enchantingarcadecreation

[enchantingarcadecreation]

The dad gets me annoyed and so does Melanie. It’s really good

⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕Neglectful Fae King⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕⁕

Inspired from a drabble from @thecloudsaremyhome about a Yandere Fae King post and I utterly fell in love. Lowkey in my Yandere Neglectful era, please do enjoy!

On the stone laden sill you rested your head letting the midday breeze kiss your face. If you closed your eyes you could pretend it was your mother’s. Though in truth she was much warmer than any wind much more of a loving smother like a blanket over your head on a chilly night. She was perfect to you that way—is perfect that way. The current situation regarding your sweet mother left this slight reprieve in your new makeshift room. The silken canopy above your bed was replaced with a thin green tulle with glittering pink rubies. The gift from the palace staff made the room nicer, almost as nice as your noble colleagues whose rooms were triple the size of this one. The furniture was modest, the prestige of your mother’s family heirlooms left to dust in the separate tower you typically called home. Weirdly enough it helped that you weren’t in the comfy, spacious place you were used to for it’s warmth would be all but lost without your mother’s presence. For now you’d have to find some kind of peace in this new place for your mother’s sake more than your own. With a slam of your door your peacefulness and new sanctity  in your life is destroyed by the door. That and your father shouting. “Why would you do such a horrible thing to my wife?!”

You don’t move from your spot at the window. Certain you’ll lose your resolve if you come face to face with the rage-filled beast,“It was just a bit of tea, she’ll live.”

The sound of the seldom used desk and chair clattering to the ground took your place as he continued,“But you know how fragile humans are! Especially while pregnant with my heir!”

Alas the glass of the window you opened refused to completely deprive you of your punishment; the reflection of your father in view, transposed on the glass that showed the clear blue sky. He was pointing angrily at your back, his cheeks small and shaped along his jaw where an angry red,“ She is doing you a favor! You should be grateful that she even cares to know you!”

Like an arrow made of Enchanted Cacti his gaze finds yours in the mirror inflicting the poisonous glare of ever-growing disgust. His anger ricochets through the reflection and the crash of a single vase filled the room. Along with the aggressive reopening of the creaky and old door the King, your Father shouted once again.

“Spawn of a thorn!”

The insult hung odiously in the doorway as the King disappeared within the stairwell, his angry stomping echoing against the stone walls with a painful reverb. He was gone. Finally, returning the room to the haven it was meant to be but the ones you were most familiar with came without care. Clouding the cerulean sky and the reflection of your pitiful state in the window’s reflection. In an instant you darted down the same stairwell turning into the room two flights below to release into a modest but private medical ward. The one your mother in her comatose state was daily cared for. 

The few staff that were in attendance were busy, walking in and out of the room intermittently. By now they hadn’t bothered to fully bow but lightly bob their heads before continuing on. Offering nothing but a pitied glance as you crashed into the bed, sitting at your mother’s side. Taking her limp hand into your own placing them on your crown and weaving her fingers into your strands. Allowed to rest your head into her soft side, you welcomed those familiar streams and let them soak her side, as you did when she was awake.”

“Mom what do I do? Without you I can’t do this much longer.”

You mumbled some more, incoherently into her bosom. Hoping that if she has a will of her own she’d be hoping to hold you tight as you shared your worries. Before you’d realized it the sun was well into setting, the owls and nocturnal critters coming to life outside and the rest of the palace beginning to slow down.

Which could only be the reason you weren’t warned of another visitor entering the room.

“Hi (Y/n), I came to give your mother some flowers.”

Round and dressed more opulently than a cake was the King’s New Human Concubine: Melanie. Brown eyed as a bear and black wavy hair as dark as tar with a smile much too wide for a human of her caliber in reaction to you–the child of an Elven Queen. In her hands she held a small bouquet of dethorned Majinn Bells, the flowers hang antangonisticly their mildly poisonous stamens peeking out. 

Like a rabid dog a memory comes quickly. The scene is set in the rarely tended to garden of your mother. The overgrowth of vines reaching past the stone wall up to the sky, the lightly enchanted flowers decorating the wall and the ground in an array of colors. Your mother typically pointing out the different glowing bundles, her colored pointer finger starting from your nose to the petals of the flower she chose. That day it was a weed. A Majinn Bell. She didn’t bother waiting for the gardner’s assistant or a passing maid plucking the flower herself. 

“My rose, this is Majinn Bell a weed disguised as a flower, for it’s very life blood is to poison all it grows near and whoever’s plucked it. Do be careful not to let Majinn into your garden my love.”

“Yes, Mama.”

Over the course of the day her hand had curled on itself covered and bubbled with hives. A pain that went untreated for an entire month. It all rang as a vital symbol as the human woman obliviously offered a wretched gift. 

You didn’t bother acknowledging her, scoffing with your back turned.

“She hates the Maginn bells most.” 

She was floundering, her mouth likely flapping around nothing of value. Still she invites herself in handing the bouquet to a poor ungloved maid and settles herself into the chair on the opposite side of your mother’s bed. She offers a soulless pat on your mother’s arm, that makes you bristle with disgust. Finally you look at her to deliver an unadulterated glare as she retracts her hand to rub at her belly,“Just know that I want us to be close, I don’t think I can raise this little one on my own.”

She chuckled at her own sentence, looking down at her belly like it was something great. You wanted to throw up.

“You won’t be on your own you have the King.”

You turned your attention back to your mother, dabbing a towel at the minor sheen of sweat at her brow. A much nicer past time then entertaining this human woman who has been insistent on talking to you,“But theres nothing more important than a good big sibling, with being the only human child around they’ll need someone to play with–”

You interrupted her,“I heard the wet nurse has a child around 100 years old already that should be good enough.”

She was trying to speak again. Something about friendship and the incoming baby. It was all so irritating. You hated to let your personal bias as a different species change your view on the entire human race but Melanie made it hard. When she spoke more and more did it sound like she was worse than pots and pans being banged against one another. All you could hope for was that her small round ears could hear you and finally understand.

“No. No. I don’t want to be your friend. I don’t want to be a family with you. You keep stealing everything from my mom. From me. Hope you love that baby because I hope it dies.”

Everything stops. The maids. The nurse. The guards that hover near Melanie. Even the human’s jaw drops. The room becomes impossibly silent, like awaiting for the blade of a guillotine to fall and perhaps that would’ve been your fate if not for destiny stepping in. 

“Honey please–” Melanie’s own screams interrupted her rebuttal. The splatter of water underneath her and the sudden urgency from all in the room. Escorted to some previously specially chosen room seemed like the final nail in the coffin. 

The last time you would be referred to as the heir of the Elven Kingdom and the last time you could’ve had your father even dare to care for you. Alas that was over now that Melanie’s ownership of your father is completed.

“Oh Mama what will we do?”

⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁌⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍⁍

The King thrust the kingdom into a week of celebration, for finally, he had an heir he was more than happy to leave the kingdom to. The whispers of the noble class couldn’t eclipse the joyous celebration that the King was indulging in. It was only at the end of said week that he bothered continuing the conversation of the other child with his beloved Melanie who refused to drop the topic.

The couple was finally left alone. Festivities and appearances all ended, allowing the King to return to his natural state: A troubled man with two wives that was consistently plagued with obstacles to the joyful existence he wished to lead. King Edren paces back and forth along the woolen carpet as if that would null the swell of magic as he got angrier. “My love, why would you want that child to stay?! After what they said?! Don’t you worry for our son?”

Melanie was sitting up in their bed, cradling her sleeping second child tightly. Her distress affected both males in the room as she lightly rocked the stirring babe, “Yes, but don’t you worry in the long run? For the kingdom? If you give the title to our child, they’ll be hated by all of faekind and who better to overthrow them than your other child–”

“Then we get rid of–”

“NO LISTEN TO ME!” Her voice exuded the authority of maternal proportions. The horror of his suggestion igniting Melanie’s drastic plea demand. “If you kill them, what would your people think? You’d be a monster even I couldn’t bare to love. Would you do that?! Make yourself unlovable to me?!”

Edrin searched for a break in his wife’s glare only finding the opportunity to ruin the love of his life. The thought of enchanting his human wife dawned upon him but his own magic shook at the weight of her threat. Unless he’d like to incur a curse himself he has no choice but to attempt to appease his wife.

“Fine but this is only for you and him.”

He kissed the dewy head of his newborn, who finally quieted down along with his mother. Satisfied with her terms Melanie let herself begin to rest. Finally she’d have all she ever wanted.

The following evening, Edrin scheduled a dinner that demanded the presence of all his immediate family. All the ones that were actively eating without a tube. He was informed in passing that his other child had put up quite a fight, sending one of their escorts to the hospital. Edrin sighed and rolled his eyes, turning back to make sure his wife and baby were settled. His son was in a bassinet, awake but happy to look over its golden, draped barriers at the dinner table where his family resided.

Melanie didn’t bother returning the kisses of her husband, instead pretending to check on her son as she eagerly looked at the door. Finally the giant oak doors opened to reveal you, lightly covered in mud and being pushed through by a guard who was no worse for wear. The guard wore a green tunic, decorated with silver trimmings dirtied with flecks of mud and torn at the ends, a small elven child could reach at. 

Nonchalantly, you slid into your chair, waving deviously at the shivering guard, who left shortly after bowing to the King. Melanie perked up with a renewed smile, the beginning of her dreams finally coming true. 

“Good evening (Y/n), I heard you played in your mother’s garden all day.”

You dared to look at the woman, lip curling at the baby cooing beside her from the bassinet. The disgust on your face was unhidden. But you didn’t bother with a response as you picked up the fork and poked at your food. The only thing heard was the clinking of the fork, which allowed for the tight thread of tension to be set. 

SLAM

The King slammed a fist into the table, making everyone else jump. 

“Your Other-Mother is speaking to you. Respond!”

A glare of warning flashed on Melanie’s face that Edrin caught instantly. Thinking it was for the aggressive tone he spoke with and the slam of the table, the King straightened up. In truth, Melanie was more peeved that he used the term ‘other’ more than the volume. Her son also didn’t seem to mind, instead watching the smallest elf he’d been allowed to see since he’d first been brought to the light of day.

He’d also bear witness to the first glare of hate since blurry shapes had no longer been that way.

 “Guess it didn’t die.”

Melanie felt her heart drop.

“Excuse me?”

Edrin’s posture curled along with his hands scratching grooves into the table as he stood. His face full of blood as he yelled, “WHAT DID YOU SAY?! YOU BEGOTTEN CHILD OF A—” The King of the elves proceeded to curse in an ancient Elvish tongue. A language no longer written within any books, even the guards standing post, shuddered. The tongue in which her husband spoke was lost to Melanie, so she looked to you in hopes of deciphering something from your rebuttal. 

She watched your lip quiver and your eyes widen as her husband’s tirade continued on. She watched as your eyes became clouded with a glittering gold, streams falling to the table, hardening in an instant. She stood on instinct, a hand reaching out but falling short as you stood from the table and ran. The sound of soft footsteps tapping against the stone floor. 

The King stopped as he once again heard the cries of his son. Turning to his family, he attempted to comfort them, bringing his arms up to circle around his wife and child, only to be slapped away. 

The harshness behind it was lost on him, but the intent was real and the one who’d initiated, radiated an anger the King of Elves shuddered to accept. 

Melanie’s ears were the slightest tinge of red as she roughly cradled her child. Her brows were brought together, her expression tighter than anything her husband had seen before ,and if he could help it never again

“Go to them. Otherwise, you can forget that large family you hoped for.”

Edrin suppressed the urge to groan; still, he stood and made his way out of the grand dining hall. Once those oak doors shut, the King had to stop for a moment. The running elf was nowhere to be seen, and Edrin knew not where they might’ve gone. So with helplessness, he was prepared to return to his wife, admit defeat, and possibly lose his chance to ever sleep in his own bed again, but the fates smiled upon him yet. The sight of golden tears hardened along the floor, the King felt his triumph return once more.

Following the tears, he was led to a part of the castle he’d forgotten. In the space shared between the main castle and the estate he’d sent undesirables to was a garden. Overgrown and frankly ugly, but there were quite a few bundles of flowers, ones that couldn’t exist without some form of care. A magenta bud caught his eye, and it’s siblings traveled within the interwebs of the vines along the wall that separated the castle from the Fae’s Forest. And sat along the wall was none other than you.

Edrin didn’t care that he could hear the light plops of hardened gold falling on the grass below. He shouted, “CHILD, STOP THIS FOOLISHNESS THIS INSTANT!”

You turned to glare at him before dropping into the high grass on the other side of the wall. Edrin sucked his teeth, signalling his guard, who had been trailing behind.

“Get my horse. I’m conducting a hunt.”

And a decent hunt it was. 

The King was saddled on his trusted steed as he rode through the Fae’s forest. The territory was unclaimed officially, but it held the entrance to the world of the Faeries. An entrance to the faerie world was filled with the various traps and tricksters that were eager to inconvenience all who entered. A pain to the distant and more sophisticated cousins in the kingdom outside. 

Edrin scoffed, slicing at a small pixie that floated near him. His violent movement startled the forest’s pixies, which illuminated the forest in a sickly green; unknowingly lighting the tracks a scared elven child made. He encouraged the Mare beneath him to trot forward, seeing the softness of the dirt. The tracks were fresh, and his prey was close.

As predicted, he found you, doing your best to waddle through the foliage like a grounded duck. He didn’t care to call you, instead instructing his horse to run ahead and turn around abruptly. The action alarms the swarming pixies, but you too, allowing the King to reach down and snatch you by the collar. 

He planned to hold you firmly, like a goose, under his arm, but unlike his usual prey, you were alive. And a squirming prize was a nuisance to ride with.

“Quiet child, are you a worm or a royal?”

He curled into himself at the pain of teeth piercing his underarm, his grip loosening as your wriggling intensified. 

“I figured I was a bit of both, thanks to you.”

Edrin wasn’t unused to to insults but he was consoled by smiting the ones who did so with his sword. While he thought to grab the weapon at his side, his arms were occupied with keeping the child on his horse. With all the fighting, his frustration had grown and his patience thin so with little remorse, he released his grip and let the child tumble from his horse. With a smirk, the King expected tears, but instead, he unsaddled from his horse when he found the child running again. In less than a few steps, he was upon you again, holding the leg protruding through the bush.

Edrin growled and pulled the rest of the child out,” Can’t you behave for just a second? Why must you be as difficult as your mother?!”

That earned him a kick to his face. His nose was throbbing, but the glare he received was full of a hatred he’d never received from any within his ranks.

“I HATE YOU! You’re the worst father, the worst husband, and I wish you died like that baby!”

Each was punctuated with a punch. Light because of the fist it was from, but heavy in its intention. For once, water beads on the side of the king’s head, the shiver traveling up his spine and making his heart beat erratically. 

For once, the King feels as though he’s made a mistake.

Swiftly, he holds the child by their wrists at a distance so that their legs no longer reach. Edrin bends down lower, facing the glare of the child head-on. Hoping if anything that the truth he spoke would be understood. 

“You should know better than to wish death on anyone. With your lineage, it could be a death sentence.”

The child’s glare loosened, and their fists were no longer balled. A new look took over the child’s face. A perpetual disgust emanated from their eyes as they easily pulled away to stomp further into the forest. 

Edrin followed, allowing the sullen, ugly feeling of a budding realization. 

He may have failed in his first attempt at fathering a child.

Thinking back to what must have been your birth, he’d purposely taken a mission to travel abroad—a fortification of the border—he called it. Avoiding the responsibility of ushering the kingdom in the welcoming of the first royal newborn. He’d burned the letters that woman had given him, slaughtered the carrier pigeons that came, and plugged his ears when the royal messenger had come. 

In the dark of the night, an embarrassed blush overtook his face. Watching the head of a child that barely reached his waist. It baffled him that he’d lost track of when he was even informed that an heir had been born. Dutifully ignoring the woman who bore them for a minor battle he could have won in his sleep. 

“You know your mother was chosen by my parents.” He tried to rationalize, as if that would excuse his neglect. “I didn’t choose her. Not like Melanie.” 

He expected the child to stop and turn, looking wide-eyed and hurt at this revelation, before apologizing for their bad behavior. 

But they didn’t.

Only lightly tossing a plant they’d been fiddling with behind their head and at the boots of the king. Shrugging nonchalantly, “I know that. It’s also why you never chose me, cause you hate me too.”

His cheeks burned hotter, his garbs felt too tight, and his heart once again adopted a violent beat that left Edrin gasping,“....I don’t….hate you in particular.”

The child slid down a hill, expertly skidding to a stop at the edge of a lake, casually settling into the dirt. They looked over their shoulder at Edrin, who was struggling not to slip on the mud, waiting until he stood and pretended as though he wasn’t covered in dirt.

“Yeah, you do….you don’t even know when my birthday is.”

“Ah ha, that’s where you're wrong. I recall it is the celebration of flowers. That is when.”

“It was a week ago.”

“Ah.”

That heat on his cheeks traveled all throughout. The bashful disgust at his own lack of knowledge invoked a side that the king thought no longer existed. He…embraced it, turning to the child who leaned on their knees, looking at the evergreen fog over the bubbling lake.

You looked like your mother's ears as long as hers, cheeks large, and mouth a persistently disappointed purse. Edrin acknowledges his distance was certainly connected, and now his misstep would cost him the happy ending he’d promised himself.

“I would like to surmise a truce.”

The child turned to him, “A truce?”

“Yes, you agree to  behave, or at least pretend to around Melanie…and I’ll spend time with you.”

Edrin suspended his disbelief with a smile; that fell with a mocking gag from the other elf.

“That’s just another trick. No, thank you.”

Staring at a passing pixie over the lake, he makes the comparison of how he sees the vermin of the fae forest. With a groan, Edrin promises to make that change. Because what kind of father would he be if he let his offspring alone with an image of him like that?

“How about you give the baby a chance, and I’ll… dedicate the entire medical wing to your mother’s health.”

Your eyes lit up, and the King prided himself on his commitment. 

“Really?”

“Yes, you have my word.”

“Okay!”

The hand that he shook wasn’t as soft as he’d expected. Years' worth of time unaccounted for, unseen by the King, broke something within him. The memories of his newborn in his arms flashed in his head in place of the time he’d lost with you. Sparkling tears welling in his eyes as he reached out to hug them, only to grasp at air. 

Of course, the King is irritated and about to scold playfully, stopping when he sees where the child was.

Face in the dirt, in an aggressive dodge. 

As if they dodged an attempt on their life.

The King now knew just how much he’d failed, and he vowed to change. If not for the heir of his quivering in fear, but for the family he’d hope to have one day.

Kofi → Here

Masterlist → Here

Commissions → Here

(A dollar A headcannon season Open!!)

[enchantingarcadecreation]

Eyes-

Okay you got me curious about that Yandere Zhongli-

That being four different Aus: I call them (dragged back) (Bound in) in chains , Mama’s gone now, I have no father, Too Little too late and Return to love.

Dragged back in chains is the Yandere verse. It’s where Zhongli re meets MC and remembers and taking that time of shock, Mc immediately tries to flee. Of course, not before Zhongli gets the chance to spot the golden eyes of the infant.

Of course, she doesn’t get the chance to leave the city before she’s brought back before Zhongli in chains and with her daughter in her arms. He welcomes with coo’s and love, telling Mc in an odd voice that she doesn’t have to worry about anything ever again, that she won’t be leaving any time soon.

The two are stuck in the palace, a majority of the time Mc is with her daughter, but there are times when they are seperated and those times… well Mc has a reason she keeps her daughter tucked against her in bed. (It’s the force feeding of sweets as he coo’s in the sickly sweet tone, being held in grip as she tries to escape, it’s the drugs and ‘medicine’ she’s made to take every night. It’s the fact that she has extremely blurry memories of what happens to her at night if her daughter isn’t tucked against her.)

The only mercy to her shock is Guizhong and her children. Guizhongs children aren’t as cruel as she thought they would be as they tuck flowers into her daughter’s hair, as Guifang teaches her daughter to read, as Guiying shows her how to use a wooden sword. (Guizhong tucks them against her as they cry and sob, Guizhong who holds their hand softly enough- barely touching while they speak in a dead voice, Guizhong who notices the signs long before they do when they hurl into pots with an empty face.)

This goes on for months almost two years before anything changes. Suddenly he’s much more overbearing, insisting on sleeping and spending nights, that her Xue could and should learn to handle sleeping alone, then suddenly she’s being dragged out to event with Zhongli never stopping touching her, never removing his touch once.

It’s Guizhong whom tells her the grim truth. She’s pregnant.

This is where things split off-

In bound in chains, Mc gives up and sort of accepts her life. She doesn’t ever love zhongli, but it comes into tolerances and emptiness. She eventually gives birth to twin sons, names Wei and Li. These aren’t the last ones either, she’s does eventually have other children down the line and Guizhong ends up being her starwart protector when she can. Guizhong also has a child with Zhongli eventually due to the nobles brickering about all the ‘bastards in the palace running around’. Ultimately, it’s only when the throne is passed on that Guizhong gets Zhongli killed in a way that cannot connect back to the royal family. For the first time MC cries out of relief. Mc and Guizhong end up retiring in a seaside villa away from the capital, although they do visit. The wing Mc used to reside in was torn down and rebuilt into a garden. Their children are well in their lives and careers.

Mc doesn’t love Guizhong, not in the romantic ways a number of people would gossip about, but they care for her in the ways they can. Zhongli has long since drained them of that ability to love freely.

Now in Dragged back in chains is another story. One a heck of a lot more tragic (in its own way). So, instead of giving up after learns she’s pregnant, she begs for Guizhong to kill her. Guizhong doesn’t, but she’s does calm down the panicking, desperate and still flickering women in her arms. That’s when Guizhong decides her husband has gone too far and that’s when she puts her plan into motion.

It’s when Mc is six months along, four months after she learned, four months of Guizhong being patient, that she acts.

It’s a true tragedy, people whisper, That concubine Mc, her children and that Empress Guizhong children all passed. Those damn rebel’s, a guard snarls, what they did was unforgivable. Poor Empress Guizhong, Poor Emperor Zhongli, a servant speaks, to loose four children all at once, with one not even from the womb, I can only imagine how much despair they’ll be in. But, a noble whispers, I hear that Lady Guizhong is pregnant with Emperor Zhongli’s children. Hurrah, people cheer, Hurrah for an heir!

It doesn’t soothe the ache. Guizhong and Zhongli live in separate chambers now. He sleeps and mourns within Mc’s old courters, ears less and doesn’t care to look towards his empire in grief.

The emperor is absent, people notice, but thankfully Lady Guizhong is here. How noble, how kind! That despite her grief, that despite the way it weights her down, she doesn’t stop for people.

Yes, Guizhong think, for what can be weight in distance. Her children are not dead, but in the eyes of the people. Her children live, but none within Liyue except for her know this.

(Within Natlan, an old Kheanr’ian commander and his partner, a hero of Natlan and farmer gain some new neighbors. It’s a lady with a babe on her hip, a toddler of six by her side and two nine year olds who glare with grief in their eyes. The pair share a look but don’t ask, they don’t pry. They welcome her and the children in with open arms.)

Years down the line, Emperor Zhongli is said to die of Heartbreak while barely knowing the ten year old daughter he had with Guizhong, named Ninggaung. While he children never return to Liyue, they still remember that last night when she hugged them so tightly, when she placed kisses on their foreheads and spent nearly the entire night with them, letting them eat sweets and snacks with unshed tears and made them promise her to go with the man in blue hair, to not look anywhere towards Liyue until the Emperor is dead.

They visit their mother and hug her under different names and corridors. Mc learns to smile again, and love with an open heart teases her and presses kisses on the corner of Guizhong lips. She meets the people who her children call Uncle Ororon and Uncle Thrain, one of which just blinks before offering her a cabbage while his husband just sighs.

To history, Zhongli only had one surviving heir. To Guizhong, Zhongli had none, for her children are hers and her children all lives fulfilled lives.

But uh yeah- that’s some of them. I’ll send the rest later if you wanna hear bout them.

...Uh, I wasn't expecting this, jeez- 😱

What I had in my head originally for the yandere idea doesn't compare to what you got going on @littlebitshylittlebitangry, holy shit-

Don't get me wrong... I love where your mind goes little. You always bring me the best gifts!

Please send me more if you have them! 🥺

...Also you mentioning Capi and Ororon made me giggle. Gotta love that pair~

Tagging: @platinumrosetail, @arn9tails, @bloodytea, @esthelily, @uniquecutie-puffs

[enchantingarcadecreation]

I love sun bears.

Now guys...consider sunbear!reader with polar bear!price...

Bear hybrids have a bit of a reputation. Strong, aggressive, territorial. When the team hears they're getting a new bear hybrid, price is both excited and wary. Hes a polar bear hybrid, and knows damn well having two bears on a team can be hard to balance.

So imagine his surprise when he sees you. Sure, ur not tiny or anything, but you dont exactly tower over people like other bears do. Ur polite to the team, not bothering to kick up unnecessary fights. Often you just slink off to Ur room after ur required work is done, brushing off further socialization casually.

Not unheard of for bears to be antisocial, but some part of him is a bit sad he cant bond with the only other bear on team. It takes a long time for you to warm up to the team, but eventually you join in for meals and occasional trips to the bar.

Which means the first time u join breakfast is also the first time price sees you eat. He nearly chokes on his food when you grab a small cup of honey and fucking lick into it with an insanely long tongue. Its absolutely obscene. He can see the way ur tongue presses against the insides of the glass and wiggles around to scoop up the last drops. You make it look effortless.

Price cant help but wonder what that skilled tongue would feel like in his mouth. Or maybe on his cock. hes alot bigger than you, would you even be able to handle him? Gaz kicks price under the table and raises a brow, reminding the captain that hes in public and has been staring at a subordinate while sporting a half-chub for the past 10 minutes.

[enchantingarcadecreation]

Yandere Isekai Harem

There are 5 Yanderes. (3 are platonic and 2 are romantic)

You were reborn as the second youngest child of the royal family in one of your favorite books. The problem is that you were born as the daughter who everyone blames for things: in the story, your character dies in a blind rage from your father, Christopher, who believed you killed his youngest out of spite. What actually happened wasthat the youngest, your little brother, was cursed.

So, when you realize what was happening in the fact that you were at the part of the book where your younger brother, Theodore, starts getting sick? You know what to do.

In the book, they do manage to figure out a cure for the curse after the heroine’s younger sister gets sick with the same illness. The only problem is that this cure requires magic, something your character has very little of. (another thing that separated her from the rest of her family)

In a moment of pure desperation, you make the cure anyways. You imbue all of the magic that you can into this cure and feed it to Theodoreon the night before you would be killed. As you feed it to him, you hold his hand and feel your magic drifting into him.

When he’s nearly swallowed all of it, four things happen within moments of each other.

Your older brother, Alexander, and your father, Christopher slam the door open.

The last of the bottle goes down Theodore’s throat and you feel something in you twist uncomfortably.

Theodore’s eyes open,

And you pass out.

Alexander is 24 and Theodore is 14.

The two romantic Yanderes are the court jester(Ace) and your personal maid (Leoma)



[enchantingarcadecreation]

I love this.

'As long as I live, you will be loved.'

☆▪︎♡° Oya goddess of wind and change has a daughter with Bruce Wayne. Not to mention most of camp halfblood falls for the young demigod? °♡▪︎☆

Dc x pjo crossover

Notes; not proofread and some characters might be a bit oc and reader is black or in this case mixed. So poc.

Warnings: mentions of stillborn child, miscarriages. Mentions of death and sickness.

***********

Oya Goddess of wind, storm, and change had never asked for anything.

Not even a silver piece of praise from the mortals or the gods and yet she was always praised.

Praised for her strength and independence. For her humility and kindness even when it wasn't necessary.

She didn't blink twice at other gods. Zues even admired her from afar.

Other gods watched in jealousy as her attention was focused on the mortals that she called her tribe.

She'd give them rain when the season was dry and give them prosperous vegetables when their soul was bare.

In return the mortals worshipped at her feet. No one daring to curse her name. Not out of fear but out of respect.

Because of her strength and wisdom her people and the gods had never thought she'd ever fall inlove. Much less have children.

Yet, they were sorely mistaken. The goddess of wind wanted nothing more then to have a child of her own.

To love and care for as she saw the mothers in her tribe do.

So she 'pretended' that she fell for the God of love's trick.

She'd bare the child of Eros happily as long as it was hers.

And all was well, her people threw gifts at her feet, happy that their goddess had something that made her feel complete.

That was until the child was born. Stillborn, not a breath in its chest.

And though the goddess was tired from birthing even in her weak state she knew that a baby was supposed to cry when born.

Her tribe barely survived the storms of that year. Heavy on heart she didn't dare try for another, for years.

A decade later she had another with another God.

Deciding that Eros was at fault that her first child hadn't survived. It was easier to blame him when he wasn't even their to bury their stillborn child.

Her second child was with Ares the strong God more faithful to her then the first. He worshiped her throughout her pregnancy.

But when the second child had died before she even birth it she pushed Ares away.

Never wanting to see him agian. And so he left. Deciding that if that's what she wanted he'd give her that.

Years became decades until decades faded into centuries. Yet, each child she birth had never survived.

The goddess mourned each one. Never forgot their names or the lives they were supposed to live.

She buried them near her home. And visited them daily.

Then one night she slept with a mortal. A supposedly good one.

Not something she was proud of but it helped pass the pain.

And Bruce didn't complain as the goddess found herself in his bed almost every night.

Though unplanned the goddess found herself carrying the mortals child she didn't tell the others gods like before.

She kept this one a secret. Not in fear of judgment, but just so she could mourn this one in silence.

She didn't want or need comfort when the unstoppable happened once agian.

She'd sing to the babe night after night. Trying to comfort it from the dreadful death that was bound to come for it.

She'd told it about its brothers and sisters waiting for it in the sky.

Her hands gentle caressing her bumb as she felt the baby move.

She vowed you'd be her last child. Knowing she couldn't bear to lose another after you.

"You'll be my gift to your siblings.." she promised decideding that if she couldn't give her children any of things she had. She would give them you.

Though bitter sweet she still felt possessive. Not wanting to let you go, though she knew it would happen.

Months passed and you grew in her stomach ,strong. But so did some of the others. She didn't dare hope.

But she did pray.

Then you were born, and she heard your beautiful cries like angels singing in her ears and she almost didn't believe it as she held you in her arms.

"So beautiful..." she whispered as she held you.

"Nothing will ever harm you....." she promised at night as she laid with you on her chest.

And once agian she was back to her joyful days. With the wind in her hair and you in her arms nothing could ever bring her down.

Her tribe worshiped her and loved you. For with you born the plants grew faster and in numbers. The weather was good and it had stopped flooding.

You were dressed in the finest cloth and your hair always with flowers.

Your skin was a bit lighter then your mother's due to who your father was so your mother gave you jewelry that complimented your skin.

You grew with the children in the village your small feet wanting to go anywhere they went.

Your mother smiled a sad thought that you would've done the same with your older siblings had they been alive.

You thrived in your tribe and loved your mother as she loved you. Not a day went by without your mother taking you to your siblings grave.

And when you understood what she was saying you babbled to them complete nonsense as if they were alive.

Your mother smiled as you remembered their names and your small hands touched their stones as if you were touching them.

"I see that she was never a gift I was to send you my children....but a gift you all sent me." Your mother whispered as she laid you down in bed one night.

Forever grateful you were hers.

You grew like a flower so fast atleast in your mother's eyes.....

Then you grew sick.

Far to fast and harsh to be a silly cold. You were three not understanding how to tell your mother you didn't feel so well.

She had the best doctors and nurses from everywhere try and figure out why you were hopelessly sick.

Word spread like fire in a forest that the Oya had a child.

Most gods filled with envy that she had a child with someone who wasn't them. Until they heard that the child was sick.

All ears perked up and all wings, boats ,and feet dashed to get to her. In hopes of helping her child and winning her favor.

But it was as clear as day why the child was sick when the gods saw the small child.

"I'm killing her?" Your mother whispers not wanting to disturb your sleep.

'Yes....' Zeus clarifies.

'She's not a pure blooded God. She's a demigod..... your not allowed to be in her life.' Athena whispers hands gently on your mother shoulders trying to ease her pain.

'No, this can't be...I just got her....'

'You have to let her go....or she'll die.' Eros the last person in the world your mother wanted to see right now says.

And though she'd rather beat him to a pulp them agree with him, she knew he was right.

So with tearful eyes and a heavy heart she sent her most trustful nymphs to check on your father.

Bruce Wayne.

She had cut off all ties with that man as soon as she knew she was pregnant with you. Deciding that he didn't need to bear the hurt of a dead child.

When the nymphs arrived they told your mother that he wasn't in good shape. A child of his own had just passed. Jason.

She remembers that boy vividly. She knew that she needed someone strong to raise you and a mourning father wouldn't do.

So she sent her nymphs out agian. And they found someone more.....suitable.

'She's an Amazon your majesty....she'll do until the child is old enough to go to camp.'

Your mother nodded having fought along side the Amazon women before and trusting them deeply despite her lack of knowledge of this specific woman.

'And she agreed?' Your mother ask. Watching you as you played in the flower filed. Though you were sick you still wanted to run and play so your mother let you...

Because she knew soon you wouldn't be here.

'Yes.' The nymphs reply.

'She leaves tomorrow....let me have this day with her....'

She spent the whole day with you. Holding you mesmerizing your touch. Your eyes the color and feel of your skin.

She'd miss you forever. Is all she thought about. She'd watch you from afar yes. But it'd never be that same.

'I give you this gift. It's my favorite thing in the world, other then you.' She mutters as she puts a necklace over your head.

You smile happily playing with necklace as your mother continues to hold you.

It's a gold necklace with a pendent of your mother symbol.

'And when the time is right....we will meet agian.' She whisper tears falling down her face as your little hands make haste to wipe them.

Though your mother rather not have them here alot of gods had shown up to send you on your way with gifts.

Though after everyone was down there was three who shocked everyone. Since they hardly ever gave their own children gifts, much less someone else's.

Ares steps up taking you from your mother's arms.

'To you, little one, I give the gift of strength. Let your strength be as strong as your heart. And let all your battles end with your victory.'

Your small eyes shinned with a dark blue light before it quickly disappeared.

The war God begrudgingly handed you over to Aphrodite silently wishing you were his to keep.

Aphrodite smiles as she holds you. Skin a lighter shade of your mother and almost mirroring your mother's reflection.

'To you, my dear I give the gift of beauty. May men and women gravel at your feet for your wit and beauty.'

The goddess smiles as your eyes turn a bright pink before it disappears agian.

The last one is Eros and your mother gives him a stern glare daring him to mess this up.

'You already have the beauty and the strength ,my love. So to you, I give the gift of love. May you never be without love. That all who meet you be smitten by your compassion and heart.'

Your eyes glow a deep red before the go back to normal.

Eros smiles as he hands you back to your mother. To say you will be loved would be an understatement he thinks to himself .

Your mother sighs a heavy and saddened breathe before kissing your head and giving you over to her trustful nymphs.

*************

'Oya has entrusted you with her dearest trusure. Do not mess this up.' Your mother's nymphs warn handing Diana you.

You reach out for your mother's nymphs wanting them to take you back to your mother like they always have.

They give you a sad smile and wave before they disappear. You whine and reach out but their already gone.

'It's just you and me now.....' Diana whispers tucking your curly hair behind your ear.

Almost like you understand exactly what she meant you begin crying. Tears of fear and sadness fill your eyes and Diana's apartment echos with your sobs.

Your mother watches from a mirror that Zues had given her to see exactly where you are 24/7.

Your mother's tribes expected rain for the next few months or years. But none came..

Just big Grey clouds.

Like she didn't want the sun to shine if not with you. And it didn't.

In Gotham the rain flooded the streets matching your tears almost completely.

And Diana wondered if you had something to do with it. When you slept the rain stopped and when you cried so did the clouds.

She figured you'd have powers she just didn't know to what extent.

She did know one thing though. She promised to care for you like a mother would. And that's what she would do.

Time passed and though your mother's heart ached as she watch you forget her, your home and your siblings. She was happy you had stopped crying.

Even if her sorrow didn't.

And Diana loved you like a mother. Almost not wanting you to go to school for the first time.

You made friends quickly finding peace easy.

You grew in beauty, strength and love where ever you went as promised.

The years went and your mother never stopped watching you.

You grew up thinking your mother was Diana. And your mother didn't despise Diana for never telling you the truth.

She knew Diana cared for you as well and if thinking that Diana was your mother is what was best for you then she'd happily sit in sorrow for eternity waiting to face you once more.

Your powers grew to be unstable. Wind bending at your will and storms conveying to your emotions. You were quick to learn how to defend with a sword like breathing.

Diana taught you what she could. She taught you all that she'd known. But eventually you had become better then her.

She admired your strength and it wasn't long until she made you her sidekick.

But fate had interviened and whether your mother planned it or not you were bound to meet your father.

You were ten when you first saw him. You didn't think much of him just surprised you'd actually get to meet batman.

But Bruce the ever knowing genius he was knew there was something diffrent about you.

He didn't comment on it. Scared he was wrong. Like his head was playing tricks on him.

He kept you close when he could. Asking you questions even asking Diana questions. But she'd never tell him the truth.

You on the other hand told him what you thought was the truth.

That you got your powers from Diana since you were part Amazon like her. Atleast that's what you thought.

You met Tim back then and kinda of clicked. It was a sweet bond you to shared. Nothing romantic, just natural.

As your powers grew monster began coming. You didn't notice it at first. Far to busy with school and friends and being a hero.

But Diana did.

She kept it hidden from you. Killing monsters out of sight.

And when you asked about that demon monster she'd been caught fighting in the news? She'd say it was just another villian.

Eventually the monsters got to powerful. To many in numbers and Diana knew it was time to take you to the camp.

It was your last day on patrol before you and Diana went on your 'family trip'.

You and Tim had sat on a rooftop talking about anything and everything when batman showed up.

His all black suit doing nothing to hide him from your senses.

'Hey batman.' You say waving as he makes himself know.

And Bruce doesn't know why he's never noticed but as he steps closer in the dim moonlight something shimmers on your neck.

A necklace.

Bruce would remember that necklace no matter how long its been.

It was your mother's....

Your head tilts confused to why he's staring at you but he makes not comment about it.

'Everything okay?' You joke smiling.

'Everything's fine....' Bruce mutters back his eyes snapping to meet yours...

Well if what he was thinking was true he did have some of your blood at the batcave from where you had gotten hurt to check your DNA.

'Tim we need to go home.'

'But she's leaving for the summer! Can't I stay for a little longer?!' Tim whines dramatically.

'No, this is.....serious.'

Tim's sighs before waving goodbye reminding you to text him.

You wave a big smile on your face as you make your way back home. Excited for your vacation.

Only to see Diana absolutely freaking out.

Her usually perfect hair is a mess and her hands quickly throw your clothes in a suitcases.

'Mom, what's wrong?' You ask.

She completely ignores you as she grabs your hand pulling you out the apartment locking the door.

She rushes you to her car throwing your suitcase in the trunk.

She quick to get as far away from the apartment as possible.

'Your hurt.....' You comment seeing a fresh scar on her cheek.

'I'm fine.' She replies.

You hum seeing her tense face.

'Mom....what's going on?' You ask not being able to stop yourself.

'We... we just had to get out of there.'

'Why not fly?'

'They can track us better in the air.' Diana says not thinking twice before mentally cursing herself for it.

'What can track us? Mom, what's tracking us?' You ask.

Diana was never one to run from a fight so you were definitely scared of whatever was tracking you guys.

'Baby, there's alot that you don't know... In your suitcase there's a note a letter from me. I wan't you to read it once we get there.'

You look at her confused not understanding why she couldn't just tell you now.

She doesn't turn to face you but you can see the tears that cloud her vision as she drives.

You think it's from fear, but it's not.

It's from sorrow. Sorrow of leaving you.

You don't speak for hours. The silence heavy on your worried heart as you stop at forest when Diana tells you to get out.

'Why are we here ,mom?' You question taking your suitcase from her hand. Then you notice it.

She didn't pack anything for her.

'Your not coming....are you?' You ask. Your voice small and scared.

'Think of this like a summer camp ,baby.'

You want to shrink. To hide. Or more importantly.

To go back home.

You can feel it. Something isn't right. It feels like all eyes are in you. Like your on the center of a stage and you don't know the script.

This isn't right.

'I want to go home.'

'Not right now ,baby..' Diana sighs cupping your face and tears want to fall from her eyes so bad but she doesn't allow them.

'Follow that trail... you'll be safe.'

She points to a long dirt trail and you turn to look at it before looking back at her.

She doesn't have the heart to tell you your not hers. That you never were.

That's she has no right to keep you. That she has no idea what's in those woods.

But that look in your eyes makes her want to puke. That helpless look. That scared look that you had when your mother's nymphs gave you to her.

She gets in her car.

'I'm scared.' You say your hand bunched into fist and she's seed it.

She does.

You want the truth. You deserve the truth.

But the truth was never her's to tell ,and you were never her's to keep.

'Just truth me.'

She says and you do.

Blindly you do.

Because she's your mom. She knows what's best right?

You nod one hand nervously fiddling with your nails while the other clutches your suitcase tight.

She puts the car into drive and looks away from you knowing she can't look at you as she leave.

'I love you ,mom.' You say your chest uneasy.

'I love you too.' She says as her foot hits the gas.

Though she knows it'll hurt she still looks at her mirror to make sure your walking down the trail.

Just like that you lose your second mother.

You walk down the trail and if you weren't so scared and nervous you would've thought it was nice.

Until you hear a scream that sounds like death. You almost chase after it, your hero instincts wanting to help.

But something deep inside of you tells you that whatever that is doesn't need help.

It's night by the time you see the camp.

The sky illuminated by the moon its a beautiful camp. Something that looks straight out of a movie.

Cabins all around but everyone seems to be asleep.

You knock on the big canines that says 'Camp Councilor' but no one opens.

Shame, you'll just have to sleep outside for tonight.

But there's no way your going to sleep on the ground.

The last thing you want to do is fight a bear in the middle of the night.

So you sleep in a tree hoping that all the dangerous animals are to tired to climb.

*****The week before at camp halfblood.*****

The clouds thundered and the sky was dark. As the Storm brewed all campers were inside.

No one seen when the new cabin appeared.

It was just there.

Like the wind brought it in.

'Who's symbol is that?' Percy asked his voice confused and slightly amused at the knew cabin.

'Oya, the goddess of the wind and storm ,or well change.' Annabeth replies.

All the campers gathered around the new cabin excited and some worried.

There's never been a new cabin before.

Smaller gods had there's kids stay with the Hermes kids not being 'good enough' for their own cabin.

So this God must've been special.

'Oya must be pretty powerful to get her kids a whole cabin.' Grover remarks as he watches some of the other campers try to look in the cabin or even open the door.

'Yeah, she is...but she's said to never been able to have kids.' Annabeth replies.

Percy however moves to try and open the door.

'It won't budge.' Percy whine jiggling the handle.

'That's right it won't.' Chrion says smiling as he takes in the big luxurious dark oak wood cabin.

'Why not?' Annabeth mutters.

'Oya had especially made this cabin for her daughter. Only she will decide who gets to enter.' Chrion replied shrugging.

'Not even you can get in?' Grover ask.

'Not even me.' Chiron clarifies.

'Wait this whole cabin is for one demigod?!' The other campers ask amazed. This was bigger then Percy's cabin.

Chiron nods smiling at the other campers jealousy.

'Well whoever she is I can't wait to see how strong she is.'

'Yeah, or how smart she is.'

'Guys can't we all be friends for once?'

****************Current day*******************

Diana walks back in her apartment the rooms feeling empty.

Your room feels empty.

'We need to talk.' Bruce voice makes her jump. How long had he been there?

He sits on her couch comfortably.

Not in his suit. Not batman. Just Bruce.

'Not now Bruce.' Diana replies motioning towards the door with her hand.

'Where is she?' Bruce ask his gaze looking over her. Noticing her tired expression. The cut on her cheek. Noticing the sadness.

'Who?' Diana ask playing along.

Bruce clears his throat fixing his tie and sitting forward.

'Let me refraze that.' His voice husky and cruel. Not Bruce.

Batman.

'Where is my daughter?'

Thanks for reading!!

Likes comments and reblogs are appreciated!!

Who Ares, Aphrodite, and Eros felt like giving reader those gifts.

[enchantingarcadecreation]

I know I mentioned this before, but I really crave a winx club au where when Domino fell, it wasn't completely wiped out but they instead went into isolation by their own choice or some magical after shocks from the attack forced their hands. Or maybe a mixture of both. The snowy landscape we saw was either the magical after shocks or the last spell casted as an illusion to help hide themselves. This isolation was in part so they could heal, but it also accidentally led to the rest of the magical universe thinking Domino was dead.

In this au Dominans, who were some of the most magically inclined people due to their home being made from progenitor magic, had given their magic to their home to help heal it, this includes the royal family. Now they still have the traces of magic in them as all people in the Magix deminsion do, but they wouldn't be performing spells all over the place. In their isolation, they learn to adapt and rebuild.

As for the royal family themselves I kinda adopted this one idea I saw once that Oritel's family were the political leaders of Domino while Miriam's were the spiritual leaders and the ones who were the hosts to the dragon flame. The two families always were in vincinty of one another and had generations that were closer than others were, but they didn't mix until Oritel and Miriam. The plan was always for them to have two children, one to be Oritel's heir and the other to be Miriam's. The decision on who was gonna be who's was determined by who had the stronger connection to the dragon flame. All descendants of Miriam's line are born with a spark of the dragon's flame inside of them, and how they grow that spark determines how strong their connection is and who the next host will be.

For a good chunk of her younger years, Bloom was raised on Earth with her aunt Vanessa, Oritel's sister, and her Uncle Mike. She and other young Dominans were sent there while the adults focused on rebuilding Domino. The children would be brought back when it was safe enough to do so. Bloom was a curious child and was still curious as she grew up. She loved learning history, and one of her favorite pastimes was drawing. She's got a temper, though, but it isn't all that surprising since Miriam has that same temper. All of her ancestors have it, some say it's the dragon in them. Part of growing their powers is learning to self calm so their flames don't become an inferno. Bloom also has a habit of speaking in dragon when she gets annoyed.

Due to the circumstances of their home, Bloom was the one chosen to be Miriam's heir despite that she never got a chance to grow her spark. Daphne became Oritel's heir due to their home and people's needs. Bloom was young and had more time to learn Domino's customs and traditions that Miriam's position would require. That young age would also make her more adaptable when it was time to bring Domino out of isolation and have Bloom be a symbol for a new beginning. Circumstances as they were Oritel would need his older daughter to become his heir. The people needed a symbol of survival and someone who could change with them. That became Daphne, who was in the war, who lived before and after just like them.

To counteract with their loss, some Domians clung to their connections with dragons. They've always been able to communicate with them, and some even created a bond with specific dragons and became dragon riders. Bloom herself spent a lot of time around them and even joined her mother when she rode her dragon. At age 12, Bloom herself created a bond with a dragon she named Buddy, Buddy is best friends with her pet bunny Kiko.

It's around the time Bloom would have gone to Alfea that Domians, after so many years without magic, are starting to be able to do small spells again. It's proof that their home is healing. It doesn't need that extra magic anymore, so it's slowly returning to its people.

Bloom still can't perform magic. She knows it in theory, knows the history, but she just can't summon it. It worries her. She's her mother's heir. How is she supposed to be the next host when she can't even cast spells any child can do? Did her spark die out? Daphne tries to comfort her sister, saying Bloom is just a little behind. Her spark is still there she just has to work on connecting and growing it now.

Now I have two different ideas where I can take this. The first is that Bloom is visiting her aunt and uncle when she comes across Stella in trouble. Wanting to help her Bloom steps in. She knows how to fight, her dad made sure of that. The ogre managed to grab a hold of her, and then something weird happened. A burst of magic came out of her, stronger than anything she's seen before.

How did she-?

Bloom doesn't ponder on it long because the blonde fairy still needs help. After that Stella is her bright self, and Bloom finds herself sweet away to Alfea. Vanessa helps Bloom send a message back to her parents about everything. They think Bloom should stay at Alfea, if her powers are excelling at a faster pace Alfea is a good place for her to be.

There's just this tiny thing. Everyone thinks Bloom is from Earth. She doesn't know if she should even tell them the truth. After all, Domino was still healing and wasn't even planning yet to come out of isolation. But maybe she could at least open a door with this? Something for Daphne to lead their people through when the time came?

The second option I have for this is specialist Bloom. In this one, while Bloom is still struggling to connect to her spark, Domino does need to start slowly coming out of isolation. Which means Bloom needs to go to school. Alfea isn't an option but maybe Red Fountain?

Miriam cam make a potion that can temporarily change Bloom from a girl to a boy. It's not strong enough to last if Bloom gets her periord, that stuff would need to come out of her body, but she has been around dragon riders her whole life. She knows how to act like a guy and dress up like one if she needs to. The training the specialists go through she knows how to do that.

Bloom takes the potion and becomes Blaze. They get documents that create a history for who was born on Eraklyon, one of Domino's closest neighbors. After that, it's off to school Bloom goes. She's tested with all other new students, and based on her scores, she is placed on a team.

Her team consists of six boys, Sky, Brandon, Helia, Riven, Timmy, and Nabu. They're a well-balanced team, so she's confused why she's been placed with them until she realizes that none of them really work with other magical creatures such as the Red Fountain dragons. Bloom scored some of her highest marks there, which considering she can literally talk to them and her home's belief of cherishing all of the Great Dragon's children it wasn't that hard.

All the boys are older than her on this team, but Red Fountain makes their teams based on skillset. If one student graduates, then their spot will be filled by another. It's actually uncommon for everyone to be in the same year on teams. On real missions, your team will be full of different ages and backgrounds. You might as well start here and get the students used to it. Of course, specialists have their own individual classes based on their year, but teams will always be a mixed thing.

Bloom gets along best with Helia and Timmy. Her and Helia trade art tips and draw together. Meanwhile, she and Timmy bond as two nerds who excitedly listen to their fellow nerd geek out over their special interest. She debates with Nabu over magical theories, and they discuss different types of magic. Riven is a great practice for her self calming techniques because by the dragon, does this boy piss her off. Bloom's not always successful, and she has gotten into a fist fight with Riven more than once, but still, she gets good practice.

It's Sky and Brandon she's hesitant around. She wasn't expecting to get put on a team with someone from Eraklyon, much less two, AND ONE OF THEM IS THE FREAKING PRINCE! She DOES NOT need one of them to go looking into her background. She does not need one of them to find her fake documents. Nope, best to be friendly and keep at arms length. Which kinda sucks because she actually does like them and would want to be friends with them if they were just from any other place.

She meets the Alfea girls the guys are friends with, and Bloom likes them too. She starts also becoming friends with them. She'll ask them about how each of them grew their magic, taking that knowledge and later privately applying it to her own. Bloom may or may not be falling into one of her impulsive ideas and play a little match maker here and there. She's not blind ok? She can see they like one another.

Her letters to her parents encourage these friendships Bloom has been building. It's not only good for Bloom but also can help by at the very least setting an example for when they fully come out of isolation.

Things get complicated, though, when something or someone sets off Bloon's temper bad enough, or she's in a dire situation that not only does she let out a blast of magic stronger than anyone has been able to do on Domino but also destroys her mask of Blaze when the potion fails by her turning into her fairy form for the first time.

[enchantingarcadecreation]

I personally like the fact that ell can’t talk to reader anymore and that reader is happy with the brothers.

So this is love?

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝚃𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚡 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚍!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝙸𝚝'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝙲𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚊 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: 𝟸𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗, 𝙾𝙾𝙲, 𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎! 𝙲𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊, (𝚢𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎?)𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊, 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚋𝚛𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎, 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖-𝚘𝚋𝚜𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚒𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊.

𝑭𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒏𝒚𝒎𝒑𝒉: 𝙴𝚗𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚑 𝚒𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚞𝚊𝚐𝚎

𝐅𝐚𝐜𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦

dividers by @thecutestgrotto

Your friend Ell was a little obsessed with his dream of getting into the castle. On dark nights he would sing about his dream, telling incredible stories about how he would get into the castle and fall in love with the princess, and she, of course, would fall in love with him.

You felt sorry for this kid who was orphaned and was a servant in his own home. His stepfather and stepbrothers hated him and tried to make his life a living hell. But even so, the young man looked at the world with open eyes and was kind to everyone.

You and he were childhood friends, after his father died, you stayed at his side. And were there when his "new family" arrived.

After Ella's mother died, there were fewer servants in the house. They paid a pittance, but it was enough to buy bread and fresh milk. Of course, you left out the fact that the Tremaine family were just greedy people who hid gold in their coffers and took it out when they wanted to have fun: to buy new clothes or to pay for the most luxurious carriage to social events.

The estate looked clean only because of Ell, who loved his childhood home fervently. And he wanted it to look perfect. It never offended him that the house had changed a little, the carpets and curtains that made the manor gloomier. He enjoyed shaking the dust off the new oak chairs that towered over the table, which were hard to move. But Ell had grown to be a tall and strong man. You were in love with him, but he only dreamed of a beautiful princess, only the pillow knew how many tears you cried for that young man.

You hardly ever crossed paths with his half-brothers, you had your hands full. You only helped Ell when you heard his brothers shouting at the whole manor for him to bring tea or something.

You always thought they were nasty and ugly, until the day Ell came down with a fever and you had to work for him. The old housekeeper put you in charge of taking tea and desserts to the young gentlemen in the garden. So with a squeak of the heart, you put everything on a tray and hurried off to complete the task.

The garden was small but well-kept, with roses of various colours. A small arbour stood at the edge of the garden, covered by some bushes, from which the quiet voices of young people could be heard.

"Where is that rascal boy!!!," Anastasis was indignant when you came into his field of vision.

"I apologise young gentlemen, Ell has come down with a fever, let me take care of you for the duration of his absence," you kept your head down, carefully set the tray down and arranged the cups of tea and saucers of treats on the table.

"That, what's that mouse?" asked Drizel calmly, but a little sternly

"I haven't seen you, who are you?" asked Anastasis just as sternly.

"My name is Y/n, I will be serving you for a while," you meekly kept your head down.

You didn't really want to look at those freaks and spoil your mood. But when Anastasis lifted your head by the chin, you were pleasantly surprised to see the face of a handsome young man in front of you. His red hair was tucked back slightly, his greenish eyes staring into yours with a strange calmness. Inadvertently you averted your eyes and faced Drizel's gaze, he was sipping tea and his dark eyes were turned towards you, he was just as beautiful as Anastasis. His dark hair fell lightly over his face, preventing his eyes from getting a better look at you.

"What a lovely mouse working for us!" admired Anastasis, tugging your chin again to get your attention.

"I apologise, but I have to go," you pulled out of his arms and taking the tray ran back home, to the loud laughter of Anastasis.

A few days passed, and now you attracted the attention of two brothers who were watching you. They didn't talk, didn't try to pester you in any way, just watched. Though Drizel did touch your arm a few times, seemingly casually, as you served them breakfast and dinner.

But as luck would have it, Ell recovered quickly, and began to work with renewed vigour. So you began to avoid the young men again.

One day when you were hanging the laundry, and when the sun was shining brightly, and the wind had risen so strong yet warm, you met Drizel. He was leaning against the wooden pole of the dryer, and watched your actions intently. His black eyes penetrated deep into your body, stirring something inside, making your stomach twist. His eyes read interest and desire, something that was forbidden.

"Is there anything I can do for you, young master?" you looked fearfully into his eyes.

"Damn... "he cursed softly, grinned, and...walked away.

You continued to hang up the laundry, with a face of utter incomprehension.

Anastasis came into the kitchen late at night. You and Ell were putting away all the unnecessary items, and scrubbing the floors.

"Mousey, make me some tea and bring it to my room," his green eyes took in your figure, and at his words he wanted the tea right now.

"I can make it for you, brother," Ell grumbled and pulled a teapot from the cupboard.

"I don't need you, I need her! Mousey, I'm waiting, hurry up," commanded the young man and left.

"What was that?" asked Ell incredulously.

"I don't know..." you went about making tea, Ell didn't say anything else.

A few minutes later, you went up to Anastasis' room, knocked and entered when you heard: "Come in."

"Too long," the man said resentfully, taking a seat at a small table by the window.

"I apologise, young master. I made the tea not quite strong enough for you to sleep," you set the tray on the table, unloading it.

"Mmmm, thoughtful," he smirked cheekily, the man grabbing your arm when he saw you were about to leave. "Where are you going?"

"My work day is over, so I'd like to retire to my room," you said uncertainly.

"Ah, how boring!" he tugged on your arm, pulling you closer.

"What are you doing?" you shrieked, trying to push him away from you.

But the man's grip was firm, he didn't even get up from his chair to stop, he only pulled you closer again and jabbed at your stomach. You froze, wondering at his gesture.

"Insomnia has attacked me... "he whispered quietly, but you heard perfectly.

"Is something bothering you?" you asked awkwardly, trying to breathe less frequently.

"Maybe...." The man looked down at you, resting his chin on your stomach.

"Should we call a doctor in the morning?"

"He won't help!" Anastasis hid his face again, sighing heavily.

He seemed so weak and helpless that inadvertently you reached down and lightly stroked his red hair. If Anastasis had been a cat, he would have purred, you're sure.

"It feels good..." the man said affectionately, and pulled you closer.

You went back to your room too late and something unimaginable was going on in your mind. The young men's interest in you was unexpected, what did they want from you? Just amusement? Or a genuine interest? Though Mr Tremaine was probably already looking for wives for his sons. Or rather, he wanted them to marry Princess Henrietta, or rather one of them, and he was hoping for his eldest son, Drizel. And Anastasis was the backup.

But what can you give them? Even if there are some feelings, and they are sincere in them, but if Count Tremaine finds out, you will be grateful to be alive after such a thing.

But abruptly you pulled yourself back. What feelings? What are you talking about? That's bullshit, they're just messing with you!

You sighed heavily, unbuttoned your work dress. Tomorrow is your day off, and you and Ell have decided to go out and walk around town. Since the Tremaine family will be leaving for a tea party with the honourable people. You glanced back to look at tomorrow's dress, it was cream coloured, it was the one you had wanted to get married in once, it was the only expensive one in your entire wardrobe. You sighed heavily again, put on your nightie and went to bed.

As soon as the Tremaine family was over the threshold of the house and their new carriage disappeared from sight, you and Ell rushed to your rooms to change.

You stayed late to do your hair and apply light make-up, and rub scented oils on your neck.

When you came out Ell was already standing at the main door, and even twitched his leg somehow nervously and looked at the clock in the corridor. But then he spotted you coming down the stairs slowly, expecting a compliment, but got one:

"You're so long! I thought you fell asleep in there!" he irritably took your hand and dragged you towards the exit.

His behaviour was a bit scary lately, he became nervous, irritated and could even shout at someone, but not at his "family".

You walked to different places, you tried your best to hold back tears and resentment, which Ell didn't seem to notice. You went to the stalls, just looking, because you had no money. You took part in some entertainment programme they had decided to put on in the square. You even won a few coins.

And tired you decided to buy some small sandwiches for a snack and sit near the fountain. The sun was getting close to hiding behind the horizon and the sky was lightly coloured orange. Ell ate in silence, and looked at the people passing by, just like you. But because you didn't talk much, you decided to ask the odd question:

"Ell, why are you so anxious to get to the castle?" you shifted your gaze to the man.

He flinched, and slowly turned towards you, his crazed look made you flinch, it startled you.

"What kind of stupid question is that, my fool?" he smiled just as strained, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

You returned home in silence, trying to get home before the Tremayne family arrived, and you did. Ell, the first thing he did was hide in his room in the attic.

The sun was long gone, and candles were burning in the house.

"Cinderella!" the nasty voice of Mr Tremaine echoed through the house.

You were in the kitchen and decided to wait until the owners had gone to their rooms. If they saw you like this, they might suspect something. You fixed your hair and the dress that exposed your breasts so seductively, you had to pin it up to make your breasts look favourable, but it was for nothing.

Ell went down to his family and helped them undress, you heard them hurry upstairs to the lively conversations. You exhaled, and opened the kitchen door, hoping to slip upstairs to your room. But you hit someone's chest painfully, the slight smell of cologne wafting through the air, and a green waistcoat came into view. You already guessed who was in front of you, and in confirmation, you lifted your head up and your eyes collided with Drizel's. He held you gently with one hand, cradling you against his youthful, but so firm, chest.

He burned a hole in you again, noticing your frilly dress.

"Young master, can I help you with something?" your gaze was hard, clearly not ready for jokes or conversation.

He grinned and shook his head, after a few seconds the young man decided to let you go. But threw you a glare:

"You look ravishing today, my lady."

You hurried into the room to hide the blush coming to your cheeks. Fool! It means nothing to him! Stop dwelling on the clouds.

A few days later, a letter arrived at the manor saying there was a ball at the royal castle. Princess Henrietta needed a husband. And Ell was not silent for a moment, for that letter had his name on it too. He thought about clothes, and was sure he would wear that pink suit of his deceased father's. The young man was describing how he would meet the princess and what they would talk about. You felt uneasy and a kind of fear because his speeches could be compared to those of a madman! And with each new fantasy of his, you felt a mental heaviness and disgust.

For the next day, you avoided your friend, keeping yourself busy with various things. You only sometimes noticed him in the corridor, standing dreamily or walking from one room to another.

Surprisingly the rooms were quiet, the brothers gathered with disgruntled faces, only the boys' father was laughing and cheering. He was telling the plan to Drizel, you heard him as you passed the room. The door was ajar, and you could see the dark-haired man irritably adjusting his cufflinks, and sighing heavily when his father pulled him back to make sure Drizel was listening. Anastasis sat on the couch and rolled his eyes the same way when his father threw him phrases along the lines of, "If anything, you'll pick it up!". Mr Tremaine kept strutting around, just as obsessively recounting his fantasies as Ell had been doing since morning. It was getting embarrassing to be eavesdropping, but you wondered about brothers' reaction. And it was satisfactory for you, you blushed as your gazes with Drizel crossed, you shifted your gaze to Anastasis who was already looking at you and smirking slyly. You recoiled from the door and ran to your room, your job was done today.

Towards evening you came out of your room when you heard shouting and swearing downstairs. You froze in horror when you saw Drizel and Anastasis tearing at Ella's clothes, he pushed them away, but like kites they clung to the pink fabric with renewed vigour and pulled. Anastasis laughed madly as Drizel walked round and only smiled cheekily. When Ell did break free from their grasp, he looked at everyone madly, and ran off. Mr Tremaine, who had been standing off to the side, finally exhaled contentedly and walked out the door while the brothers adjusted their outfits and put on their outerwear. You quickly made your way downstairs.

"Why are you doing this to him?" you could read the horror in your eyes.

"He talked too much, we didn't like it," Anastasis sniggered.

"For such a good evening, he ruined our mood," Drizel shook the invisible dust off the sleeves of his jacket and looked at you.

"What on earth did he say that you did such a cruel thing to him?" you shifted your gaze to Anastasis.

"About you," the redhead said already more calmly, and hurried out the door.

"Y/n, he's not who he claims to be, haven't you noticed?" said Drizel a little cooingly.

Of course you noticed, your mate had changed a lot, and you didn't know the reason or when it all started. Drizel smiled tiredly, but leaned over and whispered in your ear:

"We don't like it when someone we care about is humiliated,"

He straightened up and walked out the door, leaving you blushing. As the family carriage disappeared from sight. You remembered about Ell. Did he humiliate you? What the hell did he say about you? You decided to deal with him, you decided to put things right, and in the event, shut his mouth, he started to get on your nerves. You ran all over the estate to find the young man, but he was gone. The old keywoman only shrugged her shoulders, and the other two maids didn't know of his whereabouts either. You went down to the great hall, trying to get your thoughts in order and think again.

At some point you heard horses neighing, and some rummaging in the garden. You hurried out. And witnessed a real miracle, next to Ell stood a plump man dressed in shiny intricate clothes, he had a magic wand in his hands, he waved it and magic dust flew towards the young man, enveloping him. His pink costume began to change, the fabric dyed a silvery blue colour. It was so fast that you could only blink before Ell was standing there in an expensive and beautiful outfit.

"Ell?" unable to contain yourself, you raised your voice, your mate smiled radiantly at you.

"Y/n! I'm going to the ball! Can you imagine!!!?...Oh it's my godfather! He's a wizard! Can you imagine!?" the young man was so excited that he had already stopped watching his words.

"It's marvellous!" you uttered mesmerised.

"Thank you," the old man's gentle voice sounded quiet.

Ell hugged you and hurried down the path to the garden exit. You looked back at the wizard, and he only gave you a hand, which you took. He led you to the exit so you could watch Ell quickly climb into a golden carriage pulled by white horses. You forgot all your anger at the man, seeing his bright smile.

"Remember, at exactly 12 o'clock, all the magic will dissipate, you have to be back in time," the older man muttered.

"Yes, I remember, touch it already!" muttered Ell irritably, and the carriage moved off.

"What on earth is going on with him?" said the wizard unhappily.

"Have you noticed it too?" you shifted your attention to him.

"I'm afraid human factors are to blame here," the old man said thoughtfully.

"Factors?"

"Yes, he wants to get out of poverty and humiliation, the only way..."

"Marry a princess," you continued quietly.

"My dear, I can't help you in any way, but I can tell you that your happy ending is near," the man muttered.

You turned round to ask a question, but the wizard was gone. A happy ending? What does that mean?

You wanted to wait for Ell to hear his story. But the labour wore you down, and you fell asleep on your bed in your work clothes, still dreaming of the castle and the beautiful balls.

Ell woke you up early in the morning, he didn't care about your desire to sleep or your tiredness. The young man only gibbered and told you how he met the princess. How he was able to bewitch her thanks to his robes, and how they danced all night discussing everything in the world.

"Only it's strange that the brothers didn't even try to please the princess. It seems to me that they avoided meeting her unnecessarily, and their father was always looking for them," the young man said thoughtfully, taking off part of his torn suit.

His phrase made you smile contentedly.

"I'm happy for you, Ell!"

You said the phrase so sincerely that the blond man even stopped rambling for a moment, and was slightly mesmerised by your gentle and tired smile, the sunshine that came through the window and fell on your face making you look magical. Ell shook his head, trying to push the strange thoughts away.

A day later, Princess Charming announced a search for her future husband. For the mysterious stranger with whom the girl had danced had escaped! But left his shoe on the castle stairs. The news went round the kingdom and you grimaced in disgust and looked at Ella, who only laughed embarrassedly.

"We didn't dance with anyone at the ball, not even the princess" Anastasis caught you at work as you hung the laundry.

"Why do I need this information?" you said uncertainly.

"Shouldn't we be rewarded for it?" Drizel appeared from the other side, and you felt yourself stiffen.

"What reward?" you turned to the dark-eyed man.

"Let's think about it...it's boring...it's about nothing too...hmmmmm....o! Kiss us!" exclaimed the red-haired young man, leaning in slightly.

"You must be confused about something...You're not sick, young gentlemen?" you looked round fearfully, but you were hidden behind huge sheets and no one could see you.

"Maybe we are sick, that's why we're waiting for you to act," Drizel exhaled heavily.

"Young gentlemen, I don't like to be joked about. Especially not a funny joke!"

"A joke!?" Anastasis looked at you in surprise.

"Of course; did you think I wouldn't understand at once? What could rich men find in an ordinary maid? Don't make me laugh!" you turned to the ropes to correct the cloth behind you, although it was perfectly hung, but you wanted to avoid an unnecessary outburst of emotion.

Anastasis, who had a fiery temper and high impatience, turned you round to look into your eyes. Without thinking long, he dug his lips into yours, gently and gently crushing them, he was assertive and quick, and then he pulled away. You didn't have time to recover when you were turned the other way. Drizzel's lips came to yours in the same way, but it was a light touch of lips, so gentle, you thought it was the way kisses were given to very young people who were just learning the delights of love. He pulled away from you, trying to hide his embarrassment behind a cough.

"How weak... "said Anastasis mockingly.

"Shut up," said Drizel firmly and sternly.

"we're not playing around! We really like you, and we're interested in you. At first it was just normal curiosity," the redhead decided to explain himself.

"But then the feelings got stronger. You're different, different from all the people we've met. You're alive, not formulaic. You're not a written character in some story that's already been decided for!" continued Drizel.

"Think about our words," Anastasis pleaded.

"I will think about it, but you forgot one thing..."

"What?"

"Your father..." you heard the young boys growl disgruntledly.

"We'll think of something...just think about how you feel..." finished Drizel, gently running his hand over your cheek.

That was the end of your conversation, leaving you confused and inspired. You already knew what kind of answer you could give them.

The next morning, a high ranking duke arrived at the manor with a magic shoe. It could be seen that it was made of quality leather that was covered with sequins and patterns, no cobbler could make such exquisite shoes. At this moment, you were downstairs preparing everything for breakfast. But you hadn't seen Ell for a long time; you thought he was the first to come in to measure your own shoes, but he seemed to have disappeared.

While Anastasis and Drizel were grudgingly measuring shoes, a few at a time, to the shouts of their father, you brushed past them, and ran up the stairs towards your friend's room, when you pulled the handle you realised it was closed.

"Ell, are you in there?" you asked quietly.

"Y/n, yes, I'm here, release me, hurry up, my father locked me in, I have to go downstairs!" the man muttered hysterically.

"alright, wait!"

You knew the key to the lock was in the keywoman's possession, and Mr Tremaine most likely took it from her. And most likely he had that key. You thought for a few seconds and took a hairpin out of your hair, bent it out and put it through the keyhole. It took a lot of work, but the door yielded to these manipulations, and Ell opened the door with a jerk, running past you. You exhaled heavily, and stood up, it was time to see what would happen next, after all this story had to end somehow.

When you came downstairs you saw Ell's beautiful shoe being placed on his foot, and a little later he pulled out the exact same one. Mr Tremaine squealed, freaked out, and went off somewhere in the hall.

The Count, who was putting a boot on Ella, took him under his arm:

"Have you any things you wish to take away?" asked the dark-haired Count.

"No sir, I have nothing here," replied Ell modestly.

They walked out the door and you quickly made your way downstairs, running past your brothers, who stood boredly off to the side, waiting for it all to be over.

"Ell!" you shouted after your friend.

The men turned around and the earl nodded to your friend, leaving you alone.

"My Y/N, can you believe I'm about to be a prince!" said Ell happily.

"Ah...don't you want to take me with you?" you asked a risqué question, already knowing the answer. Ell was a little taken aback.

"Why?"

"You could make me a servant at the castle, I'd earn more so I could provide for my family. You know I'm good at my job," you rambled, Ell exhaled heavily and grabbed your shoulders, squeezing them unpleasantly.

"My sweet fool, you have to stay here and take care of my house. What if something happens to it?" Ot smiled grimly as he did so, his mood changing again.

Drizel, who came out of the house immediately rushed towards you and pulled Ell's hand away, clutching it tightly. In fact, the blond-haired young man is much weaker than Drizel, so Ell backed off.

"Are you ordering me to stay here even if the estate is empty?" you asked angrily and Ell pulled away slightly, rubbing his wrist.

"why not?"

"You're a piece of shit Ell, I wish I'd noticed it sooner...I clung to our friendship so much I ignored all the signs. You're no different to any man, just as greedy and vile!" there were no tears, no, you didn't want to cry in front of your ex mate.

"The past should stay in the past, my dear friend," Ell was just as angry that you stopped acting the way he was comfortable with.

"Do you even hear yourself, you little bug!?" Anastasis appeared out of the blue.

"Brothers, you're so nice to protect my Y/N, now I can go to my castle in peace and not worry about anything happening to her," Ell smiled slyly.

"You... "The red-haired youth wanted to punch Ell, but Drizel stood in front of him, holding him up.

"Come to your senses, he's provoking on purpose, if you keep this up you'll end up in jail,"

"Well, I take it we've sorted everything out. I wish you the best of luck. Y/n take care of my estate," Ell quickly turned around and hurried to the carriage, after a couple of minutes, it touched off and Ell waved happily.

You and the brothers stood and watched this without hiding their disgust. Drizel gently put his arm around your shoulders and led you into the manor.

"Don't worry Y/n, we'll figure something out, WE'll be fine too," Anastasis added, snuggling up to your side.

Ell was appointed prince, he had a happy wedding. Now he was the one being served, not him. He walked proudly through the corridors of the castle, looking around. He sent several letters to his estate, but received no reply.

So three years passed, and the answer finally came. But not from his 'dear friend', but from the keywoman who occasionally stopped by the house to check on his condition:

"Dear Prince Ell,

This is your old keywoman Isolde writing to you. You sent a bunch of letters, I read them, pardon my impertinence. They were dedicated to Y/n, but she has been gone from this house for a long time. After your wedding, Y/n and the young lords fled the kingdom and went on a long journey. Lord Tremaine languished, and died a year after your coronation. Please, our sweet prince, don't write here, you won't get a reply. Now you live happily and richly, as does our dear Y/N. They say she married one of the brothers, that's why they all ran away. I wish you happiness!

Your Isolde."

Ell stopped writing, he was filled with anger and resentment. How dare you disobey him!? Married!? Ran away!?

Ell didn't write again, but the desire to find you was too strong. He himself was frightened by this desire that came from nowhere. But he would do anything to find you and bring you back.

[enchantingarcadecreation]

This is mostly based on these three ideas I had circling in my little head please send help. 

Warring States Period - First Idea

Kaguya won in this timeline and only Team Seven survived, both past and present (Sakura, Naruto, Sai, Sasuke, Tenzo, Kakashi, and Obito (all in a total of seven :D)), and so they went into a new timeline as they used their last bit of Chakra to destroy their timeline so Kaguya will never escape and take over other dimensions 

Relationships 

ObKk because I somehow am in a toxic yaoi shipper cycle, god help

Sasuke and Sakura will stay together because I have a massive pin collection with amazing pins of these two so it made me biased

Naruto and Sai are without any partners since their timeline got fucked

Pray

Ok so let me go over some little details I like to have

Uchihas love so fucken deeply its not even funny so when their loved ones are threatened, all hell breaks loose,

Hatakes are a feral clan and while they are seen as “domestic” in modern times not so much in the Warring States, there are two reactions. One (stupid) people will try to fight them to scare them off (ha) or are scared to high heaven and back away from them

Hatakes have fangs and have habits like touching and calling their close ones pack and mate and pup if considered pack 

Yes all of his students are his pups and Tenzo is affectionately called a sapling once he realizes that is a THING for Senju’s to say to their young

Tenzo secretly loves it

But before he never said it out loud since, you know, trauma

Hatakes are territorial of their pack so if anyone messes with their pack when they can’t handle it you are going to wake up with your throat being ripped apart from Hatake teeth

Having a Hatake and Uchiha couple might be a pair made in shinobi heaven if I think in that sense

Fear them

Kakashi gives head pats like it is free candy

Everyone decided to have the Hatake clan symbol on them to place a barrier between them and other warring clans because no one likes to mess with Hatakes (only dumb people do, aka, the political greedy people)

Oh wait I found my plot!

Sakura is still considered a civilian during this time, with no family name or any of that sort since, back then, a civilian was too poor to have a last name, so she, alongside Sai, are now Hatake. 

Since Hatake’s have a pack mentality they do have the occasion of adopting outside their clan and giving their last name, however, there have been very few cases in which a clan outsider is adopted into the Hatake. Usually, this is issued to the clan head of that clan and things will get sorted out. But, because Sasuke, Naruto, and Tenzo are time travelers, no one knows of them nor are they official in the clan registry they don’t do that. 

 Bastard children if you will, and while it's possible for both Naruto and Tenzo that is going to be difficult to tell with Sasuke and Obito

So they decided not to use their last names in such situations unless officially asked if they were of [instert clan here] and just said they are by blood

After all, last names are a claim so they are careful to say they are a Uchiha, Uzumaki, or Senju

Do they claim them?

I mean no?????

Let's say no

They are blood-related but do not claim name, claim blood, not name. If named they are shipped to the clan’s compound and goodbye pack member. 

NOT ON KAKASHI’S WATCH

Ok so, timeline!

I’m gonna make it about maybe a year or more before the death of Inzuma

Just because I can and because tension is still there

But not THE tension if you know what I mean

I want Tobirama to feel like something is wrong with the Chakra signatures floating around but I want Hashirama to know first what the actual problem is with the forest warning him about a pack he should not cross

Why the forest?

Because they feel another person with the forest within them

Aka Tenzo

Case and point

They find Sasuke first by accident

It was a patrol of Senju who found him and immediately didn’t know what to do but they had to capture the thing because obviously it was a Uchiha

They corner him and they are about to catch him when the trees start to move

At first, they think it's their clan head who came to trap him 

But no

The branches are capturing THEM and leaving the Uchiha alone

So now they are confused

Confused they see a man with short chestnut hair come out from nowhere, take the Uchiha into his arms, and warns them that they shouldn't mess with a Hatake cub

And

Disappears

They promptly freak the fuck out

I'll add more later and edit more of my other two ideas cus I can. Nice to do a break on the dcxdp fandom not gonna lie.

Part 2 | Part 3

[enchantingarcadecreation]

THE REVEREND AN: maybe ill make a part two if theres interest. TW: yandere, implied non con, older man younger woman, religious trauma, age gap, forced marriage, kinda uses stereotypes about deep south towns, i apologize if you are from a town like this, not proofread i wrote this in 3 hours

thinking of a filthy old preacher. <33

you grew up in a small, run down town buried deep in the mississippi delta, where the summer air is thick as pudding and the only thing people love more then fox news is jesus christ. all two hundred people who inhabit your zip code are good, god fearin' folk who go to church on sundays and wednesdays, say their prayers before bed and read the bible when they wake up in the morning. kids are in bible school before they ever set foot in actual school, they keep on going until they're graduated and they can teach the next generation. if your a good, devout christian, youre deemed good, if you're anthing else, youre shunned.

since you came out of the womb, you've known the lord.

and since you've known the lord, you've known the reverend.

the reverend's church has been the cornerstone of your community for decades now, years before you were even born. he's tall and broad, handsome, but getting up there in age, his face creased by wrinkles, his hair and beard deep silver. He doesn't act it, though. no, he preaches the word of god with just as much zealousness as he did at twenty years old. He's a born leader. strict enough to earn the toughened farmers respect, but with enough southern charm to win over all the grannies. his church runs bake sales and social events, bible studies and sunday school. he keeps the community in line, uniform, united under the good word of the lord. a man who truly embodies jesus teachings.

that's how it seems, at least, until you turn eighteen.

you don't notice at first how his gaze starts to linger on you during sermon, eyes set for just a tad too long on the way your lovely little church dress clings to your curves, the darling ribbon you've tied in your hair. you're a little southern belle - delicate, supple. still just a slip of a thing, really, but blossoming. he finds himself asking the lord for forgiveness in his prayers at night for being distracted by temptation, but he simply can't stop himself. every time you stand up from the church pews and he catches a glimpse of plush thigh, or you bend over and he gets a peak down your shirt at your succulent little breasts, his heart throbs, and so does the tent in his pants.

it's only a matter of time before lingering gazes become lingering touches - a hand on the small of your back as he walks you out of church, a soft squeeze on your shoulder when he notices you stocking shelves at your convenience store job. his eyes darken when he looks at you, and it makes you scared.

you try to convince yourself that all of it is just a coincidence. the reverend is a good man, treated you like family your whole life. how could the most holy man you know be thinking of something so... debauched. you pray for forgiveness for even having the thought.

but he keeps on pushing, doing little things that keep you awake at night, just wonderin. on monday evenings, you attend womens bible study with some of the other girls in town, but his lectures start focusing less on christ and more on marriage.

"Now, I know we're runnin' out of time today but I want to leave you girls with one final anecdote." he says, leaning against the wooden desk at the front of the churches classroom "I hate to admit it since it makes me feel old, but y'all aren't girls anymore. It's my responsibility as your reverend to set you down a holy path." his eyes sweep over the room, lingering on each face for just a moment before landing on yours, "In the book of Timothy, chapter two, verse twelve, it says 'I want women to be holy and devoted to their husbands, so that they may encourage their husbands to live in a way that is pleasing to the Lord.'" He lets his words hang in the air for a few moments, eyes still set on you, but now glinting with something that makes your stomach curl. You find yourself gripping your bible a little tighter.

"Y'all are good girls, I've known most of ya since you were kids" he says, pushing himself off the desk, "But you're grown now, and so it's time for y'all to start thinking about takin' a husband. It's your duty not only to the lord, but to your community."

His footsteps grow closer to your desk until his shadow is cast over the text in your hand, but you don't dare look up at him. You wonder if he notices you trembling, hears your heart pounding in your chest. "God made woman as a vessel for life." he continues, voice low and resonant. "To have children with your husband and let him lead you and your family in the way of the lord is your purpose. I want y'all to remember that in these upcoming years."

He lingers for just a moment more before snapping the bible in his hands shut and making his way back to the front of the classroom. "That's it for today. I hope y'all have a blessed night. I'll see you on Wednesday."

You scramble to pack up your things and hurry out of the classroom with your friends, but you can feel his gaze on the back of your neck the whole way out the door.

After months of staring and touching and preaching about purity and the wickedness of women, you can't deny it anymore. Your reverend feels some type of way for you. He looks at you in a way no godly man should look at a girl thirty years younger then him. And the worst part is, your community is congratulating you for it. When he asked you to take a summer job at the church, your friends whined about how lucky you were to have gotten his attention. When you told your parents the reverend has been paying a lot of attention to you recently, they were delighted and told ou this would give you an opportunity to move up in the church.

and you were a good girl. you could deal with his comments about how nicely you'll fill out once you're a mother, tolerate when his "accidental touches" started to last longer and become more invasive. You were fine, all of it was fine.

At least, until you walked home from your friends house one night to find him sitting with your parents in the living room.

You didn't walk into the room, didn't bother to check what he was talking about. You already knew. How could you not, when he'd already asked you what size ring you wear and told you it would be in your best interest start tracking when you bleed "for your future husbands’ sake.”

The part that really made you sick, though, was that your parents were smiling. Nodding their heads and chuckling like lovesick fools at whatever honey-sweet words he was using to coerce them into wedding off their daughter to a man her fathers age.

You waited in bed that night until you were sure everyone was asleep, and then, with the utmost care, slipped out of bed. You pulled whatever cash you had stashed away in the shoebox under your bed and slipped whatever bills you could find in your dads pocket in your bra before slipping out into the night.

you'd never thought too much about leaving town before. your town is buried in the deep, deep south, swallowed up on all sides by miles of corn and cotton. the nearest city is half-a-days trip away, and the towns people don't think too highly of the folks who live there. you found mrs. jenkins next door cryin on the porch one time, cross in hand, pleading for god to save her son from the wicked ideas he'd gotten since movin there.��since then, you'd stopped wondering too much about whatever else there might be in the world.

but if this was what a life of holiness looked like, a life of carrying children for a man who was thirty on the day you were born, a life of tending his home and warming his bed and smiling while you do it because thats what jesus would have wanted, a life where no one would listen to your cries for help because they're either too brainwashed by the reverends teachings to think he could ever be anything but righteous or too scared of going to hell to speak up, you might as well be in hell already.

with a pounding heart, you peddle your bike down to your local bus stop and listen to crickets chirp until you hear the screech of the greyhound bus pull in front of you. You stand up from your seat and climb up the metal steps, taking a seat at the back. Outside the window, up on the hill, you see the church lights glowing through it's windows and you think of your parents, and your friends and the lord who you're betraying tonight. what will they think when they find out you've left? you'll never be allowed back. everything you once knew is in this town.

...but so is the future it offered you. so is the reverend and the ring he'll propose to you with and the bed he'll breed you in n your wedding without a lick of concern for how you feel about it. and a part of you, a dangerous, but very real part of you, needs to know you tried to avoid that fate.

even if it means going to hell

the bus engine starts to rumble. the display screen above the drivers head flashes with your final destination: JACKSON, MS. You watch out the window as the bus rolls out of the station and the churches light starts to dim in the distance. Across the horizon, the sun has started to rise over the town and for the first time in months, you allow yourself to cry.

you don't know that about a mile down the road, mrs. jenkins is making a mighty racket outside of the reverends house, still in her nightgown and slippers.

he grumbles as he pulls open the front door, putting on the most genial smile he can manage at five in the morning. "Ah, Mary. What's the matter darling, what's got you so up in arms?" he asks, doing his best to keep the bite out of his tone.

"The girl!" mrs jenkins gasps, "The L/N's girl!"

Suddenly, he's wide awake. "Y/N? What about her?" he asks, now standing alert.

"I-I was sittin' on my porch to smoke a cigarette. Couldn't sleep, y'know? And I was havin a bunch of those satanic dreams I've been tellin you about-" she rambles.

"We can talk about that later." he asserts, losing patience. "The girl, Mary."

"Oh! It's just terrible reverend!" she wails, grabbing onto his shoulders for stablity, "I saw her runnin' out of her house in the dead of night, wanderin off who knows where! And that girl, she's a good girl you know. Ive known her since her mammy and daddy brought her home from the hospital and i ain't ever seen her run off at odd hours like that! I think-" she pales, her voice lowering to a hiss, "I think she might be possessed."

The reverend processes what she just told him slowly, carefully. You ran away. You snuck out at night and ran off somewhere the night after he asked your parents for their blessing. He tries to calm the rage bubbling in his chest, takes a breath as he pats the old woman's back. "Hush now, peace be with you." he mumbles, waiting for her to collect herself. "Now, I need you to tell me which way she ran, Mary. This is important."

The woman sniffles, looking up at the reverend with big watery eyes. "Last I saw, she was headed east."

East. Towards the bus stop.

The reverend see's red.

[enchantingarcadecreation]

Ask is inspired by the other anon ask about monster marriage rituals…

Do you think any monster baby shower rituals exist?

For humans, there’s stuff like gender reveal parties, maternity photo shoots, etc. So what do monsters do to celebrate the arrival of a new monster?

I love these questions!

Back in the day, in tight-knit monster communities, waiting for a baby wasn’t all that different from how humans did it. A lot of times, it wasn't just the parents getting ready, it was the whole village. There was this strong sense that a new baby belonged to everyone in some way. It was just in their nature to care for the young as the future of their kind.

Elders were always nearby, telling stories, giving advice, and knowing exactly which herbs helped with sleep or what foods to avoid. Younger adults made sure the expecting parents, especially the mother, had everything: food, comfort, safety. If the father was away hunting or busy with some task, no one worried; family, neighbors, everyone stepped in without a second thought.

And when the baby came, that care didn’t stop. Elders helped with the little one, older kids fetched things and learned by doing. Children didn’t grow up with just their parents, they grew up with everyone. There were always hands to catch them, voices to guide them, eyes to watch over them.

They say it takes a village to raise a child. For monsters, it really did.

And as the years went on, and these old clans, packs, and villages started opening up to other kinds of monsters and humans a lot of those traditions stayed the same. The spirit of community, of everyone coming together for a new life, didn’t just vanish.

But there were surprises...

Orcs, for example, were absolutely stunned at how vulnerable human women could seem during pregnancy. Orc women are strong, physically, emotionally, and spiritually, so when the orc husbands saw their human partners going through all the discomfort; fatigue, nausea, and other changes, it was a full-blown panic. And not just from the dads, the entire clan went into protective overdrive. It took time (and some very firm conversations) for them to accept that just because human women didn’t look as tough didn’t mean they weren’t strong. Eventually, they learned that their wives were warriors too just a different kind.

Minotaurs were downright horrified when they found out that, in some human cultures, the men didn’t stay for the birth. They couldn’t wrap their heads around it. Among minotaurs, and honestly, among a lot of other monster folks, it was completely normal and expected for the partner to be right there from the first contraction to the first cry. Not just for emotional support, but for protection, for presence, for love. The idea of leaving felt not just strange, but dishonorable.

The nesting instincts hit the wolf-shifters like a freight train. The moment they knew a baby was on the way, it was all about the den. Comfort became the top priority. If the house needed fixing, expanding, or completely rebuilding, no problem. The women often find half the pack outside, hammering away, building a new room, dragging in furniture, or crafting handmade decorations. It was all about making sure their mate had the safest, softest, warmest place to rest. And rakshasas were pretty much the same. I mean, they’re big cats as I said so many times already. Of course they love cozy spaces, blankets, plush pillows, warm fires, and everything soft. Their partners were treated like royalty; pampered, adored, and surrounded by every comfort imaginable.

Goblins, though? They were a bit of a different story. For them, it was all about planning and information. Is that food safe? Should you be sleeping on your side? What’s the backup plan if labor starts during a storm? They always had plan B, plan C, even a plan Z if it came down to it. Charts, notes, books, little magical contraptions, whatever it took to keep things under control. If something went wrong, you could bet a goblin had already thought of it and written down a solution three weeks ago.

But this big shift (monsters and humans mixing more, communities becoming more open and connected) was the biggest game changer for the monsters who had always lived solitary lives. For some of them, it wasn’t just about starting a family, it was about finally finding one.

Most of the time dragons, nagas, incubi, and succubi lived alone by nature. Some drifted, some guarded their solitude like treasure, and some just didn’t know any other way. So when the world started changing, and they found partners from different cultures, it wasn’t just about welcoming a baby. It was about discovering what it meant to belong to something bigger.

And now, let’s jump into the modern world and focus on these monsters because I’ve got thoughts:

A part of them is still a little shocked by it, even after all these years. Their ancestors lived alone for so long that the instinct to rely only on themselves is still there.

For dragons and nagas, this shift is honestly a huge relief. Having family and friends to lean on, people they trust to help and share in the joy means the world. They don’t have to stay on high alert, guarding their partner like treasure. Now, they know there is a whole circle of loved ones ready to protect, care, and celebrate with them.

Dragons love baby showers. Not just for socializing (though they enjoy that too), but let’s be real; it’s the gifts. Even if they are technically for the baby or the mama, their hoarding instinct kicks in hard. Soft blankets, tiny clothes, bottles in every color? Treasure, and they organize it all with pride. No one blinks when a dragon shows up with a cart overflowing with baby gear. Their oversized car is already packed to the roof with more anyway. By the time the baby arrives, the family has everything, and then some. It’s not unusual to find piles of unworn baby clothes because the little one outgrows them too fast.

Nagas, meanwhile, adore the days after the birth when friends and family visit with warm food and open arms. They are so proud to show off their baby, letting loved ones coo and fuss while they bask in the joy. And if it’s baby number two or three, even better. That just means more love, more laughter, more warmth in their home. Nagas just want to belong, to feel supported through all that change, and not go through it alone.

For succubi, it’s not just about starting families, it’s about not being left behind anymore.

There was a time when no one imagined them settling down. People saw them as desire, not devotion, certainly not "mother or wife material". Back then, desire didn’t always come with loyalty or love.

But things have changed. Now, they are pampered, cared for and seen. Not because someone wants something from them, but because people genuinely care.

And they absolutely love gender reveal parties. Not because of the surprise, really, but because everyone gathers just for them. To celebrate their moment. To share the joy of something real and personal. It’s a room full of smiling faces, laughter, maybe some tears, and for once, they’re the center of attention in a way that’s loving, not lustful.

For incubi, it’s about learning how to be a dad and how to be a real partner, someone who shows up beyond charm or desire. In the past, settling down and building a family wasn’t just unexpected, it was almost unthinkable. No one saw them as the type, and honestly, neither did they.

But now they are all in. They thrive on the structure, the shared life, the steady love. Being a dad gives them purpose in a way nothing else ever did.

And like nagas, they cherish that sweet time after the baby arrives; visits, gifts, loved ones cooing over the newborn. They are proud of the life they’ve built and the role they’ve grown into because now, they have something they never thought they’d get: a family of their own. And it turns out, they’re damn good at it.

So like I said, for some monsters, waiting for a new life wasn’t all that different from how humans did it. But for others, the way their world has changed, the shift in how they live and love, meant everything.

[enchantingarcadecreation]

This is really cool

I'm thinking of a Furina!MC who was never able to get close to Neuvillette due to her being forced by Focalors to act like a an arrogant, bratty goddess.

I'm thinking of a Furina!MC who was treated much more roughly during the trial that was planned against her. Everyone looking at her with cold eyes filled with disgust.

Everyone hates her. Has always hated her. Even when she wanted to scream it wasn't the true her, Focalors wouldn't allow it. After all puppets don't talk without their puppeteer's permission.

And when the Hydro throne shatters, killing Focalors, and Neuvillette is declaring Fontaine innocent of their 'sins'... Furina!MC walks away.

I imagine that unlike canon, where Furina would get a Hydro vision, gifted to her by Neuvillette, it never happens to Furina!MC. Neuvillette despised her... and she wasn't going to stick around in a place where no one wanted her in the first place.

I imagine a Furina!MC who somehow managed to stumbles into Sumeru and is scooped up by an annoyed Wanderer who was ordered by Nahida to collect her.... And is shocked when Nahida hugs her, her small form warm as she clings onto Furina!MC tightly, saying she was so happy to finally meet her.

Furina!MC cries on the spot.

It domino affects from there on.

I imagine a Furina!MC who is practically spoiled during her stay in Sumeru, as Nahida thought she deserved it, and to her surprise, the other Archon (barring the Cryo) suddenly popped in, as apparently Nahida sent messages to them about Furina!MC.

I imagine the Archons adoring Furina!MC on the spot, and seeing through the shell she had to wear. She wasn't arrogant or bratty at all. She was shy, sweet, and so, so very tired.

I imagine how Zhongli, Venti, and Ei would then bicker over who's nation Furina!MC should live in now since Fontaine was out of the question while Nahida offered her more snacks.

I imagine it would eventually end with Zhongli being the winner, and with promises from the other Archons that they would come and visit her often, Furina!MC is spirited away to Liyue.

I imagine Neuvillette stumbling across Furina!MC during a business trip to Liyue one day, years later. A Furina!MC with a Glaze Lily in her hair, wearing yellow and brown instead of white and blue, a Geo Vision on her hip, and most of all ... a small baby bump.

[enchantingarcadecreation]

I can see alucard and her living in the castle and marrying each other.

Yandere Twilight/ castlevania idea

fem reader

Let's start off. You are a human and guess what you're adopted by Charlie after an incident that happened with your parents. so you live in forks with him 24/7 unlike Bella who is with her mother, but you do see her whenever she is around. You know of the Cullen but think they are a little weird because 1 they are as white as a corpse and 2 to you they smell of old people. But hey at least they are really pretty.

You also see the wolf pack around and also think it’s weird that they don’t wear shirts like basically ever.

Anyways Bella is living with you and Charlie because of her mom’s traveling. You're were so excited to have another girl in the house.

You got her to meet your friends (the friend group Bella always hangs with) and everything. You slowly started to notice that ever since Bella came around people started acknowledging you less and less. Your friend, people you know around town, and even Charlie. You thought at first maybe it’s because he’s happy Bella’s back, so you leave it alone until you see he’s barely talking or even looking at you. Slowly he’s been constantly forgetting you live in the same house, so he stopped inviting you to things he normally would. Whenever your “friends” come to talk to you it’s always about Bella now.

Now you might be thinking damn your friend less, but you did have one friend. Only you’ve never met him because he is kinda like your pen pal. You don’t remember how it started really, but you do talk to him on the phone quite a bit and send letters when you can because he prefers that over emails. Something that you do know is that his name is Adrain tepes, but he prefers Alucard. And that he lives in Transylvania, Romania.(that totally isn’t I big give away into who he is)

Other than that you could admit your jealousy at first, but after waiting a few months and nothing happening about your being brushed off and somewhat neglected you leave as soon as you’ve graduated.

You travel around for a while and end up in Romania. You decide to write Alucard a letter that you’re in the country and wish to meet him in person. He, practically being your best friend, said yes to the request.

When you finally meet him it’s at his father, or now his, castle. While staying with him you learn he’s a vampire/dhampir. So he sits you down and explains that there are two different species of his kind. One that sparkles when in the sun and the other that burns into ashes.The latter didn’t know his species (let’s call them specters) existed but spectators definitely knew that the sparkling ones existed. One thing confused you seeing as he was in the sun with you before, and he sees this and explains how he is a hybrid between vampires and humans. Slowly he tells you about how his mother, Lisa, and his father, Vlad Dracula, met and the things he’s learned/ adventures he’s had over the centuries. After learning all this he assumes you would hate him, but you could never. Seeing as he was your sun when everything was going dark around you. That was the first time you’ve ever seen him cry. Sadly you didn’t know he was planning on keeping you with him, but what you just said had solidified it meaning he’s never letting you go.

Back in forks Charlie started noticing something was off. It took him about a month to realize you had left. When he did he asked Bella and the pack if they had seen you at all. On his day off he asked if they could come to his place and talk about when they had last seen you. Surprisingly the Cullens had come along. Slowly they had put together that you had left and they couldn’t do much with you being a legal adult now. It made Charlie upset because he misses you after remembering all the things you used to do together. Bella was also sad because she remembered how excited you were to have her there and wanted to be a better sister to you. So the cullens and pack said they would look for you and try to convince you to come home for his and Bella’s sake.

I love writing cross over fanfics for some reason. I thought it would be interesting if I made them yandere. Also I’m imagining Alucard in the first show because HIS OUTFIT WAS SO COOL!! Idk if I should have any more love interest other than Alucard himself, give me suggestions if you have any. Sadly this has been going through my brain other than my other story, sorry.😔I’m having a weird obsessions with vampires lately.

WHAT A BEAUTY 💕

[enchantingarcadecreation]

"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.

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[enchantingarcadecreation]

Got kind of a weird one for you, but I'm weird, lol. Can you do a Yandere Batfam x Lightning McQueen Reader where she loves racing, but the family ignores her, thinking it's just a hobby and that it's not worth their time? Then she becomes famous after making her big debut and becomes rivals with a new racer who's like Jackson Storm. It's like an enemies to lovers trope. Jackson is also a Yandere, lol. Then at her and Jackson's engagement party, the Batfam shows up, uninvited, mind you, and tries to bring her back, but she refuses, and Jackson, after kicking them out, threatens the family to never come back, and that Reader is now his and doesn't belong to the family before returning to his lovely fiancée while the Batfam wallows in misery :D

The roar of the crowd was deafening.

Bright lights. Blinding cameras. Champagne fountains.

Your name — no, your brand — was everywhere: on hats, jackets, even the back of some guy’s shaved head. You stood at the center of it all in a sleek, custom racing jumpsuit, red and gold with your insignia etched in chrome.

And next to you, all smug smirks and hungry eyes, was Jackson Storm — Gotham’s newest obsession, and your fiercest rival turned fiancé.

He had an arm lazily draped around your waist, fingers playing with the zipper on your suit, and you let him. He was infuriating, infatuated, and entirely yours now.

What a shame the Batfamily was only figuring that out tonight.

Two years ago, you begged them to come to your first qualifier.

“It’s just racing,” Tim had said.

“You could be doing real hero work,” Bruce added.

They didn’t show. Not once.

Even Jason, your favorite, shrugged you off. “I don’t do NASCAR, doll.”

So you went alone. You won alone.

And you kept winning.

“You’re fast,” Jackson had hissed into your ear after one particularly brutal track day. “But I’ll ruin you before you ever beat me again.”

You beat him anyway.

The next week, he sent flowers. The week after that? A ring.

He was possessive. Dangerous. Smug.

You hated him. Then you didn’t. Now? You’d die for him.

“Doll,” Jackson purred beside you, glass of sparkling wine in hand. “We’ve got pests.”

Your eyes snapped up.

Standing at the edge of the private rooftop party — tuxes wrinkled, uninvited and clearly unwelcome — was the Batfam.

Bruce. Dick. Tim. Jason. Even Damian.

You felt the ice creep up your spine.

Jason was the first to step forward, voice strained. “Kid… we just wanna talk.”

“You didn’t even look at me,” you snapped. “Not until Gotham started chanting my name.”

“Racing isn’t who you are—” Bruce started.

Jackson let out a dark chuckle. “Correction. It’s exactly who she is.”

He stepped forward, placing himself between you and the family like a wall of matte black and raw intent.

“Back off,” he said, all teeth. “You lost her. I found her. And she’s not going anywhere with you.”

“You can’t control her,” Tim shot back.

“Can’t I?” Jackson grinned, pulling you close, lips brushing your temple. “You had your chance. You wasted it. Now? She’s mine.”

The Batfam froze.

“Leave,” you said coldly. “Before I ask security to escort you.”

“Or I do it myself,” Jackson added, voice dropping to a growl.

One by one, they left. Slowly. Broken. Eyes downcast.

Damian was the last to turn away, jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.

You didn’t watch them go.

Instead, you leaned into Jackson’s touch as he wrapped his arms around you again, possessive and warm.

“They’ll come back,” he murmured.

“They won’t find me,” you whispered back.

And they never would.

[enchantingarcadecreation]

Masterlist

Christopher Reed

The Third Strongest National Hunter and His Healer: Christopher Reed x Healer!Reader

Headcannon

Based On the Headcannon:

The First Meeting

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You're Mine

Chapters: | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

Summary: You’re Chairman Go’s omega granddaughter who knew and dated alpha Christopher Reed as a teenager when you lived in the US well aware of his yandere tendencies and accepted it. You lost contact but reunited due to various chairmen agreeing to an experiment to pair high-ranking alphas with high-ranking omegas in hopes to produce more Hunter based families. Reed comes back for you and utilizes his rank to make sure you’re his chosen omega for the project. Adventures of alpha yandere!Reed and his omega.

Inspired by mullermilkshake’s yandere!Jinwoo series, which is excellent. Y’all should go read it. I have an unhealthy attachment to Reed, so this is more self-indulgent as most of my fics are. Hope you all still enjoy it though. I don't condone yandere behavior IRL.

You can also enjoy it on Ao3 if you prefer reading it there over Tumblr.

[enchantingarcadecreation]

Yeah ask for a raise. Also the two kids become childhood friends to lovers

You know the Grimm version of Snow White makes more sense than most versions if only because in that version Snow White was like 7 years old.

[enchantingarcadecreation]

I like how she just ignores her family’s attempts to talk to her. Suffer. This is really good.

The Crimson Snuff

(Yandere vampire family x female elf reader x yandere elven family)

(The video is not mine, original post, It's from the anime vampire hunter D bloodlust )

[Again, as I usually say in everything I write, English is not my first language, so if there is any mistakes made in creation of this text, I apologize]

Note: this text is inspired by this post.

Another note: for better imagination I recommend seeing costumes of the movie Le reign margot and the anime vampire hunter D blood lost for the general atmosphere of it, for more inspiration you can also look up Requiem chevalier vampire by Olivier ledriot. All of the characters belong to me, and if you'd like to read more of this universe, I'd love to provide. This is my take on some tropes of manhwas and if you are the type to love the obsessive family over long lost daughter or something like that, I'm tired of them lol. Enjoy this while listening to the harpsichord playing!

Another another note: it's sort of a sci-fi fantasy gothic setting

I was thinking of making this longer than other stuff I've made since it's oc and I'd like to ramble about details.

Tw: yandere tendencies, mentions of death, torture and injuries, emotional and physical abuse, racism (fantasy races).

@shenryu-sama

"Damn..." your phone fell from your hand and hit the mattress with a soft thud as you tried to process what you had just read "How can someone be so...cruel?" You mumbled to yourself, your voice muffled under your blanket. Holding your hand against your mouth, You felt your stomach churn as you tried not to recall the scene you had just read, but the image relayed in your mind over and over. You had read far worse things, but why this one stuck in your head and made you so sick, you didn't know. You looked at your phone's screen which was set to low brightness to not hurt your already throbbing eyes since your nightly habit was catching up with you, and watched the words dance under your unfocused gaze as you remembered the scene, your imaginative mind trying to create it for your mind's eye.

"As he strode about the sacred garden, the flowers that pulsated with the holy energy of the goddess perished in the vicinity of his dark Aura that lingered on his person, their withered petals turning to ashes with the soft gust of wind his floating cape made. The statue of the saintess of the household cracked with the sheer magnitude of his very presence, her open arms falling off of her marble-carved body onto the dead soil. No creature of the night had reached such power, not without feeding from the countless souls ripped off their mortal flesh by their sharp claws, and yet...he seemed to have exceeded the qualifications of the dark ones, their heads bowed in respect to the depravity of their creation.

His smirk grew more sinister as he watched the massive mansion burn in the purple flames of his mages, the once blue-colored roofs now in flames, the top-tier wood turning to cursed coal that would never burn for anything holy, the screams of the inhabitants locked inside, in the air. He stood and watched, circling the small locked box between his fingers as he usually did, the smooth surface of the metallic box reminiscent of her soft skin, was a balm to his senses, well, at least the senses that were not numbed to the world outside, his hollow mind filled with nothing but carnage and...her.

"Ahh sweetling, not even he is burning as good as you did" his whisper was lost to the wind feeding the frenzied flames, and a soft scoff left his thinned lips "Even if he claimed to be the purest" he spat the word to the statue of the saintess that stared ahead, just as he. The familiar numb feeling in his mind reached downwards to his nonbeating heart, as his thumb gently pushed the button of the lock to make the box's lid open gently with a soft click, he didn't want to waste even a speck of the crimson powder inside "May I sweetling?" He asked in mock gentleness as he buried the tip of his claw into the powder "Bon appétit" he murmured with mockery, bringing the snuff to his nose and inhaling the finely grounded dust.

His eyes fluttered in ecstasy, the wide pupils moving upwards before rolling  "Ahhh sweetling" he called once more for his lady, her pure ashes coming down to his nasal cavity, coating his mouth in her taste, her perfume mixed with the ashes filling his senses, the tip of his pointed ears warming, just like a blushing boy...well, as much as his corrupt body would. "Watch sweetling, watch as I avenge us" he gestured to the State raised to ashes "Watch as they burn just as you did my beloved, I made them pay, just as I did you"

You wanted to throw up, what kind of a sick man would literally cannibalize his wife through snuff?! You trashed about in frustration, this villain was something else! Sure most villains were sick and twisted, but this bastard was supposed to fucking love his wife! What was all of this?! Why did it bother you so much though? It seemed like the scene made your own flesh burn, ack! This cursed novel sucked!

"Aaaaah!" You muffled your frustrated scream in your pillow, trying to be silent in the dead of the night. With a weak stupid protagonist who was supposed to be a Mary Sue "saintness" and a dumb male lead who didn't know boundaries and was toxic to his teeth, you didn't know how on the website's loaded server the author would manage to make this story make sense, which it did not! Plus the art style sucked! Ugh! After a few chapters of bodies proportioned so badly that made any good artist cry, you had switched to the novel to find any redeeming qualities since some stories were better in novel form but nope! It was still horse dump.

You scrolled past the text to read the comments, your eyes moving from one to another, everyone agreed with you on that, the novel sucked, many had thought it was because of the translation but a few had said it was just the same in its original language, a few had said the world building and the villain were the best parts and yet the compliment wasn't that good given the genuine sickness of the villain's character, UGH! Well the villain was as obscure as a shadow, you hadn't seen him in his drawn form, and you thanked the universe for that, after reading that scene you didn't want to associate anything with him!

Puffing the stale air of the covers you had pulled over your head you finally let it slide down, inhaling fresh air. You reached out for the VR headset you had managed to sneak out of your cousin's place, which they didn't even care about one bit since they were busy with their new gadgets, and put it on, making watching something light-hearted and nice or playing animal crossing would help you relax your mind, but as you shifted to sit up with the headset on, your phone from your mattress on the floor and you cursed under your breath, reaching down blindly to find it.

Your fingers moved on the floor, searching around, you bit your lip to focus, reaching a little further down without going off the bed, your lazy self not wanting to leave its warmth, but then you knocked the glass of water on your nightstand and it fell on your head, you gasped from the shock of it all, freezing, not just because of the water but also from the sharp "zzt" sound coming from the headset oh shi-

.

The sound of bombs could be heard in the distance, the troops of goddess Mekt kept bombarding the fallen city of Balna, but you knew the cavalry troops were on their way, everyone knew, and that was why there was a sense of dreadful urgency in the air that was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. The scent of the burnt flesh was in the air, making you sick to the point you thought you'd throw up by the polished boots of your kin, knowing whose flesh it was made it far far worse.

"I...I can't..." your voice shook as you clutched the large rifle in your hands, your limbs shaking from the weight of the weapon loaded with silver bullets. Your gaze looked upwards, in the dim light of the night, the shadows of the torches painted the pale faces of the company mounted on their steeds, the animals agitated from the noises and the sense of impending doom of the darkness that came with the approaching cavalry, their neighs jolting you here and there, the blood on your dress clung to your corset and skin.

"Just as incompetent as your mother" The ancient elf gritted his teeth in frustration, his sharp pale gaze on your person, his pointed ears sharply pointed upwards in a sign of anger and irritation.  "Do as you are told, woman!" He hissed, reaching forward to grasp your hair, pulling it so hard that you thought a chunk of the strands were ripped off "I said kill them! Have you gone deaf?!" He shook your upper body by your hair, your scalp burning "You are the only one who can kill them without their curse infecting you! Do it before it's too late!" He threw you back onto the ground, your face hitting the stoned ground, the warmth of blood dripping off of your bruised lip.

Your blurry eyes turned to the tall couple embracing each other a few feet away, the dark cape of the male draped over his mate, holding her head against his chest in an attempt to hide her from the danger of their inescapable death, his own eyes set upwards onto the stars, you'd think the silver-haired vampire was thinking of his home planet, he had so many times told you of his sweet memories from his lands, where he had flourished and thrived. Maybe in his own faith and hope, he thought his dark soul would join his ancestors in an eternal dance with the dark ones, maybe he thought this fate wasn't going to be the end of the love he shared with his beloved.

"I can't-" You didn't want to harm them, no, you could not, not when they had accepted you in with open arms, and not, especially when they grounded him- a pained gasp left you as pain coursed through your veins, the magic-infused staff of your father hitting your back over and over as the elven lord unleashed his frustration upon you, "I said pull.the.damned.trigger you incompetent pathetic excuse of an elf! Do it before I end them with you just out of spite of seeing you flayed!" He kept hitting you down, the voices of the couple before you muffled by the rushing blood into your ears...or maybe it was your own blood?

"Ardana!" A voice called, nearly beast-like, mixed with the frantic screams of the female vampire "Let me go! Let me go to her Eckhart! My child!", the beastly growls and demands of you being left alone though soon silenced the female one "Let her go! Let her go you filthy elves!" your haunched form didn't have to turn to see the caged vampire to know from where it was coming from, bound with silver cuffs, his flesh burning by the blessed alloy, his mind a frenzy both from the pain and the weight of his mate being beaten down in refusal of killing his parents.

You refused to do as you were told, your limbs crawling to hold onto the leg of the elven lord, your blood-covered limbs clutching onto the silky fabric of his robes, your will long fused with titanium. You knew the death of the dukedom's lady and lord would mean chaos, you had many times rethought your actions over and over, dreadful of the destiny carved out for you, but the staff's attack on your body were turning unbearable, your muscles giving in onto the beatings as your father let go of his long-held fury, making you his punchbag. You needed to buy time and it'd be over! Just a few more seconds and the cavalry would be here, just a few more...seconds...and your fate...and his...would change...

"ARDANA!"

The gravity of the ground pulled your unconscious body down, your soul long gone into the realm of dreams that you couldn't feel the pain of the impact "My sweetling! No! NO!" The desperate roars of the bound vampire were soon mixed in with the sound of the hooves of the mechanic steeds, your father's horrified gaze not leaving your bloodied form as he was pulled away by his men, his lips calling for your mother, his hands shaking with remorse and guilt.

It'd be worth it...right?

.

Cuteness Aggression is real, you had realized it early on when you were swallowing the fluffy head of the feline creature on your lap as you kissed her over and over, her fur getting into your nostrils but you could careless when you were squeezing her gently, and the cat actually enjoyed it! Trifine she was, a good-sized feline with sharp baby blue eyes and white fluffy hair, her meows soft and girly-like, her presence always glued to your side, she was a gift upon your coming of age ceremony, and the magic-infused animal was with you ever since. Her ears twitched as a butterfly sat on it's head, looking like an airplane with a look saying "Really now?" You giggled, scratching it's chin to which she swooned into, making the blue insect fly away into the gardens below.

"Mæa?" The cat looked up in confusion as you stopped kissing her head for the 45th time that hour, looking at your wide saucer eyes, those globes wanting your attention all the time, but the maids were busy braiding your hair and needed your head to be steady. You petted her head with an apologetic "It'll be done soon" your voice coming in a rather breathy feminine voice, which you had yet to get used to, yet still it felt odd using it. Trifine purred in contentment as she made biscuits on your thighs, letting the stress of waking up too early out, uncaring to the bustle of the maids in the room as they did your daily routine of getting ready, her pink bean toes leaving marks on the fabric of the towel draped over your lap.

Your gaze went to the reflection of your face in a small round mirror held up by a maid as she smiled at you, her bright eyes round and lovely "What do you say, your ladyship? Is the new hairstyle to your liking?" The round face of the dark-skinned elf stared at you through the reflection, framed by the clay flowers around the mirror, when Aradana had to respond, you did "Aye, it is quite lovely" Your long pointed ears twitched in delight as your shapely fingers touched your cheeks. It'd be embarrassing if you were to realize how expressive your ears were, letting on for your any emotion, that was why many ladies wore lace hats that restricted the movement of their ears and held them in place to hide their true emotions, just as they did by hiding their faces behind their fans.

The maids smiled at your satisfaction, they had trained hard to learn how to handle the unique hair texture of of the sun elves, which was rare in these grounds, but they were learning, and your mother was pleased. One maid powdered the golden-colored braids to ensure their health, the powder laced with a sweet calming perfume that filled the aura about you, giving your person an even more pleasing presence and soothing the spirit of anyone about and you. They dabbed your scalp with purified pomade to trap moisture, it's cool texture making your scalp tingle, and you couldn't help but shudder at its effects.

Who knew being pampered felt so good, even if the body you were in was a complete stranger to you a few weeks ago. That electric shock the headset had put you through had sent your consciousness out of your body, and somehow, in some way, by the will of a sick deity or something, you had ended up in another world. At least the VIP care you got was nice. Baths and showers every time you wanted, the best beautiful flowing gowns that puffed around your shoulders, the glistening pearls and jewels in drawers upon drawers of jewelry cases. Yeah, being a noblewoman was nice, it felt like playing Barbie in real life, and by some miracle, which you had learned was the magic of the items you used, you didn't tire of it.

The voices of the maids echoed in the vast chambers, the soft hums and even occasional singings giving a background noise to the opulent residence. They diligently polished the floors and dusted every nook and crony, the skirts of their uniform dresses tucked under their belts, their bare legs in full view, low-heeled shoes petter pattering about, their short ears hidden under their clean and purely white bonnets. Where humans used skin color for segregation, elves were ranked by their ear size, which about yours...they were...something. as long as the palm of your hands they were. The soft appendages were delicate and took extreme care to maintain, just like the ancient Chinese tradition of growing your nails long as a sign of nobility, highborn elves of every branch that were created by Mekt had longer and more expressive ears. The priests said Mekt adored pointed ears, which favored the nobles, but you knew it was all bullshit to secure power, elves and humans weren't much different in the grand scheme of things.

Your perfectly filed fingers ram through the soft fur of Trifine, the fluffy gal purring a storm, gently batting imaginary flies around her. The maids cooed as they pampered the feline as well, offering it snacks and brushing her long tail that moved about as if it had a mind of its own. You sighed softly, giving Adarana, or you, to be honest, another look. You had screamed your head off when you had woken up to realize where the hell you were. The damned headset had sent you to a very dangerous place and from the looks of it, you had no way out of it.  

Your eyes moved about to hide the tears of frustration, your cute button nose twitching a little in an attempt to scrunch up. Your chambers was something out of a commercial in size respectively, with a large marble-styled bathroom that ran on magic-infused boiled water, a toilette that had flowered patterned tiles that shimmered under the candlelight, a whole dedicated prayer room with everything needed there, especially with a statue of Mekt, which you covered with a cloth, given your trauma with the scene you had read about her and the villain. Two walk-in closets filled with every fashion item imaginable, an office that you got your lessons in and met your tutors at, and a boudoir which was reserved for close friends, to which you didn't have any, only your mother visited you there for tea, and you had counted, exactly three window seats and 12 windows of different shapes in total around the living quarters.

So you had truly ended up in that damned novel huh? It wasn't a dream, your countless attempts to wake up which some may had been too painful than others reminded you of that but how did you end up here in the world of "The silver-spooned saintness", you did not know, maybe it was another version of the "Truck-kun" messing with you or it was a punishment out of nowhere or the sheer hatred of the stupid author, you weren't sure. And the title, whatever the hell that translated title means, sure, silver spoon in Korean meant being born of wealth, but still...you now HATED the damned title.

Speaking of the saintess, you rolled your eyes so hard that the poor maids thought there was something wrong, to which you just waved your hand, ignoring their confused glances. The saintess was the protagonist, the oh-so-powerful, beautiful, all-knowing Yuviel Palewand, Adarana's sibling and now...your little sister. How?! Why?! Why she author? Why she?! Yuviel had the personality of a fluffy white bread and oh you'd be cursed, she was just aa white to the core. Sometimes you flinched at how translucent her skin was, the author's obsession with white skin, a tall skinny body, pink hair, and purple eyes made you want to find the author and shove some sense into them, not even Asians themselves were that "perfect", which was alright! Yuviel looked bad in the art style of her story, but in person, she seemed so sickly it was...disturbing.

Yuviel had the typical childcare story plot line, the daughter of a long lost lover sent to an orphanage found in the worst condition possible, doted upon by her father and siblings, it would be a really good plot for fluffy fillings on the pages, which it was. Palewand state was a very gorgeous one, with lush greenery and a mansion so massive it rivaled a palace, which it had to, Balthinal Palewand, your father, was one of the few viscounts in elven domain of the planet Leril after all. Your three younger brothers were just as typical as one could be given a story of as Yuviel's, things were perfect, but you were there, and as an imposter in the body of the young elf, you knew things weren't as simple.

"Your" father was a high elf of the branch of the moon elves, pale, tall with gray eyes, he literally could shimmer under the direct light, his excessive use of silk didn't help either. He had an arranged marriage with "your" mother, Eponia of Woella, a sun elf, to strengthen the bond of the states. She had a fair build, with a full body and lovely dark skin, and you, Ardana, had inherited most of her features but still shared the same pale silver eyes with your father. Your father had cheated on your mother and Yuviel was the fruit of it, and he had the audacity to not only bring her in but shower her with more love than he had shown Ardana, which had made your mother resentful.

Eponia was not a woman of pettiness, she was wise and a lady through and through but Mekt's enemies be damned, if one were to say something bad about you, she'd gauge their eyes out. That was why you liked Eponia more than others, she was genuine and loved Ardana fully. None of these details were mentioned in the novel, especially, the fact that YOU were ENGAGED, to the villain of the story, in an attempt from your father to save YUVIEL from the clutches of a bloodsucking beast, oh you nearly forgot, on top of being a misogynistic, pro classism, and an asshole that had favorites, he also was racist to the bone. He had thrown you under the bus to save his favorite. Obsessive fathers like him made you sick to the bone, especially knowing one of the reasons she was so liked by his was Yuviel's likeness to her late mother, which the older maids had said he was obsessed with as well...ew.

At least the sons of the family were rather normal, well as normal as spoiled nobles could be, none of them had an inch of a hard spine, aside from Irtar, who was a young teen in elven years by the time you had gotten there, if the story would proceed as it did in the novel, the talented elf would go through so much. Surprisingly Eponia seemed to like you more than she did her sons, Curufor, your eldest brother and the heir to the Palewand state, had told young Ardana it was because Eponia always wanted a daughter, that was why she had put up with Balthinal and gave birth to three sons only for the fourth babe to turn out as a female. Good thing you had Ardana's memories. That was how you had escaped the skeptical gaze of Mellion, the middle son, who seemed to stare right through your eyes and reach your soul, your mother always disliked how much that piercing gaze was reminiscent of Balthinal's, to add salt to the already festering wound of Eponia's resentment, none of her sons looked like her either, you could see why she was so attached to Abrana, in Leril no bride had the chance to take any maid or lady in waiting of her father's state to her new home. The Palewand family was well, at least "functional" to a degree, Abrana was always grateful that none of her siblings turned against their family as most elves did.

Racism was prevalent in Leril which was actually acceptable to any elf, not only on the green and lush planet of elves but also in the whole universe Abrana knew of. The elves from different planets shared the universal hatred of any races other than their own, thank Mekt they are not racist to their own- oh right...the ear size thing...Mekt had some explaining to do, but nah, according to the scripture of Mekt's church, she was the bride to Kytvan, the lord of all, and not many dared to question her ways, aside from the dark ones, who themselves had their own can of worms that was spilled everywhere. But again, given how humans and orcs acted, you didn't think other deities were good enough to criticize Mekt. At least she had managed her creation better than others. Other planets were a constant mess.

Especially on Sevonad's dead soil, where Necropolis, the city of sin and decay, had festered like a plague, oozing puss and sickness. You had once seen the map of the dark planet and its moons and by Mekt! Why half of Senovad's surface was covered in a hulking hive city?! Necropolis was like a living behemoth of a parasite of metal and wires, withering with energy and countless towers that pierced the atmosphere of the planet, it had slithered into it's never dying core and rooted at the shadowed side of the planet that was stuck in its orbit and didn't turn its northern side towards the sunlight, which had given the nocturnal side of Sevonad the perfect condition for the creatures of the night to thrive in, the other side was under constant sunlight, and was mostly a never-ending sahara, deprived of any shade, literal demons roaming it's grounds. What were the dark ones thinking when they created this massive rock in space?

The readers sort of liked the worldbuilding of the story, a mixture of fantasy races in a universe of gothic horror with futuristic technology and magic, but the author hadn't had given much of the details, not to the clarity you had seen. There were three habitable planets in the Zorak sector, aside from the planet of humans, which in itself was like a fantasy version of Earth, named Sabra, they had the same state of tech as the modern days, fused with magic and conflict, hardly reaching for the stars since vampires sabotaged their endeavors in an attempt to keep them trapped for their own harvesting, though victims of vampires colonization, even the orcs didn't like to touch them, why? Given that you yourself were human in spirit, you knew why.

There was Sevonad, the dark planet, Sabra, Leril, and the fourth and the most barbaric one, Adigog, a planet covered in the bile-like greenery that seemed sickly from the outside, home to orcs and other fantasy races that were too barbaric for the other planets, good thing they hadn't developed technology to the point of space travel, which you didn't think they were capable of, given the constant tribal wars they went through. Diegord, their god, was just as repulsive in nature in mythology and scripture as his creations were, always harassing Mekt. It was a solid world-building, and further from the planet sectors of Zorak were other sectors, which were not mentioned in the book or in the maps you had seen, it seemed they didn't want to interact with Zorakians, and the ships coming in and out of the three planets of the sector didn't venture out of its borders either.

Life in Palewand state wasn't that bad, Eponia watched over you, doted on you, babied you even...yeah sure...Life in Palewand state wasn't that bad, well aside from the constant stress of where the hell the story was going!

The silver-spooned saintess's story was of a struggling elf maiden that had taken sanctuary in the capital of Leril's monastery after a grueling war between vampires and elves, the typical saintess arch, and that included a very toxic elf prince, and the whole story was about them dealing with the villain of the story. Silvain Agarand and his pursuit of avenging the Palewand family by any means. 

Leril had been long under the colonization of the vampires coming from Sevonad as well, vampires had reached their claws to every single planet in search of new resources, greedy and cruel, they had taken the Eastern hemisphere of the planet for themselves and with use of their superior technology and Mekt's absence, since the priests said she had gone to a millennia rest after fighting off Diegord in the heavens. They had occupied the land and had extended their influence and power on the dark elves of the east, making the Drows their minions and thralls. For centuries it was total chaos on the eastern side, with the frontiers of the states close to the east in constant war with the vampires, but in the end, the elves, given the absence of their deity and patron to fund their mana, gave in, and relented to their terms, aside from letting the vampires suck up the resources of the planet, every century, from a chosen state, by random, a young elf would marry into the realm of the vampires on Leril and your family was chosen this time. At first, Yuviel was put up as an option given her perfect nature, which was the author's way of adding coal to the fire of fangirling for her, oh perfect Yuviel! So perfect that she was chosen to be the oh-so-pure sacrificial bride...yeah, you wanted to rip your hair out in frustration. Your father had changed the candidate to you, earning your and Eponia's scorn. And who was your darling betrothed? Yes, it was HIM!

According to the story, the villain Silvain Agarand, the Duke to the Agarand state, which was a large continent on the northern part of the occupied lands, was a sadistic mad vampire that sought nothing but the demise of Yuviel Palewand and her family, and he does to an extent, killing everyone but her and her youngest brother Irtar Palewand, who somehow with the help of the male lead and Mekt's blessing would get rid of the villain. You hadn't read enough to know what was going to happen, the poor grammar and also the all-over-the-place plotline of the story had frustrated you, but you still remembered one thing.

Arbana had died in the original plotline. Yes, because she was married off to that sadistic Agarand and Mekt knew what he had done to her, and now that your father had pushed the engagement onto you instead of Yuviel, you were going insane from the stress, so much so that even Eponia noticed and tried to argue with your father, day and night to make him see the absurdity of it all. He had finally relented and agreed to annul the engagement if the Agarands were not to respect the elven tradition of meeting the bride in person before choosing her. Which was impossible, given the fact that no vampire could reach Palewand state without being weakened to the stage of a mere thrall because of the pulsating veins of Mekt's mana in the land.

You huffed in frustration as you paced around your room, your pet cat looking at you in confusion as you frantically mumbled "Why me? Why me? Why me?!" The reality was setting in and it was setting in HARD! Not even those damned good-smelling tea or delicious snacks could calm you down, why on Leril's soil you had to be the "tribute"?! The night's dinner no matter how many times your mother had insisted was a good meal had made you nauseated with its strange aroma, and it didn't help your anxiety at all. The soothing tea that your mother had sent to your chambers was sitting in the corner, long forgotten and had turned cold half an hour ago.

You were going to kiss little Trifine in your arms as she let out a soft 'mrrp' of concern, before you heard a soft "squeak" coming from the window, you furrowed your brows and looked down at Trifine, the purring cat tilting her head as well, as if sensing something wasn't right. Trifine didn't make such noises, sure she had made some weird noises here and there like soft meows that sounded like she was singing but not a squeak-"Squeak"

You turned around, searching for where the noise was coming from only to find a small FLUFFY batling on the window's railings, any thoughts of your misery were thrown out of your mind as you met its wide crimson eyes "Squeak" It made another noise as it realized you had noticed it, perking up, Oh Mekt!...why was it so cute?! You put Trifine down, the feline looking up quizzically, not understanding why she was put down, as you approached the window slowly to not scare the batling, but the fluffball seemed unfazed, sitting on its small stubby legs.

"Hello" you greeted it with a high-pitched voice out of your excitement, and the batling just puffed its fluffy chest and squeaked again, as if greeting you back. Its large flap-like ears perked up, the flat nose twitching a little. You clawed at your chest "Ack!" It was so unexpected, you hadn't seen any bats like it before and surely there was not a place for them in the state's grounds. You tilted your head closer, refusing to give in to the urge of petting the creature. You couldn't help but coo as it rubbed it's head with it's left wing, fluttering it's wings before looking up once more, as if it was preening for your attention.

The batling crawled closer, it's leathery wings shuddering a little, maybe because of the unfamiliar situation it was in? It seemed curious and eager, which was strange, even for elves animals were still apprehensive of them. You tried to reach out to pet the fluffy white creature when another voice startled both of you, another white batling came screeching as it attacked the first one, you gasped and tried to do something but you realized the attack wasn't harmful, it was as if the second bat was scolding the first one by slapping it with its wings over and over. Before you could do something the second batling literally threw the first one off of the railings and then flew off, leaving you flagbastered and little Trifine confused as hell, the poor thing was sitting there looking up, a look of "What just happened?!" On her face. Well, that was something.

You were puzzled, shaking your head to clear your mind, You turned around to pick up Trifine once more before the first batling poked it's head in again "Squeak!" You giggled at it's persistence but- "You look even more lovely in person-" "EEK!" You screamed in shock hearing a very deep masculine voice coming from the batling, and it was so loud it startled the creature and it fell once more as it let out a loud scream with a voice that wasn't befitting of the manly voice "Ahh!". After you had calmed down, you looked down the window to see if what you had seen was real or not but down on the white rose bushes below the window there was nothing, maybe the meal had messed up with your mind? Your mother had said it was a special herb inside, yeah, maybe it was the game of the mind, but why did poor Trifine keep frantically meowing around you? Maybe she was startled by your scream as well, how strange...

And even more strange was- "The engagement will proceed as planned" Yes, the engagement wasn't annulled as much as your mother had wanted it to. Why? You didn't know "But why?" You spoke, making others look your way "I haven't seen the heir of the Agarand state and he hasn't seen me! It's...it's..." You trailed off to find the right words "It's ridiculous!" Your mother shouted, coming to your aid, standing up from her seat, the plates on the breakfast table moving at her sudden movement, Eponia rarely lost her temper like this, but it was her baby she was defending. "It has been decided woman-" your father sighed "I do not care! They haven't followed the tradition-" "They have actually, sit down and listen" Balthinal sighed, rubbing his temper, why breakfast needed to be complicated like this?

"He has seen our daughter" he started, everyone's head snapped in your direction to which you gave them a confused look back "I haven't-" "It seems the heir and his chaperone had entered the Palewand state last night in disguise of-" your mind started to reel as your father explained, trying to remember the past few nights, wait-so the batling-NO WAY! That explained the crimson eyes and the deep voice! Those filthy vampires could shapeshift! "It's unacceptable! I was in my sleeping gown and he-he has breached my privacy and dignity!" You tried to argue, but your father was busy cutting down the bread in front of him "It is decided, and they will send a company with offerings before taking Ardana for the engagement ceremony at the border" The finality in his tone made you stop, fuming silently, as a daughter you couldn't argue with your father further, and your mother didn't seem any better, and the 'pure' Yuviel was being handfed by Mellion once again, oblivious to everything.

It took only less than a week for the ceremonial party to reach

Palewand state, that you refused to leave your room, but curiosity got the better of you after the arrival of the company was announced. You and Trifine watched from the window of your chambers, your eyes widened at the sheer amount of gifts and carriages they had sent. You held up Trifine who seemed curious as well, wanting her to be the judge of it all just as you were. "Meow," She said "Yeah...that's a lot of carriages" you agreed with Trifine, looking down at the five full carriages colored black with the symbol of the three-headed hydra plastered on their doors in a glistening purple color. Your doom seemed to approach you in extravagant robes.

"Are they courting the daughter of a king or something?" Your father huffed as you and your mother watched the vampire vassals wearing dark Bautas to hide their faces from the glaring sun and bring in the many caskets of gifts. Your mother slapped his arm with her fan, making him give back a glare "Your daughter doesn't have anything less than a princess" Eponia huffed, fanning herself. You wished you hadn't come down to the entrance hall to see the gifts pouring in, but Trifine was restless and so were you plus your mother had insisted, she spoke of the vassals' need to see you up close to know your worth or something, whatever it was, you didn't want to touch even a speck of dust coming down the gifts let alone use them, but soon they'd be part of the dowery you'd be taking with you.

The caskets and chests were opened, filled to the brim with dresses up to date in fashion in silk and other materials, pelts of legendary animals, jewelry of any kind, shoes of different heights, books of different subjects, large vials of glistening perfumes, even a golden harp. Alright...maybe they were doing too much- "Five hundred thousand gold?!" Your father spat in disbelief as the vassals silently opened the gold chest, revealing the golden bars branded by the symbol of Palewand state, basically a payment to the father of the bride for giving an "asset" away, how convenient. You kept petting Trifine, showing disinterest.

"Darling" Your mother called for you gaining your attention as she gestured to a vassal approaching with a dark red velvet cushion in his hands, a glistening golden ring upon it "This is your naming ring my dear" She spoke softly, holding your right hand, gently caressing the back of it with her thumb, if you were going to leave, she'd try to make it somehow tolerable for you in any way she could. "Naming ring?" You asked and she nodded, your gaze on the vassal's hand, the realization that every vampire of importance had numerous rings on them setting in. "By accepting the naming ring you accept the engagement, at the ceremony of engagement you will be given another ring, and then another at your wedding, three rings, symbolizing the three...dark ones... and the three hydras of the house Agarand" Your mother fanned herself even faster, trying to keep herself calm, it was like giving up her precious little girl to the slaughterhouse, but she couldn't say no.

The vassal knelt as he offered up the pillow, his face and emotions hidden by the mask, which any vampire you had ever seen wore to protect themselves from burns. You hesitantly reached out for the ring and picked it up  looking at the glistening viper coiling around it "Who gives their betrothed a viper ring?" You scrunched up your nose in disgust, your mother chiding you in a murmur "Darling!" You knew your comment was rude but you had to let out your anger in some way. The horned viper was one of the three hydras of the house Agarand, but alas...it was rather heavy, and the ruby gems worked in its eyes glistened, reminding you of the eyes of the batling, oh that weasel Silvain-

You lowered your head and put it on your mother's shoulder for support as your father put the ring on your trembling hand, finalizing the betrothal process. "His lord and ladyship Agarand will be hosting the ceremony at the border by the Kalmas lake by the third full moon" the vassal spoke, bowing before backing away. Here it went, why couldn't you change the story of your doom like other characters in different stories you had read? Or it was just a hoax the author put in? Your will didn't matter, and the ring on your finger seemed very heavy, your blood freezing in your veins feeling it's magical grip around your heart.

The parting ceremony held by your parents a week later from the gifting was nothing short of a nightmare, everyone gave you either pitiful or disgusted glances, and women behind their fans whispered to themselves as you walked past them, their eyes narrowed in on your every action and Yuviel and your siblings weren't anywhere to be seen, probably coddling Yuviel or something, you didn't want to see them anyway. You felt like a sacrificial lamb paraded around, your mother refused to attend out of spite of your father, who tried to smile and failed miserably at every given minute, because he knew he was the one to blame, and the nobility for once were siding with his wife instead of him, because he was taking his child away to hand her to bloodsucking wolves.

You had wept the night before your parting, the company sent by your new family would leave before the break of day since the exchange spot was a day away, and vampires could not stand in direct sunlight. Your mother had wept her eyeliner off the whole time, Yuviel as well, though you didn't show any emotions, other than a soft hiccup when Trifine was taken from you, it was direct orders, no pets, servants, or belongings of the bride would be transferred with her, upon the engagement ceremony, which the bride had to attend alone, she'd be reborn as a lady of the night. Poor Trifine kept meowing as she looked at you, and you swore you could see her cry, your maids wept too, it was nothing like a happy parting, but you didn't blame them either.

Your mother kissed your face over and over, pulling the hood of your cape down to cover your face "Make sure to eat well alright my little mouse?" She caressed your face, not wanting to tear up again at your trembling lips. "Woman-" "Just shut up and let me say goodbye to my daughter!" Eponia snapped at her husband before she guided you into the carriage, putting a blanket on your lap as she fluffed it up for you, trying to hold back her tears "If anything happens..." She trailed off, there was no turning back now was it? She reached out and put a small vial in your hands "Dying with dignity is worth more" She whispered, and the realization dawned on you.

The carriage's door closed and enclosed you in it's darkness, leaving you alone to digest the reality that Eponia had given you the poison to kill yourself with, but the irony was, you didn't seem to dislike the idea either, after all, the war was away for less than a year, and your sealed fate wasn't that better either, maybe you'd do it to spite the dark ones and the Agarands.

In the carriage you were on your own, refusing to touch any of the gifts put there, glaring at the hidden portrait of your to be fiancé inside a velvet-covered box, you hadn't seen him yet, but his audacity and rudeness as well as his apparent character from the novel made you want to set the portrait on fire. Your head rested on the soft inner padding of the seat, rocking softly as you listened to the hooves of the mechanical horses touching the road, your family had sent nothing but the gifts the Agarands had sent for you with you, no dowery to your name, a literal nobody entering the maws of death.

You had fallen asleep from exhaustion and mental fatigue, the company reached the massive tents set beside the lake that shimmered under the moonlight before you could know it. You woke up by the knock on the door of your carriage and your heart started beating faster and faster with each knock after you had jolted out of your sleep, your breath quickening, what if he were to set you on fire here and there?! You didn't want to turn into snuff of a sick and twisted man!

The door of the carriage opened on its own letting the chilling breeze of the twilight time in, your nose burning from the cold. You finally managed to gather up your courage and leaned forward to see you were at the other side, meeting a full group of maids and ladies in waiting in dark purple clothing did courtesy upon seeing you "Your ladyship" one of them spoke with eloquence, gesturing with her gloved hand towards the tent behind them as her fingers fluttered. "Come forth" She beckoned, holding her other hand out for you. Taking her hand you left the carriage, her pink-colored eyes downcast in respect as she guided you toward the tent.

You entered the clothed walls of the tent, shuddering at the coldness of the atmosphere, the ladies in waiting gave you demure polite smiles ss the maids unfastened your clothing to have them removed. Your cape left you, their hands diligently unfastening the buttons of your dress. Too nervous to protest them practically undressing you in front of the eyes of each other you relented, listening to them whispering soft measurements and discussing the needed jewelry and powders, not looking up from their tasks. None of the Agarands had attended you yet, and it felt rather refreshing, you didn't want to meet any of those silverheads.

The cold hands of the dampier maids were covered with gloves, their silence rather comfortable, but you still missed your own girls, which you were sure missed you as well. The golden dress you wore was changed with the latest gown coming right from Sevonad, the ladies in waiting made sure to mention that, the purple gown sat right under the airy chemise, that your corset was tied up, apparently the Agarand's family color was purple, which showed their closeness to royalty. White stockings with soft garters were put on, the underwear soft as cotton on you.

A lady in waiting of yours offered her hand for you to take after your hat was fitted on your head and a fresh coating of powder was put on your head and shoulders "This way your ladyship" She guided you out of the tent, letting you step on the occupied soil, belonging to the frontlines that decades ago were covered in the bodies of both races, their deaths still heavy on the atmosphere. The lady guided you towards the largest tent, the guards, their faces hidden behind their helms saluting as you walked past them, your lace shoes dipping onto the fresh doed grass, your gait slightly limping at the heavy skirt of your new dress.

Upon your arrival at the main tent, a soft violin tone started playing, your head didn't move to find the one playing, it seemed like a piece of music to your funeral. You looked up to see the tent having a makeshift alter made of wood in the shape of the dark ones' church you had seen in pictures of your studies of Senovad, with a curtain cutting it's space in two, basically hiding the two betrothed from each other until the end of the ceremonial process. A subtle hint of incense was in the air and it's sweet hints could be felt on your tongue, maybe if you lived long enough you could ask the name of it from the maids. Your marvel at the scent in the air was cut short as your eyes landed on something or rather someone particular.

You gulped down the lump in your throat that seemed to gnaw at your windpipe, your breath shuddering at the hulking figure's back facing you, his board shoulders adorned with epaulettes glistening with a dark silver color, his cape reaching down onto the floor. Why was he so...HUGE?! How on Sevonad's dark soil they fed him? Or better to ask WHAT they fed him because from the width he seemed he could eat two men whole and still have some place left in his stomach for seconds. Now the scenes you had read about him were ringing more and more horrific, your legs shaking under the skirt of the gown. He didn't move his head, the pony-tailed silver hair of his perfectly still, but the subtle twitch of his pointed ear gave you the signal that he had realized you were there.

"My child" a smooth male voice called you out of your shock, and your attention snapped to the other tall figure behind the alter that had appeared out of the shadows, his face chiseled with the shade of the light of the torches around you set on his deathly pale skin. His crimson irises were deep set in hunter-shaped eyes, his arched brows tilted downwards, and his silver hair was combed back, pomade glistening on his tresses as a lovelock fell from the lace collar of his clothing. He seemed like a marble statue that had come to life by the will of the dark ones, wearing a dark doublet that was adorned with golden stripes, the deep cuffs of his clothes set in place with buttons that seemed made out of pearls, the hose upon his stockings weaved with precision. The emblem of the purple-colored hydra on his chest.

Within a blink of an eye, the tall silvered-haired vampire loomed over you, using his super-powered speed. Given the emblem and the way he had called you, he'd be none other than Eckhart Agarand himself, the Duke of the northern fronts, and the lord and master of the Amethyst Peak. Your soon-to-be father-in-law leaned forward to take your hand from the lady in waiting in his, the red gloves on his person thick to the touch. The large palm of the ancient being dwarfed yours, your hand looking like a child's in his, oh right, you had forgotten royal and pure blood vampires were twice the size of a normal one...nice. He petted your hand with his other hand, gently, as if to soothe you, a fatherly smile upon his glistening lips, you had heard vampire men used balms for their skin because of lack of moisture coming from their bodies, but seeing it up close was something else, from the close distance you could take the hints of roses of it.

"I apologize for this meager ceremony my dear" he started, the smooth voice rolling out of his bright white teeth like notes of a flute "But my beloved had insisted upon meeting you sooner and could not wait to prepare a better ceremony, she has promised for a grand wedding in return" he petted your hand once more, but oh your eyes was set on those two sharp fangs on his person, from that angle you were sure you were just like a pray to him. Thank Mekt the Agarands were one of the view nobles that adhered to the lifestyle of using artificial blood, which in the eyes of their kin made them seem like radicals that had lost their minds.

"Come" the duke guided you to the free spot at the left side of the curtain, and you tried your best to not look at the way your soon-to-he fiance was, holding your gaze forward. "It must be very cold, the dews are turning to crystals" he muttered to himself, waving his free hand to send a servant to fetch you a coat after the end of the ceremony, the telepathic order of his followed without question. The senior Agarand guided your hand to a small iron bowl set upon the alter, putting it there with your hand's palm up, he cleared his throat, and the hand of your betrothed reached out as well, your stomach dropping at the large clawed digits on his long-fingered hand, the limb already covered with different shapes of rings, just like his father's "Ah" the duke chuckled softly, taking your reaction, if wide eyes and your hand shaking as enthusiasm WHICH WAS NOT! Tell your son to not touch me! Ever! You wanted to yell at him.

As he started reciting prayers to the dark ones he picked up a small blade, holding it onto the flame of the candles upon the alter, it seemed the duke had sensed your apprehensive look and he gently spoke "Do not worry my child, it'll only cut a shallow wound" he tried to reassure you, which didn't help at all, but you were to frozen by the cold and the weight of your dress to move. The blade moved on your skin, the painless cut opening, your blood dripping off of your hand into the bowl into soft drops, the Duke cut his son's hand as well, though after a few small droplets his wound closed off on its own, his blood mixing with yours, after a few moments and a handful of drops the duke reached out, rubbing a healing balm on your skin to make the wound close, wiping the access blood away "You did well" he praised, your heart thudding a little at the gentle praise. Damn him and his well-shaved goatee.

After a few seconds, the duke picked up the bowl and poured the mixed blood into two different silver lines cups adorned with symbols of darkness. "Hear me thee dark ones, for tonight I hath gathered the blood of my offspring and a child of Mekt, bless their union with thine hands, tie their souls, for may they never part" he offered the cup on your side to you, his son reaching out for his. The duke seemed oddly attentive for some reason. "I know it might seem rather...unsanitary, but it is an ancient ritual, drink my child, it is for the sake of the engagement."

You looked at the liquid, your lips not wanting to part as you circled the blood inside it. You parted your lips to protest but suddenly a raven made a loud crow, startling you into dropping the cup and it fell upon the altar, coloring it red the lady in waiting gasped "Bad omen!" But she was silenced by the sharp glare of the duke. "Mayhaps the dark ones have willed the blood to be offered to them" he tried to lighten the mood. "We can redo the ceremony at the Peak if you'd want to my child." You just stared at the spot made on the white altar, the redness of it making your stomach churn.

"She can have as much as she likes" the same deep voice you had heard from that batling on that night spoke, and the curtain moved to reveal your now fiance "I can cut myself all over if she wants me to", and your eyes set upon his, the spitting image of his father, with a smile that seemed sweet for a man of his stature. Silvain Agarand...the villain, the sick man himself. But why was he looking at you like a bashful boy?

.

Waking up to the soft hum of engines, you tried to roll around in the small space of the medical sarcophagus, but you were restrained down by its confines, the sensors inside beeping in alarm. Thinking you had once again slept in you tried to reach out for your alarm "I'll get up" you mumbled sleepily to your non-existent phone, your voice muffled by the air mask on your face, trying to turn it off as you heard the alarms of the metallic casket encasing you in its padded interior, your hands clawing at the soft cushions that had held your wounded form as it had healed you for days on end.

You soon were jolted out of your sedated rest by the door of the sarcophagus nearly being ripped open "Darling! Oh, my sweetling!" Your eyes snapped open hearing the frantic sound of Silvain, your ears perking up and aching since you hadn't used them for days. Silvian was panting loudly, his teeth bare as his monstrous side fought to come out to posses it's mate his eyes wide, bloodshot red with his tears of blood. He quickly reached out for your hands, gripping them firmly but not harshly, his chapped lips kissing your fingers over and over as he thanked the dark ones for their blessings. He looked a mess, his stubble had grown and brunt against your palms as he grazed his face to them, wanting to feel your warmth on his ice-cold flesh.

"Oh my beloved" he sobbed, your dazed mind not nearly registering that you had been nearly regenerated whole by the cloning technology of the ship's medical wing, the physician and your appointed nurse carefully administrating tests on you, trying to see if you were fully conscious or not. "Bless be the dark ones, she's healed fully!" Doctor Halden whispered to himself as he checked for your cognitive presence, the brain waves without any problems. Silvain let out a gasp of relief as he resumed kissing your fingers, his breath shaking "Blessed be Holodor, lady of blood, blessed be Semias lord of flesh, blessed be the mother to the soul, Deidron, thank thee for thy kindness, I shall bathe thine alters in the blood of thine fallen enemies for decades to come" he kept mumbling prayers, his eyes closed.

Valeria was by your side within seconds, after she was notified of your waking. The vampiress tearing up at the sight of you in that condition, under the weight of many wires and tubes, holding her handkerchief close to her face to wipe the blood made tears staining her plain cheeks as she approached, her rose-colored dress fluttering. "Oh my sweet child, are you in pain?" She asked softly, so distressed you could swear she'd faint within seconds if you were to whimper. Eckhart joined his wife, holding her shoulders, and leaned towards the sarcophagus, his brows knitted in worry "You are nearly healed my child, there is no doubt you will be healthy as ever in the coming days" he reassured you, the paternal warmth in his voice evident as he swallowed down his distress, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

"I-I am just tired" you finally spoke, surprised at how sluggish your movements were, as if you were using them for the first time, which given your newly grown flesh it wasn't that far from the truth. You inhaled to speak once more, to reassure the worried family but Silvain gently put his finger on your lips to silence you "Shhhh, rest, I am here" he whispered, kissing the back of your hands in small pecks, his eyes closing as his nostrils flared, his will holding the dam of his tears from breaking once more, you were alive, and the medical sarcophagus had healed you to the point of health without you being in too much pain.

It took two weeks in the medical wing of the ship for you to recover, Silvain and his family's physicians guiding you through the physical therapy steps, the heir of the Agarand state holding you in place with his hands holding your waist tightly, his hands guiding you through every obstacle, he was there when you walked again, he was there when you spoke once more, he was there when you wrote your first word once again, he was there, and he cared, with all his being. Also, he ruined lots of tissues because your man kept crying every day like a cloud in the spring.

You were glad the war was over, the Agarands had frantically gathered their belongings before the elven army had reached their state, and your father had seized the moment to get rid of your in-laws so he could marry you off to someone more profitable. The original Abrana had chosen that fate and ended up dead, but you had refused and well, you were at least alive.

After your recovery you could spend time the way you enjoyed it, roaming the insides of the spaceship, the castle like structure of it was filled with luxuries, branded with the head of the three hydras, specifically commissioned by the dark emperor for the Agarand family after the war broke on Leril, Eckhart was the dark emperor's second removed grandchild and he adored the Duke. The six months stay in the ship as it traveled to Sevonad from Leril meaning you'd have enough time to see what kind of the place this marvel of technology and gothic design was. You had heard the dark emperor rarely gifted his relatives such things. It was massive, with wings of different uses, the buttresses magnificent magical gardens that withstood the darkness of vampires being, literal ballrooms, dining halls, music rooms, and a gallery. The cargo was full of decades worth of artificial blood and frozen foods, ready to use in the hands of the staff.

In your endeavors you found the duke and a few dampiers in front of the chambers that were supposed to be Silvain's and yours after your subsequent departure from the medical wing, the small crowd discussing things in hushed whispers, Eckhart tried to brush off the situation, gently ushering you to spend time with his wife and the twin boys in the eastern wing, but you insisted and he finally shared that toxic gasses had leaked in the quarters for a while, and Silvain was lucky that he had spent his time on your bedside, away from it all. Oh...OH?!

Oh...you had heard the name of that gas before in Irtar's chemistry books...it was harmless to humans, but it seemed it caused severe brain damage to vampires or other races, humans used it for chemical warfare against other races before being occupied by the vampires, and given how it had been rumored that the elves had occupied the shipyard for a few weeks before giving up the station to the cavalry sent by the dark emperor himself, could it be that they had laced the air supply of the ship? Vampires didn't need to breathe but they had supplied air vents for their staff which were mostly thralls and dampiers, some even had human victims as pets and companions and they needed air, some said the gas affected the mana and corrupted it, which directly imbalanced the chemicals of the body and mind, but given that it had leaked through Silvain and your chambers things were piecing together.

In the original story, from what you have gathered and matched with your own memories you wouldn't even be alive to reside there since the feral Silvain would drain you of your blood and after he had come to his senses he'd cremate your body and his parents in his guilt to keep your memories with him, then the lonely new master to the Amethyst Peak was definitely poisoned to his fangs, given his habit of wallowing in his grief and sadness when he was overwhelmed with guilt, and subsequently, the small doses of the nerve-wracking gas would slowly lead him to lose his mind. And in his twisted delirium Silvain had turned your ashes into a snuff to consume you piece by piece, in a sadly macabre way of holding you close, the revenge he had of your family was to see them pay for their neglect of your life and decision...oh poor Silvie.

Now everything was clicking into place! The dukedom's couple living had changed the whole plot and storyline! With his parents alive, he had guidance to help him with his emotions, and certainly, you had lived, even if the injury you had sustained by the hands of your father was nearly as fatal as what Silvain would give you if you hadn't had refused Balthinal's orders and had killed Valeria and Eckhart. The twin boys were too young to help their brother anyway.

But Mekt knew, from the snickers of the dark ones echoing through the heavens, that your new weaved fate, wasn't going to be as bright as you had hoped for.

.

"Hnngh!" You tried to suck in your breath as the maids behind you pulled on your corset to tighten up your waist, the lace pulling being such a difficult task that two maids tried to pull the strings, making the air push out of your lungs even more "I can't breath" you managed to say nearly choked from the pressure of the tightly weaved fabric against your middle, the chemise beneath it pressing tight to your flesh, it wasn't your fault you didn't have an hourglass figure! You whined uncontrollably, your ears drooping in a show of distress, which was answered with apologetic glances of the dampier maids, whispering with embarrassed smiles muttering how they only followed orders, oh it was so awkward, you wished your own maids could be here to take care of things, you could at least joke with them about the situation.

Speaking of a tense situation... you tried to ignore the small shivering ball of fur on the nightstand before you, who had shamefully buried his head under one of the powder puffs there, his small body practically buzzing from how fast he was shivering. The maids giggled to themselves as they walked about with different items in their hands, finding the situation so endearing. You had come to realize that your mental image of the dark vampire that would be the monster of your life was all made up by your mind, because in reality, the tough dangerous looking vampire villain you had made up in your mind and had read about, was nothing short of a shy nervous wreck of a man that in elven years was actually even younger than you. Oh and he had a very bad habit, he'd shapeshift upon being overwhelmed. And after thinking he had seen his bride in her wedding dress the poor lad had turned into a batling and was hiding behind the large powder puff, refusing to get out even if his butlers were looking for him to get him ready for the ceremony, thinking it'd be of bad luck for your upcoming marriage, Silvain had walked in, bringing you a box of macaroons before he had shapeshifted into a batling. You knew he had chosen that form to avoid being scolded by you or his mother, knowing he could use the cuteness of his form against you two as well. But still, the power of a mother was more.

He peaked out of the powder puff upon hearing his mother calling for him, the vampiress giving him a scolding look before practically throwing him outside the bridal chambers like a ball so he could get ready. Valeria Agarand she was, a lady and nothing short of her husband, both in height and status, with sharp, high-boned cheeks, thin lips, and fox-like eyes, her gaze sparkling with wit and wisdom. You had come to know her as a cunning vampiress who knew how to manipulate people, he had your fiancé and her husband in the palm of her hand, which could be seen as toxic, but alas, nothing in your life was short of literally venomous anyway.

Duchess Valeria smiled softly as she looked at you up and down as the maids put the first layer of your dress on, the gown sitting on top of the inner cotton skirt, the white fabric soon covered with another layer, the weight of the heavy lilac colored wedding dress you could hardly breath "Oof" you whined once more, earning Valeria's chuckle as she got the long array of jewelry you'd be putting on for the wedding "Bear with it my sweet child, I remember I nearly passed out upon my own wedding" She turned to you, the pins in her raven hair glistening under the lights.

"Oh how I wish my daughters were here to see the beauty of their new family member, but it'd take months for them to get here" She sighed, circling about to check if every item was up to her standards, oh right, a control freak, you had nearly forgotten that. Just great, a too friendly father-in-law and a mother-in-law that seemed like a fox in the form of a lady, this way their son was the least of your concerns at the moment.

The Agarands were a family of seven, two sets of twins, and Silvian was born out of the union of the duchess and the duke, and your fiancé was the eldest son of the family, Madge, and Benedicta, his twin sisters were older than him, already married to influential families back on Sevonad, you had heard Benedicta was married to the legendary general Rambrecht Werder, the conqueror of humans, Madge's husband was still a mystery to you, but he seemed even more important than Werder. Younger than Silvain were young twins Bernolt and Gerhart, who had just learned how to write and were busy wreaking havoc somewhere, always under heavy supervision of their army of nannies.

Your in-laws seemed to be busy in the bedroom, which was a very rare notion because one, vampires could rarely get pregnant, and five children already meant they were really busy with each other, something that others noted and teased the duke and his mate about often, earning their chuckles that sounded like money flying in the air, and two, vampires were rarely known for love between couples, but it seemed the Agarand's couple were passionate and their children had inherited it. Silvain was like a schoolboy in love.

The wedding ceremony surprisingly was a private one, in front of the immediate family members that could catch up, and a priest of the dark ones' monastery. It was set in the prayer room of the large castle you had moved into, fast and efficient, just as Valeria had insisted it to be, she knew the traditional wedding dress that was passed down through generations was taking a heavy toll on you, and right after silvain had put a kiss on your cheek the maids were taking you away to have you changed into a more airy chemise like dress, which Valeria was happy to see you in, calling it a fitting dress for a nymph such as you, which has made you blush. The rest of the night was spent on eating cake and getting to know everyone.

Life in the Amethyst Peak was strangely pleasant, especially after the second batling incident, you had realized Silvain was much more different than he was in the stories, your man was as heavy as a tank and just as large but he'd turn into a batling out of nervousness if he was in your presence, not that your love for cute things changed anything for the better. He'd either get squished in your hands as you held him, or end up covered in your lipstick as you kissed him, he had taken the role of Trifine for you, and you had seemed to adopt his batling persona as your pet and he had taken the habit of turning to the bat form of his when he saw you angry. Unlike many ironical protagonists of the novels you had read, you could see the signs, and hopefully, seeing how the Agarands were in private, you'd find a way to stop your fate from happening.

The peak had grounds covered in darkness fused fauna, which sounded scary only to the name because the flowers that only bloomed in the moonlight were as gorgeous as one can be, the ponds were covered in small mermaid-like nymphs that would sing and chirp, their eyes wide and unblinking. The castle was not even a dark shade of pink, but people called it so because of the marvelous Amethyst statue of a small snake in the middle of the garden that was a gift directly from the dark emperor himself, you shuddered every time you saw the serpent, as if the first vampire could see you through its eyes.

The family always considered your needs when planning their own events, they had hired a full chef team to cater to your palate, and made sure to have family dinner times from time to time, who knew drinking blood from different fancy glasses that warped and coiled was just as fun as eating a pudding that melted on your tongue? Silvain seemed to like it a little too much, his mother would always glare at his habit of suckling the blood out instead of holding the glass upside down. It was not manly she said, which the younger vampire would give sheepish glances at his parent in response, but he still kept doing it.

They made sure your chambers and the library you frequented were always warm, and Mekt knew how many coats and jackets Valeria had stuffed into your wardrobes because she had made sure you had a coat for every and any occasion. One time she had put on so many on you that you had to waddle about inside the cold Peak. They even let your mother visit, well at least her hologram would visit you through the portable antenna they had sent her, Life seemed to be smooth sailing, but no...Mekt had other plans for you.

The war between the elves and the vampires was inevitable, and so was your decision.

You'd soon come to realize that you had to choose, and this choice would change everything.

.

"You would like to see the new garden darling" Valeria spoke with a soft smile as she prepared the ribbon that was going to be on your hair, the cold hands of the dampier maids combing through your strands as they prepared them to be braided once more after a rigorous washing session with the finest oils Sevonad could offer. They had tried their best to treat your special hair type. 

"It is of fashion these days, I've seen the grand duchesses wear ribbons to royal balls" She spoke softly as she showed you three different rolls of red colored ribbon in varying width "What do you think? Threaded out of the finest we could find" Her crimson gaze was gentle and motherly, as if trying to soothe a stressed child, which you were, and fussy, so to speak.

You had not left your quarters after the Agarands had entrusted you with their firstborn daughter Madge, who was now a consort to a Grand Duke, connected right to the imperial family. Madge swirled the blood in her glass, looking at it's narrow flute, her gaze upon the liquid as it swirled around, as cunning as she was just like her mother, she could not continue to pretend that things were normal, they in fact, were not.

Silvain had nearly gone feral after the incident that had happened back on your home planet, and now back in the birthplace of the first vampires, Sevonad, it had taken so long for him to calm his senses down, long after you had healed by the power and grace of the technology of the dark planet. He had improved, so to speak, mentally. Improved, as much as to save face in public, behind closed doors he'd change, like a guard dog only loyal to it's master he had grown bipolar, with anyone but his mother and you, he was like a beast ready to be provoked. He was a mother's boy but still...this was too much. He had changed, but the family made sure to not have you notice.

Too much so that he stopped mid-air from killing the elf that had snuck to meet you, your youngest sibling, Irtar, but he had refrained from doing so by your request, which was more like frantic pleading as you had put yourself between him and the male elf.

"What flowers have you chosen?" You finally asked, not wanting to let Valeria down, everyone knew how much...bitter...she could get if not appreciated, which happened very very rarely, but when it did, even Eckhart himself would turn to a hiding place. You didn't blame her though, she did everything she could to ensure her family's happiness, she sometimes just...popped.

Valeria perked up "Oh darling we were thinking of doing a huge row of sunflowers! The artificial sun ray of the garden can grow so warm and cozy that it can nourish them!" The duchess clasped her hands together, the lace of her gloves making a soft pat sound. "How...how about roses? White roses?" You asked softly "Oh my child we can have white roses as well! How about tulips too?" You nodded, making the ancient vampire let out a happy chirp as she walked about. You had sulked for too long and you were tired of confining yourself to your quarters.

Madge gave you a thankful look before she pretended to read the small prayer book in her hand, which was a common tradition for expecting mothers, after all, she needed every single one of the dark ones to bless her child as well. You had heard Valeria prayed for a full week without feeding on a single speck of blood, which given Silvain's powers, she was very successful since many pregnant vampires would go mad without feeding within a day.

Speaking of Mr.husband- he hadn't forgotten his habit of showing out of nowhere, so you let out a soft "eep" noise when he appeared, kneeling before you, holding a box in one hand as he caressed your stocking-covered leg with the other "How are you doing my sweetling?" You put your hand on your chest, taking in a deep breath "Silvain Linus meinheart Agarand!" He chuckled, tilted his head to the side as his ponytailed hair fell onto his shoulder, giving you his best puppy-eyed look  "Yes?" He replied with the mischief of a young one in his voice, his sharp fangs showing themselves off "What is wrong with you?!"

"Ow" he pretended to be hurt when you slapped his head with a fan, but his insufferable grin wouldn't go away. Finally, he relented and as he put a kiss to the sole of your foot in his hand, feeling the white thin lace on his lips he looked up at you with an apologetic gaze "I know I know sweetling, I should always knock first" Holding up the box in his other hand. You were going to roll your eyes when you heard a soft meowl, your ears perked up at the sound and you beamed, for the first time, making your husband's breath hitch. "I uh..." he trailed off, not knowing how to speak for a second, holding up the box still.

You snatched the box from him, giggling uncontrollably as you opened it, to reveal a very round and fluffy calico kitten, lovingly collared "Saffie" The kitten let out a soft-pitched meow, it's pink mouth opening and closing before it tilted it's head, looking up at you. "Hello, honeybee!" You cooed and the kitten circled around in the box, giving you a twirl as the bell on its collar jingled in a proud parade of itself, as if already knowing how cute it was. "Meow" it called once more, making your heart melt even further.

Silvain watched you interact with the furry creature with a soft smile, his hand still caressing your foot in the palm of his hand, your happiness meant his, and he'd do anything to ensure it to happen. "It rhymes with taffy!" You held Saffie up, who had a face of "I'm already full of this bitch's shit". The atmosphere of the quarters lightened by your smiles and giggles, making the mood of others improve for the better. 

You wanted to pretend to not remember how your husband had shoved your brother into a pod and had ordered him to be sent back to your home planet, how the young elf had shouted over and over for you to come back home, that everyone had realized what you were trying to do for them, but to be honest, you thought poor Irtar had gone insane from the toxins of the war, yeah, he must have gone insane, you'd better be happy with the quarantine you were in before the duchess would decide you were "healthy" enough to leave the mansion.

Silvain had promised you a fitting home, which was a very spacious mansion close to where his parents' was getting built, that was why he had entrusted you with his siblings, who as equal as the heir to the house of Agarand in enthusiastic way of caring for you.

Life now wasn't that bad if you were trying to be honest. Necropolis was a city of sin and madness, but it was for the poor and the zombies lurking beneath the guarded borders of the protected neighborhoods of the nobles. Life was funded, and you were being adored, but why...why that damned feeling in your gut was warning you, again?

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