📣Notes📣
1.The games featured in these images cover a wide range of genres—from romance and story-driven to healing (cozy) and even horror. Please choose which to play based on your own preferences and comfort level🙌
2. If you are interested in playing any of these games, please make sure to read the warnings and notices before starting👀
3. The order and placement of the games do not reflect their quality or ratings. Every one of them is wonderful👍🌟
I think it's finally time to document a list of games I love📯💗
Still… I didn't expect it to take so much time. I ended up discarding several layouts along the way✍️
With a bit of personal bias, I also want to recommend these games to you. I'm deeply grateful that these games exist — they accompanied me, supported me, and helped me through a very long period of my life💪💪
To all the creators behind these works, I offer my highest respect.
Thank you for your incredible creativity, and thank you for everything🫂❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥
I've been trying to find fics where Yuu has a completely justifiable crashout. I want to see Yuu tearing into Crowly and the Idiot trio for all the crap they've been put through since they got to NRC
Could I please request house wardens catching they're s/o threwing up overblot ink and they're just like 'It's fine' but the ink is slowly taking over and tearing apart their insides? Like, they're not overbloting cuz they're magicless but when they fought off the house wardens, the blot got into their system, and it's not pretty.
Housewarden catching their s/o throwing up blot ink
Riddle Rosehearts
It happened after the fight. After the dust settled, the roses stopped bleeding, and Riddle returned to himself,confused, breathless, horrified.
You were the first to run to him, ignoring the warnings, the lingering sparks of magic still fizzing in the air. You had touched his face, still streaked with blot, and smiled shakily.
“It’s over,” you whispered. “You’re okay now.”
But he hadn’t noticed your hands trembling. He hadn’t seen the ink beneath your fingernails.
The first time you coughed up ink, it was just a droplet. Small. Easy to hide. You wiped it with your sleeve, heart hammering. You told yourself it was a fluke.
Then came the second time. The third.
You started avoiding mirrors because you didn’t want to see the veins blackening faintly beneath your skin.
The corruption wasn’t magical,it couldn’t be. You were magicless. That was the rule. You couldn’t overblot. You shouldn’t be able to.
But maybe… maybe the rules didn’t apply to whatever the blot had become inside you.
And then, one day, Riddle walked into your shared study and found you hunched over the wastebasket, coughing violently.
“Y/N—?” His voice pitched up in panic. He was at your side in seconds, kneeling, grabbing your shoulders,only to freeze as he saw what you’d expelled.
Thick, black ink. Unmistakable.
It clung to your lips. Coated your hand. Pooled at your knees like tar.
You looked up at him with a pale smile. “It’s… fine.”
His heart stopped. “No. No, it isn’t.” His voice was shaking. “You’re not a mage, you—this shouldn't even be possible !”
You tried to stand, but your legs gave out, a fresh stream of ink spilling from your lips. It hissed faintly as it hit the floor, like it was alive.
Riddle caught you before you collapsed, his gloves smearing against the substance as he cradled you. His hands were trembling.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered, his voice cracking. “How long?”
“Since the fight,” you mumbled, barely conscious. “I thought it would pass. I'm not like you… I didn’t think it could overtake me…”
“You’re not overblotting,” he said in disbelief, eyes wide as he looked at your body. “But it’s inside you. It’s killing you.”
You gave a weak laugh. “Guess I'm breaking a few rules, huh?”
He didn’t laugh.
“Don’t joke,” he whispered, forehead pressed to yours. “You didn’t break rules. I did. And you’re paying the price.”
Tears welled in his eyes.
“I won’t let this stand. I won’t lose you. Even if I have to rewrite the rules of magic itself.”
And for the first time in a long while, Riddle Rosehearts broke a rule,he left your side only to begin researching forbidden magics, his pristine record forgotten.
Because if the system allowed this… then it didn’t deserve his obedience.
Leona Kingscholar
He finds you behind the botanical garden, hunched over, your hand pressed against your mouth as thick, viscous ink drips through your fingers.
You don’t hear him at first.
You’re too busy trying not to throw up again, trying to breathe, trying to pretend this isn’t as bad as it feels.
But Leona sees. And he freezes.
“…What the hell.”
His voice is low, almost too quiet. Not angry. Not yet. Just… stunned.
You turn your head slightly, weakly, forcing a smile that looks more like a grimace. “Hey…”
His eyes narrow at the blot staining your lips and chin.
“What is that?”
You try to wipe it away. “It’s just… a little leftover blot. From the fights. I guess it got in me somehow—”
“You guess?” He cuts you off, but there’s no venom in it. Just a sharp edge of disbelief. “You’re throwing it up.”
You glance away, embarrassed. “I didn’t think it’d get this bad.”
Leona steps forward, slowly. His expression isn’t scowling or pissed—it’s something worse.
Worried.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I didn’t want you to worry. You’ve already got enough going on.”
A long silence stretches between you.
Then, softly,so softly it almost doesn’t sound like him,he mutters, “Don’t do that.”
You blink up at him. “Do what?”
“Decide for me.” He looks at you now, and there’s a tightness in his voice that pulls something deep in your chest. “If you’re hurting—especially because of me—I want to know. You don’t get to protect me by putting yourself through hell.”
You try to make a joke, to lighten the moment. “Wow. That sounded dangerously close to sentiment.”
But he doesn’t smile. He just exhales and crouches in front of you, eye-level now.
“You look like your insides are fucking breaking apart.”
“…They might be.”
He tenses, jaw clenching, but he doesn’t lash out. He just reaches out and rests his hand behind your back, steadying you as you tremble.
“You’re magicless. You shouldn't even be able to survive it.” His voice is low, rough. His grip on you tightens slightly,anger, panic, frustration, all twisted into his jaw. “Do you have any idea what this’ll do to you?”
You manage a laugh. “Think I’m finding out.”
His ears flatten. His tail lashes behind him. But his hands don’t leave you.
“I’m taking you to someone who can help,” he says, his voice firm but careful. “You don’t argue. You don’t pretend. You let me take care of it this time.”
You’re too tired to fight. You lean into him, and he lifts you without complaint, one arm around your shoulders, the other under your knees.
His brow stays furrowed the entire time.
He doesn’t say much else. But the way he holds you,secure, protective, just a little too tight,says enough.
And just before you slip into unconsciousness, you hear him murmur something into your hair.
“You saved my damn life. So don’t think I’m letting you throw yours away.”
Azul Ashengrotto
He thought it was a joke at first.
You were always trying to hide things from him, especially when it came to your injuries. You were proud, and he admired that,even if it made him worry. But when he caught you stumbling out of the Mostro Lounge’s back hallway, one hand gripping the wall, the other pressed against your lips, he didn’t smile.
Then you collapsed to your knees.
And the ink came spilling out.
Thick, black, vile. It hit the floor in splatters, sticky and alive, like it didn’t want to leave your body. Your back arched with the force of it, and you coughed so hard it sounded like something inside you cracked.
Azul dropped the clipboard he’d been holding.
His shoes echoed across the polished floor as he rushed to you, faster than he’d ever let himself move in public. “Y/N—!”
You waved a shaky hand, still hunched over. “It’s okay, it’s just—just a little blot..”
“That,”kneeled beside you, “is not a little blot!”
You were tired. Your eyes were glassy. And the ink,gods, the ink was boiling. Like it was trying to crawl its way back down your throat.
He tried to reach for you, but paused, hesitating. What if touching you made it worse? What if his magic triggered something else?
You noticed. Even through the haze, you gave him a soft, crooked smile. “Don’t look so scared… I’m magicless, remember? I can’t overblot.”
“You don’t need magic to be consumed by it,” he snapped, voice cracking. “You were exposed. Weren’t you? During the fights—against me—”
“…Yeah.”
He closed his eyes for just a moment. His chest hurt.
“How long?”
You hesitated.
“How long, Y/N?”
“…Two weeks.”
Azul’s hands trembled, just slightly. He never trembled.
“I could’ve helped you,” he whispered.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
A bitter, strangled sound left his throat,something between a scoff and a gasp.
“You think I’d care about appearances when you’re dying in front of me?”
You leaned into him, your strength fading fast. He caught you this time, arms curling around your form as the ink soaked into his sleeves. He didn’t flinch.
“Stay with me,” he said softly, his voice lower than it had ever been. “I don’t care what it takes. I’ll find a way. I don’t need a contract. I don’t need payment. I just—"
He cut himself off.
Held you tighter.
Pressed his forehead to yours, eyes wide and shining.
“…Please,” he breathed. “Don’t leave me alone again.”
You managed to whisper his name before everything went dark.
And Azul stayed there, holding you, ink pooling around him like a curse he couldn’t bargain his way out of.
Kalim Al Asim
You didn’t want him to see it.
You’d been hiding it for days, shivers, the way you sometimes gripped your stomach like something was tearing through you. You kept smiling, waving off his concern, calling it a cold, stress, anything to keep his eyes off the truth.
But Kalim was nothing if not persistent.
He followed you when you left the party early, weaving through the celebration in Scarabia with apologies and excuses. You’d said you needed air. But he found you behind the dorm, bent over and gasping, your hand trembling as it caught the wall to steady yourself.
“Y/N?” His voice was light at first. Confused.
You turned to him too late.
The ink was already pouring from your mouth.
Thick, black, and writhing,like it was fighting to stay inside. It hit the sand like tar, steaming in the desert air. Kalim froze. His breath caught in his throat.
“Y/N?!”
You coughed again, nearly collapsing, but he caught you just before you hit the ground. His hands were on your shoulders, then your back, his jewelry clinking as he tried to support you.
“I—I’m fine—” you gasped, barely able to lift your head.
You looked up at him with eyes too tired to lie. “It got in me. During the fight..with Jamil..”
Kalim blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Then he shook his head, violently. “No. No, no, no—that’s impossible, you’re not even a mage, you can’t—”
“I know. I can’t overblot.” You gave a hollow laugh that turned into a rasping cough. “But it’s inside me. It’s still killing me, just… slower.”
You expected panic. You expected fear.
What you didn’t expect was Kalim to wrap his arms around you and hold on like he’d drown without you.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered into your shoulder, voice shaking. “I didn’t know. I should’ve known. I—”
“It’s not your fault—”
“It is,” he said, louder now. “It is, because I would’ve never let you near him if I knew this could happen! I would’ve protected you-I would’ve done something—!”
You coughed again, ink dribbling past your lips. Kalim wiped it away with a shaking thumb.
“…Why didn’t you tell me?”
You couldn’t answer. Not with the way the pain twisted inside you.
But your silence said enough.
Kalim pressed his forehead against yours, holding you close even as the ink stained his white and gold sleeves.
“I’m going to fix this,” he whispered. “I don’t care how long it takes, or what I have to give up. You’re my light, Y/N. And I won’t let you go out.”
He pulled you closer still.
Kalim Al-Asim felt helpless in the face of something he couldn’t fix with love alone.
Vil Schoenheit
Vil had always prided himself on control.
Poise. Discipline. Perfection. His life was a routine of polished movements, carefully chosen words, and flawless performances. Emotions were something to be harnessed, not shown. Mess was something to be cleaned up not lived through.
And yet.
He found you doubled over in the pristine bathroom of Pomefiore, retching up a substance that didn’t belong in any world where things made sense.
It was black. Viscous. Blot.
It clung to your mouth like tar, trailing in thin strings from your lips as you spat the rest into the sink. Your hands were shaking, gripping the edges of the porcelain like you might fall apart if you let go.
Vil stopped in the doorway. Time seemed to catch its breath.
“…Y/N?”
Your eyes flicked to him through the mirror.Hollow.
“…Hey,” you said hoarsely. “You’re not supposed to be back yet.”
He didn’t respond. He walked forward, slowly, carefully,as if any sudden move would break you entirely. His reflection stood beside yours, immaculate as always, but you,you looked like death.
“I told you I was fine,” you whispered, voice cracking.
Vil reached for your chin, tilting your face toward his with the gentlest touch he’d ever given anyone. His hand didn’t shake but his breath did.
“That,” he said coolly, “is not fine.”
You tried to smile, but it slipped before it even formed. “It’s… from the SDC. I didn’t notice at first. But the ink,it’s been in me since then.”
His eyes flickered, sharp and calculating, but you could see the fracture behind them.
“You knew,” he said, voice dangerously low. “And you kept it from me.”
“I didn’t want to worry you.”
Vil laughed,humorless, bitter. “You didn’t want to worry me? Y/N, you are coughing up blot. That’s not a worry, it’s a nightmare.”
You tried to sit up straighter, but the movement sent a violent spasm through your chest, and more ink spilled out of you. Vil caught you as you crumpled, holding you upright against him, not caring that the blot was staining his gloves, his robe,him.
“I didn’t think it’d get this bad,” you admitted, voice trembling. “I thought it would go away.”
“Things like this don’t just go away,” he snapped, but his arms were steady around you. “It festers. It spreads. And now—” He cut himself off. His breath hitched.
And then softer, almost pleading: “Why didn’t you let me help you?”
You looked up at him, tears burning at the corners of your eyes. “Because I knew you'd look at me like this. Like I’m broken. Like I ruined something.”
His expression shattered.
“I don’t care if it’s broken,” he said, voice thick. “We fix broken things. We heal them. But I can’t do that if you keep hiding it.”
You tried to protest, but he pulled you closer.
“From this moment on,” he murmured, voice fierce and low, “you are not hiding another thing from me. Not your pain. Not your fear. Nothing.”
“…Okay,” you whispered.
He brushed the hair from your face, cradling you like something fragile, precious. For once, he didn’t care about his appearance, or who might see him kneeling on the bathroom floor, covered in ink. All he cared about was keeping you here.
Alive. Safe.
His.
“You are not dying from this,” Vil said, not a hope but a command. “I won’t allow it.”
Idia Shroud
It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
You’d promised. You told him it was just a scratch,that when the fight was over, you’d be fine. He’d seen you tired, bruised but still standing. Still smiling.
So why were you now curled up on the floor of his room in Ignihyde, your back pressed to the side of his bed, trembling as you violently coughed up black blot like your lungs were trying to reject your own insides?
“Wh-What the hell?!” Idia dropped the tablet in his hands. The clatter echoed too loud in the silence.
You wiped at your mouth, slowly turning your head to look at him with dull, glassy eyes. “It’s fine,” you muttered. “It’s just… leftover. From the overblot. I must’ve absorbed some of it.”
“‘Just’—??” Idia’s voice cracked, his hair flaring in jagged bursts. “That’s blot, Y/N. Not a nosebleed. Not a cold. That’s corrupted magic and pure suffering in liquid form!”
You tried to stand, but your legs gave out, and Idia was at your side before you hit the ground.
His hands hovered, twitching nervously. “Okay. Okayokayokay. This is—this is fine. Not fine fine, obviously, this is nightmare fuel tier, but like—okay, okay, I can fix this. Maybe.”
You leaned against him, breathing shallow. “Idia…”
“No. Don’t ‘Idia’ me right now,” he said, breath quick. “Why didn’t you say something?! I have monitoring programs—scans—serums—okay, mostly for Ortho, but still. I could’ve done something..!”
You rested your head on his shoulder. “Didn’t want to bother you.”
He froze.
“…Bother me?” he repeated in a whisper. “You really think you’d ever be a bother?”
Your silence said it all.
His voice cracked. “You’re the only person who makes this dumb room feel like something more than a digital grave. You show up, and suddenly it’s like I’m not just a spooky background character anymore. You make me feel like I matter. And you thought this wasn’t important enough to tell me?”
You didn’t mean to cry. You hadn’t even noticed it until the ink mixed with tears on your cheeks.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this.”
He pulled you into his chest not with elegance, not with a dramatic speech, but with desperation. “I see you,” he whispered. “Not the ink. Not the breaking down part. Just… you.”
His fingers curled into your shirt as his voice went quiet.
“…I’m scared.”
“Me too,” you admitted.
He nodded, shakily. “Then we’re scared together.”
He adjusted your weight against him, wrapping his arms around you tighter,awkward, too warm, a little sweaty, but real.
“You’re not allowed to die,” he muttered. “I didn’t install a save point. Don’t make me invent necromancy.”
You gave a tiny, painful laugh.
And for once, it didn’t sound like a game anymore.
Malleus Draconia
The storm was still raging when you stumbled through the doors of Diasomnia.
Lightning cracked above the towers, thunder rolling across the moors, but the sound of it couldn’t drown out your gasps or the slick, wet sound of black ink splattering onto the cold floor beneath your feet.
You barely made it three steps before you collapsed to your knees, one hand bracing yourself while the other gripped your stomach. It felt like fire. Like something inside you was trying to rot its way out.
And then—
“Y/N.”
Malleus’ voice.
He appeared beside you in the blink of an eye, his presence nearly making the air vibrate with how quickly his magic reacted to your pain.
You looked up, vision swimming, lips trembling. “I—I’m fine.”
You weren’t.
You were coughing up tar-black blot like your lungs were lined with it, like your very soul had been stained by it. No magical signature, no spell. Just residue,something left behind after fighting too many overblots made of sorrow and rage.
Malleus knelt in front of you, his hands hovering at first, not daring to touch until you looked at him and gave the smallest nod.
The moment you did, he reached out and pulled you close, cradling you as if your body were made of glass.
“You’re not fine,” he said, voice lower than usual. There was a storm brewing inside him now, too. You could feel it.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you whispered, breath hitching. “I didn’t want you to worry.”
Malleus’ grip tightened slightly, his forehead resting against yours.
“I am always worried,” he murmured. “But I would rather be frightened by your truth than soothed by your silence.”
You flinched as another wave of pain struck, your spine arching as you coughed up more of the ink. It burned your throat. It felt like it was eating you alive.
And still—still—you clutched at his sleeve, as if asking him not to leave.
“I’m here,” he whispered immediately. “I will not leave. Not now. Not ever.”
You barely noticed the flickering green glow wrapping around you until you felt it seep into your bones. Gentle, ancient magic,dragged from deep within Malleus himself. Not offensive, not protective. Restorative.
But it didn’t work.
Not completely.
Because the blot wasn’t a spell. It wasn’t something that could be undone by fae power or reversed by time-honored rites. It was corruption,infectious,cruel and it was already far too deep inside.
Still, he tried.
He kept one hand against your chest, the other against your cheek, murmuring in an old tongue that only the fae still remembered. His words weren’t spells,they were promises.
The ink didn’t vanish, but it slowed. Your shaking eased. The agony remained, but Malleus' magic acted like a shield,like a steady breath amid the smoke.
“I failed you,” you whispered weakly. “I should’ve been stronger.”
He shook his head, his voice tight. “No. You were braver than I ever deserved. You fought battles we could not see. You bore a weight alone that should have crushed you and still, you stood.”
A long pause. Then:
“You were never meant to burn alone.”
He pressed his forehead to yours again, his next words barely audible:
“If this ink dares to take you from me… then I shall walk into the dark and bring you back myself.”
You shuddered, tears slipping free at last.
You didn’t want to die.
And under Malleus’ trembling hands, you felt the same truth written in his every touch:
Your mother always told you to get home before nightfall. But what happens in the forest when it's dark? Who lurks there, waiting for you?
A lovely commission from an anon ♥
It was a lot of fun to work on this, thank you for giving me the chance to write out your idea!
Characters: Yandere!Fae!Malleus (TWST) x GN!Reader
Words: ~6.5k
Warnings: Yandere, Mystical Beings (Fae), Stalking, Hunting, Hypnosis, Manipulation, Mention of Death
Things linger where the sun doesn't shine, your mother used to say, and you had always believed her. There was no reason not to, and even as an adult, you were careful about where you went and at what time you traversed the darkest places. It wasn't easy keeping yourself afloat with the meager jobs there were for you to do, but most of the time, you still managed to earn your keep before night settled over the village closest to your home, so you never had to walk the forest in the dark.
Until that fateful night.
Not many things scared you, after all, you lived alone and knew how to defend yourself and your house against intruders. But the sounds of the forest, the rustling of the leaves, the cracking of branches, and the bone-chilling cries of animals still made your blood run cold. It was eery, even if you knew it was completely normal and explainable despite your nervous reactions. Looking back over your shoulder became a regular motion as you braved the way home. Selling your recent batch of bundled herbs had gone on way too long as you had refused to give up without selling every one of them.
Money was always tight, so exceptions had to be made.
Still, you hugged yourself as you kept moving forward, feeling and hearing the gravel beneath your feet. You had walked this road so many times in your life that it was second nature by now. Even without looking, you knew where the holes were that would make you stumble, and you knew how long it would take before you reached your home and could lock the door and bundle up. But even with that knowledge, walking the path this late at night felt… off. Strange. Wrong.
There had been recent rumors going around the town's people. Somewhere a few villages over, a changeling had been found. In another place, someone met a strange person asking about their name. Those same rumors appeared every couple of years, and you had never believed them. They were merely figments of imagination, perhaps to scare the children from misbehaving. Your mother never used those scares on you, although she had never directly denied the existence of other creatures in the forest. Creatures that were neither animal nor human. Fae, she called them. The fair protectors of the woods and tenacious tricksters, if they happen to take a liking to you. She was an odd woman, you had to admit, but she seemed convinced of her own stories.
You tried not to think of the stories of abduction and disappearances you had heard over the years and how they had always correlated to her stories, but your mind was racing, as was your heart. "There is nothing to be afraid of," you tried to calm yourself down, but every step you took, leading deeper into the barely lit woods, terrified you more.
What if there was something? Something otherworldly, that couldn't be defined by human standards and used mischief and trickery to take advantage of careless wanderers? What if there were lost souls all around you, and you weren't even aware of their cries for help because they were taken to another realm? What if something followed you home?
Internally, you cursed yourself for letting your thoughts run wild neither productively nor helpfully. Those stories weren't true, they wouldn't really happen, especially not to you. So what, you had to go home in the dark once? Realistically, many people had to, so why would anything happen to you specifically? Deciding to not let your thoughts freak you out any further, you took a deep breath, curling your hands into fists as you marched onwards. Soon, you'd be home; that was all you should think about.
It wasn't until the sound of gravel beneath your soles was multiplied that fear managed to creep back into you.
Your heart was pounding, and your posture stiffened. You noticed the figure approaching you on the same road, going in the opposite direction of you. Even in the dark, punctuated by the moonlight, you managed to make out the outlines of their cloak swishing in the wind, their hood covering their face as they walked confidently. They seemed to have no hurry, even though the forest was dark and menacing, in stark contrast to you, who only felt more nervous the closer you two got.
In a split-second decision to get more distance between you two, you jumped off the road and onto the grassy bit separating the way from the forest. It was a minimal difference, but it made you feel safer as if you could avoid the person better. Step by step, your pulse seemed to rise, pounding in your ears as they got closer and closer until they were right beside you, respectfully lowering their head a little in a bow. You scrambled to do the same, not needing a disgruntled wanderer on your tail now, barely making eye contact with them from under their hood as you took larger steps to get away faster.
The figure was huge, but perhaps that was just your imagination.
You were so lost in your hurry, simply trying to get away, that you didn't listen to the sound of gravel coming to an abrupt spot behind you, sharp green eyes watching you, piercing through the night effortlessly. There would be no harm if you were far enough away, right? A stranger could smile all they wanted behind your back, you didn't have to care as long as you escaped their sight before they could catch up to you. So, with steps stumbling over themselves, you hurried alongside the path, your breath hitching as you kept holding it.
There was no way that person could catch up to you after you got away this easily, right?
But was it that easy?
Your feet dragged over the path, the forest stretching out before you endlessly. For years, you had taken the same route and walked the same road that your mother had shown you. You knew every curve and obstacle on the way, yet everything seemed so different at night. Had the stones beneath your feet always been so big, the trees' branches loomed over you, the way home taking so long? You weren't sure anymore. If there had been any sunlight left, you could have told the time that was left exactly, only by the trees you were passing. But in the dark, everything was shrouded in mystery, much to your dismay.
When would you be home? The question kept recurring over and over as you forced yourself forward, legs burning with strain, and sweat collecting on your forehead. Surely, at some point, you'd reach your home, giving you a chance to put up your feet and rest your aching back. Even if you worked to survive, some days were harder than others, and with a forest that seemed to go on forever, even more so. But there was no time to rest. No time to think or wait out the pain, the only thing that could make you stop in your tracks would be…
A fork in the path.
"There is no fork!" you gasped, both confused and surprised. "There never is a fork in the path!"
In all these years, you never had to make a choice. Left or right were directions reserved for the marketplace when you decided to open shop every day—but not for your way to and from the village. Never once, not even subconsciously, did you have to decide which path to take, and you didn't know where the other one would lead you. Another town? A clearing in the woods? Someone's property, however odd the choice was to live far away from civilization? But perhaps someone else was like your mother, preferring the solitude over the convenience and bustle of a village.
Perhaps you had taken a wrong turn somewhere prior? "No, impossible," you whispered to yourself, biting your lip in confused frustration. How could this have happened? All you did was a mere repeat from yesterday and the day before. The only difference was the time of day, and that simply wasn't reason enough for this change.
Turning towards the slightly straighter split, you decided it must be the right one. If you had never taken a left turn before, then wherever that path went, it couldn't have been the correct one. It was hard to ignore the gnawing feeling of something being terribly off about all of this, but there wasn't much you could do other than move on. Standing here in the middle of the dark forest simply wasn't an option; the real and not-so-real risks of being an easy target out here were nothing you wanted to tempt.
You always walked the direct way home, and you'd not change now. Nothing would tempt you astray, and you were prepared to face what lay ahead. Surely, the strangeness and off-putting feelings were deeply established fears from your childhood. You always hated your mother leaving you alone at night to perform her little rituals and speak to what she called the "protectors of the forest". What an odd woman she was, but you were different, much, much different. You survived the many nights she left, and the one morning she didn't return. Surely, you'd survive this forest as well.
A soft gasp escaped you as you detected movement straight ahead. The moonlight that threw dots of light onto the ground kept disappearing and appearing repeatedly with the swaying of the leaves, closer and closer to you as your feet slowed down, the exhaustion forgotten with your heart working twice as fast, hitting your rips uncomfortably. A figure, huge and with steady movements, closed in on you, their body covered in a cape, their face hooded. You've seen them before, knowing it right away, but it made no sense that they came from the path ahead of you. They passed you before, right? You didn't just imagine that?
With only two, perhaps three steps, separating you two, the figure came to a stop. As had you, you noticed only now, your feet frozen to the ground while your knees shook unintentionally. Somehow, you hadn't avoided the person this time, even though you had to be so careful the first time. They reached up, and you watched with wide-opened eyes as the figure grabbed their hood, slowly peeling it back to reveal their face. In the dark, you were barely able to make out his features, as they were draped in thick, long, black hair. However, with eyes so piercing, shining even without the reflection of the moonlight, it was impossible not to stare. You had no words to describe his deep, striking green gaze, lacking any comparison from your simple life. But it was the colors of jewels you heard about in the market, those that rich people bought and wore, and unlike anything you had ever seen.
The wind rustled the leaves above your head, swaying the branches heavily, although you were barely affected by it where you stood. Neither was the stranger, whose image became clearer as more light slipped through the trees, a soft smile playing on his lips as he looked down at you, his hand outstretched, with a luscious vine of grapes in it, towards you. Even the fruits seemed to shine in the light, plump and big, nothing like the grapes you were used to. They were enticing, and you felt even more confused about why he'd show you something as precious as this fruit since it wasn't common in this area.
"You seem exhausted," he spoke, his voice like a sigh in the wind. The stranger took another step forward, invitingly shaking his hand with the grapes. "Feel free to have some, replenish your strength. You will need it on your journey."
Feeling your mind focus in on the tempting allure of fruits, you bit your lip as you felt your mouth water. How sweet would they be? Juicy and delicious as you popped them in your mouth? The idea was enough to make your resolution sway, the offer too enticing. And yet, you managed to stop yourself, gripping your own hand as something inside you began to scream.
Trap. Trap. TRAP!
"No, thank you," you replied politely, tearing your foot away from the ground to make a step to the side. It was only a small resistance against the trance you felt under, but it slowly put your body back into motion, your thoughts becoming your own again, your flesh coming alive. It felt like you hadn't breathed for a while, your lungs filling with air and your heart picking up the speed again, blood pumping through your body.
The stranger's smile seemed to crack in one corner of his mouth before he drew the grapes back towards him, his eyes narrowing. "Are you lost?" he asked, and this time, you thought you heard an echo repeating the words from inside the forest. It gave you the creeps. "Do you need help? I know the way back, I can show you."
Shaking your head, slow, then vehemently, you tore your eyes off him, forcing another heavy step to take place, putting one foot in front of the other. It was all so tedious, or perhaps, as if time had slowed down, and with it, your very being. All your thoughts came and went, but the impulses and movements were slow and heavy, and nothing worked as you were used to it.
So it was no surprise that one step to the stranger's side put him right before you.
The alluring scent of an elderberry tree wafted into your nose, your mouth now watering from both the thought of the grapes and the memories of your mother's elderberry jam that you had always loved as a child. He had yet to block your path completely, but your body could barely move from the same spot as he inched closer, his free hand raising up, close to your face as if to caress you.
"Are you okay?" he asked, and you felt inclined to answer with a resolute "No!" but the words wouldn't press out of your throat, your lips opening, but no sound escaping them. You pressed them together in frustration, fear rushing through you as the stranger was about to touch you. You didn't know him and didn't want to know him; all of this was wildly inappropriate! All you wanted was to get home and lock yourself into the cabin, hoping and praying he wouldn't find you there.
Luckily, that was enough to give your body the push that was needed.
With the agility of a fox, you ducked and slid past the stranger, too fast for him to react. Looking back over your shoulder, you saw his eyes widen in surprise, his whole body straightening up to this full height as his features widened and spread, his expression turning into something more akin to elatedness. It was as if a thrill of excitement overcame him before it suddenly vanished, the person returning back into a state of calm, watching you run.
You felt his gaze at your back for a long time, those piercing green eyes drilling into you violently as he watched every step you took away from him. You found yourself looking back a few times, seeing him simply standing there. Eventually, you watched him pluck one of the grapes, eating them demonstratively as if to show they weren't poisoned. And the next time, he had pulled up his hood again, turning to walk in the direction you had come from, just like before, both of you disappearing back into the forest's darkness again, as if you had never met at all.
But you knew better than that. Something about that person had triggered an inherent need to get away from him. Even when you had been held back by the unexplainable resistance of your own body, you had still realized that you needed to get away. These feelings had been very real, even if you tried to reason with yourself that you were overreacting and there was nothing that warranted such extreme emotions towards someone looking out for you.
However, even so, you couldn't help but keep looking back. Although there was nothing more to see as the darkness enveloped you again, you felt as if his eyes were still digging into you, trying to bore into your very soul and display it openly for him. Whoever he was, from the first meeting on, you knew something wasn't right about him. And this feeling only confirmed it for you.
You had to get home.
No matter what you had to do, and despite your best efforts to calm yourself down, you had to get out of the darkness. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Maybe all that happened was mere coincidence, but it no longer helped to imagine it as such. You could feel the fear pulsing through your veins and the panic govern your muscles. Everything was strained and stressed, and the only thing on your mind was the safety of your home and the light of your fireplace. It had been a stupid idea to stay in town for too long; no amount of money was worth what you were going through now. No amount would save you if you fell victim to whatever was lurking in these damned woods.
Stricken with fear, you brushed aside any branch and any thorn that was in your way. In retrospect, it seemed like a warning. Like they were trying to hold you back from something, and latest, when you felt your footing slip, you knew from what. First, you landed on your back, the ground disappearing beneath your soles and throwing you back. Next you knew, you were tumbling through fallen leaves and into the occasionally growing bush on the incline. However, nothing was stopping you now, not even the dense forest, the trees seemingly giving way to your fall, and the scream you emitted at first turned into gasps and grunts as the dirt led you further and further into the thicket.
There was no hill on your way. There was nothing you had to climb and even fewer obstacles as the way down had. Had you chosen the wrong split when you were given the options? Should you have gone left where you walked right? Were you even on the correct path to begin with, or had it all been fated to go wrong the moment you entered the forest at a time your mother warned you about?
You didn't know, but it stopped as abruptly as it happened.
With a loud oomph! sound, your body finally came to a halt. The world was still spinning, light flooding your vision despite you barely opening your eyes. You didn't know if you were standing or lying on the ground anymore, even though you felt cold moonlight shine down on you, your body aching harder than it had all night. For a moment, you considered just lying down in the spot you were, tackling the intricacies of getting up, taking care of your bruises and scratches, and making your way home once the sun was rising over your head again. Maybe if you stayed still, nothing and no one would come to harm you. It almost seemed like the safer option at that moment.
Dreadfully, your body was forced to disagree, an ominous shiver running through you. The lovely scent of elderflower washed over you as someone held out their hand, asking, "Are you alright, Darling?" in a voice sweeter than honey and reassuring you of not being alone, the true culprit in all of this. Your body reacted like any desperate human would, seeking the comfort of another person to lift your spirits. Fingers wrapped around your palm and wrist as you rested your hand on the stranger's, and you felt the tug in every muscle along your arm and back strain as if this was a punishment.
Your face landed in a solid chest, layered with soft fabrics that cushioned your fall. You knew this person, yet you knew nothing at all, and that was what your mind concentrated on. After all the panic, stress, and pain, it felt safe not to be alone anymore, and you relished in the feeling of receiving help. When he stepped to the side, your body followed, and when he turned you around, sending a chill down your spine as you felt his gaze fall on you, you opened your eyes for the first time, looking up.
For a moment, it felt like you were falling again, but then, your behind landed gently on top of a stump, your chin raised towards the man in front of you, smiling just as tenderly down at you as he had before. Perhaps even more so, as the smile seemed to reach his eyes this time, a weird sense of knowing him tingling in the back of your mind. You had never met him before, yet it felt like he knew you.
Taking a knee before you, the stranger didn't make your neck strain to look at him for very long, one hand landing on your thigh while he raised the other up and towards you, the same, voluptuous vine of ripe grapes resting in his palm. "You look so exhausted, my dear," he whispered, only loud enough to be heard by you. "Let me help you recover your strength. It's been such a long way, hasn't it? It must have been so hard."
As tempting as the fruits were, displayed to you so invitingly, your unfocused gaze shifted further, grazing over the pale fingers and the long, black nails. In fact, the color seemed to start from the fingertip, eventually resulting in the deep, dark at the tip of his claw-like ends. The longer you looked, the more your vision began to blur, endings and beginnings becoming unclear, and even the deep red shining in the moonlight mixing into his skin's pale whiteness. It was uncanny and unreal.
And it hit you like a blow to the head.
The rumors, the stories. Your mother's warning and tales. Even if you tried to deny it for so long, suddenly, you realized deep inside of you that all of them had been real. That there truly was something otherworldly out there. Not nature, not animal, not human.
Your eyes shot upwards to look into his, and you suddenly felt very clear and awake, unlike some seconds ago, the daze fleeting. His eyes were nothing like a human, the green nauseatingly bright, and the pupils slitted. However, they seemed to quiver as they looked at you, only a small part of your reflection visible in them. And from the dark curls, horns wound themselves towards the sky, a feature you had missed before.
"Who are you?" you mumbled, a part of you still in disbelief even if the evidence was clear. Nothing about this stranger was human, and you doubted it ever had. That would explain him appearing again and again, and you shuddered at the thought that you, getting lost in the woods, was his doing as well.
His lips curled higher, exposing his teeth, the hints of fangs protruding from his open lips. At the same time, his face softened, and with his free hand, the stranger reached for yours, clasping it tightly. "It's only natural for you to forget my name. It's been such a long time, hasn't it?"
Every word he spoke ran another chill down your spine, and you quickly tore your hand out of his grip, wanting none of the closeness he was initiating. You didn't know him, or did you? Nothing sparked in your memories, only your instincts were on high alert as they urged you to get away.
The stranger lowered his gaze to his hand, his expression turning sullen, but he quickly looked up at you again, this time, determination swirling in dark green threads in his irises. "I'll help you remember, then."
This was getting out of hand, goosebumps spreading over your arms as you attempted to get up. With his proximity, it was hard to create enough space. Out of panic, you turned towards him, wanting to push him away, your lips opening in verbal protest. But you were completely taken aback by the push of a round, firm grape to your lips, his long fingers resting at the side of your face as his thumb pressed the fruit into your mouth unrelentingly. Even though you tried your best to resist, pressing your teeth together, the pressure and the slight threat of sharp claws close to your throat eventually made your jaw yield. Before long, the fruit rolled onto your tongue, his thumb lodging beneath your chin and keeping your mouth closed so you couldn't spit it out.
"Remember," he spoke auspiciously, the expectations of the unknown in his gaze, his whole body leaning forward until his scent wafted all around you.
You felt overcome by dizziness as if your body was going to fall, but every time you braced for impact, nothing happened. Inadvertently, your teeth cut the skin of the fruit as you tried to tear out of the trance that you felt creeping through your body, a dangerously sweet taste washing over your tongue. Immediately, your mouth watered, desiring more of the flavor, the grape swaying back and forth on your tongue, more cuts appearing and tearing it apart as it collided with your teeth. By the time you realized you were actively biting into it, savoring the taste spreading all over your mouth, you were slowly succumbing to the magic twirling around you, now visible to even your eyes.
Laughter from the trees, colors swishing by. The night turned into day, but it was all just a dream that was slowly devouring you without you realizing it. Flowers began to bloom all over the clearing that you could see clearly now, with other figures standing nearby, some of them dancing, others eating fruits from each other's hands and licking up the juices.
"Remember, darling," the fae before you urged, popping another grape into your mouth that your body practically inhaled.
"Remember who you are. Remember me."
But how? You kept munching the grape as you pondered the question, trying to solve the riddle you were given. Why was it so important, and what could there be to remember?
Looking up once more, the scenery had shifted again. You were in the forest, garlands of flowers were hung between the branches, and people wore flower crowns and danced. You could even hear the music playing from somewhere. A hand holding yours helped you stand up as you looked at the people who turned towards you, cheering and clapping their hands as if to celebrate you, but why? What was the reason? The scenery was… familiar. You had been here before, hadn't you?
"It's our wedding day. Do you remember now?"
Turning your head towards the stranger next to you, you noticed he had a change of clothes. Long, flowing garments robed him, and when you looked down at yourself, you noticed them on you, too. The wind was blowing gently, the air warm and humid, and everyone was happy and jolly, but that wasn't right… why would you marry a stranger?
"It's not… we're not marrying. I don't know you!"
In an instant, the magic dispelled, the laughter fell silent and the people disappeared. It was night again, the moon shining down on the angry expression on the fae's face. For some reason, you had managed to break the spell on you, and for a moment, your thoughts were as clear as the night sky above you.
"I've been patient, my love," he spoke sternly. Picking up another grape, he made a step towards you as you took one back. "I've accepted your mother's conditions. I waited. I waited for so long, watching over you as you took the road through my forest every morning and every evening. Waited silently for you to take it at night, as was the condition of the pact your mother and I made. She swore you'd never walk my forest at night or be mine once more. You will remember now."
Claws shot towards you, burying one more grape in your mouth. You tried to spit it out before it could do its damage, but the fae's palm sealed your lips, and you had no choice but to swallow. Immediately, you were overcome by its taste again, sweetness coating every inch of your mouth and all the way down your throat. It was irresistible.
You were craving more, and Malleus was happy to provide it. One after another, he plopped the magical grapes into your mouth, providing you with more of the bliss-like effect they had on you. At first, you struggled against his hand, pulling at his arm, but he didn't move an inch, even as you used all your strength. Instead, he squeezed the grapes, their delicious juices running down his fingers and coating your lips until you lapped them up like a greedy dog.
Only then did you realized.
"Malleus," you mumbled against his palm, the words pressed into his hand like kisses as your eyes widened. You did know him. You knew his name, you knew what he was. You two met before. Before when you…
"Yes," he purred, "Yes, my love. Finally."
Without hesitation, he pushed another grape between his fingers, making you swallow it and remember everything. The forests, the games of hide and seek you used to play with the fairies. The "imaginary" friend you told your mother about. By the time you were eighteen, you were so lonely. Still, she thought you made up friends that you played with all day.
Until you didn't return and the night set in the forest.
The day she vanished, and you were left alone at the cabin, unable to remember what happened.
"This time, there is no one stopping us from exchanging our names. I'll be yours, and you'll be mine, just like we promised years ago," Malleus announced. "Tell me. Tell me your name."
A very bad feeling overcame you as his hand lifted from your mouth, and you pressed your lips shut, the sticky sweetness of the grapes grasping its greedy claws into your brain, fogging it again. You caught yourself wondering what would be so bad about telling him. That it would be okay, if it was Malleus, right? He should know; he was your husband, after all.
"Tell me your name," he demanded again, sounding more forceful this time.
Don't tell him! the voice of your mother rang out in your mind, it was like a scream, one you had heard before. Before, when she interrupted the ceremony. That's right! You were about to marry the fae, telling him your name, when she came running, breathless and panicked, pulling you against her chest and screaming in a language you didn't understand. There had been hissing all around you, and then she was gone, screaming at you to run.
"No…" you mumbled, furrowing your brows. "I won't."
And with that, you turned, your legs staggering but quickly catching themselves as you suddenly sprinted off in the opposite direction. Somewhere, anywhere. As long as you got away, you'd be safe. You had been before and you would be again as long as you made it until sunrise, your mother had made sure. You simply needed to avoid him until then, and everything would be fine–
With a shriek, your body plummeted to the ground. You felt the tight wrapping of vines around your ankle before you saw them, instinctively kicking at them with your other foot. Panic set in as the vines seemed to avoid every one of your kicks, and you grew more desperate by the second.
"You won't escape. Not this time. Not. Again!"
Looking up, you watched helplessly as Malleus closed the distance, his body convulsing in a strange manner, blurring the lines of his form as his body seemed to disperse into shadows. Scales appeared on his skin, reflecting and shimmering in the moonlight. He looked more and more like a creature from the nightmares you often had rather than the handsome appearance he had shown himself to you. It only proved that the game was over for him, that he was determined to have you this time.
Because you knew his name. You held the power over him until he knew yours, too.
"Mall–" you started to say, realizing what you had to do. But with an inhuman screech, he reached for you, holding your mouth shut. The air was pressed out of your body as you were pinned to the ground, more vines wrapping around your limbs until they held you down tightly, the fae cowering above you, his eyes having turned as black as his hair.
"Do not even try, human!" he spat, knowing fully well what you were about to do.
For a short second, he released your mouth, and you gasped for air, stupidly giving him the chance to push a handful of grapes into your mouth. "What's your name?" he repeated his question, making sure you had no choice but to chew the grapes as he covered your mouth and pinched your nose. You struggled against the vines but couldn't move an inch, growing more desperate as time passed by, your jaw tensing until it happened: the first grape popped. And once it started, your body was uncontrollable, chowing down on all of them while tears began to form in your eyes. You couldn't stop, even if you wanted to, your mind falling into addiction as the sweetness overcame you. It washed through you alongside his magic, and before long, you were licking at your lips and his palm for more.
More, which Malleus provided.
He might have been impatient, but he fed you the whole vine of grapes in his possession, his body turning back into a solid form and the tendrils around your limbs disappearing as you reached for him, licking his fingers for more of the grape juice as if possessed by the desire to eat. Your mind was rapidly losing the battle, rationality thrown out of the window as you crawled towards Malleus, eating the fruit he so readily provided to you, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you succumb to the fae magic.
Until there were only two grapes left, and you mewled, reaching for them like an impatient toddler.
"First!" he announced, holding the grapes up into the air and far away from you. After all, he was so much bigger than you. "What's your name, my love?"
Your name? Pff, that was easy! "It's [Name]," you responded, happily watching as he lowered his hand again, feeding you one of the grapes. It tasted heavenly, much like the others before but even better! Perhaps because it was given to you by your husband—then again, he had given you all of them.
Why did you ever resist?
A man who loved you for years, took away the loneliness, and gave you food without you having to work yourself to the bone. He waited years until you'd make a mistake that would finally return you to him. That's how much he loved you and how dedicated he was to you. And he could provide for you, having shown you his home and the abundance of happiness there all those years ago! Unlike your mother, who had left you alone, he had waited and desired nothing more than to be with you. You were stupid not to give him what he wanted from the beginning. After all, Malleus loved you.
"I love you," he whispered. "Now, we'll be together forever, living happily until the end of our days."
Your lips widened into a big smile. It was all you had ever wanted. Someone to be with, who loved you, who'd care for you. Take away the loneliness and replace it with an unfiltered, passionate love that goes far beyond that of mere humans. This way, you'd be happy. You'd be taken care of and loved.
Tears fell from your eyes as you nodded, agreeing all too readily. "I look forward to it!"
"But first," Malleus stopped you, tapping your nose affectionately. "A kiss to seal the deal."
Popping the last grape between his lips, your eyes fixated on it hungrily, wanting nothing more than to tear it from him and satisfy your own desire. Because it's what the fae did, right? Give the humans what they want in exchange for their very being. No one returned from the fae world, because they were happy there. Maybe you'd even meet your mother again! You'd be a good spouse, one that Malleus had waited for so long. You two would be happy together, just like he promised on your wedding day!
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you drew in close, pressing your lips to his and feeling the fruit splash open between your mouths, coating both of you in its juices. Malleus lapped them up just as hungrily as you did, his tongue slipping into your mouth to taste more of it, and you allowed it, finally ready to let him take what he wanted.
"Mine," he grunted against your lips. "Finally mine."
You were overcome by happiness as you heard him say that, only wishing the tears would stop so you could see him better. Behind you, the sun began to rise, and Malleus's arms wrapped around you, drawing you against his chest but never stopping the kiss. Your tears began to burn against your skin, making you wonder why you couldn't just be happy, why your own happy tears had to sting so much, feeling like needles as they ran down your cheeks.
Lifting you up and turning around, you watched the sunrise as Malleus carried you back into the forest, towards his home. Somehow, the sight of the glowing light felt like betrayal. But you didn't remember why.
"Let's go home," Malleus mumbled, finally breaking the kiss. "We have to make up for a lot of missed time."
You nodded, glancing back only once into the beautiful sun before your bodies slowly disappeared into the dark forest. And with them, the memories of the life you lived until now, all your thoughts replaced by Malleus and the sweetness of his kiss.
Interested in commissioning me for a story? Click here to see all the information!
