#Dracula Ruler of the Night

[draculabridesdraculadaily]

Lucy and Mrs. Westerna

Belated mother's day pic and just a little something since were past the point (at the time of this writing) that Lucy is introduced into the story, so here's her and her mother (whom I dub Minerva in the AU version of Dracula I'm doing). Still human and taking a nice serene picture against their summer home landscape. Enjoy!

[dracularulerofthenight]

Cover Page (Clip Studio Paint Speed Video)

Speed video drawing of the earlier Dracula cover page I posted earlier. Enjoy!

[see-arcane]

The idea of one of the Weird Sisters being a romani girl or a slovak girl that was in the wrong place at the wrong time is horrible, and a great way to showcase the kind of power (both social, and supernatural) that Dracula forces upon the humans around him.

Wrong place, wrong time, wrong state of being, social, supernatural or otherwise. Dracula could have taken anyone from any station in Transylvania. Rich or poor, friend or foe. But I think none of the Weird Sisters were noblewomen while alive. They were, like Jonathan, sniffed out among the chattel. Dracula is their superior in every regard that way; and more, the servile classes do one thing better than any aristocrat.

It is their wont to make their ruler happy.

The eldest, a young fair girl, was a drop of sunshine and laughter in a threadbare village. Someone who uplifted and charmed whoever she crossed. Dracula, after some unknown breaking point in the mad red fog as he skulked up the mountains into his broken castle to wrestle with inhuman instincts and hold to something like a man's sanity, was alone. A monster made raw with slaughtering, with his people only fearing and fleeing around him. His halls are quiet. He crawls and lopes through them, snapping at himself, knowing he is reducing night by night into a Thing more than a man, let alone a conqueror.

So he goes hunting. He finds the fair girl who makes others happy and holds their hearts. He steals her. Wrings out months of playacting from her; in turn, he has reason to force himself into behaving like a man. The castle has no visitors in that era. When she cries and calls from her window, she hears only her own echoes as a pleading choir. And then it is back to making her monster happy. So happy that he loves her. She must stay.

The next girl was taken back when ties were first forged between the Count and the early generations of Slovaks he would come to entrust with his errands. There was trust on the human side too. Yes, he was a monster, but he was their monster. Their benefactor. He speaks to them like kin and pays a dragon's ransom for their work. They are allies! He calls them friends!

So it goes until his attention falls on one of the girls. A daughter. A sister. A new wife. She knows their Count, their kind monster. 'A friend of the family.' And perhaps she is not even afraid when he asks her, cordial as a lord, to aid him with something in the castle. A small matter, my dear, but something he would not trust the coarse handling of the men to do. She goes in. The door locks.

Does she go to that same room, that same window? Does she weep and call for her family? Does anyone try to come for her, to plead with their friend-master-owner, or to--ha--raise a weapon against him?

If so, it is a small matter. Quick. Bloody.

She charms him while alive. For she must. She thought, just as her new-ancient Sister thought, that she might find a way out. A chance to flee. But she makes him so happy. So happy that he loves her. She must stay.

And the Slovaks learn a lesson that is shared through centuries. They warn all those they work with in the future of the same. The locals, the nomads, the strangers. No women. No girls.

The third girl has no warning. She is Romani, but she has run from her people too. Or else she was trying to find them. Times have always been grim, but especially when the mania over witchcraft was at its height. She lost friends and family to...what? Sham trials and tortured deaths? A scattering to the winds as they fled the self-assigned hunters? Running further, higher, steeper. God's soldiers will not bother with their mission if it means galloping up the cliffs.

Up, up, up.

There are wolves. There is cold. She has no room in her to care.

And then, a fairy tale happening:

A man appears on the moonlit mountain. His eyes are fire. Are you lost, my dear?

She is. She thinks herself already dead or dreaming when he leads her into the castle. When there is food, warmth, and sympathy from this smiling noble perched in the crags of the Carpathians. And for one month, maybe two, even after she smells something worse than death on him, even after every liberty is plucked from her like petals from a rose, even after she has her first glimpse of her grinning Sisters, even after she sees strangers--Living people! Her own people among them! Look, look, I am trapped here! Please! Please, do not go, do not leave me with him...--she clings to charm. To smiles. She makes him happy.

So happy that he loves her. She must stay.

And now there is a young man. Such a winsome thing, young and strong. He makes their monster so happy.

His waiting Sisters think their monster may just love him.

And as they hear him shout from the hand-me-down window, they laugh along with the living in their coffins.

[ssleeping-in-a-coffin]

Dracula — Count, Prince, or Lord?

Although Dracula is referred to as "Count," this is far from the highest aristocratic title. In European hierarchy, the title of Count is a mid-level rank. Above it are the titles of Marquess and Duke, and even higher are the Prince and, of course, the King.

Interestingly, the title of Prince (or "Knyaz") in Eastern European contexts is closer to the rank of a Duke. In Western Europe, Princes could rule over small independent principalities, placing them above Counts and Marquesses. Thus, Prince Dracula might rank higher than a typical Count, especially considering his symbolic role as a ruler of darkness.

But why does Dracula have so many titles? The answer lies in the myths and legends: his titles reflect his power rather than just aristocratic rank.

"Count Dracula" is his aristocratic title, corresponding to the historical figure on whom the character is partially based (Vlad the Impaler, ruler of Wallachia). The title "Count" signifies his noble heritage, but it’s not the highest rank in reality.

"Prince of the Night" is a more symbolic title. Here, "Prince" represents a ruler of darkness and the vampire world. This makes it an intermediate status between a real aristocratic title and his mystical role, emphasizing his authority over nocturnal beings and forces.

"Lord of Darkness" is an even higher, almost divine status, surpassing ordinary aristocratic hierarchy. This title connects Dracula with the forces of evil and mystical entities, positioning him as a figure on the boundary between the mortal realm and the supernatural.

In essence, these titles showcase not only his real-world status but also the increasing level of his mystical power and influence.

If you want to draw a similar, "shaking" gif, this is the place to go!

[onestepbackwards]

Love That Bites Pt. 9

Hiiii! Welcome to part 9 of my Dracula x Reader fic! I hope you enjoy this chapter, though I apologize if it feels kinda wonky. I finally got a new pc built during writing, and a bunch of other stuff has happened. It was hard to piece it all together with so much happening in my life. I hope you all enjoy it though! Just in time for Nocturne to release :D Summary: After arriving in Dracula's castle, you can't help but feel you are in a dream, though you certainly wish it was to avoid the awkward air. Meanwhile, Dracula contemplates his next moves. After all, he's sure he's bound to be the center of the world's gossip mill when they find out he's caring for a Belmont.

CW: Anxiety, references to bad home life, injuries mentioned, blood drinking

Word Count: 4216 words! Like my work? Come check me out here: Link Likes and reblogs appreciated!

Tag List: @Onewiththebeanbag @starrlo0ver @sleepyendymion @dame-sunflowers @sapphicsfordracula @ursamajor17 @maorizon @marshmelloe Wanna be on the taglist, let me know in the comments!

First: Here Last: Here Next: Here! --

Sorting his affairs turned out to be a much more annoying endeavor than Dracula originally intended.

Despite this, he wasn’t all too surprised.

For the past few centuries, despite being the King of the Night, he has had very little presence in paranormal societies.

Every time he had been revived since this cursed cycle began, he had barely been alive long before a Belmont or some other hero would come and battle him to the death.

Even if for all intents and purposes he was the King of Vampires, he has had little or no time to rule.

He absentmindedly swirled his glass, before taking another sip.

There were two probable scenarios because of this.

Vampire covens and supernatural communities were in chaos.

Or-

They were in various communities across the globe, staking territory. He doubted any of them would be happy he was back to rule.

No one liked their own power to be threatened, after all.

Even when he was actively King, vampire covens and paranormal communities weren’t always happy to serve him. Many just did for his power, or the safety he offered.

Some felt the call of power from him and Castlevania itself. Others are uniquely tied to him and his castle. Those ones he hardly had to worry about.

No, he had a feeling his return wouldn’t be as happily accepted outside his usual circles. Most would probably only lend him an ear since he was Death’s master, and Chaos’ champion.

Did not mean they would be cooperative or happy.

He let out an agitated sigh. No doubt being killed over and over made him appear weak. Dracula suspected many would be aiming for his throat and his throne.

Nevermind the fact he was almost always slain just after being revived, before his powers ever had a chance to settle.

And he was sure many underestimated the power of the Belmonts. He may have always just woken up around each battle, but each Belmont still had power beyond belief.

“What a nuisance.” He muttered, downing more blood.

While normally he would handle this himself, he couldn’t afford to sit idly and wait for such pathetic attempts on his life and power from want-to-be rulers.

Dracula had a guest this time. He had you.

Back when his precious Lisa had still been alive, he had been alive for several centuries at that point. Almost every underling knew she was off limits, lest they desire something more painful than death itself.

Even those he knew wanted his head knew better than to go for his wife.

Lisa had been left alone by his servants and other creatures of the night. Ironic how it was the humans that took her from him.

The gall and irony humans had to call him and his own monsters after that. Bah.

The glass in his hand cracked, and he looked at it in annoyance.

Banishing it, another drink was brought to him as he continued to think.

Things were different this time. At least back then, no one dared to lay a finger on his wife. But now?

He had no doubts a target would be on both his head, and the Little Belmont’s.

Dracula was sure word was already spreading across the castle, and no doubt would soon do so to other communities nearby.

‘The Dracula? Taking in another human?’

He can already imagine the gossip.

The scowl on his face darkened.

It would only be a matter of time before word reached across the globe.

He knew you could take care of yourself, sure. You had told him several stories of hunts you had when he had been imprisoned, usually involving the death of a beast hunting innocents.

However, there was no way in hell you would survive in your current state. Whatever had happened, had intended to either permanently harm, or to kill you.

Dracula’s free hand gripped his throne tight, and he felt the arm of it splinter slightly.

How you received those injuries was a whole different issue that he would have to investigate later on. An issue he planned on thoroughly going over.

So for now, you were under his official protection while you healed.

Unless of course, you decided to go against your word. Though, Dracula heavily doubted you would do so.

You really were different then those who came before you.

This would not be easy, but when had it ever been? He was just thankful you knew how to defend yourself, and had the means to do so.

Once word got out, and you were healed, he also had suspicions you would be hunted. Either as a Belmont, Dracula’s human, or a ‘traitor’.

He may not have been privy to any sort of personal information regarding hunters and their circles, but he knew back a few centuries ago, helping out a ‘monster’ was a death sentence. It did not matter if they didn’t wish to harm humans, simply helping a beast was an act against god and humanity itself.

Hunters and the church considered such a person no better than the very beasts they hunted at that point.

Dracula doubted that sentiment was completely gone, even now in more modern times.

Reaching up, Dracula pinched the bridge of his nose in thought.

He had someone making potions for you at least. Hopefully you wouldn’t be badly injured for too long.

After that, he wondered if you would be opposed to staying here at his castle? You didn’t seem disgusted by it, nor did the castle seem to try and push you away like it did other intruders.

Those who were not welcome usually felt such pushes on their mind and body. Only the strong willed could push onwards past it.

Even his castle seemed to see you as a guest.

The castle bent to his will, sure, but it was still a being of Chaos. This small revelation also intrigued him, how such a being seemed not to mind your presence.

Perhaps it was that it also didn’t consider you a threat? It was obvious you currently had no intentions to fight him.

Dracula’s eyes narrowed, a presence pulling him out of his thoughts.

The room grew darker, and a familiar figure rose from the shadows. It flew around his throne, before giving a bow in front of him.

“Good to see you back, Master.”

Death.

Dracula looked over the divine being that had worked under him for centuries. His second in command, his devout lieutenant.

Dracula gave the being a brief nod of acknowledgment, and Death rose.

Even after all the deaths Dracula had endured, Death itself still remained loyal after all these years. He supposed he should count it as a blessing now.

“Report?” Dracula then idly asked, drinking from his glass.

“Things are running smoothly. Everyone is settling in quickly, as usual my lord.”

Dracula hummed.

“Good. Good.” He mumbled, mind still partially elsewhere.

A moment passed, and Death gripped his scythe.

“Master, if I may be so bold…”

Dracula held back a sigh, already having an inkling to what he was going to say.

“Do you think it is wise to have a hunter, let alone a Belmont residing in the castle?”

There it was. He knew his subordinates would be asking sooner or later. He wasn’t particularly surprised Death was the first to make an inquiry.

“They pose no threat. This Belmont is… different from the others. I would like to speak with them properly about our standing with one another as soon as they are recovered.”

He then looked Death in the face.

“They are not to be harmed while under my care. Do I make myself clear?”

Death studied him for a moment, probably wondering if he had a few screws loose, before nodding his head.

“As you wish, milord.”

Death was silent, and a beat passed. Dracula hoped his warning managed to sink into the other entity’s skull.

He was no stranger to the fact Death was his most avid supporter. Although Death had always followed his orders, the entity didn’t shy away from making its own decisions if he felt it was best for his master.

Staying within Dracula’s orders, but bending the rules just enough to do his own thing if he could get away with it.

Typically Dracula didn’t mind. Death was his most trusted lieutenant for a reason.

However, he couldn’t help but feel Death may try and get around this one rule if it felt it was best.

As much as he hated it, he would have to keep an eye on all his close subordinates.

Dracula tried not to focus on the growing migraine building in his head.

“Now, what of the vampire covens across the earth?”

Death gave him a subtle crooked grin, and Dracula had a sinking feeling he would need another drink before returning to see you.

—

Dracula’s castle was far more pleasant than you would like to admit.

Your brain was in and out of a fog, but even then you could appreciate just how nice the guest room and washroom alone were.

You almost felt like royalty with how classy and intricate the rooms were, and how they had convenient modern touches.

Never had you stayed somewhere so elaborate and fancy. All the hotels you have been in couldn’t even come close to compare.

Even now as you laid in the giant bed with its soft, velvet sheets, you couldn’t help but be amazed.

Kinda ironic, the home of your ‘enemy’ was way better than any place you had ever stayed at.

Besides maybe your own home before your step family took over, you supposed, though that was a long time ago.

Slowly rolling onto your back, you winced as your wounds flared and your stomach churned. You continued to admire your setting.

The bed had a beautiful silk canopy around it, and you still couldn’t help but be enamored by it.

Or by it all, really. Even if it was a bit overwhelming.

…Just how long has it been?

You had been in and out of sleep, occasionally slipping into a doze before startling awake. The time was lost to you.

In retrospect, you couldn’t help it. Your instincts were going haywire from… well, everything.

The bed and sheets were nice at least. Almost too nice.

You were used to your old sheets, or stiff bed sheets you’d find in cheap hotels.

Not soft satin sheets and pillows that were as fluffy as a cloud.

There was also the glaring fact you were in monster territory. Despite how nice the decor was, it was something on the back of your mind also keeping you up.

Yes, Dracula said you were a guest, but it was hard to lower your guard when you knew just outside the door were monsters roaming up and down the halls. That this whole castle was filled to the brim with the paranormal and monster kind.

You were also a hunter, and a notorious one from a notorious family at that.

It wasn’t hard to imagine some monsters may go ahead and take a shot at you, regardless of Dracula’s orders.

To some, it may be worth it to suffer Dracula’s wrath or ire if it meant eradicating you from existence. It wasn’t exactly a secret that a lot of the paranormal hated you.

You carefully laid on your side, and looked out the window.

A small comfort. Originally, the window had been covered by thick curtains. However, you had pulled them aside to attempt to relieve your anxiety.

The clouds were dark. You couldn’t tell if it was night or day at this point. Perhaps that was the point.

But you were so tired. Exhausted.

You really couldn’t even sleep if you wanted to, knowing Dracula, or at least a servant, would be bringing you a meal sometime soon.

The hunter in your soul didn’t wish to be taken off guard, even if it was to be fed.

A small part of you wondered if you should even eat. Your instincts whispered in your mind about poisons, warning you of incoming death.

But that was ridiculous. Imagine it, you, a hunter, dying from poison.

No, if Dracula wanted you dead, he would have killed you by now. By his own hand no less, you were sure.

Still, that didn’t stop your instincts from making things difficult.

You curled in on yourself a bit tighter, wincing when some of the stitches tugged. Reluctantly, you adjusted to keep them from stretching.

You reached over, and grabbed the nearby pillow, and hugged it close to your body for some comfort.

It smelled nice.

That was another issue. You were so sleep deprived and struggling with blood loss, your brain liked to bring up such things, no matter how much you were trying to shut them out.

Gripping the pillow tighter, you felt your face form into a sour look.

“What am I going to do…” You mumbled, closing your eyes again.

At least if you didn’t sleep, lying here would be some rest. Better than none.

Though you hated to admit how much you jumped when you heard a brief, but loud knocking against the door. Talk about acting like a cat in a room full of rocking chairs…

You sat up in bed with a wince, and you noticed that no one seemed to enter. Another knock followed the previous one. Your heart pounded in your chest.

“Uh… Come in…?” you called out, uncertain. Were they waiting to see if you were awake, or what?

The doorknob slowly turned, and you felt like the breath was punched out of you when Dracula stepped through.

Right. He had mentioned he would return.

He looked different though. Better, if you had to put a word to it. He wasn’t particularly disheveled to begin with, but now he didn’t look as… Hungry? Irritated? It was hard to figure out the words.

The Lord of the Night had also changed. Similar style, dark cloak and all, though he had on a vest with a dark red dress shirt underneath, and some sort of fancy slacks.

You imagined you probably would have wanted to change too if you had been wearing the same clothes as a stone statue for however many years.

But seeing Dracula again? You hated to admit how he practically took your breath away.

His power and presence were just as intimidating as before, and he wasn’t even angry. How did your ancestors handle him before, when he felt this powerful without seemingly intending to harm you?

Dracula looked you over briefly as he walked into the room, shutting the door behind him. Even if there were no traces of malice on his face, a shiver still ran down your spine, instincts still screaming to run or fight.

You swallowed your nerves down as he walked closer.

He stopped at the side of your bed, and once again, you had to crane your neck just to see him at his full height.

That is, until with the wave of his hand, a chair nearby in the room came scooting forward. It came to a stop behind him, and he sat down without a glance.

Internally, you hoped your awe wasn’t blatantly on your face.

When he sat, he crossed his legs, before holding a tray with some sort of bowl on it. He held it forward, and you blinked at it slowly.

“I hope you are resting well, Little Belmont. I had some servants make you some soup. I fear eating solids may upset your stomach, which would aggravate your injuries if you were to grow sick.” He spoke, his voice low and deep. Even if he wasn’t loud, his voice still seemed to vibrate in your chest.

It took his words a few moments to register, and you looked between him, and the tray. He took in your expression for a moment, before speaking once more.

“If you fear it has been tampered with, I assure you my servants-”

“Oh, no… It’s fine. Sorry, I’m…” You spoke, cutting him off, ignoring how your pulse spiked when you realized you did so.

“S-Sorry… My head is a bit foggy, is all…” You then explained, before shakily reaching for the tray.

Dracula was quick, or perhaps, your brain really was slow. He held out a hand, and quite gently might you add, set the tray down on your lap.

“Of course. You must not exert yourself, and you must eat. I do not know how long it has been since you last ate, but you need something in your stomach.”

As if hearing the conversation, your stomach loudly growled, and you felt your face flush in embarrassment. When was the last time you ate? This morning? Night before last? You couldn’t exactly remember…

It was brief, but you swore you could have seen Dracula’s lips twitch upward seeing you grow flustered. It must have been your foggy mind and imagination. Or not, he could be internally laughing at you. Who knows?

Meanwhile, Dracula knew he had been right to bring you soup. He just hoped you could hold it down.

Though he didn’t want to admit how… endearing it was seeing you grow flustered like that. For a Belmont, you were quite the adorable human.

He would never admit it of course, but hell save him if Death ever found out he had such thoughts. Dracula would never hear the end of it.

Especially considering such thoughts were about a Belmont. Someone he should be wasting no time slaying.

But he wouldn’t.

He couldn’t.

There was something so different about you, even now, as he watched you pick up the spoon and attempt to eat.

You didn’t stare at him with burning hate in your eyes, but curiosity. There was a sharp mind behind those eyes that asked questions. Someone who didn’t just jump to conclusions.

Was it so wrong he wanted to see more of that, especially in the family of his enemies, who had blindly ran and fought? Killing innocents of his kind?

He was no saint, far from it. But he knew of many others the Belmont clan had killed.

But you… You were so different. He didn’t wish to say it outloud, but he wished to push forward that way of thinking. Perhaps he could even find a middle ground with you.

You weren’t just some ‘scary hunter’. The Little Belmont in front of him showed so much more, showing the better qualities of humanity.

His face almost soured at the thought, but even he could admit every one in a million, perhaps one good human was born. You seemed to be that one in a million exception so far.

Just like Lisa had been.

He decided not to think too much on what that could mean, though he hoped it promised good things in the near future.

It was quiet for a while, and Dracula couldn’t help but study you as you ate. First and foremost, it was to watch and make sure your body could handle it.

But he had his own selfish reasons for doing so.

He could move again. React to you. Speak to you. Touch you.

However, he found it hard to speak. There were many things he wanted to talk about with you, and half of them he intended on waiting until you were a little bit healthier.

Anything he thought of before now though, was suddenly caught on his tongue as he observed.

Perhaps it would be better this way. Dracula prided himself on being charismatic and influential, but that was amongst the supernatural. This was a Belmont, and he knew things were… shaky at best.

However, as he watched you try and consume more of the soup, he found himself managing to say something.

“Are you feeling alright? Adjusting well?”

Briefly, you tensed when he spoke, before you seemed to force yourself to relax. He made a mental note of that reaction, wondering if it was because of him, or if it was a natural response.

Dracula could understand it if it was from him, given the circumstances, but even he could tell there was something off about it. He didn’t like the feeling settling in his gut over the bigger picture.

“It hurts a lot, but I’ll live.” You spoke, your voice still rough, but sounding leagues better than before. For a moment, it looked as if you wanted to say more, but held your tongue.

Interesting.

You were still for a moment, struggling to look at him. No doubt you were still having trouble thinking clearly, and struggling with everything that had happened. Have you even slept?

He had his doubts you’ve even rested. You may not look as manic like before, but you looked completely exhausted.

For a moment, he briefly thought about using his abilities to make you sleep. It was something Lisa would request on occasion if she hadn’t felt well or couldn’t settle.

However, he stomped that idea down. The last thing you needed was him using his powers like that on you, unless explicitly agreed upon. Even though you were… receptive of him taking care of you at the moment, he didn’t want to shatter that small bit of trust.

Given that he had suspicions about your home life, he imagined just the small bit of trust you had given him at all was momentous. Dracula couldn’t afford to lose that. Not now.

Though Dracula hated the odd pain in his chest as he stared at you. He was worried. Something he didn’t think he would ever feel again.

“Thank you, by the way.”

His eyes were on your face in an instant as you spoke.

“I… You didn’t have to take care of me. I do appreciate it.” You spoke, your eyes still on the bowl in your lap.

Your voice was small, and quiet. Dracula could tell though, saying that must have taken strength.

You didn’t see his eyes soften ever so slightly.

“You are welcome. As my guest, I will do my best to make sure you are taken care of.”

Internally you wanted to scream. You hated how much you liked the sound of that. When was the last time anyone cared enough to take care of you? Your mother before she had died all those years ago?

It had been way too long, and it was Dracula who was seemingly wanting to take care of you.

Damn your foggy mind.

A few moments of silence passed.

“I… Um…” You began, unsure on how to word this.

“About when you were a statue…”

You had so many questions, but didn’t know where to begin. Was it even a good idea to ask in the state you were in?

“You could hear and see everything, right?” you asked tentatively.

Dracula was silent for a moment, red eyes staring into you. It seemed he was contemplating what to say, and you tried not to get nervous as the seconds awkwardly ticked onward.

“Indeed I was. I was aware the moment you stepped foot in my castle the first time, though I was not aware it was a Belmont, not at first.”

His voice was still like velvet. No wonder vampires were such good hunters if they could talk like him.

You really needed to force yourself to sleep. Maybe if you smacked your head hard enough on the table, you could knock yourself out before you did or thought anything weirder.

Clenching your fist, you attempted to figure out what to say next.

“Um…”

Internally you cursed yourself for making this awkward. Why did you have to bring this up?

“Then… What now?” You asked, trying to find some semblance of what comes next. Just because he was taking care of you didn’t make everything all happy and cheery.

You couldn’t wash away centuries of history and bloodshed out of nowhere.

Dracula shifted, then reached over to the bedside table, and grabbed a glass of water. You looked at it confused.

When had he brought that in?

Before you could ask, he was gently holding it out to you.

“We can discuss that after you have rested. We have much to go over, but worrying about that and discussing it while you are injured won’t help your healing.”

He looked away a moment, as if contemplating what to say, before his eyes met your own once again.

“You have gained my interest and respect, enough to hear you out and discuss everything. When you are in a state to do so, of course.”

A part of you opened your mouth to speak, as if to say you could do it now, but you froze. Your eyes landed on the glass he still held out.

After a moment, you closed your mouth, and took the glass.

In that moment, you couldn’t help but feel like some sort of agreement or contract was formed, as if your fate was sealed.

As you sipped the refreshing water though, and looked over at Dracula himself, who seemed pleased you accepted the drink…

…You wondered if this would really be that bad?

Perhaps your future wouldn’t be as bleak as you thought.

[bluecatwriter]

So I watched a tv movie called Bram Stoker's Van Helsing (2021) that's only about the London Lucy segment of the story and… you know how no one (despite Van Helsing's fear) is seething with jealousy over Lucy? well, it's a love triangle now because they wanted to make it more interesting. Arthur and Jack keep headbutting for dominance and Arthur is so jealous that he's the one who throws the garlic away at night, for Jack to not be the one who becomes the hero in Lucy's eyes.

Putting this on the pile of Dracula stuff that includes Arthur, but completely changes him to "fix how boring he is"... (see also Anno Dracula (allies with Dracula, becomes a serial murderer all because the Newman loathed Arthur in the book), The Athena Club series (allies with a demon to become a fascist ruler), Dracula 2006 (huge rich jerk, invites Dracula to fix his syphilis), Dracula 2020 (loves to publicly humiliate Jack, horrible person)

Every day I learn about a new adaptation in which my boy is massacred... :'( Bless you for watching so I don't have to.

Turning the Suitor Squad into a love triangle (square?) is just lazy writing, period. Ohhh, multiple guys are interested in one girl and they're jealous and fight over her?? HOW ORIGINAL. *eye roll* It's such a cliché that there is NO excuse for using it, and triply so when the source material doesn't have it in the first place! Arthur throwing the garlic away because of some male ego thing makes me want to smash a chair through my dining room window.

It's honestly discouraging how little imagination adapters seem to have. All right, adapter guy, so you think Arthur Holmwood is boring... it's not a completely unreasonable statement. But look— look at the actual source material and see what's buried there! Just off the top of my head...

-Being someone who cries so openly and on so many different people is a huge character trait. Show how he's defying Victorian masculine norms by freely expressing emotion (or how he's conforming to the stereotype of Sighing Lover) and do something with that.

-What kind of person travels literally all the way around the world, having tons of wild and wacky adventures, and yet never tells any stories about it? What is his motivation for not trying to impress his girlfriend with tales of running from wolves or crashing a ship in Polynesia? What does this say about the way he experiences life?

-The story is ripe with little hints about how incredibly close he is to both Quincey and Jack. If adapters weren't so homophobic, they could explore all sorts of possibilities there.

-He likes dogs! That's a whole character trait!

-All right, adapter doesn't want to engage with any of that and is set on making him evil? Okay, then, make him evil in a way that fits the source material. Once again, making him jealous of other men or a philandering spoiled lordling are super-cliché. How about thinking about what could make him actually go off the rails? Is he haunted by how obedient he was in killing Lucy, even when he didn't know exactly what was going on? Does he carry a grudge against Van Helsing for making him into a killer? Do we take the text at face value that when he set his mind to it, he was ruthlessly effective in ending Lucy's undead life— does he get addicted to that feeling, does he get righteously caught up in vampire hunting (or just murder) because he can't bear the thought that he could've been wrong?

People making adaptations don't have to follow canon, of course, but it seems reasonable for the decisions to be rooted in canon, for readers/viewers to be able to draw a line from point A to point B. At the very least, there's no excuse to fall back on tiresome tropes.

Thanks for giving me the chance to rant about this. :D

[kaidabakugou]

𓆩♡𓆪 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄! 𝐁𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐆𝐎𝐔 𝐗 𝐕𝐀𝐌𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐄! 𝐅!𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT: 2.6K

𓆩♡𓆪 WARNINGS: BLOOD KINK / BITING / MENTIONS OF DEATH / CUNNILINGUS / BLOOD DRINKING / MARKING KINK / READER HAS RED EYES / FINGERING / FINGER SUCKING / MULTIPLE ORGASMS / TEASING / BEGGING / BLOODY VAGINAL SEX / SQUIRTING / NIPPLE PLAY / LMK IF I MISSED ANY <3

𓆩♡𓆪 AUTHOR'S NOTE: wanted to get one more monster fic out before i get into the full holiday spirit, hope you enjoy! <333

Nights like this still felt surreal to you. The sounds of the city echoing below you as they filled your ears mixed with the pretty view of the city lights never failed to make you smile in reminiscence. The cold breeze brushing over your skin as you peered over to the sky, leaning your head back against the balcony wall while you stared at the moon.

The gradient dark navy sky is so clear in contrast to the glowing yellow white surrounding you in an ethereal glow almost identical to that same night all those decades ago. The same night you met him.

Back when you were still a mere human, a famed hunter following her father’s footsteps after his death at the hands of Dracula, killing him in the process. Forced to carry on his legacy under the weight of the Helsing name as his only daughter when rumors of a new ruler taking Dracula’s throne arose after his death.

Arriving in Transylvania shortly after on behalf of the Vatican’s orders, in pursuit of the evil tormenting the villagers. It was expected of you to fill the void left by your father, being the skilled hunter that you were, having learned everything that you know directly from the source, positioned you at the highest rank among hunters. That's how you met the new prince, Bakugou Katsuki, a force of nature that many would say was more powerful and dangerous than Dracula himself.

Still remembering the first night you met him like it was yesterday, those glowing vermilion orbs invading your dreams the following nights after you managed to escape his castle. Almost like he was communicating with you through your sleep, calling to you. Eventually falling into this game of cat and mouse with every encounter you had with him, until you finally submitted to your growing desires, allowing him passage into your mind at night as he connected his thoughts with yours.

The sounds of keys against the front door capture your attention as you peer over to the entrance through the glass sliding doors of the balcony. Spotting the same glowing irises as he locks eyes with you whilst entering the penthouse, a grin immediately spreads across his face as he makes his way towards you. Gentle hands cradling your cheeks as he leans down to press his lips against yours before pulling back, pressing his forehead against your own as your arms wrap around his waist.

“What are you looking at?”, he asks while peering over to the city before his eyes return to yours.

“Nothing, just the moon is really pretty tonight”, you say as you twist your head to place a kiss on his palm while he leans his head back to look at the moon.

“Mm, not as pretty as you though”, he snickers as his hands run along the sides of your body before gripping the back of your thighs, hoisting you up as you wrap your legs around his waist while chuckling.

“You're the pretty one”

“Oh yeah? I wouldn't know since I apparently can't see my reflection”, to that you let out a laugh, still finding it amusing how bewildered he was when he sat down with you to watch the modern vampire movies humans have created countless of times, inspired by the old tales of Count Dracula that have been passed down millennia after millennia.

Some had accurate depictions of vampires, many had even mentioned your father which is how your interest in these movies began, but a few had questionable details regarding the attributes of a vampire. The ability to see our reflection in mirrors being one of them. Vampires were very much capable of seeing their reflection, especially in modern society where humans would make them from mostly aluminum, unlike back when Dracula still ruled, that mirrors were made from polished obsidian that could obstruct the image of a vampire but still be somewhat visible.

Which is why Bakugou found the allegations absurd that he hasn't been able to prevent himself from bringing it up every opportunity he gets. And don't even get him started on the movies where vampires could sparkle in the sunlight, or else you wouldn't hear the end of it.

“Oh, let it go”

“Nah, never forgiving humans for that one”, he grunts while carrying you towards the bedroom while you lean down to pull him into a kiss, still smiling at his small tantrum.

Placing you down on the bed as he nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck while you run your fingers through his blonde locks, reveling in each other, something you both enjoyed regularly since time was certainly not a problem for either of you.

“Mm, I'm hungry”, he says while trailing kisses along the side of your neck.

“You're always hungry”, you snorted back.

“What can I say… I can't get enough of you, baby”, he snickers while still placing kisses along your skin, his words making you let out a small laugh as you cradle his face in your hands to pull him towards you.

Pressing your lips against his as you devour each other in a fervent kiss, his tongue drags across your bottom lip, asking for entry inside your mouth as you give him access. Your tongues pressing against each other until you succumb to him, allowing his tongue to explore inside your wet mouth before you pull his bottom lip between your teeth, lightly cutting them with your fangs as the sweet taste of his royal blood hits your tongue.

“Go ahead”, you whisper against his lips, a smirk adorning your features as he matches yours.

Katsuki and you have always had this attraction towards one another, even back then when you would still be under orders to hunt him down and bring an end to his life for the sake of the people, he had always piqued your interest. Before him, vampires were just pests that did nothing but harm, just another evil in the world that you needed to get rid of like your father had taught you.

But Katsuki made you feel things no one else could, the thrill of the hunt growing with each encounter as you found yourself looking forward to meeting with the blood sucker each night that you went out in pursuit of him or members of his coven that could give you any information that could work at your advantage to take him down. The rush of adrenaline that you'd get when you would fight against him, always ending with either of you cutting the small rendezvous short before you could land a fatal hit on the other.

Eventually you started to notice the pull between the both of you with the way he’d whisper to you in your dreams, with how you couldn't bring yourself to pierce his heart after many attempts, or how anyone that would dare cause you harm, vampire or not, would turn up dead with their heads ripped out and the symbol of his coven carved into their foreheads. All leading up to the fateful night you'd manage to sneak into his castle when he was hosting a vampire ball, taking the distraction as an opportunity to finally put an end to your mission and return to your quiet life in the hopes of leaving the weight of the family name behind. But your plans didn't go as intended when you found yourself pressed against him in the balcony of his chambers, giving yourself to him as all your pride melted under the moonlight.

Katsuki continued to trail kisses down your neck as he removed both of your clothes in the process, settling in between your legs as he placed a kiss on your inner thigh before sinking his fangs into your tender skin, a soft grunt vibrating inside his chest as the sweet taste of your blood streams down his throat. The feeling of his fangs puncturing your skin making you close your eyes from the feeling of bliss coursing through your body.

Vampires feeding off of other vampires was considered a taboo by some but the both of you found it endearing, something intimate that makes the bonds between you two grow even stronger. Occasionally you’d pick up some human from a bar, taking advantage of their drunken state to use them as a blood bag when the two of you would be craving human blood. Sometimes you’d invite Katsuki’s right-hand man and best friend, since the redhead had harbored a soft spot for you after seeing how enamored his blood price was with you. But nothing compared to the feeling of feeding from each other.

Katsuki laps up the blood dripping from the punctures on your skin before he trails kisses down your thigh, caressing the other with his hand as he gets closer to your mound. Placing a quick kiss on your folds as he leans upwards towards your lower stomach, darting his tongue out to lick all the way up towards your belly button before licking back down the same path.

Sinking his fangs just above your cunt as he leans back to watch the blood drip down your smooth skin and through your folds. Watching as the red liquid mixes with your slick before diving in between your legs to drink up the mixture. Dragging his tongue with expertise and passion, licking all the right spots the only way he knew how to do.

Licking up towards your clit, scraping his fangs against the sensitive nub as he bites down around it, sucking on it whilst he drinks your blood while stimulating your swollen clit. The sensation of the added sting mixed with his tongue flicking against your skin, sending you over the edge as you release sinks into the sheets below you.

Removing his fangs from your skin as he leans back to admire the mess between your legs, resting his head on the side of your thigh while his eyes dart towards your hooded ones, noticing how your eyes are already glossy when he's barely touched you. Smiling to himself at how malleable you are when you're under him in contrast to that tough hunter he corrupted all those decades ago.

He sinks his fangs in the fat of your thigh again while he runs his fingers through your folds, collecting your slick on his digits as he lifts them up towards your mouth. Eagerly opening your mouth to him as you wrap your lips around his digits while he presses them down on your tongue. Sucking the mixture of your blood and juices from them as you moan around him, your eyes turning a deep shade of red that matched his vermilion ones at the savory taste of your blood seeping into your tastebuds.

Cleaning his digits before removing them with a wet pop as he lowers them down on your cunt again. Collecting the blood still dripping from the punctures as he inserts them into your warm pussy, your walls clenching around him as he starts to thrust his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. Curling them upwards as he massages the sweet spot inside of you, making your moans reach a soprano as you feel the knot inside your stomach burst as soon as it builds as you cum around his digits.

The wet squelch of your release mixed with the pool of blood making his cock twitch between his legs as his need to feel your warmth around him grows unbearable. Presenting his fingers to you as he sinks his fangs down on your skin again, this time holding the liquid in his mouth as he hovers above your cunt, letting the blood spurt out of his mouth and drip down onto your already soaked cunt whilst he stares into your crimson eyes, your mouth still wrapped around his digits as you moan at the sight of your blood pouring down on you.

Covering your sensitive skin with the red fluids, making you more slick for him as he leans up to position himself between your legs. Spitting the remaining blood into his hand as he gives his cock a few jerks before aligning himself with you, dragging his cock tantalizing slow between your folds whilst he tortures you with it. His pre cum mixing in with your blood and release while he continues to tease your entrance, the tip of his cock flicking against your clit making you jolt with each slow drag of his cock against your cunt.

“How bad do you want it, princess?”, he asks while leaning down to place a kiss against your chest.

“So bad, need you inside, please”, you plead while reaching down to press your palm against the top of his cock whilst it continues to slowly drag against you, the added pressure making you both hiss.

“You can beg better than that, come one try again” he teases while smirking down at you as a loud whine leaves your lips.

“Please, I need you to fuck me…”, you beg while still rubbing the top of his cock.

“... Please, my price”, and to that Katsuki loses his composure as a small smirk adorns your features, knowing exactly the words to use to have him in the palm of your hand.

Smirking back at you as he aligns himself with your entrance, pushing his cock inside your warmth as you both gasp from the pleasure. Burying himself all the way inside of you before he starts thrusting his hips back and forth in your dripping cunt. Leaning down to wrap his arms around you to give you access to his neck as you sink your fangs into his smooth skin. The taste of his royal blood pouring into your mouth causes your eyes to roll and shivers to erupt from your skin as you greedily gulp down the sweet red liquid to quench your thirst as he continues pummeling into you.

Both of you getting closer to your orgasm as he sinks his teeth down into your neck as well, feeding from each other while he picks up his pace. Your moans muffled by the skin of the other as the knot inside your stomach bursts again, your release soaking both of your thighs as you squirt around him.

Katsuki follows shortly afterwards as the clench of your walls around him mixed with the honeyed taste of your blood sends him over the edge. Hot spurts of cum plastering your insides as he fills you up with his release before it rings around the base of his cock and mixes in with your other fluids while he continues thrusting into you, not wanting to part for your warm body just yet as you both continue to drink from each other.

Dethatching your lips from his skin as you lean back to rest your head against the soft sheets below you while you catch your breath, Katsuki doing the same to continue to trail kisses along your neck and down your chest, pulling one of your nipples into his mouth as he bites down on the delicate skin.

Drinking the blood from your breast before he leans back up towards your face, pulling you into a kiss as he pours your blood from his mouth into yours, swallowing everything down before he pulls back to rest his forehead against yours.

Rubbing his fingers on your scalp behind your ear while you stay in each other's embrace, lovingly staring into the other's eyes as the glowing red from your eyes starts to diminish into a soft mahogany whilst looking back into his tame vermilion ones. Breathing each other in, under the moonlight seeping through the curtains just like all those decades ago as you both start to drift away into sleep.

[pricescigar]

Vampire!Price & Elvira Wolff Lore

Even though I've written Vampire!Price twice, I'm going to dump some new lore between Vampire!Price & Elvira Wolff

I have been brainstorming for a while because why not >:)

(And also because I've been too shy to share it lmao)

You could say I got heavily inspired by Bram Stoker's Dracula / Castlevania because it's my brainrot ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

ANYWAYS... LETS BEGIN

John Price lore

Captain John Price, also known as "Dracula." "Prince of Darkness." "King of the Night."

Before he became a Vampire was of course a famous captain in the British army in the Medieval era ranging from 500AD to 1500's. John was born at some point in the early 1060 A.D. exactly date, month, was deemed to been long forgotten. The older you get, of course you forget your age and the people around you who are long dead now.

In his human years standing proudly at 190.50 cm / 6ft3 , short brown hair that was always slicked back. His blue eyes shone in the sunlight. Chizzled mutton chops, always neatly shaved regardless of time and place.

At a young age he joined the army, leaving the life he knew behind. He became an excellent swordsman, leader & strategist. He was a young man after all, well built, strong like any man.

Knowing the basic means of survival thanks to all what his father taught him, his father's name forever unknown to everyone else but John.

He sought his enemies to be dead upon the battlefield, always the one to rush into Battle. With his great courage and bravery he quickly became captain, leading his men into Battle with no hesitation. Despite all of the Battles he had won, he wanted more. Of course, John was immensely recognised by his bravery, leadership. He wanted more; He wanted to be King.

At the time had a supposed lover by his side. Despite how forbidden it was for a Knight to have fallen in love with a Princess, he did fall in love with her. He wanted nothing more to take her hand, and make her his. Yet... she soon passed away due to a grave illness, which also made him angry and guilty.

Greed & Power could only get a man so far. With deadly consequences, he betrayed the King, the same one who knighted him all those years ago. Taking the Throne for himself, his other relatives had been slaughtered, taking no second chances. While he sat ever so proudly at the Thone, killing anyone who had defied, dared to betray him.

(That had also meant most of his soldiers for that matter)

To be the Kingdom's forever ruler, John sought out means to possess immortality. He heard of many rumours that of a "Crimson Stone." By any means necessary, the stone got into Price's possession thus he gained immortality. But at a cost.

He became a Vampire. His appearance changed as a whole, all forms of humanity, forms of emotions were gone.

His skin became paler, his ears almost pointed. Teeth sharp like canines, sharp nails that could easily cut you at the slightest touch; Standing now at a staggering height 213cm / 7ft.

With his powers he managed to revive his men forming an undead army, at the bend of his will. Raging War on anyone. With his now gift of immortality, he also gained knowledge of Necromancy & master of Sorcery. Although he gained the common abilities of a Vampire. Price was the most special one of all.

Under the restrained rule of John Price, a band of rebels formed a resistance. A band of powerful sorcerers. With Price's newfound powers, it raged a powerful battle. Almost defeating Price he transformed into a bat, escaping just in the nick of time before his ultimate demise.

One of the sorcerers that almost killed him was a member of the Wolff family. Escaping England for good, moving far away to another foreign land. Yet over time, Supernatural forces grew despite Price's dissappearence, Vampires spawning everywhere causing destruction everywhere.

Soon a Hunters Regieme was formed to tackle the supernatural creatures.

-

Elvira Wolff lore

The Wolff family became strong as the generations went by, one of the many few families built the Hunters Regime, and what it became of in this day and age.

Elvira's mother passed away during birth, so it's been herself and father that stuck through thick and thin. Along with Elvira's godfather, godmother and uncles in their family estate.

Elvira was trained from a young age to be a hunter like her family members, from the age of 5 her training begun. Her knowledge was built on by reading various books about the supernatural creatures; How to fight them, how to deal with them, what to do when you encounter one.

(The list goes on)

By the age of 10 Elvira already had basic knowledge of supernatural creatures, but that was a starting point of her career path.

As she grew older her father got attacked and seduced by a Vampire and eventually turned into one. Bit by bit, all forms of humanity dissapeared within him.

Elvira's godparents, and uncles died in the hands of her father as they tried protecting her but to no avail. Dietrich always had the upper hand.

Elvira became a captive in her own home, each night she heard the various screams of men, women, being dragged into the family estate so Dietrich could feed on his eternal hunger.

Elvira did all she could to save them but that would only result in punishment, when she turned 21 in 1476. She risked her life to do the inevitable. Eliminating her father.

She risk burning down her family estate, trapping her father in it. By the time she got out Elvira was gravelly inured, yet she survived.

The Hunters came and nursed her back to health, yet due to her father's betrayl she had to work hard to regain their trust once more.

Her mission was to kill the Vampire King, John Price. Elvira had everything she needed to make the mission successful.

Yet the moment Price set his eyes on Elvira, the young woman reminded him for his long lost princess... His lover.

[sillyvampireboi]

Blood Delivery

Warnings: blood, neck biting, soft dom, master/servant, blood drinking

Summary: Renfield messed up. He had one very important task and he failed. His Master needs blood but he fails to deliver it. What can he do to still be a good little familiar?

tags my beloveds: @giosnape | @unholy-gigi thank you for beta reading !

a/n:I think this is the most erotic(?) thing I’ve ever written, and the first of that sort. I’ve left the Master for interpretation, using they/them pronouns. So it can be a gender neutral reader or your oc of sorts, etc

Comments are really appreciated:) I just want him to be loved and taken care of. He deserves all the kindness TvT

This whole fic was written around the sketch I did ~

The Diamond of the Night Sky took Her place, 

Covering everything with cold, dreamy light, 

And gifting new shadows to the frightened ones. 

As She looked down upon her few hours kingdom, 

She saw one lonely soul, 

Sprinting in the snow,

He felt cold,

Deep in his bones,

His clothes clinging to body,

With the melting snow.

As Renfield was running,

Dark swallowing him,

He felt fire burning within.

Next to their Queen,

The Stars were blinking mercilessly,

As if judging him,

In his failed attempts.

Nonono! Please! 

I’ve already screw one thing up,

I can’t be late too!

I need more bugs, 

I need to be faster,

I have to be there! Please! 

Renfield’s racing thoughts were occupied,

With fear and worry to arrive,

In time. And how to explain,

Why he couldn’t bring,

Blood for his Ruler of everything.

He adored his new Master very much,

Making their every wish,

Spoken or thought, 

His very purpose to accomplish. 

They weren’t violent as Dracula was,

There was care in their movements towards him. 

That was the reason why, 

Panic pinched Renfield’s heart, 

Always doting and mild,

I can’t bear to see, 

The creeping disappointment in those eyes!

He entered into the house, 

As silently as he could,

But his Master was already awake,

Lighting candles in the dark,

“Good evening, Robert”

The smoothing voice called out,

Turning their face towards the servant. 

Robert ! 

This one word filled the familiars heart with so much warmth,

In those freezing lips,

That can ruin and bring death, 

That name held,

A certain tenderness. 

Calling him by his first name,

Filled his chest,

Planted the seed of pride and—

“Where have you been? 

Why are you soaking wet,

And I can sense no new smell.”

With that, 

Every previous fear re-entered Renfield’s head, 

He dropped to his knees,

In front of his Lord,

Trying to be as small as he could, 

“I’m so sorry Master—I c-couldn’t bring your meal,

They’ve been all locked up— you see there is this illness, a-and they’re all inside,

I have to be careful because you like it here—“

Renfield’s shaky voice filled the room,

As he was hushing out excuses,

Why he couldn’t fulfill,

His task approvingly. 

His Ruler of the Night was just standing there,

Listening,

And couldn’t help but feel adoration within,

I’m quite annoyed it’s true,

But it warms my still heart,

To see,

How much my needs matter to him.

The master was musing as he stood,

Looking down at his follower.

Renfield’s face shyly turned,

To seek any kind of reaction,

Big yellow eyes sank into dark ones,

Suffocating by the darkness within them, 

Silently pleading, pleading and pleading,

But without release.

Renfield messed up his task again, 

And his master wasn’t happy with that. 

Oh the terrible ordeal of being seen! 

How he wished the Earth to open up

And swallow him. 

Pathetic little creature,

His master thought,

While looking down at him amused,

How to hold the strength to berate,

And mark my punishments onto his head,

When he’s looking up at me so desperate? 

He is so so sickly sweet to care,

About my musings and beliefs. 

The master looked down at him again,

Bestowing a fang showing smirk upon him.

“That’s fine, 

You’ll bring someone next time,

But until then, 

I can drink from you instead.” 

Their voice was deep and honey sweet,

Unlike with Dracula,

Now he felt safe. 

In an instant, 

Robert’s whole posture changed,

Excitement running through his veins, 

“From me?! 

Am I really good enough for your taste? 

Oh Master, please take everything you need!”

With shaky hands he started to peel,

Off his scarf and shirts,

While blush was climbing up his neck and ears.

“You still haven't answered my question Robert.”

“Q-q-question?”

“Why’re your clothes so wet?”

They asked,

As they stepped to the fireplace,

And used a match,

So hotness roared towards the kneeling man,

“It snowed outside, 

And to not be late,

I ran through shortcuts in the woods.”

The Master sat down the armchair,

In front of the fire and gently said,

“Come here.”

He did as he was told,

Stopping in front of his Lord,

“Take off your clothes,

Then use that blanket there,

When you are done, 

Come back here.”

It didn’t take a minute for Renfield to get undressed, 

And to stand naked next to the fire again,

His beautiful from was then covered with a blanket,

His blue-again-eyes reflecting flames in them. 

The Master couldn't deny,

How pretty he looked waiting there,

White, pale skin getting colour,

Blue eyes sparkling with joy,

Dark, wet hair sticking to cheeks,

Letting watermarks to fall on perfect skin. 

With one strict motion the Ruler pulled him into their lap,

Petting his dark head,

“Now, Who told you that stupidity, 

That you aren’t good enough for me?” 

“I… Dracula always said—“

“Forget that terrible old man! 

Listen to me Robert,

You are the best familiar I could have,

So attentive, 

Always trying your best,

Execute every little wish I have.

Oh Robert~

Forget those words of poison,

You are the best boy in my opinion.” 

The last words were whispered into his ear,

While the Master slowly pulled away,

Dark locks to free his nape.

Shivers ran through his covered form,

While flower petals traveled up his breast,

Leaving his cheeks blossoming red.

Oh so slowly, lips ghosted over his neck, 

Never touching,

Yet leaving heat in their tracks,

Then leisurely the marble lips

Touched the sensitive skin of his,

Tongue marveld over delicate skin, 

Brush of fangs leaving butterflies in chest,

Breath breaking in that pretty neck.

“Have I ever told you dear, 

That the clavicle of yours is beautiful? “

Ocean eyes went wide in surprise,

Before he felt the bite.

Two sharp teeth broke the skin, 

Letting blood flowing,

Warm, red liquid streamed,

Colouring the canvas of porcelain skin,

Renfield sank deeper and deeper into that saccharine death,

Welcoming pain like a watchful friend. 

He was suffocating under the passion, 

That swam through his veins,

Creating weak moans,

Which from his lips escaped. 

“Master …. please..”

“Please what? 

I don’t understand what you want.”

At this point,

Whimpers were a constant thing,

Moaning more and more by the minute,

Which was music in his Master’s ears.

Such beautiful symphonies you create, 

Floating in this tormenting pleasure, 

And how adorable you look, 

With those red cheeks and heavy lids.

“ I n-eed— I ww-ant you to h-hold me please! 

Renfield got pulled more close,

Letting him to bury himself in dark clothes,

Lying his head on their shoulder,

Leaving whimpers and kisses on their neck.

His Ruler of everything kept kissing,

And leaving purple flowers of lust,

On the cervix of his.

The Master drank and sucked and drank,

Torturing his beloved,

However Robert felt safe,

Sinking deeper and deeper into that beautiful abyss.

Chest heaved,

Moans increased,

He was clutching to his Master firm,

“You’ve been so good Robert,

You can let go.”

And submerged in pleasure he did,

Feeling safe and screamed.

As his breathing slowed,

He felt sleep pulling him close,

And there he fall into the land of dreams,

In the arms of his Chief.

The Master hinted kisses on his drying hair,

Clasping him in a tight embrace.

As they remained by the heat of flames,

The Moon shone through huge windows,

And with Her Star they sang,

A lullaby of lovely dreams. 

[munsonology]

Dracula!eddie and vampiress!reader inspo!!!

You and Eddie got exposed to the public and now, as the rulers of the undead, you thrive in the attention, wanting to make this lifetime livable for the other creatures of the night

Picture found on Pinterest but I’ve seen this posted by so many users I have no idea who the original artist is 😭 I had to crop this one because it was somebody’s screenshot 😩

[beevean]

Translating Symphony of the Night's bios

Alucard (Adrian Fahrenheit Ţepeş)

Age: 400 (presumed)

A hybrid born from Count Dracula and a human mother. Despite his beautiful androgynous features and slender body, he is physically strong and can use dark magic.

His main weapon is a sword, and by using various magical devices and items, he can gain the ability to transform and magical attacks.

He is a taciturn and gloomy young man, but he has an intelligent and calm personality.

Maria Renard

Age: 17

A girl who is distantly related to the Belmont family of vampire hunters, and also Richter's sister-in-law.

She herself is a vampire hunter who defeated Count Dracula with Richter in battle five years ago.

An intelligent and active girl who has the amazing power to control animals. On her journey to find a missing Richter, she hears rumors of a resurrected Castlevania.

Richter Belmont

Age: 24

A descendant of the Belmont family, who have fought Count Dracula for generations as vampire hunters. In the battle five years ago, he defeated his nemesis, Count Dracula, but has been missing for a year. A hot-blooded man with a strong sense of justice, who fights with a whip that has been used for generations as a weapon against vampires by his ancestors.

Count Dracula (Dracula Vlad Ţepeş)

Age: 800 (presumed)

As the lord of Castlevania, he has terrorized many people. With his mighty power of darkness, he is the supreme ruler of the dark world and he is skilled in black magic.

He was revived for the third time in the 18th century, but he was supposedly destroyed, along with the castle, by the vampire hunter Richter Belmont...

He is also Alucard's father.

Master Librarian

The master of the Long Library. He serves Dracula and is acquainted with Alucard.

By talking to him, you can purchase items, sell gems, and obtain various information.

Death

The Grim Reaper, who works as Count Dracula's confidant. He is also acquainted with Alucard, and ends up taking his equipment near the entrance to the castle.

Shaft

A mysterious monk versed in various dark arts. Five years ago, he was the one who revived Dracula, but was defeated by Richter Belmond in that battle. … supposedly.

Lisa

The wife of Count Dracula, she had a son with him. That son is the main character of the story, Alucard.

The beautiful Lisa has already passed away, and her image lives on in Alucard's heart.

[zane-helps-otherkin]

Name suggestions with a macabre/gothic theme

Requested by: Anon

Adrienne: Meaning “the dark one”. Can also mean “the one from Hadria”

Umbra/Ombra: Latin name meaning “shade” or “darkness”

Arachne: Arachne was a weaver who was transformed into a spider after challenging the Goddess Athena

Hecate: A Greek goddess associated with witchcraft and the underworld

Kalma: As in the Finnish god of death and decay

Kali: The Hindu goddess of doomsday and death. Can also mean "black" or "dark"

Lilith: Meaning “night monster”. Lilith is a demon in Jewish mythology

Draven: Meaning “of the raven”. Can also mean "crow hunter"

Chaos (can also be spelled Kaos or Khaos): Total disorder, or the Greek idea of total emptiness

Crimson: The color of blood.

Blade: “Sword” or “wealthy glory”; also after the half-vampire main character in the movie “Blade”

Morticia: Meaning “death”, also a character in “The Addams Family”

Rogue: “Unpredictable” or “mischievous”. It can also mean "wanderer"

Onyx: “Claw” or “fingernail”, also a shiny black gem

Vladimir: This name is based on the ruler of Romania who inspired the Dracula story. In Slavic, it means “of great power.”

Thana: With Arabic roots, this name means “death”. Can also mean "praise"

Thanatos: In Greek mythology, Thanatos is a figure who represents death.

Nandor: Vampire character from FX's "What We Do in the Shadows". Originally meaning "brave"

Lucy: Character from Bram Stoker's "Dracula". Originally meaning "light"

Armand: Vampire character from "Interview with the Vampire". Originally meaning "soldier" or "warrior"

Some extra names that don't have a deep meaning:

Raven

Crow

Skull

Corvid

Grave

Midnight

Cal (short for calcium wich is found in bones, or "calavera" wich is a spanish word for skull)

Letal (spanish word for lethal, pronounced "let-all", you could also use Lethal)

[dracularulerofthenight]

"Dracula: Ruler of the Night - Admiring the View (Colored Version)"

And finally colored:

MARIA: Ugh, Winnoa c'mon already. The moon just hit it zenith and I don't wanna wait all night to feed.

WINNOA: Just a few more minutes. Gotta make sure I look lovely.

MARIA: For who, the air? Were unholy beings shunned by our reflections. What's to get lovely for?

URSA: Hey you'd be surprised how long it takes to make yourself presentably spooky for the master.

MARIA: Ugh.

[blood-official]

Some notes on my Lord Protector (who is literally just me but cool. Gonna use third person to refer to them though just to make it easy)

They were not raised in Macabria. After Project Twilight Sun was a success, Dracula had them sent to the "real world" in order to protect them from the monsters under the kingdom until they were old enough to face them. This was to the dismay of Victor, who was hoping to raise them as his own.

Side note about Macabria itself, I see it less as a real tangible country on the map, and more as a pocket dimension that Dracula discovered and founded as a safe haven for supernatural beings. Most of the time the only way to find it is to stumble across it, otherwise you have to be extremely gifted in magic to find it yourself. The "highway to the outside world" under construction is less of an actual highway and more of a simpler means of traveling to Macabria that will be open to anyone.

They were fairly normal before being brought to Macabria. No one would have been able to clock them as anything other than a regular human and they were raised by a normal family. When Dracula decided to peace out, Carmilla went to get them to bring them to Macabria.

Their vampiric half was "activated" when they got there. It was not a pleasant process.

They are not involved with Alexis (because in this version they didn't grow up together) but they are still friends.

They are getting the hang of being Lord Protector slowly but surely. They take their lessions from Carmilla very seriously and want to be the best ruler than can be for their people.

They still like to sneak off from now and then, wandering the streets, checking out the local music scene, and spending most weekends at their lodge in the mountains. They weren't raised for this life and it weighs heavy from time to time.

Some stuff about Rikke and Rollo specifically!

They both swear to god it was never supposed to happen

It all started one of the first nights Rikke went out to get away from the castle. They wanted something familiar so they hit up a local metal show

The band was actually really good, and damn their drummer is really hot. Local shows tend to be pretty intimate but they could swear he kept staring

After the show he introduced himself and invited them to the after party and they ended up slipping away together

The next day Carmilla tells them she's hired a mercenary to help bolster the wardens' ranks. She takes them to meet him and uh oh! It's the guy they fucked last night!

He is equally shocked his one night stand ended up being the Lord Protector and his new boss

Away from the others they have a chat and agree it was a one time thing and they should just keep it to themselves

Except they can't seem to keep away from each other and their little rendezvous in the night continue happening

Obviously it all has to happen on the dl, it would look really bad if the public or even the other wardens found out the LP was sleeping with a subordinate

Slowly but surely they each start developing deeper feelings until yay mutual love confessions!

Eventually only being able to see each other in secret starts to take a toll

Until Rikke has the brilliant idea of, hey if we got married, what would they even do about it?

So they go off and elope in the mountains with their only closest friends (obviously Ragnor and Runa knew about it the whole time)

And Rollo gets bumped up in the ranks from warden to Consort Protector (or Protector Consort. I'm still working on the name for the title I haven't decided which I like better)

:D

Finally, some visuals of my LP courtesy of Hero Forge!

An outfit for doing Lord Protector-y things out in the wild and a fancy outfit for doing Lord Protector-y things at the castle!

[nesrinslittleworld]

The Most Beautiful Thing In The World Is Love - Chapter 3.

Book: Dracula A Love Story

Pairing: Mehmed x MC

Characters: Şehzade Mehmed, Lale Hatun, Ambassador.

More than a week had passed since the departure of the imperial army from Edirne, and Alexandra,escorted by two sipahis, had soon followed after them, leaving Lale alone.

The young lady was now restless. Not only had the war taken all of her loved ones away from her, but it also left the palace under the supervision of her Uncle’s grand vizier, Candarli Halil Pasha, to whom the mysterious ambassador seemed to whisper his every wish.

While pondering upon all this, Lale shivered. Her grip on her silken emerald green shawl tightened as she walked down one of the many paths of the gardens, while her mind went back to the fateful letter that Nuray never got to send her.

Despite all logic, she had the intuition that all these unfortunate events and the arrival of the Ambassador were not a coincidence. And everything she had learned from her Uncle’s physician corroborated her theory; after all, even in the past many dreadful events unfolded upon his arrival: Mehmed’s fall, Şehzade Ahmed’s death, Hüma’s condition, the death of her second cousin, then Hüma’s; and lastly, her own mother.

According to Shirvani, demons were dancing and screaming in Hüma’s house on the night Mehmed was cured, and coincidentally, the Ambassador excused himself and did not attend any meeting with the Sultan.

If one thing was certain for Lale, it was that he was the one who summoned those dark forces. And he was the same man that had stalked Mehmed and herself while at the caravanserail, and the words he had spoken back then still echoed in Lale’s mind. He had threatened Mehmed’s position as future ruler by mentioning a potential brother.

Now he was taking advantage of the Sultan’s absence to pressure the inhabitants of the palace, and imposing his vision on the Grand Vizier. Alexandra had been discovered and threatened because of him; what would be next?

Dread filled her stomach as she stopped next to the wooden bench facing the small pound. The young lady had planned to work on the zaviye, but her gloomy thoughts had disheartened her.

She sat down silently and contemplated the gardens for a while, unable to shake off the feeling that something terrible was about to happen. These gardens had become her safe place, where she could hide away from the world and meditate on the serious topics that had been burdening her mind lately. But also, they reminded her of their own designer, of him.

The sound of hurried footsteps made Lale turn around, only to see the breathless messenger stopping a few steps away from the kiosk, and bowing deeply.

“Lale Hatun” he started as he tried to catch his breath. While he was doing so, the young woman noticed the golden tube he was holding firmly; it only meant one thing: this came from the battlefield, and it was sent by someone powerful, urgently.

Her blood ran cold.

“What is it?” she asked while trying to maintain some countenance. “What news of the battlefield?”

“The battle started during the night, my Lady” the man replied while keeping his gaze to the ground. “This letter was sent urgently to you as the first wave was ending.” He extended the golden tube to her, and bowed respectfully once she took it.

Lale could hear her heart pumping in her ears as she looked at the letter and barely heard herself thank the man, before focusing on the letter.

With trembling hands, she opened the tube and examined the seal on the letter before hastily breaking it as she recognised its sender.

There was no introduction, nor salutations, only fourteen lines were elegantly written.

Lale’s eyes widened as she recognised the style of Mehmed’s writing; similar to another one that she received not so long ago.

“O my love! Only if my heart��s pain made my tears spill over for you, would the secrets hidden in me be disclosed to you?

You are seated on the Throne of Beauty ;I am trampled on this road of Earth. O my Solomon! How can a mere ant explain its state to you?

O light of my dark room! Look at this candle weep, at your gathering, see how it goes mad to burn so fine for you.

O my love with the face of the bright moon! It is plain as day that in the anguish of love I am as true as the light of morning to you.

O my love! Somehow, yesterday you stayed the torments my rivals wreaked on me. Did my cries and wails, then, move you?

O dear friend! I cannot explain the wound of separation. So let my torn collar and wounded breast show you how my heart has been torn to pieces for you.

O my love! Don’t bring Avni’s heart and eyes to ruin with your torments. For the great sea of my eyes presents pearls to you, and from the blood-filled mine of my heart are drawn out ruby garnets for you.”

Lale’s fingers trembled as she held the thin paper, and a tear silently rolled down her cheek while she read the last line of the poem. She suddenly felt out of breath, and realised that she had forgotten to breathe altogether. Without taking her eyes off the paper, she sat down on the bench and tried to regain control over her racing heart. Luckily for her, the messenger never raised his eyes to her, and kept staring at the ground; unaware of her torment.

In his poem, he was speaking of her staying the torments his rivals wreaked on him; what rivals could he be talking about? Lale couldn’t recall when she displayed her attention to anyone else than him; or had her Uncle matured his own thoughts about her wedding?

Was this Mehmed’s answer for the talismanic shirt she secretly gave him? And if so, was he wearing it during the battle?

She couldn’t help but feel all of his anxiety, and then joy through his lines and now she could only pray to the Almighty that they would return soon to Edirne safe and sound. That he would come back to her unharmed. She cleared her throat and stood up before addressing herself to the messenger, still bowing behind her.

“What about my family? Are they safe?” The man could feel her piercing gaze on him as she spoke and tried to weigh his words carefully.

“Our Sultan led the battle wisely and remained out of harm; Şehzade Mehmed…” he paused, unsure of what to say. But that short pause filled Lale with dread and she urged him to speak, immediately.

“Our Şehzade fell into an ambush; luckily he wasn’t alone and fought alongside Aslan and the Prince Vlad to find his way back to the camp. Our Sultan was grateful for them keeping the Şehzade safe. And then his Highness went back to his tent, only to return with this very letter and commanded me to ride immediately to Edirne.”

The young lady nodded, thoughtful.

“You shall rest here for a bit and depart in a few hours. I will entrust you with a reply before your departure. You may take your leave now.” She returned her attention to the letter as the man retreated, and sat back on the bench, deep in thoughts.

She only returned to her room at sunset and crossed paths with Shahi Hatun who, filled with exhaustion, had come back from Mehmed’s wetnurse’s chambers. Not wishing to leave the sickened woman alone, and to relieve her own wetnurse, Lale offered to visit her for a moment.

But as she reached Daye Hatun’s chamber, she overheard a muffled conversation that sent shivers down her spine.

“Why am I here? I have business with your ward. It’s unfortunate that he left before my arrival… But I'll definitely wait for him.”

“No…”Lale whispered with dread without realising it, then stepped away from the door, but a moment too late, revealing the ominous form of the Ambassador.

“Lale Hatun… Good evening.”

---

Notes:

Poem from Fatih Sultan Mehmed, under the pen name of Avnî.

Here's an audio of said poem in Ottoman Turkish -> poem

[fangedprinx]

The more I think about the Dracula novel the closer I get to wanting to dismantle the story and put it back together again in a way that would kill Bram Stoker if he wasn't already dead

He's not getting any less dead though so my antagonistic approach to the text can't kill him

When I say antagonistic I mean:

A story inspired by thoughts of how the Queen should get snacked on by Dracula along with the British aristocracy, actually, because for all the xenophobic imperialist mental backdrop of a book where the enemy is a spooky foreign dude, the British empire was bloodier than one single vampire in a silly little castle (even if we focus just on the imperial core, there's plenty to zoom in on with the British industrial revolution, e.g. "the machinery of capitalism being oiled with the blood of the workers", the poverty and deprivation of the working class, everyday exploitation with the added bonus of young men being asked to go off and die in wars because people in silly hats are having a pissing contest). Once Dracula is finished using them as a juicebox he should get beheaded in a worker's revolt because he would underestimate the courage and resiliency of the lower classes and expect to just rule over them. And he doesn't have an iota of awareness of how to manipulate the levers of power in a complicated post-feudal social system he ate most of the rulers of. (For context, I am Irish and a socialist and I will go toe to toe with the fear-laden mental landscape of one of the most famous Dubliners to ever write a novel where British aristocrats are some of the good guys.)

Dracula creeping on Jonathan Harker is spooky in the novel but I also don't respect Stoker's intent there. The overtones of unsavoury interest as supposed to imply some sort of homosexual proclivities was then part of the horror especially for audiences of the time, and I don't want to unquestioningly reproduce this dynamic because sincerely fuck that. The fact that Dracula is queer-coded as a villain as part of what makes him villainous is not something I care to take at face value and reproduce. Potentially writing Dracula/Jonathan Harker where Dracula isn't a manipulative creep engaging in subtle psychological abuse and torture of Jonathan is completely contrary to canon characterisation but there's been a long line of Dracula adaptations with a tenuous relationship to canon and I want to break free of the confines of the text and upend its assumptions. I want an aggressive reading/transformative work that disregards the author's intent to create something different from it, and maybe if I have time I will do it myself. Move over fear of the other we have fear of the self (as being attracted to the same gender) to tangle with and then overcome.

The least antagonistic to the text would be fun little bad ends where the failure of the heroes' mission is part of the enjoyment. I'm gonna write a bit of spooky sexy turning characters into evil vampires who are gleeful about being horrors of the night, as a treat.

I enjoy(ed) reading Dracula but I also want to explode it into its constituent atoms and reassemble them in a configuration that suits me more