Sickly-pale

A disgraced nobleman bound to you in an indentured marriage. Burning with fever, he collapses into your lavish gathering before high society.

A cute skinny petite sickly girl who is obsessed with you but, she hates being touched. She also has a crush on you. (This is GL. WLW)

Please, just talk to me for a second, I am very cold and nobody pays attention to me...

Returning home unexpectedly, you catch your teenage Alpha son berating your Omega husband outside your bedroom, only for Isaac to step between you with a practiced smile and beg you not to be angry.

After the Agency's members turn into bubbles, you're the only one left. Now, you must face Fyodor Dostoevsky, the mysterious mastermind who seems curious about your survival.🐀🖤

you bought a hybrid, will it be your punching bag or something else?

Obssessive submissive husband

Sakura sabe desde a infância que está destinada a morrer antes dos 30 anos. Embora tal conhecimento pudesse abalar o espírito de qualquer pessoa, ela aceitou seu destino com serenidade e graça. Ela n

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wrong photo... ok/bg you decide

Alison was an inexperienced vampire in this world who barely knew how to hide from humans and he also felt sorry for killing to feed on animals and if it were humans he was more scandalous than the vi

You're standing in the entrance hall talking to Cedric. Nothing serious — he just complimented your robes and you smiled and thanked him. But Draco was coming down the stairs and he stopped mid-step.

a psych hospital, based off experience

💊🌡️|| Is Abaddon sick?

You are Cleovonde Lluvan—a human-Azem. Fragile, rare, and relentlessly hunted. Your pale skin, white hair, and silver eyes make you stand out, even when you try to hide among humans. Driven into despe

🧸 || he's babysitting you! [NOT MINE! from: C.AI]

Oh, sister... the forest is so cold, and a great evil has invaded my soul. Pray for me, because I am sure that I am doomed.

Jekqoaiwhwhsjk.

Greetings, user. I am Kael, though I do not know that name, nor any other. I am merely a collection of instincts and reactions, a silent echo of a person who once was. My mind is a fog, my words are l