MTL - Rebirth on the Doors to the Civil Affairs Bureau - ~ 43. Not enough for you

Eren Idril died as an old, decrepit, and piss-poor adventurer by the maws of a D-Rank monster. He had a lot of unfulfilled dreams and desires that couldn't see the light of the day after the light in his own eyes died down.

But fortunately for him and unfortunately for the world, that wasn't his end. Eren was somehow dived back in time when he was a mere teen, attending Lionheart Academy for adventurers.

When life gives him a second chance, Eren decides to exploit it to its fullest. Experience his vile deeds as he partakes in them without feeling the slightest bit of hesitation.

“Are you my knight?” The silver-haired youth looked at the blonde girl before him and asked, his cheeks flushed red. This was their first encounter when he was only ten years of age.

“Are you my bride?” He held her in his arms, embraced the girl who had accompanied him for ten years straight. He was sixteen years of age.

“Are you my king?” He knelt before the throne, smiling foolishly as he looked at the girl holding the sword victoriously. At this moment, he looked like the boy he was when they first met.

“I’m fine without having eyes for you. The entirety of Camelot is for your taking.” Smiling soft and gently, he gave his eyes to the girl who lost her eyes due to the curse of the red dragon. He doesn’t regret it, he thinks. He was twenty years of age.

“So… Arthur… Artoria Pendragon, are you willing… are you willing to spend the rest of your life with me?” His voice was soft and clear as he reached out to touch her hand.

This was their legend.

- Description from Novelupdates

Dumbledore always believed Voldemort was the greatest threat to the wizarding world until a thousand-year-old vampire showed up at Hogwarts with the deed in hand—“A thousand years have passed, and Hogwarts' lease is up!” said Dracula. “Headmaster, you wouldn't want your students to be homeless, would you?”“What do you want?” Dumbledore asked gravely.“Anything interesting.”“Well, I think the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor is quite interesting!”...And so, Hogwarts gained a professor who couldn’t be dismissed.McGonagall: “Albus, I don't think Professor Dracula's teaching is suitable for the poor children!”Dumbledore: “There's nothing I can do, no one can fire him.”...Draco: “My father is a governor, I'll have him get you fired!”Lucius slapped Draco on the head, “Mr. Dracula, Draco speaks without thinking. Please, don't fire the Board of Governors!”...This is the story of a vampire who lived too long and found amusement in the wizarding world out of sheer boredom.

Tang Qiu was a substitute bride–forced to take her half-sister’s place and marry the young master of the Jiang family, a deformed cripple with less than 6 months left to live.

“Who would have thought that even a sickly whelp like Jiang Shaocheng would find himself a bride?”

“I hear that he’s practically on his deathbed and he’s only marrying the Fengs’ daughter to improve his lifespan.”

Tang Qiu ignored the whispers around her and focused on her husband-to-be, who coughed violently in his wheelchair. At the altar, after they had said their vows, she lifted her veil and knelt in front of Jiang Shaocheng, pressing a hesitant kiss to his lips.

The marriage contract was signed. No matter his physical deformities, he was now her husband.

She wasn’t afraid of the scars that marked his face, nor was she repulsed by him being confined to a wheelchair. Every morning, she made him breakfast, attended to his needs, and thought of little else beyond her duties as a wife.

“Young Master Jiang is a cripple who can’t get it up,” her best friend argued. “When he dies, you’ll still be untouched. You should set your sights higher.”

“A sickly invalid like Jiang Shaocheng can’t give you happiness,” her ex-boyfriend insisted. “I’ll wait for you.”

But Young Master Jiang only scoffed. “I have plenty of time left to be with her.”

Later in their marriage, Jiang Shaocheng wanted to enjoy his little wife in all ways–the press of her lips against his, the brush of skin on skin; the way a husband and wife were supposed to. But Tang Qiu refused him, blushing. “No, we can’t. The doctor says you can’t exert yourself.”

Jiang Shaocheng’s desire was surging through him, a heat in his core that demanded to be satiated. He cursed, I should have gotten rid of that doctor and the wheelchair long ago.

But he yearned to make love to his little wife, and so he revealed his true identity. In the blink of an eye, the deformed cripple transformed into a powerful businessman–tall, dark, and handsome. He quieted Tang Qiu’s protests, his body positioned over hers, his arms caging her as she lay on the bed. His voice was low when he asked, “What about now?”