A/n: This is a little different. It is my book, with my own oc's except, I tweaked it. It's now you x Gojo!
It is a vampire AU set in my own universe!
Malakai Valzareth becomes Satoru and Ariadne Svanhildr becomes you!!
Get ready because this is a 66 chapter book and it's a series! But just for you all I'll turn it into an awesome fanfic. Enjoy!
Art by @/dkt.artist on X/Twitter
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Veinborne Legacy Series
Description
“Power doesn’t bow. It devours.”
You are no stranger to secrets. Raised in the shadows of a world you barely understand, you’re determined to uncover the truth behind your father’s death. But when your path crosses with Gojo Satoru, a vampire with his own claim to the throne, everything you know begins to unravel.
Gojo is cold and calculating. He is bound by his own dark past, a past that threatens to consume him. Heir to a throne stolen from him, he has no room for weakness. Yet your presence stirs something in him, something dangerous. Your paths are forced to intertwine when an ancient blood vow binds you together, one that cannot be undone.
In a kingdom built on lies, deception is a weapon more deadly than any blade. As your journey takes you deeper into a web of betrayal, passion, and power, you and Gojo must decide how much you’re willing to sacrifice. For in a world of blood and shadows, trust is the most dangerous game of all.
Prologue
The fire had long since died in the hearth, but the coals still glowed, soft and stubborn. The house was silent, like it held its breath. Not with peace… but with warning.
You lie curled on the rug beside the embers, your hand still clutched tightly around the wooden sword your father had carved for you. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You were supposed to stay awake tonight. Just in case he returned late. Just in case your mother’s worried pacing turned into something else.
You were twelve. Old enough to know when something was wrong but too young to name it.
The front door shattered inward.
No scream comes from your mother’s throat. Only a gasp. Cut short and swallowed whole by the cloaked figure that blurred through the threshold like a shadow given form. Another followed. Then another. Their cloaks bore no sigils. Their faces, horrifically masked.
Your mother moves fast, faster than you’ve ever seen her move before; she pulls a dagger from beneath the fireplace stones and shoves it toward you with trembling hands.
“Don’t move. Don’t speak.”
But you do move. You scramble to the hallway where your father had gone after returning from outside just minutes before. You’d seen him walk by, muttering something about a sound in the bedroom.
Now… you wish you’d gone with him.
He runs past you before they drag him into the main room. Your father fights like something is wrong, something other. The calm man you know by scent and laughter is gone. In his place stands something you’ve never seen before; he bares his teeth and his eyes burn gold, not the same brown you always saw, but a gold so deep it looks like a dying sun.
One of the intruders lashes out. Your father’s body jerks under an unusually powerful strike. A crack of sound splits the air like lightning splitting stone.
You can’t breathe, you can’t move. Your hands shake so violently that you dig your fingers into the floorboards.
And then it happens.
The room trembles, not from force, but from something painful and immense. The pressure makes your ears pop and your eyes water. Your father’s eyes flare, the veins along his arms lit with a cold, flickering pulse so deep and strong that you can see it. The air twists. Something inside it changes. Something older than fire, hungrier than time.
For a moment, they can’t touch him. Not with the swords they carry. Not with the power crackling in their palms. Not even with the fear you feel for your father wracking your soul.
And then… one of them whispers something in a language you don’t know. He punches your father across the face and hunches over him. It is a word but sounds like a command, like an order.
Whatever your father is, he collapses. His knees hit the floor. His head bows and gold flickers out like a candle in rain.
He doesn’t speak to you. Not even a glance. Just one last look to your mother, and the faintest shake of his head.
Don’t fight. Don’t follow.
Then they drag him out into the snow. You try to run after him, confused and scared, snot and tears running down your face, but your mother crashes into your back and cages you in her arms, holding you tightly. “WHY?! DAD!” Your mother just shakes her head and sobs into your hair.
You wait long after the door has closed again. Long after the silence has returned, the kind of silence that comes after something sacred is taken.
Your mother never speaks of that night again. The dagger disappears. Their wardrobe is sealed. You bury the wooden sword in the forest behind your home. But never once do you dream of monsters because you know the truth now:
Monsters don’t come from the dark. They come when the fire is warmest… and wear faces that don’t flinch.
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It's been so LONG since I wrote something. I fucking missed you all so much. I could cry. I'm finally back from my vacation (It took longer than expected, lowkey didn't want to leave)
Even though this is a rinse and repeat... It's something... Heh.. Anyways, how have you been??
To all my lovelies who sent me requests: I PROMISE to get to it when I can.. (I'm an unreliable author) but for now I'll be focusing on this right here!!
