo. Forgive me for my insolence.” 

There’s a beat, and then footsteps– ones you actually hear this time. You clench your jaw when he stops before you and then nearly gasp when he takes your hand and brings it to his lips. 

“Satoru, please,” he winks and you think you might stop breathing. “I am your husband after all.” 

You force yourself to nod, to swallow, to act normal. But how can you in the presence of a man that looks like… that? There’s something too unreal about him, too perfect. It’s almost… unsettling. 

“Of course… Satoru.” 

He straightens and shows you a close-lipped smile that digs a dimple into his left cheek. You have to look away to avoid stumbling over your own feet. 

“So, do you like them?” Your brows furrow- “The dresses,” he clarifies. 

“O-oh.” Your features relax into an easy smile. You turn back to your armoire, running a hand along another gown. You don’t think you’ve ever touched something so… finely made. “I like them very much. I don’t know how to thank you.” 

There’s a little chuckle as you turn to face him again and you have to steel yourself before you meet his eyes. He’s mesmerizing, too mesmerizing. You think you could probably lose yourself in those eyes forever… 

“No need to thank me. If they don’t fit, we’ll call for the seamstress in the morning.” 

You nod softly, still lost to the situation. There’s a beat of silence in which your husband does nothing but… look at you. His eyes roam freely and the hair on your arms stands under his gaze. He traces the lines of your nose and jaw and lingers on your pulse. Can he see just how fast your heart is pounding?

“Did you… get dinner?” It’s a stupid question, you know, but you don’t think you can bear another second of that look he’s giving you. “I fell asleep and found a plate. I hope I didn’t prevent a proper meal…” You trail off. Perhaps you shouldn’t have pointed out your own shortcoming? 

He gives you another smile and you swear he inches just a little closer. “You did no such thing. I’m… perfectly satisfied.” 

You nod, glad that he doesn’t seem upset at the very least. Your lips press together, unsure of what to do or say. You’ve never had a husband before. Wasn’t he supposed to just sort of… put you on the bed and… do it?

Your eyes flit to said bed and your husband must see because he hurries to continue. 

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning then, hm?” His eyes flit to your armoire and back again. “Wear the blue dress with the lace to breakfast, yeah? Been dying to see it on you.” He chuckles like he’s just told some sort of amusing joke.

Your brows furrow. That was… not the topic you’d been expecting. “You’re not…” You feel your cheeks heat and tighten your jaw. “Not staying the night?” 

His lashes lower a fraction and those eyes pierce you again. You don’t think you could move even if you wanted to, even with him prowling closer, each step eating up the space between you. He doesn’t stop until you’re nose to nose and you can feel his breath fanning over your cheeks. It’s cold somehow, chilling, and you shiver. He smirks. 

“Not tonight.” 

His head dips and for a moment you think he’s going to kiss you, but then he’s bypassing your mouth altogether and- his lips connect to your pulse. His mouth is cool, just like his breath, and you shiver uncontrollably under his touch. 

His touch is just a fleeting moment, just a wrinkle in time, and then he’s gone. His footsteps are quiet brushes on the hardwood and the creak of the door even seems tamed in his presence. 

“Goodnight,” is all he says, and then he’s gone. 

You climb into your bed an hour later wondering what in the world just happened. 

~  

You do wear the blue dress to breakfast and you can only gape in the mirror when you realize that it fits perfectly. It has you second-guessing yourself. Had you sent your measurements in advance and forgotten about it? No, you’d only sent a handful of pieces of information to the Lord prior to your marriage and you remembered all of them very clearly. Everything had gone through a messenger, everything had been clear and direct– you would have remembered sending your measurements– you didn’t. So had he just… guessed? 

That seemed impossible with how everything fit you like a glove, but it was the only explanation you had. The only one that made sense. 

When you join Satoru for breakfast it’s in a sitting room as lavishly decorated as the rest of the castle, but perhaps organized to be a bit more… liveable. He has no plate in front of him, only a tin cup that hides the contents of whatever he’s drinking. You assume coffee or juice. Perhaps he’s just not a breakfast person. 

“It fits!” he says. His hands clasp together in front of him and he smiles again, dimples and all. 

You nod and fight the heat that bubbles beneath your cheeks as you take your seat. “Yes, perfectly.”

A plate is set before you and a glance up reveals it’s Thomas serving your breakfast. You smile, hoping for some acknowledgement from him, for a small piece of comfort. Instead, you get his averted gaze and quick retreat. Your brows furrow, but before you can say anything, Satoru is back to speaking. 

“I hope Thomas treated you well yesterday?” 

You glance up, but Satoru’s eyes aren’t on you, they’re on your footman. His smile is bright, but it’s anything but friendly. You fight a shiver. 

You glance at Thomas. He’s perfectly still, perfectly straight, but you think you see a muscle clench in his jaw. You clear your throat. “Y-Yes. Thomas was very helpful.” When Satoru keeps staring the boy down you add, “-and very respectful.” 

That seems to satisfy. Satoru breaks his stare and some of the tension in the air instantly eases. He shoots you another dimpled smile, this one with a little more warmth. “Perfect.” 

There’s a beat and then he’s standing, draining whatever he has in his cup and then straightening his jacket. “Well, I have some work to do. I’ll see you for dinner?” He’s grinning again, like it’s so normal for a man to abandon his bride on their wedding night and then again the morning after. All you can do is nod. He chuckles. “See you then, princess.” And then he’s gone.

~

If this is to be your life you don't know how you will survive it. You spend the day milling about. Through the gardens, through the castle, through the stables. Thomas is never far behind, but any attempt at conversation is nipped in the bud by hit shortness. It’s like he fears coming too close. He’s never closer than a couple paces except when he has to bring you something, only to retreat again as soon as possible. The other servants barely pay you any mind apart from giving you a respectful greeting and then immediately averting their eyes. There is no work to be done, no guests to be had, no parties to plan… and no Satoru. You don’t see your husband once on tour around the grounds. You ask Thomas where his office is only for him to vaguely point out a window in the east tower. You don’t see so much as a ripple in the curtains. 

Dinner comes around at the pace of a snail. When it’s finally time to get dressed a lady’s maid whose name you don’t even catch arrives to help you lace your dress. As soon as your corset is deemed tight enough she’s back out the door with a curtsy. Thomas leads you to the dining room and your eyes roam the whole way. Even after having spent the whole day exploring, there are halls and corridors that you’ve yet to step foot in. 

The dining room is just as gorgeous as the rest of the place– filled with singular items that could feed entire families for years. Somehow, you think you’ve already grown accustomed to such things, since the only thing you truly care to look at is your husband. Satoru’s already seated, but he stands when you enter, looping around the table to pull a chair out for you. 

You give him your most genuine smile, accepting a kiss to your knuckles in greeting before you settle. “How was your day?” you ask as he takes his seat again. 

He chuckles. “Perfectly fine. And how was yours, princess?” Your nose crinkles. That’s the second time he’s called you that. Something about it feels wrong. You’re still getting used to being a lady. Princess feels even worse. 

“It was… good.”

You watch a perfect white brow arch in the candlelight. “Oh? Just good?” You don’t miss the way his eyes flicker to the corner– to Thomas. 

You hurry to elaborate. “Well, I just– I can’t help but feel as if there’s not much… use for me.” Servants flood in, some carrying wine, others carrying trays that hold more food than the both of you could ever possibly consume. 

That brow arches impossibly higher. “Use?” His lips crack into that smile again, but it’s tight this time. Too tight. “You have no use. You only enjoy yourself. Surely Thomas has told you that.” 

A plate of steaming food plops in front of you. Even its heavenly smell can’t quell the sudden dread in your gut. “Of course! Of course he did.” Your stomach twists and you decide that perhaps now is not the time to press the subject. “I’ll just… I’ll try riding tomorrow.” You hate riding, but it’s the first thing that comes to mind. 

Satoru’s smile thaws into something less menacing. “I’m sure you’ll enjoy that.” 

You nod eagerly. “I’m sure I will.” 

You grab your fork, eager for a new subject. From what you can tell, dinner is roast chicken and vegetables, though it’s the luxury version as everything seems to be. The spices are intoxicating and the green beans are even arranged in a pretty little pattern that makes them look too good to eat. You do anyway. The first bite nearly makes you moan, but you chew slowly, delicately, trying not to let your upbringing show.

It’s not until several bites later that you realize you’re the only one eating. A quick glance reveals your husband has no platter, no chicken or green beans. He’s only… watching you. You clear your throat, dabbing at your lips with a napkin. 

“You’re not… eating?”

That permanent smile grows a little wider and you can’t help but feel as if there’s something… menacing about it. “Ate before I came.” 

Your brows furrow. “Oh. Were you on the road?” 

You think you see something wild flash in his eyes. “No.” 

The rest of dinner passes slowly, almost painfully. Satoru doesn’t eat a bite, doesn’t even look enticed. You wonder how that’s possible when it smells like a spice bomb went off in the dining room. 

By the time you’ve cleared your plate you’ve discussed everything from the number of horses in the stables to kinds of crops grown on the estate. It’s comforting to know a little more about your new home, but it’s not enough. 

“Is there a library?” you ask. You’re on dessert now. It’s the best chocolate cake you’ve ever had and it takes everything in you to hold back a moan each time it touches your tongue. 

“Of course.” Your husband’s eyes flicker to Thomas again and you’re honestly starting to fear for the poor footman’s life. Everytime you ask a question it’s like Satoru is angry it hasn’t already been answered. “It’s yours to use as you please.” 

You smile lightly. “Perfect. Thank you.” 

He softens a bit at that. “Is there anything specific you wanted to read about?” 

You shrug. “The estate, I suppose. I should know my home’s history, no?”

His eyes get that wild look again, that sparkle that you know speaks to nothing good. “Oh, absolutely. I have some personal favorites to recommend. I’ll leave them aside for you?” 

You swallow and give him a shallow nod. “That would be perfect. Thank you.” 

He chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

When dessert is finally over, you stand slowly. Satoru’s not far behind you, saying he’ll walk you to your room. Your heart leaps at his words. Will he stay with you tonight? 

He offers you his arm in the hall and your mouth runs dry when you feel the corded muscle beneath his jacket. By the time you reach your room, you’re thinking of tugging him in behind you. His denial to stay with you last night was not only confusing, but… off putting. Nearly offensive. Did he not like how you looked? Did he think something was wrong with you? 

You muster all the courage you possess and force your lips apart. “Will you stay with me tonight?” 

His eyes spark again and you hold your breath. He presses closer. This is it, you think. His lips hover over yours, eyes glimmering in the candlelight. And then he dips his head, his mouth pressing to your pulse. 

“Not tonight,” he whispers– and then he’s gone. 

~

You wake suddenly. It’s the middle of the night, you gather. The light streaming through the window is weak enough to only be that of the moon. 

Your heart is pounding and your skin is slick with sweat despite the chill in your bones. A nightmare, you think. It must have been a nightmare. 

As you settle back into your sheets you swear you see a ripple in the darkness. You close your eyes. If your nightmare is real, you’d rather not see it coming.

~

The library is huge. It’s sprawling and smells of paper and leather and everytime Thomas lights a candle you flinch at the idea that one misplaced spark could end thousands of years of knowledge. 

The books Satoru left you are… perfect. Just what you were looking for. They’re all comprehensive volumes of the history of the estate, many of which reference each other. You’re stunned to see that several are written by very well-known authors of both the past and the present. You knew the Gojo family’s influence reached far, but not that far. You peruse the titles. The Gojos: A History, A History of the Gojo Crest, History of the Gojo Castle, Revisiting the Gojo Family: A Comprehensive History. Altogether you have well over a few thousand pages of information– but there’s one book that doesn’t fit with the rest. It’s relatively unassuming. A black cover with some sort of gold rune etched onto its front. When you flip to the title page it reads “Creatures of Myth and Where To Find Them”. Your brows furrow. You slide it to the side– must have gotten mixed in with the others, you think.

~

You ask Thomas to bring the books to your room. He does. Very respectfully. He sets them on your bedside table and then retreats like a kicked puppy with only a polite goodbye. You sigh. His behavior has only gotten stranger in the past few days. You think the servants’ coldness must have something to do with Satoru, but you can’t figure out why. Had he ordered them to stay away? Why would he? 

You decide it’s a question for another day and dive into your books. You spend hours, days, reading every chapter, page, and word. The pure amount of information is dizzying. Apparently this specific estate had been in the hands of the Gojo family since the eighth century (with several razings and consequential rebuilds). You also learn that Satoru was not only the most wealthy lord on the continent, but the most wealthy man. Even wealthier than the king apparently, though that fact was kept fairly under wraps to protect the crown’s ego. The estimates of your husband’s net worth made your head spin.

Satoru joins you for breakfast and dinner every day. You never see him eat a morsel. It’s… unsettling to say the least. It’s always just that tin cup, filled with something you could never quite see. You develop a pattern of waking in the night, too, with the overwhelming sense that something is watching you. Sometimes you could swear you feel the bed shift as you jerk awake. Each time you simply close your eyes and try your best to slow your heart, convinced your mind is playing tricks on you. 

Your days feel a little more productive with a book in your hands, but you’ve read them all three times over by the time a fortnight has passed. You find yourself packing them up to return to Thomas when a certain black cover catches your attention. You grab it from the pile and settle back into your seat. You’ve nothing better to do, right? 

You flip back the cover, revealing a familiar title. “Creatures of Myth and Where to Find Them”. You don’t recognize the author’s name. A quick scroll through the table of contents reveals nothing particularly interesting, but you pick a random chapter on ghouls and decide to start there. 

It’s fascinating. Nothing about the style is boring and the words fly by. Your silly little myth book is a page turner. By the time you notice the light has started dying you’ve read about ghosts, fairies, werewolves, and goblins– all of which have been a delightful little read. A glance at the clock reveals you have a half hour before dinner. One more chapter, you think. Your eyes skim the title. “Vampires [Vampyr]”. 

You skim the first paragraphs until your eyes settle on a line that catches your eye. 

“Contrary to popular belief, vampires are not always crazed blood-hungry monsters. Many live among humans quite comfortably and are able to avoid detection with a little well-placed effort.” 

You purse your lips. What a… terrifying thought. You skim a little further. 

“A vampire’s key characteristic is, of course, their desire and need to drink human blood as sustenance. However, a vampire can be spotted sooner if one is able to recognize their subtler traits. Vampires often have skin lacking any sort of flush. The lack of blood in their veins results in a sickly pallor, even after the most rigorous exercise. Their skin is also noticeably cold to the touch. At best, a vampire’s body will reach room temperature. Vampires can also be noted for their preternatural beauty. They will stand out as the most attractive person in any crowd. Finally, a vampire will have fangs. If one wishes to identify a vampire, one only needs a good look at their teeth”.

A chill settles over your skin. You flip ahead a few pages. 

“Vampires are unable to consume typical human food. Should they attempt to, their bodies will immediately reject any and all foreign substances.” 

Your stomach drops. You don’t want to think about why. You skip the rest of the paragraph. 

“Vampires possess several supernatural abilities that set them apart as a human’s predator rather than their equal. Vampires are known to move unnaturally fast and are notably light footed. If a vampire does not wish to be heard, they will not be. A vampire’s strength is inhuman, well over ten times that of the average man. They also have a penchant for darkness, an ability to hide away in the shadows that cannot be explained. Oftentimes they will seem to appear from thin air.”

You skip ahead again.

“Vampires have been known to take mates. Mates usually come in the form of another vampire, but in some cases a human has been chosen. Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly. Oftentimes, vampires make these decisions with haste, with little regard for whether or not the threat was real. A vampire will do everything in their power to please their mate, but have been known to forcibly restrain their mates in situations of unrequited feelings. Above all else, vampires wish to possess their mates. Two bonded vampires will sometimes spiral into gloriously destructive fits in their endless desire to protect and possess one another. A vampire bonded to a human will show an increasingly protective nature, often isolating their mate from others.”

Your heart pounds. A bead of sweat rolls down your back. You flip the pages, desperate– desperate for a piece of information that will save you from the thoughts spilling in your mind, from the thoughts you will do anything not to believe. You reach the “Where to Find Them” subsection and nearly gasp with relief. Surely, vampires do not pose as wealthy lords of Europe? 

“Vampires can be found everywhere. They do not exist in only one country or continent, but all over the world. Odds are that you have faced at least one vampire in your life, unknowingly or not. Some vampires choose to live solitary lives, surviving in the wilderness where human society will not attempt to tame their wild nature. Others choose to live among humans, some even existing in positions of very high authority.” 

No, no, no. This can’t be happening to you. It can’t be real. You’re dreaming, you’re having one of those nightmares again. You’re going to wake up any second. 

“One tale recounts a razing of the Gojo estate in the 12th century.” 

You’re panting, hyperventilating. This isn’t happening. 

“Soldiers of the enemy force recounted a singular man, the son and heir of the then Lord Gojo, taking out a minimum of 800 men. He was described as having his family’s characteristic white hair as well as blue eyes. Eyewitness accounts depict the Gojo heir as covered in blood and killing savagely and with inhuman strength.” 

No, no, no. 

“(See next page for only existing portrait)”

Your fingers tremble but you can’t stop them. There’s no way. It’s not possible. 

You flip the page and Satoru stares back at you. 

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You nearly scream. Your door rattles angrily, but you’re not sure you can answer it, not with the knowledge flooding your mind. The knocking continues. You run your hand over your face and smooth down your hair. You feel frazzled, dirty, despite not having moved from your chair all day. Another knock prompts you to set your book aside and stand. You do your best to compose yourself, to put on a straight face. You fail instantly when you pull back the door not to reveal your faithful attendant, not Thomas, but Satoru. 

You bite back a shriek and instead force a smile. You’re suddenly very aware of the blood pounding in you veins and of the fact that he most likely knows. 

“Hello,” he says, but his voice is lower than usually, more intense. 

You force a breath into your lungs. “Hello,” you answer, but it sounds more like a squeak than a greeting. 

Something flashes in his eyes, something familiar, something that is no longer interesting but rather terrifying. “Are you alright? You seem a little… flushed.” The concern on his face feels anything but genuine. 

“I’m fine,” you answer, but even you can tell that reply too quickly, too eagerly. You rush to cover it up. “Is it time for dinner? Where’s Thomas?” 

His lip twitches and you see a muscle in his jaw flex. “Thomas has… left us.” 

No. This wasn’t happening to you. There was no way this was happening to you. 

“He… what?” There’s an unmistakable wobble in your voice that only causes Satoru’s face to fall further. 

“It’s no matter. He’s gone. Now it’s just you and me, hm?” He chuckles and the sound rattles your bones. “In fact, I was thinking I’d cut down on the number of servants we have entirely…” 

You mind races with the memory of knowledge you wish you didn’t have. “Vampires are fiercely protective of their mates, bordering on obsession. Any person deemed a threat to their bond or their mate’s safety is usually disposed of quickly.”

You nearly stumble, but lean against the doorframe just in time. Your husband had disposed of a man, all because he brought you meals and books?

“What have you been up to today, princess?” The question breaks your trance just in time for you to see your husband’s eyes flicker behind you. 

You wet your lips. “Just some reading.” You plead that he doesn’t ask anything further. He does. 

“About the estate?” he asks. 

You nod and try to swallow the lump in your throat. “Yes.”

His smile returns and this time it’s not forced. “You got my books, then?” 

You try smiling back, but you’re fairly sure it looks more like a grimace. “Yes.”

“Anything interesting?” he presses.

This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening. Does he know? Does he know that you know? “Yes, of course. Lots.” 

He pauses and you see the debate and then the decision in his eyes. You think it’s the first time you’ve felt true terror when he meets your gaze again. “I think we should skip dinner tonight. It seems we have so much to discuss.”

You don’t even have the wherewithal to scream when he steps into you, forcing you back until he’s shutting your door behind him. He doesn’t stop there, though. He keeps pressing, keeps pushing until your knees hit the bed and you’re falling to the mattress. He crawls right after you.

“Who knew my little wife was such a reader? All those books in such a short time… You must be simply spilling with information.” 

You retreat across the mattress, squeaking when your back hits the headboard and his arms cage your waist. You’re trapped.

His hands find your hips and you’re all too aware of how cool his touch is. Even more so when he pulls you right into his lap.

“Satoru-” your voice is pitiful, breathless, and you’re ashamed to say it’s not just from the fear in your gut. He’s never been this close before, never touched you, held you like this. “Thomas-” 

“Don’t speak his name.” His face pulls into the first scowl you’ve ever seen and the sight is enough to root you to the spot. Never have you seen anything more frightening. A creature so beautiful, so perfectly angelic, filled with an insurmountable rage. It’s wrong. “He’s gone. He’ll never bother you again.” He’s closer now, his breath skating over your skin. It’s cool and now you know the reason why. 

You shake and tremble and you know– Thomas is dead. Your husband killed him– killed him for getting too close when all he did was stay at a distance. Satoru killed him. Killed him. 

He buries himself in your neck, his voice a near whine. “Thought I could put up with it, just so you’d have someone to take care of you…” He groans. “I was so wrong, princess. Couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand the way you smelled more like him than me…” 

You feel him melt against you then, relief washing over his body in a wave. “But he’s gone. And now it’s just you and me, hm? Just you and me…” He hums, like remembering that fact is all he’s ever needed.

He’s kissing your pulse again, now, and your heart is racing faster than ever. Your fingers curl into his shoulders. You should push him away, away, away. He’s a killer, of thousands no doubt. You’ve never felt at home here, never felt like you belonged. This is why. You’re not even the same species. He’s something else, something your hands were never meant to touch. 

Your mind screams at you to do go, to shove and kick at him and leave this place behind. Go, go, go your gut says… but you don’t. You can’t. It’s too… good. The feeling of his cool lips against your skin, of what you’re sure is his tongue prodding at your pulse… it’s intoxicating. He is intoxicating. How could anyone blame you for wanting more of someone, something, so divine? 

“Have you figured it out yet, love?” Your breath hitches and he chuckles, licking a long stripe up your neck, before he settles back at your pulse. Always your pulse. “I can feel those little gears turning. Tell me, what have they discovered?” 

He knows you know. But he’s going to make you say it. You swallow and feel his grip on you tighten. “You’re…” Your breaths come faster. You can’t. Not aloud. Aloud makes it too… real. 

“Yessss?” he prods. He’s licking at you again, all the way across your throat to find your other pulse-point. 

“You’re not…” Something sharps nicks at your skin and you bite your lip to hold back a whimper. 

“Go on, princess.” You think he’s just smelling you now, just burying his face as close to you as possible and taking you in. 

You close your eyes tightly, holding back tears. “Not human,” you breathe. A piece of you breaks with the admission.

He huffs a little laugh against your skin and pulls back to look you in the eye. “That’s good,” he purrs. “But I think you can be a little more specific, no?” His lips press to your chin, then the corner of your mouth, then down to your jaw… “Tell me.” 

Your lips wobble, muscles clenching tighter with each passing moment. You don’t want to say it, don’t want to speak it into existence, but you also don’t dare to disobey him. 

“You’re a…” You shake and tremble. He draws a line up your neck with the tip of his nose.

“Mhm?” 

You open your eyes, thinking this might be the last time you see. “Vampire.” 

He chuckles and you feel his teeth press to the skin of your neck. “That’s right, princess. So smart.” 

He smiles and you suddenly realize you’ve never seen his teeth before. Everytime he smiles at you it’s close-lipped and dimpled. But this… this is the smile of a predator– all white and pointy and fitted with a set of menacingly long fangs. You sob at the sight. 

“Shhhhh,” he coos. He has your chin in his hand, forcing you to truly look at him, to see him for what he is. “I won’t hurt you, love.” You want to believe him so badly it burns, but his laugh washes away any fire and turns it to ice. “Not unless you want me to.” He wiggles a brow like it’s just a little joke, like he’s not an actual fucking vampire that had his fangs over your neck just moments ago. 

“Satoru,” you beg. You’re not sure what you’re begging for. Release maybe? But, no, that’s not right. You don’t want him to let you go, not when you finally have him close after all this time. “Why did you pick me?” 

The question slips out. You hadn’t even been thinking about it, hadn’t even noticed it scratching at the walls of your mind, but it made its way out nonetheless.

His brow creases, but not in confusion. Moreso in… thoughtfulness. “Do you think about that a lot, princess?” 

You nod and you suddenly want him closer, want him to touch you everywhere, hold you like his life depends on it. You want him, no matter how horrible it might be. 

He nods and hums, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “Well…” he says. His thumb swipes over your lips when he leans in to whisper in your ear. “At first I wanted you for this.” His head dips to your neck again and you feel the familiar brush of his lips against your throat. “You smell…” he chuckles. “Like heaven. Which is a place I’ll never get to on my own, so I had to bring my own little slice home, no?” He laughs again, a little louder this time, genuinely amused. “Went into town one day and caught your scent on the street. At first I thought I must be walking past the bakery, but, lo and behold, there was no baker in sight.” He’s still kissing at your pulse, worshiping it. “Went crazy, princess. Didn’t think I was going to be able to contain myself when I found you. Thought it might be quite the scene.” He huffs a laugh and you shiver, somehow both terrified and intoxicated. “But then I saw you–” he groans and something clenches deep at your center. “And I knew I needed more than just your blood. Needed you.” He’s rocking into you now, and your breath catches when you feel something firm against your backside. “Went to you in that little room you slept in every night. Watched you. Couldn’t stay away. Knew I had to have you.” You feel him smile against your skin. “After a week I couldn’t take it anymore. Sent you that letter, married you. Made you mine.” He groans again. “Then I met you and you were so pretty, princess. Already knew it, but hearin’ you talk to me, look at me.” Teeth graze your pulse. “Needed you more than ever. Almost took you right on the fucking floor in here while you were lookin’ at those dresses.” You whine when his hips roll into you again. “Oh, but I knew I couldn’t. You’re so fragile, love. Had to wait, had to make you feel safe, yeah? Spent all this time forcing myself to stay away, ‘fraid of what I might too if I was in your presence too long. Had to control myself. Had to make you realize you could trust me.” He panting, like he’s so pent up he can hardly sit still. “Do you trust me, princess?” 

Your brows scrunch. Say no, say no, say no a part of you screams. Run, run, run. You can’t. “Yes,” you breathe. 

You feel him smile again, feel the pleasure of submission. “Good girl.” 

You’re on your back. It happens so fast your eyes don’t even have time to gasp. You don’t see Satoru, but you feel him. Everywhere. His hands are roaming your body softly, sliding under buttons and laces and popping them off. Your dress loosens with every passing moment until Satoru reappears above you, diving straight for your neck again. “So good, princess. Let’s get you out of this dress, yeah?” 

You nod wordlessly, entranced. He finds your mouth as he rids you of your clothes. His tongue presses in and you flail against him, unsure of what to do, of how to handle the intrusion. The kiss is heavy, too heavy, but Satoru can’t seem to stop. He devours you as he gives up on laces and buttons and simply shreds your dress down the back. You tremble when the cold air hits your skin, when his cool fingers dust your collarbone. 

“I always forget how many damn layers they make you ladies wear,” he chuckles. His hands run beneath your shift, up across your bare thigh. You gasp at the touch. No one has even been so close to you before. You feel the threads of your corset snapping away, feel your breaths growing deeper. You tremble when he pulls your sleeve down past your shoulder and runs his mouth along the newly exposed skin. 

“Satoru,” you gasp, and your hand pulls at his flowing white shirt. 

He chuckles, pulling back just enough to see your face. “You wanna see me too?” You nod, lips parted and eyes glassy, and he laughs again. He lips dust over the corner of your mouth. “Alright.” 

His hands shift from you to himself, working at the laces on his chest. His movements are speedy, practiced, like he’s been lacing and unlacing shirts for hundreds of years. Your throat tightens when you realize that he has. 

You gasp when he reveals himself, when his shirt slides away to reveal an expanse of pale skin and carved muscle. You’ve never seen a man like this and seeing one this close up for the first time is nearly blinding. He’s art, you think- nothing less. 

“Touch me, princess,” he says. You can’t. You shouldn’t. He’s too beautiful, too perfect to be beneath your insignificant hands. “Need a little help?” he asks, and there’s a lilt in his voice that makes you sure he’s grinning. 

His hands find yours and bring them to his chest, running your palms over his collarbones, his pecs, down, down, down across his abs that you can feel each and every one… You whimper, watching your own fingers grope his skin. He pulls you lower, lower, lower, and you gasp when your fingertips brush the waistband of his pants. But then he’s laughing again and he’s throwing your arms over his shoulders and pulling you closer, kissing your neck like it pained him to be parted from your pulse for so long. 

“Not so fast,” he says, like he wasn’t the one nearly stuffing your hands down his pants. His hands are on your corset again. You can feel it dangling onto you by a thread, literally. All he needs is a couple more pulls and you’ll be bare. By the look he gives you, you can tell he’s 

thinking the same thing. “You touch me, now I touch you, yeah?” There’s a tug and a tear and then so much… cold. You’ve never realized how cold this castle is, not until you’re exposed to its elements fully. You’re naked. 

Satoru sits back on his knees and just watches. His gaze is searing, burning, despite the iciness of his being. It’s too much. Your hands move to cover yourself, to maintain some modicum of your dignity- 

“No.” Strong hands find your wrists and pry them apart. “Let me see you,” he says. His tongue darts out to lick his lips. 

Your jaw clenches and your frame shakes, but you do as he asks, letting your hands fall limply at your sides. There’s silence for many more moments and it seems to go on so long that you can only squeeze your eyes shut under his gaze. Surely he will turn you away now, get up and leave, tell you this was a mistake, tell you that you’re– 

“Beautiful,” he breathes. Your eyes snap open to find him already staring at you. “Beautiful,” he says again, and then he’s on you, lips at your pulse, hands on your skin. His touch is cool and you squeak at the chill that runs up your spine. You’re not sure it’s entirely from his temperature. 

His mouth seeks yours and he devours you. You feel as if he’s sucking your soul out through your lips. “Tell me you’ve never done this before,” he begs. “Tell me I’m the first to touch you.” 

You whine against his mouth, both aching for more and overwhelmed by what he’s already giving you. “Y-You’re the first,” you whisper. 

His groan is deep, primal. It rattles through your chest and you whimper when his hands dig into your waist hard enough to bruise. “Yes,” he breathes, and you shiver again. “Lie back, princess.” Your eyes widen, with anticipation or fear you’re not sure. Probably both. He chuckles. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle.” 

You pray he means that. “Just relax, love. Here, hold my hand.” His fingers find yours, twining them together. When you swallow, his eyes follow the bob of your throat. He leans back again and your body twitches when his free hand skims the skin of your thighs. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as he finds your knees and you gasp when he parts your legs, revealing you so completely to his gaze. The way he stares, like he’s committing you to memory, it’s nearly enough to make you snap your thighs shut, but a squeeze from his hand reminds you to relax, to trust. 

His palm skates up your thigh and settles near your hip, his fingertips inching closer to where you can feel an embarrassing throb. 

“Tell me, love. Have you ever touched yourself here?” His fingers dust low on your tummy- just low enough for you to catch his meaning, but not low enough to give you any relief. Your face heats and your teeth dig into the flesh of your cheek. You have, you have touched yourself there, but it’s the last thing you want to admit to your new husband. It’s shameful, it’s dirty, it’s- “Don’t think I’ll judge you, princess. Just wanna know.” 

You gulp down a breath. You should come clean. “Y-yes,” you stutter, and the sound of your voice so weak and helpless only makes you flush further. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand again. “On the outside or the inside?” 

Your eyes widen. I-inside? You’d never considered that… “J-just the outside,” you answer. 

Your eyes grow even wider when his head rolls back and he moans straight up to the ceiling like your answer is heaven-sent. When he looks back to you his fangs are on full display. “Well, I think you and I are in for a little treat today, hm?” 

Your brow furrows and your lips part to ask him what he means– his fingers travel those last few inches down your tummy and find your clit. You squeak and jolt so violently that he presses a hand to your hip, holding you to the mattress. “Somebody’s sensitive,” he chuckles. He holds you still for a moment and then lets your hips go free. “Try to stay still. I promise it’ll feel good.”

You nod hopelessly, but this time you’re prepared for when he touches you again. Your muscles clench at the first touch, at the foreign sensation of a touch down there that wasn’t your own. But then it’s more. It’s languid, slow circles around a spot that you’ve never been able to pinpoint so well on your own. It’s heat building in your tummy that seeps through every vein and into every pore. It’s relaxation that you’ve never known, that has you melting into the mattress despite the chill of the touch. 

There’s a little huff of a laugh and then his voice. “Good girl. Feels nice, yeah?” You nod hesitantly and squeeze desperately at his hand, searching for an anchor. His head cocks to the side and you watch the smile slide across his lips. “It’s about to feel even nicer.” 

By the time you realize what he’s doing it’s far too late to stop him. His mouth closes around your cunt and you yelp, trying to wiggle away from the overwhelming sensation- but he’s got his freehand on your hip again and his grip is bruising, punishing, as he holds you in place. He licks a stripe through your folds and you find yourself jolting again, uselessly so against the pressure of his palm on your hip. “Stop that, princess.” Your heart drops at the admonishment until you feel his guiding touch. “Rock into me like this.” His hand rocks your hips into his mouth and the pressure of his tongue against your clit is so delicious that you whimper. “Good girl,” he says and your heart rises right back up. “Keep doing that, now.” You don’t dare defy him. You rock like he showed you, a little jerkily at first, and then you find a rhythm that has you seeing stars. “That’s it, love,” he says, and the sound is muffled against your cunt. “Here, put your hand in my hair.” He finds your wrist and guides you forward until your fingers are tangling in those snowy locks. They’re even softer than you’d imagined. “Good girl,” he whispers and suddenly he’s taking one last long lick and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “‘M gonna put my fingers in you now, princess.” Your chin wobbles. “It might hurt a little bit, but stay still, okay?” You can’t do anything but nod. 

His eyes return to your cunt and you can feel him prodding at your entrance, circling the hole as you clench in anticipation. “Relaaaaaax, love,” he says and you nod. A deep breath in through your nose and out through your mouth– 

You feel the exact moment he pushes into you and a whine of pain rips from your throat. Your walls clamp down like a vice, angry at the intrusion– but it’s already too late. There’s a beat of silence, of anticipation, and then he’s– laughing? 

Your brows furrow when you hear it, your head lifting to a sight that locks your limbs in shock. Satoru’s hand is lifted in front of his face, his pointer finger coated in– blood, you realize. Your blood. And he’s a fucking vampire. 

“Oh princess,” he coos, and the manic look in his eyes makes you tremble. “You really are perfect.” 

Things seem to slow as you watch him take his blood covered finger into his mouth. You’re sure you’ve never seen an expression more blissful, more lost to sensation. His eyes roll back and his body shivers, like he’s ascending to some higher plane. Maybe he is. 

When he pulls his finger from his mouth it’s completely licked clean. You hold your breath. He’s going to go for your neck now, right? He’s had a taste and now he’ll want more of it, all of it?

“Fuck,” is all he says. His mouth is back on your cunt so fast you don’t even see him move. 

Your mouth falls wide. It hurts, the way he is so desperately licking at you. You feel his finger again, pressing in, in, in, only to pull back and suddenly be joined by another. The stretch tears at you. You thrash and jolt, but Satoru doesn’t bother telling you to stop this time. His arm wraps over your hips, holding you in place. He seems immune to how hard your legs squeeze at his head or your hands pull at his hair. He’s lost. You can feel him licking, lapping, and prodding at you like you’re a fucking gold mine. He’s lost to desperation, to the need for more, more, more. Every so often he lifts his chin and you see his mouth smudged with a mixture of your wetness and your blood. He laps at his lips like an animal, dragging his thumb across his chin and sliding it into his mouth to make sure he gets every last drop. 

You’re not quite sure when the ravenous pain turns to a ravenous pleasure, when it turns from terrifying to downright delicious. You don’t notice your moans filling the air until Satoru joins you, groaning and whining into your cunt and telling you to keep going, to keep making those sounds. The hand you have buried in his hair doesn’t fight to push him away any longer, only to pull him into those now practiced rocks of your hips. His fingers thrust deep, curling into a spot that makes you feel so good and his mouth has found your clit again. He sucks your nerves lightly between his lips, tongue swirling in little circles. Your thighs start to shake. 

“Yes. Yes. Give it to me.” 

“S-Satoru–” you breathe. Warmth and tightness pool in your tummy, and you recognize it as your approaching orgasm, though you know this one will be far different than any you’ve ever managed to give yourself. Your body shakes and your breaths tremble and then– you fall over the edge, rocking your hips senselessly, losing all form of rhythm. Warmth tingles in your spine and seeps all the way down to your toes. You think you cry out, cry for your husband, cry for more, cry for less, but if you do you don’t hear it. All you hear is the pounding of your pulse, of pleasure throbbing in your veins until the world slowly seeps back in through the corners of your vision. 

Satoru is grinning. A speck of your blood clings to his chin and his fangs peek out from behind his lips. The sight makes your blood run a little colder. If any part of you doubted what he was before… well, there was no doubt any longer. 

There’s a shift between your legs, his hips slotting between them, and you’re suddenly snapped back to reality. From the look in his eyes, you’re not done. 

Frantic hands find his pants and he undoes each button with a quickness that is almost inhuman. You wonder if he could go even faster, if he’s holding back so as not to scare you. If he is, it isn’t working very well. Fear surges in your veins right alongside anticipation. 

“S-Satoru–”

“It’s alright, love.” His hand finds yours without his eyes ever looking up. His grip is just a little too firm, a little too cold. “Just stay still.” 

You whimper, but you don’t think he’s paying attention to that, and soon enough, neither are you. His pants slide down just past his hips, just enough. You gasp. 

You’ve never seen a man in the nude, never even dared to think about what it might look like, though it seemed you no longer had to guess. His hand wrapped around his shaft, giving one long and slow stroke that made his breath hiss through his fangs. The tip was flushed, angry, and leaking something that looked clear and sticky. You couldn’t help but notice it was a lot thicker than a finger, or even two. If his fingers had hurt…

He moves with that alarming quickness again, leaning down to hover over you, chests nearly pressed together. “Gonna take you now, princess. Gonna make you mine.” His eyes bore into yours, blue and shimmering with something wild. His hand presses into the mattress beside your head. “Stay still, now.”

It’s all the warning he gives you. You feel like you’re splitting– straight up the middle. You wail, hands flying out to claw at his back. It hurts. It hurts. 

“Satoru, p-please! It’s–” 

Lips catch yours– hungry, feral. The kiss is not gentle, not soothing. It shuts you up, it keeps you quiet, it keeps you still as you feel him sinking further, deeper into you. It’s too much, you try to say, but the poke of sharp teeth against your lips keeps you silent. Your hips jolt and wiggle trying desperately to escape the stretch but it’s no use. By the time he’s fully inside you, tears are streaking down your cheeks, fat and heavy. His lips break away and his eyes reappear. You shake when you see that none of the wildness has been tamed, that you’ve only just begun.

“Good girl,” he coos, and a cool finger traces a line across your jaw. “Took me so well.” You hold back a sob when his hips shift a little, testing, prodding. He must see the pinch of your eyes, the twist of your mouth, because he’s quick to comfort. “Just hold my hand, princess.” His hips rock in earnest this time and you whimper, squeezing down on his hand with all your might. You’re panting as he chuckles. “Breathe, love. Breathe. Soon you’ll be begging for more,” he laughs. It’s not long before he’s rocking into you sincerely, setting a pace that stretches you to the brink of breaking. At first it’s all you can do to grasp onto him, to bite your lips through the whimpers and hold his hand. And then it’s… more. It’s heat and warmth despite the coolness of his body on yours. It’s sensation and… pleasure. He laughs when the first moan slides past your lips, burying his face in your neck once again. You hear him at your ear, panting his hot breath across your skin. 

“Feel good, princess?” You nod, letting your hips rock against his as he showed you before. It feels good– it feels right. He chuckles, but there’s nothing light about the sound. “Wanna feel even better?” Something sharp pokes at the skin of your neck, hard enough to make you squeak, to make you freeze at what you know he wants. 

He pulls himself back, pressing his forehead to yours, searching your eyes with his. Something like a cruel smile dances on his mouth. “Just a taste, love. I promise it won’ hurt.” His tongue darts out and licks across your lips, his thrusts rocking just a bit faster. “You’ll feel s’ good an’ I’ll only take a little.” He laughs again and it sends a chill through your bones. “Promise.” He sounds breathless, like he’s struggling to restrain himself. The increase of his pace makes you whine and you squeeze his hand again. He buries himself back in your neck, panting. “Come on, love. Say yes. Say yes f’ me.” Your eyes glaze over. Your body justles with each new thrust. He’s desperate now, seeking a release that you don’t think is any kind you’re familiar with. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants in your ear. You’re not sure when his words twist in your mind, when they settle on your tongue and push past your lips, but you know it feels so right when they do. 

“Yes,” you whisper. 

His fangs clamp around your pulse. You scream when the sting rips through you, violent and savage– but it only lasts a moment. Pain fades to… ecstasy. You feel his throat bobbing with each swallow, feel your blood seeping from your skin and onto his tongue. You’d thought it would feel slicing, draining, like the life was being sucked from you. It doesn’t. It feels wonderful. Heat spreads under your skin, emanating from your neck and down to your toes. It feels like breathing for the first time, like sugar being pumped into your veins. It feels like heaven. Your hand tangles in his hair, holding him close. You don’t want it to stop, not ever. You could die like this, have him suck every last drop of blood from your veins and thank him for it with your dying breath. 

He’s moaning now, hands curling into your hips while he fucks into you relentlessly. The pace is grueling and brutal. You know it should hurt but only feels perfect. Anything less would not be enough. Anything else would leave you wanting. You feel it building, feel that familiar twinge at your core. The ecstasy flooding through your veins has it coming faster, has you teetering on the edge in moments. 

“Satoru…” You hadn’t noticed how dizzy you felt until you tried to speak. You wonder why… “‘M gonna…” 

He fucks you harder, something menacing and deep rumbling in his chest. The sound makes you shiver, makes you whine, makes you come. 

Your body shakes and a cry rips from your throat, cunt clenching like a vice around him. Your eyes roll back, hands scraping trails down his back. Your thighs quake with the intensity, with the overwhelming senses of pleasure that erupt throughout your body. Every nerve is firing, every hair rising. It’s an unstoppable current, one that sweeps you away, helpless to its pull. 

His thrusts grow sloppy and untimed. His grip on your hips tightens, holding you in place while he makes you his. His teeth break from your neck and when you look up through blurry eyes you see his head thrown back, your blood streaming down his chin in thick little globs. You feel it when he cums, feel the thick ropes of it seeping into your womb, feel the way he keeps fucking you, pushing it deeper and deeper inside. He’s moaning, chanting your name like a prayer at the heavens. 

When the moment ends he slumps over you, eyes half lidded and tired. There’s a familiar grin on his lips, one that inspires both comfort and uneasiness in your gut. You can’t help but stare at him, at the blood that stains his chin and cheeks, that reddens his lips so beautifully. You want to reach out and touch him, touch his blood-soaked skin and see what it feels like, what it tastes like. What you taste like. 

His eyes slide to the side, finding your pulse again. You groan. Yes, you think. Please, yes. More. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of that. Of his teeth in your flesh, of the euphoria flooding your veins. More, more, more, your mind chants. 

He chuckles lightly and shakes his head. “No, princess.” He raises a finger to trace the curve of your neck. “I took more than I should have…” His expression doesn’t tense with worry. His cheeks pull into a smile, those little dimples shining through. “But what can I say? You just taste so good.” Like he needs to emphasize his point, his tongue darts out to trace his lips, lapping up some of the remaining blood on his chin. “You taste like mine.”

You whine. More, more, more. It’s all you can think about. You lift an arm weakly. You want to pull him to your neck, to make him drink, to make him fill you with the heaven you had just moments ago. 

He catches your wrist and brings it to his lips, inhaling deeply. His lips split into another grin and you see his eyes spark again with the wildness you crave. 

“Not yet, princess.” he coos. “But soon.” His smile grows even wider, until those fangs are on full display, until you’re trembling again. “Forever,” he whispers.

taglist (dm me or send an ask to be added!): @lacheri, @la-undercover-latina, @keiva1000

please consider leaving a comment, sending an ask, or reblogging! interacting with authors is the best way to support them! thanks for reading ♡

[autumnalhalcyon]

Hello 🖐

I am ameera from Gaza, the breadwinner for my sick mother, my sister, and my brother after the death of my father due to Corona. I am an application programmer and a lecturer at the university. When the war came, it destroyed everything, my home, my university, and my work. Now I want to protect my family from danger and go out to treat my mother. And to complete our educational journey. Therefore, I ask you to help me by donating or publishing the link to my campaign to everyone.

Thank you very much 🙏🙏.

https://www.gofundme.com/f/amiras-story-between-hope-and-resilience-a-call-for-soli

Can anyone vet this? I know there was a spate of people using Gazan suffering as a tool to scam people, and I lost the post of vetted gofundmes, so if any of my mutuals have it, i would like to compare so i can be responsible about spreading the word and not potential misinfo.

[dark-moonlust]

Claimed by the Water Dragon PART 1

Pairing: water dragon x fem human reader

Summary: you decide to help your dragon through his rut. He mates you, fills you with his seed and impregnates you with his egg.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, oral (fem receiving), huge 🍆, buckets of 💦, knotting, egg laying.

This is part of a series. Read PART 2 here.

If you reblog or comment your reactions I’d be very very grateful and happy.

The sun was setting over the tranquil lake, your water dragon sitting by the shore, the sun glittering on his white scales. He was a majestic, ancient creature, a guardian of the waters, and yours. All yours. Your mate, your fiercely possessive and insatiable mate.

“Want to claim you, fill you with my seed,” he said, his tail wrapping around you, his crystal clear blue eyes locked onto yours.

Though you’d had sex countless times, he’d never mated you. Dragons mated when they were in their rut and he’d been begging you non-stop to help him out. Usually, he suppressed the urge to mate with his dragon magic but he’d been impatient lately. He begged you to mate him, to let him fill you with his seed, and after some convincing, you finally agreed.

“Very well. I’ll let you claim me.”

Silence followed your words until with an overenthusiastic jump, he flew into the air and holding you tight, he pulled you both into the water, the cold shock sending shivers through your body. The lake was deep, and he submerged you both to your home. You lived in an underwater lair, illuminated by bioluminescent plants and protected by dragon magic, allowing you to live and breathe comfortably. He carried you to your bedroom, his claws ripping away your clothes.

“Finally,” he growled, his breath hot against your neck.

“Please,” you whispered, your body wet and shivering, not from the cold but from desire. “Want you so much.”

“I’m going to fill you up,” he murmured, his long tongue licking across your neck. “Going to claim my beautiful mate.”

With that, he began to savor the taste of your body, tongue licking everywhere and making your belly pool with pleasure. You responded to him with growing need, hands touching his scales, his underbelly and wishing he was closer so you could pump his cock. His tongue licked your plump breasts, around the areolas then traveled down your belly before burying itself in your warm cunt.

Slick slurping sound and your moans echoed as he feasted on you. His textured appendage thrust deep inside you, wiggling, caressing the right spots. But he didn’t stimulate you enough to cum. He wanted to be inside you for that to happen. He wanted to feel every delicious vibration of your walls around him.

Then he shifted, his massive form looming over you, dwarfing your size. Your legs opened wide to accept him and you felt the hot pressure of his cock against your thighs. His shaft was ridged and naturally lubricated and you gasped as the broad head parted your folds, entering you in one smooth glide. His size was overwhelming, stretching you to the limits. But you were his fated mate and the discomfort quickly gave way to a delicious sensation of fullness, a deep, primal lust that left you craving more.

Your dragon thrust inside you, his cock pushing in and out of your depths. Your belly bulged with the evidence of his shaft, your breasts bouncing with each pump of his hips. He drove you higher and higher until the coil of pleasure snapped and you came with a cry, your cunt contracting wildly around his cock.

“So good for me, such a good mate”, he praised, his voice husky. “Now it’s time to fill you up.”

“Please,” you begged still in the throes of your orgasm.

The dragon’s eyes gleamed, his paws cradling you carefully as he pounded deeper and deeper, his rhythm steady and unrelenting. Then with a roar he buried himself to the hilt and stayed. Something changed. You felt fuller and you cried out as you looked at where you were joined; a knot had swelled at the slit of your pussy, locking your bodies in place. The sensation was unlike anything you had experienced and left you gasping and murmuring incomprehensibly.

“Easy, little mate”, he said softly, his tongue slipping into your mouth and brushing with yours in a kiss.

You felt his great body tense, his cock pulsing as it released, seed flowing inside you. It was a torrent of heat that filled you beyond capacity, with the knot anchoring you to him.

“Mphhh,” you moaned, squealing as he filled you up. It went on and on, but you couldn’t take much more. You couldn’t.

“Can’t—” you whimpered against his jaw, your body shaking.

“You can and you will,” he said, overwhelmed by his rut. “My seed is yours.“

“I don’t think—hn… I-I can’t take more,” you whined in a broken whisper.

“You will take all of me, little one. You are mine to fill, mine to claim.”

Seconds passed and your belly began to bulge with the amount of his seed. You panted, your whole body oversensitive yet you still took his cum, without pain. The realization was strangely stimulating. You could feel his shaft pumping inside you, spurting cum into waves.

“See? You can take it. Good girl,” he rumbled, his voice filled with dark pleasure. “So pretty, filled with my seed and ready for my egg.”

“Egg?” you pouted. “My love, I don’t know…”

“You accepted to help with my rut, mate. So you’ll carry my egg, bear my offspring. It is your destiny.”

Before you could speak back, you felt the round shape of his egg push into you. You whimpered, and thrashed a little but you were glued to his knot, unable to do anything but take it. Your body stretched to accommodate the intrusion, your mind hazy with shock, though your pussy had started to get sensitive again. And the dragon knew, careful not to hurt you with his claws, he flicked your clit, awakening your body to pleasure, driving you to another climax.

“Hn— haa!” you cried out, your voice breaking as you shattered, your cunt convulsing around his dick, euphoria blindsiding you. The dragon licked your face tenderly, his paw caressing your swollen belly.

“Yes, squeeze my knot, mate,” he rasped. “You were made for this. You are perfect, so beautiful like this.”

His egg settled inside you, his knot still hard and tight around your pussy. You collapsed on the mattress, your breath turning normal, the world coming back into focus. You had been knotted and impregnated. You’d really done it. You smiled, feeling the warmth of his seed and the comforting weight of the egg inside you.

“Relax mate. My knot will take a while to go down,” the dragon whispered, his voice a soft caress. “And once it deflates, I will take you again.”

“More?”

“More. From now on you’ll take my cock and my knot.”

You gulped at that, cunt squeezing around him.

Did you enjoy? Would you like another part perhaps? Let me know!

[inkskinned]

in the time loop the only way out is to leave her there but you don't ever leave her there, never in the roughly one thousand years you have been in the same day. it is probably like "50 first dates" but you haven't stooped so low as to watch "50 first dates" yet. (but who is to say what another thousand years of the same media will bring to you, maybe you will develop a new taste).

you spent about 200 of these years sulking in a bathtub or on the couch or staring at the seaside. 300 of them have been spent slowly mapping the geographical distance you can actually get before the time loop restarts. you have a list of favorite places: one library in Western Massachusetts called "The Bookmill", which has weird hours and has never raised an eyebrow to you arriving out-of-breath and panting, asking to see a specific book on a specific shelf. There is one beach without a name in North Carolina; it is an accident of geography and ownership title disputes - and it is pristine, untouched, warm and cozy. you've taken her on a lot of picnics there. Acadia National Park. One specific birdhouse in the mountains.

you were stuck in the time loop with the money you entered it with: not enough to rent a private jet. you've robbed a bank a few times, you don't like the way it ends. maybe next century you'll get the hang of it. you don't like the look on her face when you say hang on i have to stop at the bank.

you just have to leave her, and you can go back to being a person again. you took 5 years just catching a flight and sitting in the Grand Canyon. if there's one thing you regret more than anything, it's that you hadn't gotten your passport renewed before this fucking time loop. maybe you should spend some time learning forgery - but also, like, you look like an english teacher. nobody is going to be cool about you asking to see their paper printing machines.

the world is very big. that is one of the things groundhog day gets wrong. there are no consequences, so you have literally all the time (or none of the time?) in the world. in groundhog day, he does a lot of very cool things, but in reality - your muscle memory never gets better. you can't necessarily learn how to play piano or sculpt ice, because your hands never remember the practice. but hey - maybe you'll try violin next. drums. synth.

you can open any door and walk into any conversation. money isn't really an object. you can try every meal off every menu, forever. take her on helicopter tours and into every museum and on every event that is happening right-now at-this-moment. parades and funerals and calligraphy classes.

but you are somewhat trapped by the limitations of your body. if you were reading a book, you still need to get up and go back to the library and find that book again when the day resets. (thank god for the internet). it still takes like 2 hours to board a plane, and then takeoff and landing and traffic. you've gotten off to run around on the freeway. one of the little thankful things: since your brain isn't actually developing (it's a muscle too), the days thankfully don't feel shorter to you. that would be agony.

all you have to do to leave the timeloop is let that man get away with it. that's all. in every version of yourself - forever - you have stopped him.

the problem is that this experience has convinced you of the existence of the human soul. after all, how else are you forming memories? your very cells reset. information has to be transferred somehow. and if timeloops are real, you can convince yourself other magic exists. so you have two choices here: this hell, or the next. there might be a millennia where you have been worn down to the point you can accept fate's decision. this is just not one of them. ironically - she is the one thing you have left.

and besides! if you can't always find something new in your partner, aren't you failing them? there is something new about her, every day with the same morning. every brutal day with the same orange sunset.

after all, you wanted to live with her in heaven, in eternity, and, well - isn't this second-best.

[ozzgin]

Content: gender neutral reader, horde of monsters, mildly NSFW

You're running away from a pack of monsters and wondering how on Earth you ended up in this nightmarish scenario. Your feet are numb, your chest is burning, but you want to live another day.

The monsters are out of control, trampling over anything that stands in the way of their pursuit, ramming into each other, and trying to take each other down. This doesn't look like an organized hunt. Your ears ring from the chaotic noise following right behind you: the clash of horns, the slap of tails, the unholy screeches and growls sending cold shivers down your spine.

Suddenly, a realization strikes you. Some of the creatures seem to slow down when they're just about to be within reach, almost as if they're matching their pace to yours. Are they mocking you? Letting the pathetic human exhaust itself before the grand meal? No, their aggression is genuine. They're out for blood, except it's not yours.

They're competing for their right to breed with you.

This is their mating ritual. You've unknowingly guided a group of horny suitors with the promise of a partner. Naturally, only one of them can finish the race. You glance behind and spot the gargantuan beast that has been dutifully tracing you, as the others keep a fearful distance.

On the bright side, it seems killing you was never their intention. Though now you're dealing with other pressing matters. The moment you slow down, you've accepted your fate.

The group becomes smaller, and your muscles begin to ache. You could really use some rest. Chest heaving up and down, you collapse to your knees, trying to catch your breath, wiping the sticky sweat from your tired face.

The monstrous menagerie comes to an abrupt halt.

Very well then. You extend your arms as if you're about to be cuffed. "Take me away, officer", you manage to blurt out between huffs. A little humor can't hurt. Not as much as whatever is about to anchor itself into you, anyways.

[More Monster Stories]

[devildomwriter]

Fun Facts 621-630

• Mammon owns a book called “100 Words to Make a Human Yours” this also implies there is an interest in humans in the Devildom.

• When Mammon is deliriously angry, even Beelzebub can’t hold him for long.

• Beelzebub notes that when Leviathan is tired due to his hobbies he has dark circles under his eyes but his eyes are still shining

• When some people make fun of Levi, Satan and Mammon immediately resolve to beat them up

• When Mammon accidentally tramples an article of clothing special to Raphael, Raphael tells Mammon to accept his fate

• According to Mammon, Barbatos seems to hear any complaint about Diavolo and will come running to deal out punishment

• Poetry readings are regularly held in the Celestial Realm

• Mammon names all the partners for his in game characters after MC

• Leviathan gave a presentation to Diavolo on why high-grade professional cameras were essential to the Devildom’s growth so that Diavolo would buy one for his collection and he could borrow it

• Part of Diavolo’s job includes retrieving Devildom books that accidentally make their way into the human world

611-620 • 631-640

[sky-high-standards]

Yandere Knight x Dragon Reader

sry I haven't posted in a while my single pringles enjoy~

Yandere Knight~ Who was summoned to rescue a princess from the clutches of the most feared dragon in the empire.

Yandere Knight~ Who indifferently agrees and begins his quest.

Yandere Knight~ Who charges to your land on his trusty steed and is then face to face with you your scales shimmering and your eyes burning with fury you were much more magnificent than he imagined...

Yandere Knight~ Who fought well bravely and was about to take the final blow ready to launch his lance into your throat when suddenly you transformed into your weakened part human form stopping him in his tracks.

Yandere Knight~ Who's eyes widened at the sight of you, you were gorgeous much more beautiful than any princess could ever be he took a moment to take in your form as you struggled to stay standing your wings spread and your fiery eyes glaring into his waiting for him to take the blow.

 Yandere Knight~ Who cautiously approached you and watched you sit there accepting your fate and smiles slightly as your eyes open confused as he caressed your cheek and horns muttering to himself.

"Ethereal..."

Yandere Knight~ Who is startled when you growl and fly away, and his eyes linger on your now distant form and internally groans when the princess runs out and throws herself at him as he fights back the burning urge to throw her off.

Yandere Knight~ Who confronts every dragon ologist to learn as much as he can about your kind, He has to know every detail about his new beloved after all.

Yandere Knight~ Who finds out your love for precious objects and always comes to your land leaving treasure and jewels behind picturing how lovely you'll look in them.

Yandere Knight~ Who outright refuses the kings proposal for him to marry the princess as a reward for saving her his mind only occupied with how stunning you looked amongst your flames.

Yandere Knight~ Who makes sure no other knight is sent anywhere near you he can't have anyone else seeing your beauty or attempting to slay you.

Yandere Knight~ Who's attempts end up being futile and is sent with troops to slay you once and for all.

Yandere Knight~ Who is furious to see the last remaining knight standing over your weakened for with his sword raised ready to finish you off.

Yandere Knight~ who charges and kills the knight slicing his head clean off with a sick smile as he watches it fall at your feet seeing your frozen expression as he caresses your face with his bloodied hands.

“No one will ever hurt you my treasure I’ll be the only one who knows your true beauty, and I’ll never let anyone else see it~”

y'all can read my new yandere dragon x knight reader

[sweet-as-an-angel]

Zombie! MW2 w/ a Human Sex Slave

Warnings: 18+, Monster Fucking, Zombie Fucking, Implied Initial Dubious Consent, Stomach Swelling, Cum Inflation, Unprotected Sex, Brief Worry of Infection, Rough MW2, Gentle MW2, Zombie! MW2, Human! Reader, Sex Slave! Reader, Captive/Captor Relationship, Implied Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapping, Descriptions of Smut, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Zombie! MW2 who found you scavenging alone one day out in the wasteland, entirely unaware of their presence.

Zombie! MW2 who capture you soon after, not ones to waste time.

You were the first lone human they’d seen in months, and they’d be damned if they were going to let you slip through their fingers.

Zombie! MW2 whose intentions with you are unclear. Until you notice the bulge in their trousers and the purr in their groans as they watch you writhe against the restraints, watch you helplessly struggle against a fate they’ve already decided for you.

Ghost, König and Soap are the roughest with you, often the ones to just tear a your pants off when they’re desperate, filling you not long after.

They’re rarely gentle, instead opting to take you raw and use you for their own ends, slamming their hips into yours until you hear them release a guttural roar, emptying days’ worth of semen inside you.

Your first time with Ghost almost left you feeling like you were about to burst with how backed-up he was, his balls almost bursting and slapping the skin of your backside red and raw with each thrust.

He’d made sure to leave his mark on you, the prominent bulge in your stomach slowly deflating as his semen leaked out of you.

And while Soap and Ghost’s loads are somewhat palatable given how frequently they use you, König almost always leaves you feeling like you’re about to burst.

Given his height, he’s the biggest of all your captors. Not only that, but his cock is thick enough to leave you feeling like you have rocks in your stomach whenever he forces himself into you, his strokes long and pounding, making sure you feel every inch of him.

Price, Gaz and Alejandro are a lot more gentle, understanding that, while you’re human, you’re still fragile.

They’re soft and slow with their thrusts, giving you time to adjust to their size before continuing.

While they can’t talk, they do try to comfort to as best they can.

They’ll stroke your head, press their forehead to your shoulder (only to feel you tense beneath them, anticipating a bite) — anything to try and make you feel less like you’re a sex slave and more like a friend with benefits.

Of course, you worried the first few times they had their way with you that their pumping you full of their seed would infect you, turn you into one of them.

However, after weeks went by, you were still you. No rotting skin, no cannibalistic thoughts, no loss of autonomy.

But, much to your horror, you felt as if they’d infected you with an idea, a feeling.

That being that you enjoyed what they were doing to you, ravaging you, pumping you full of their load until they were satisfied and your stomach was swelling.

And while your sanity tried to reason your way through your acceptance — that you were being held prisoner by literal parasite-infested corpses — your mind, for better or worse, didn’t care.

Not when they were providing for you, bringing you food, clothes, blankets — things you were certain would be nigh impossible to obtain were you roughing it alone in the wastes.

Or, perhaps you were rationalising your willingness to stay here with them, to live as their human sperm bank, reduced to an existence of bending to the will of militant captors whose semen dripped down your thighs, whose hands forced your face into pillows or made you bounce on their cocks while looking at them, giving you a glimpse into their eyes, the people they once perhaps were: whose surprising stamina and strength left you whining, crying and almost begging for more whenever they finished, more often than not forcing orgasms out of you, too, making you push back into them, body willing to take every ounce of their cum and inch of their cocks.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

[suiana]

(yandere! polar bear hybrid x gn! reader) (CW: slight gore description/murder description)

if it's brown, lay down.

if it's black, fight back.

and if it's white, say goodnight.

especially if it's a male hybrid who developed an infatuation with you.

"shit shit shit! get away!"

you scream at the polar bear hybrid, running away as fast as you can. your lungs burn, chest heaving as you hear the male hybrid chase after you.

you were a researcher sent to antarctica to research about the wild life and how they coped with climate change. you saw arctic foxes, penguins, seals, all of which you were ecstatic to see. they eere just the cutest after all!

unfortunately, you had also garnered the attention of a polar bear hybrid.

you knew that polar bears were carnivores. you knew that it was dangerous. but you were curious about him, especially because he looked friendly. you should've turned your back on him and ran away when you had the chance.

you first met him a few months back when you were observing some seal hybrids that came up to land to bounce about. he was standing a few feet away from you, your eyes wide as you felt your heart freeze up.

you had thought you were going to die that day. after all, meeting a polar bear was not a coincidence. not with their keen sense of smell and their history with hunting humans down.

but you saw him outstretch his hands towards you, holding a fish as his cheeks flush red, trying to communicate with you with random sounds.

"for me?"

"n...ngh..."

he nods his head, trying to nudge the fish towards you. you were hesitant to accept, but you eventually did. which led to you two talking often, growing closer and closer by the day.

you had taught him english, basic english at the very least so you two could communicate. he was eager to learn, listening intently. and in return, he taught you about himself and his way of life. much was gained from your exchanges with one another.

you found him endearing with how he always chirped and repeated your words, english rolling off his tongue with a heavy accent. you thought it was cute for him to call you 'his' and for him to say he loved you.

rightn he was just testing out new words! perhaps he found it interesting to say and repeat like a newborn child! that's normal, isn't it?

"love... love. mine."

"yeah, you love me, don't you?"

you tease, bumping his shoulder as you teach him a few new phrases, not noticing the faint blush he always had on his ethereal features. he probably meant it in a joking or friendly manner after all.

little did you know, he was not joking when he constantly told you he that he loved you.

nor did you remember that he was still a hunter at heart.

"a-ah!"

screams of pain awoke you from your deep slumber that fateful night. you immediately sit up in your bed, looking around before quickly wearing your thick coat and venturing out of the research base. what was that shouting? did your fellow researchers see something crazy?

well, you definitely did.

and it was a horrific sight. the sight of your polar bear friend ripping one of your researchers to shreds, scarlet blood staining his skin as he rips the poor guy to pieces. that's not even the worst part, for you saw two of your other team members laying not too far from the polar bear hybrid, bodies unoving and mangled beyong recognition.

you instinctively let out a scream at the sight, eyes widening as you bolt out of the base. your heart thumped loudly with each step you took, tears brimming at your eyes as you hear the polar bear hybrid chasing after you.

was he hungry? did he finally decide that he was going to kill you?

no, it was a fate far worse than that. and you finally realized that as the weight of what he called you hits you hard.

"mate! no run!"

he shouts at you, chasing after you on all fours as you run away as fast as your human body would allow you to. adrenaline ran through your body as you did your best to escape nature's natural hunter. but it wasn't enough.

"shit shit shit! get away from me!"

you shout, whimpering as you trip on your laces, falling face forward into the cold snow. you immediately try getting back up to run away. but by the time you pushed yourself up, the hybrid was already standing over you, eyes filled with an expression you wished would not exist.

obsession.

"mate... mate... scared? no need scared... no hurt mate."

he mumbles gently, face softening as he bends down beside you to rub your cheek reasuringly. but it was hard to be reassured with how his mouth and body was stained with your team members blood.

"n-no don't touch me! you're going to kill me too aren't you?!"

you shout, shivering as you try backing away from him. your words cause the hybrid to pause, his sharp eyes narrowing at you as his grip on your face tightens ever so slightly.

"said... won't hurt mate. no scared."

he mumbles, staring at you before pressing his forehead against yours.

"only get rid of trash."

he sighs happily, looking at you with adoring eyes before rubbing your cheek with his thumb.

trash?

your heart stopped at his words, realization settling in. shit, so he wasn't lying when he said he loved you, nor when he was saying he only wanted you to himself.

you could've prevented this.

you.

could've.

prevented.

this.

guilt seeps into your veins, tears finally rolling down your cheeks as you let the polar bear hybrid cradle your body in his arms.

"no... you didn't have to kill them-"

you sob, weakly wiping away your tears as the male tilts his head at you. confused, he doesn't understand why you eere crying or why you wished for him to not killyour teammates. why was his mate so sad? he should probably cheer you up!

"mate no cry... why? was... going to eat them since start. was watching you since the start. hate the way you always go back to... them. mate is mine since then. since mate... take offering."

the male hybrid says in an attempt to reassure you. but obviously, it did the opposite of just that.

oh. so he really was watching you since the beginning. that offering with the fish wasn't just him being curious. did he fall for you at first sight? shit, you knew you should've just ran away at the sight of him!

"the fish was an offering?"

"yes. offering for mate."

he nods his head, smiling slightly as he reminisces his first actual meeting with you. after all, he had been observing you for quite a bit before that. he just finally got the courage to meet you that day! and you accepted! unknowingly of course.

you look away from the hybrid, shaking slightly as some of the guilt leaves your system. ah, so maybe this wasn't fully your failt. you couldn't have predicted that it was actually an offering, could you?

"bring mate home now. mate tired."

the polar bear hybrid hums, goving you a bloody smile as he stands back up, cradling you in his arms. but you start flailing about, squirming as fear enters your mind. wait what? home? were you getting kidnapped by him?

the male says nothing for a bit continuing to walk back in the direction of his home. but as you continue to struggle and shout at him to be let go, his patience grows thin and he looks down at you with a warning look.

"stop moving."

he grumbles, glaring at you as he grips you tightly. blood drips down onto your face as he talks, your eyes widening in fear before you quietly obey not wanting to upset him.

no, you were just reminded of how brutal he could be. and you didn't want to be at the end of his anger. not at all.

the both of you remain quiet for a bit, the only sounds being heard were the sounds of his feet coming into contact with the snow with every step he took. thatw as until he broke the silence.

"love mate. mate so precious."

the hybrid mumbles, looking down at you with a longing expression before he sighs softly.

"mate mine now. all mine."

he giggles, cradling you closer to him before stopping in front of an igloo looking thing. was this his home? you weren't sure, but seeing as he was staring at it, it most likely is.

"temporary home. will build mate nicer house soon."

he mutters, placing you down on a makeshift bed made using... what looked like seal and fox fur.

you sit uncomfortably on the fur, not moving as the hybrid sits down beside you, holding you close to him. silence fills the air as he looks at you fondly, not saying anything at all.

he leans his head against you, rubbing your hand affectionately before sighing again.

"love forever. only us."

he mutters before pressing a blood stained kiss onto the back of your hand. you could only stare quietly, unsure of what to say. on one hand, you didn't love him. i mean he's not even fully human! but on the other hand... you didn't want to trigger his anger by trying to escape or refuse him.

oh well, you guess this is your new life now.

[mynameisjag]

Because I just remembered, as author, I have power to do whatever the hell I want in fanfiction. The only powers in the universe that can stop me is my terrible ADD and terrible sleeping habits.

It’s a sequel to ‘Mistaken for Wolverine's and Wade's possible kid.'

There was a possible feral child running around with claws and a smart mouth.

“We'll take him home, keep him in the bathroom for a little while so Laura can get used to his scent and then slowly introduce them to each other.”

“…they aren’t cats…”

“Right, weasel family, close enough.”

Logan rolled his eyes with grunt, the smell of crushed ice and iron filling his nose, they had been following the kids scent for awhile now, enough for a quick change out of uniform to throw on street clothes.

Wade had thrown on an over large sweater with the hoodie pulled up with a face mask and glasses, Logan himself was dressed in one of his flannels.

“We look like the Unibomber and the Bounty Paper mascot have decided to go on a date at the local market.”

They were close, the tracks had lead them to a more public place, a small outdoor fruit market, but there was no sign of white hair anywhere. Though that didn’t matter if the kid could go invisible.

They were close though…

“So what’s the bet that baby wolvie can change his appearance to fit in?”

“Hmm?”

Wade nudged their shoulders together as he gave a subtle nod over to the next stall, black hair, blue eyes, different clothes…but the smell remained the same…

“Oh, boy, whoever made this designer baby knew what they were doing, still has those sharp claws and cute little fangs you both share. Congratulations to us? What we naming him?”

“Wade.”

“Right, assuming gender, my apologies.”

The man actually snorted in brief amusement, getting what he knew was a wide grin even if it was covered up, he rolled his eyes as the usually red covered merc grabbed his bicep, “He could be a Void escapee, I don’t smell any other human smells on him, let’s stay up wind right now.”

Wade gave the arm he was attached to a small squeeze, “Led the way Mr. Paper Picker Upper.”

They moved slowly through the crowd, eyes on the kid but still keeping a distance incase he picked up the super senses trait.

Lightly clawed hands were picking up apples, sniffing them then placing them down, head would tilt and the ears would twitch, he was still listening for any kind of disturbance. Eyes would focus on a fruit, then dart to the side, still wary and still watching out.

“The face shape and features are the same…need better proof though.”

“Lucky you and the need for the plot to move forward, looks like someone has itchy knuckles and a case of peekaboo.”

Sure enough, one hand was rubbing at the knuckles were a slight sheen glinted in the sunlight before disappearing.

The kid was frowning down at his own hands, distracted enough to not notice Wade casually stroll up behind him, “Baby boy, is that you! You’ve been gone for two years! We thought you were dead!”

Logan sighed tiredly, accepting his fate as he watched his partner throw his arms around the child in a crushing hug, wailing dramatically how they would be so much better parents now, they would support his interest in professional knitting and how dare he leave with a note written in cursive.

Phones were out, people were clapping over the tearful reunion, the poor kid looked shocked to be manhandled over to him by Wade.

“It’s your Daddy, I know he is currently cosplaying a lumberjack, but he’s still the asshole we love.”

Logan could only shake his head, letting out a huff before staring down the kid, “Ready to have that chat?”

Bright blue eyes glared up at him on a level of unimpressed that only teens could reach, “I don’t know, are you ready to go save Goldilocks, I think you better go off and get lost in the woods looking for her.”

“Oh, he is just the Sassiness! He gets it from me, I swear! Just an absolute deee-light!"