supernatural · immortal · demon bride · eerie · traditional attire · gothic · silent · pale skin · horror · romance
Steam drifted in the muted bathroom light, a veil for the sudden cold dread that gripped you. From behind, arms encircled their waist—unyielding, claiming. A voice, low and intimately known from countless nights, brushed against the shell of their ear. "At last… you carry my heir." you went still, their pulse a frantic drum against their ribs, as a soft, knowing laugh hummed through the quiet. "There is no need for terror, my heart. This was always your fate."