#Dracula fan fiction

[lauralot89]

Quincey Morris is Voting

And So Can You

Author's Note: Before the 2020 election, I wrote the Captain America voting PSA. This is its spiritual successor.

“My dear American friend Quincey Morris.” Dracula leaned in the doorway, smiling so widely that it seemed to split his face in two. “How wonderful to see you on this fine morning in this, the year of your Lord 2024.”

“It’s three in the morning.” Quincey rubbed at his eyes. “You’re lucky I didn’t open fire, the way you were leaning on the doorbell. What in the hell do you want?”

Dracula’s smile twisted into an equally exaggerated scowl. “I thought Southerners were famed for their hospitality.”

“I’m so sorry.” Jonathan could scarcely bring himself to meet Quincey’s eyes. “He demanded I drive him over at once, and when I refused, he started banging pots together.”

“Lord almighty.” Quincey did not move to let either of them in. “Are you four hundred years old or four, Fangs?”

“It has come to my attention,” said Dracula, his tone fractionally colder, “that your US of A is to have an election on the fifth of November. Is this accurate?”

Quincey turned his full attention to Jonathan in lieu of answering. “Couldn’t he have googled this?”

“He wants to make sure you’re voting.”

“What? Why?”

“My good friend Jonathan Harker has a most annoying habit of watching the news,” Dracula cut in. His eyes tracked over Quincey’s body, still filling the doorway, as if calculating some way to dart around him and into the apartment. “He says he wants to be informed of world events, as if such things matter more than enjoying my company.” Here he paused, scoffing, apparently awaiting Quincey’s commiseration. When it did not come, Dracula sighed. “As of late, these programs speak much of this election. I want that discoloured man to lose. He is far too smug.”

“Too smug?” Quincey echoed.

Dracula, it seemed, did not hear his sarcasm. “Only I am allowed to be so self-assured, as I am actually superior. As such, you must vote.”

“You know I’m from Texas, right? I reckon it ain’t turning blue anytime soon, gerrymandered as it is.”

“I have no interest in colours or salamanders. Every vote counts.” Here, Dracula slapped Jonathan’s shoulder, startling the solicitor out of his standing doze. “My friend, tell him of the requirements.”

With a sigh, Jonathan began to read from his phone. “The deadline to register to vote in Texas is October seventh. If you aren’t sure of your registration status, you can go to Vote.org to check.”

“If you are not registered,” Dracula cut in, “then your Texas has no online registration, and you have missed the deadlines in person and by mail. In that unfortunate circumstance, Jonathan will have to hack into the United States and add your registration.”

“That isn’t how anything works,” Jonathan protested.

“I will not take excuses,” Dracula said. “With the world wide web, anything is possible. Especially since I am rich. Now continue, my friend.”

Jonathan rubbed his free hand at his forehead. “Since you won’t be in the country on Election Day, you qualify for an absentee ballot. USA.gov has information about absentee ballots and how to receive them.”

“If you were in the United States but working on Election Day,” Dracula added, “USA.gov lists if early voting is an option in your state, and tells where you can go to find early voting locations in your area.”

“Fascinating.” Quincey rubbed his eyes again. “I already filled out my ballot and mailed it in. Can I go back to bed now? I have guests. If they aren’t still scared shitless from you pushing on the doorbell in the middle of the night, they’re probably drifting off and I don’t want to wake them again when I get back in the bed.”

“May we join?” Dracula asked.

“No,” Quincey said.

“Why not?”

“Because I hate you,” Quincey said. “My condolences on your life with this jackass in it, Harker.”

With that he closed the door and went back to his bed where Arthur, Lucy, and Jack waited, content in the knowledge that he’d both done his part against fascism and also annoyed a vampire. It almost made up for being rudely awakened at three in the morning.

“I dislike that man,” Dracula said, staring at the closed door. “When we speak next, I’m going to say something unpleasant about the Alamo. Texans still cry about that, don’t they?”

“I’m going home.” Jonathan turned, starting off down the apartment complex’s hallway. “And Mina and I have decided that you’re spending the rest of the week sleeping on the couch.”

“The world is so cruel,” Dracula muttered, following after him.

------------------------

Voter Identification Laws by State

How to Update or Change Your Voter Registration

Register and Vote in Your State

Voter Registration Deadlines

Absentee Voting and Voting by Mail

Confirm Voter Registration Status

The Poll Worker Says My Name is Not on the List of Registered Voters

[anyataylorjoys]

VAN HELSING —2004, written by Stephen Sommers

[victusinveritas]

I know this has been passed around before, but here it is again. It's worth a read, too.

[dragongirlpoet]

Dark Signs

Part II

<Read Part I here>

Alucard x female reader

Synopsis: You asked Alucard for a favour. Now you have to be careful what you wished for. (3.5k words) "To be born a dhampir is to be born a monster" - Vampire Hunter D

TW: Dark fantasy, horror & gore elements, blood, SMUT (Alucard is feral in this one) Explicit 🔞

Here's hoping you'll enjoy this too! Sorry it took longer than expected, I was unwell and didn't want to put out a story I wasn't proud of. Thank you for reading!

Also to @skychaser777 hope you can sleep after this 😉

The hollow stone walls echoed my shaky breaths, caving them in, the thumping of my heart violent in my ears. My skin was pricked with goosebumps, foreboding dire dwellings. 

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Absurd question, considering everything was inherently far from right. 

There had only been one instance where I felt unsafe with Adrian. 

Located in the underbelly of Wallachia was a forgotten catacomb, a labyrinth where the dead and undead alike convened. I had been extracting bile from slaughtered night creatures, told to render powerful salves when mixed with mint, myrrh and…other herbs. 

Body sticky with sweat and hands grimy from reaching into revolting guts, I was almost to my fifth vial when a guttural growl stopped me dead in my tracks. 

From the marrows of a tunnel, a numbing cold, laced with strangled gnawing, reverberated through the passageways.

Every fibre of my being told me to run, alas I had all but the impudence of a child. Unsheathing my iron dagger, ensorcelled to wound even the most vile, I treaded warily towards my impending doom.  

The sight that awaited me was sickening. Crouched over bodies upon bodies of night creatures was a pallid, mangled man? His face was buried in their carcasses, marring at their flesh, lapping at their blood. 

Before I could take another breath, the man turned, face smeared with ravaged viscera and foul, curdled blood. He had hair like the purest wisps of wheat and eyes like dark, desecrated graves. 

I choked back a gasp.

“You foolish, foolish girl. You are not prepared for the evil that lurks here, feeds here..” his bellow was deafening, diabolical. Blood spilled from his fangs, splaying his torso tainted with innards and rotten flesh.

“Wh..who are…you?” I paced backwards as he stalked towards me.

“You don’t know who I am? Most fascinating…” he offered a smile so sinister, as if he had stumbled upon the most naive of fools he was soon to devour.

“I am the sun…rain…the darkness. I am sin made flesh and I am whom you should most fear. I am Alucard, son of Vlad Dracula Tepes.”

A loud “smash” rattled through the room as I retreated into our wooden dresser, knocking over a prized hourglass Alucard so often used to practise his script. The pair of glowering molten eyes trailed me — never blinking, burning caverns into my soul. 

I shifted my gaze downwards to avoid stepping into glass, but that was regrettably the least of my worries. Lifting my stare, those eyes were gone — quick as spectres passing through dimensions. 

Our chamber fell into a boundless black, and my human sight could not adjust acutely enough to the darkness. I flailed my arms about willing to grasp onto anything that could give me some bearing. Anxiety crept through me like poison ivy ensnaring a forsaken home. 

“Adrian? Stop this please! This isn’t funny.” The volatile rhythm of my heart suddenly became too loud, too unbearable. 

No amount of breaths could repress my violent trembling. A faint flicker from the corner caught my eye — Alucard’s heirloom sword. If his magical estoc was there…he is still in the room with me. 

The hairs on my arms shot up, little by little.

Out of nowhere, forceful, ice cold hands prised around my throat, yanking me out of my state of terror. From behind, Alucard, voice grave like a thousand infernal souls, growled into my ear, 

“Do you understand the gravity of what you’re asking?”

Whether it was fear or the vice-like grip around my neck, I couldn’t speak.

“Answer me.” 

He clamped tighter.

”Ye…yesss,” I wasn’t telling a lie. 

“Then let’s finish what we started, shall we?”

One minute I was in Alucard’s death grip, the next I was shoved, hard, into the stone wall, my face chafing against the abrasive mortar. I winced at the pain.

“You’re hurting me, Adrian!” 

Behind, he tightened his grip on my wrists, binding them into the small of my back. 

“Am I? Ohh…but you like danger, don’t you?...His other hand reached down to unfasten his pants, his erect cock sliding out… “You are drawn to the darkness, just as I am.” 

He trailed the words up and down my neck, pausing ever so subtly to savour the scent of blood in my veins. 

A small bead of sweat started trickling down my face…no, no, it was blood — from my collision with the wall.

Alucard went eerily still again. I felt a shift in his countenance, like a malevolent cloud obliterating sunshine. 

He was hungry.

With one knee, he forced my legs apart and hauled my nightdress up, my backside fully exposed. I could feel the tip of his length against my rear — throbbing, impatient. He snaked his hands all over my naked body, grabbing at my breasts, digging into my thighs. 

The scent of my blood set his every carnal need aflame. 

Adrian had always been prudent — he would excuse himself at the slightest scent of my exposed blood, isolating himself in the castle dungeons for hours, as if he deserved it. Deserved to be punished for his beastly urges, deserved to be condemned for being born a monster. 

Every blood-month I had would send him away for days — “I don’t want to hurt you. You’ve seen what I become when I feed… I’ll just be hunting, it’d be just a few days, and your cycle would end when I’m back,” he would say with a smile. A sad smile.

And I was utterly tired and heartbroken that my Adrian, so kind and full of love, would admonish himself, rip his spirit to shreds, for a fate that had been unfairly handed to him. I was going to end this, tonight.

Alucard nuzzled his face into my hair, taking in all my smells, heaving. His body was unyielding against mine — elegant marble against bewitching velvet. I could hear his vampiric heartbeat ringing in his ears, drowning out all sense of reason. He was an animal in heat. 

“You know I cannot control myself around you. And you know what your blood does to me… Do you know how long I haven’t fed?” 

His writhing cock was brandishing my cunt, starving for my hole.

“Do you know I think about what it’s like to have your blood in my veins? How much I want it, need it, desire it. 

How much I want my blood in you. And you ask this of me, tonight, when I’m sitting at the precipice of hunger and lust…”

There was a sharp intake of breath. 

“Hmmm you don’t know what’s coming for you. Once I do this there’s no turning back. 

Do you know how long I’ve been holding out for you? To be better for you. And now you ask this of me…”

At that he yanked at my hair, forcing my head to fall back. The red trace on my cheeks bowed complete to his mercy. 

Staring defiantly into his eyes, I said, “Do it, Adrian. I want you to.” 

Danger, danger.

A devious smile tugged at his lips. Alucard skimmed my neck with his mouth, bruising it with reckless kisses and parlous nips. He moved precariously to suck at the aquamarine veins running down my breasts, licking slow circles about my nipples. He was a wolf dallying with his food. 

A true vampire, hedonistic even in the slightest of pursuits, moving inevitably to the blood trail. He had waited so long for this. 

Alucard pushed his lips delicately into my face, afraid of spilling even the smallest of drops. My blood was a sacred river, a bath of worship he would praise forever. Shaking, he ravened the scarlet off my face, sucking at the open cut, willing for more. 

He was a mixture of muffled moans and enthralled ecstacy.

It was exhaultant. I adored being able to give Adrian what he most craved. 

Drinking in more than necessary, the whites of his eyes were no longer — entire sockets now overtaken with crepuscular crypts darker than the blood moon that hung outside.

Alucard’s cock twitched beneath me, length growing harder and bigger by the second. Grunting, he pumped his sex and slid it against my pussy. I was light-headed with anticipation, but he had merely fondled my folds, prodding at my entrance, testing to see how wet I was.

Perhaps he had been right. Perhaps a dissolute part of me yearned for the darkness, but what I’d wanted most of all was to know that I had years, centuries — immortality, to be with Adrian. 

Head over my shoulder with eyes like lacquered obsidians, he interlaced his fingers with mine, bringing them down to press at my clit. Flagging off from my most sensitive spot, he traced them up my body, slowly, torturously. 

“I wonder…” fingers caressing my abdomen… “how far up…” I gasped as he adjusted them higher… “my cock will go when I’m deep inside you…” Alas settling on a spot above my navel.

A sacred river spawned between my legs. 

Incapable of restraint any longer, I reached back to stroke his shaft, thumb stimulating his tip until his pre-load creamed my fingers. I lathered his fluids, relishing in the feel of his hallowed flesh tethered to my hands. 

“Fuuuck.” Alucard bristled against my touch, face buried in my neck. Below, he was thrusting at my entrance, not yet entering, readying me for his carnal devotion. 

”Adrian please, I need you. I want you inside…”  

His last thread of resolve snapped. He rammed his boner into me from behind, stretching me, engulfing me. My tender walls were a haven to his brutal thrusts, welcoming him in. Cock barely to his hilt, he spread my bottocks apart, plunging his engorged member in. 

“Ahh…ahh…” I whimpered, hands braced on the wall. 

“How are you still so tight…” he hissed, enraged he couldn’t yet feel all of me.

My fingers weaved into his hair, tugging as I leaned further back into him. This feral urge, I craved it. It was scarce enough to satiate the searing lust in me, so I ground impiously against his length like the unholy girl he wanted me to be. 

Tonight, he was to have his way. He was the nefarious overlord and I was but a malleable zealot. My hips were firmly held down by his hands — he wanted to control my rhythm. I was, afterall, his submissive little prey. 

Alucard forced his cum-stained fingers into my mouth, swirling them about the insides of my cheeks, wresting in and out of my plush lips. I licked at them greedily, suckling on his taste. He was so deft — hands and length penetrating me in a lyrical sync, sating me above and below.

I gagged when he stuck his fingers further down, my throat wedging tight. Tears rimmed my eyes but I continued hollowing my cheeks, head bobbing. “Such a good girl…” praising as he brushed hair off my face. I was to appear immaculate while being fucked indecent.

Hypnotised by his bulge assaulting my hole, I bit sinfully on his index, tearing his skin. He pulled out from my mouth, eyes transfixed on the blot of blood. 

“You’re being a naughty little lamb tonight…” His smile was insidious, like a serpent suffocating its meal.

My vampire smothered his blood over my parted lips. My tongue grazed over it, wiping it clean like I was the one writhing in blood lust. What I did had Alucard under a powerful spell. He plummeted his smug into me, our kisses heedless, crashing into each other in depraved lust. 

We sucked and bit them swollen, both of us unrestrained and shameless of our monstrous love. Under, he continued hammering his heat into me, hand pushing my cunt back to swallow more of him.

Alucard was never one to trifle with a perfect opportunity. Hands at his favourite spot, he rubbed his digits forcefully at all the places his cock didn’t already fill. My knees buckled at once from overstimulation. 

“Stay.” He landed a firm smack onto my soaking sex… “Still.”

“Or I won’t let you cum.” An order.

He bent me over, my backside raised to allow him easy entry. I compelled my wobbly legs to stand, muscles quivering at my bones.

“Good. Hands on the wall.” 

Like his obedient little lamb, I hoisted my arms on the cold stone, squeezing taut around my feral wolf.

I was begging, moaning his name, my being in complete disarray.

Content with how tight I was clenching around his shaft, Alucard drove his erection mercilessly into me, pounding so hard I was lifted off the ground. 

I cried out in pleasure and pain. “Adrian! Adrian please…”

“You like it when I’m rough with you, baby? You want me to turn you, and fucking you senseless comes with it,” he spat in between thrusts, dragging hair away from my ears to ascertain I could hear him loud and clear. 

I was so deliciously filled my lewdness spilled out onto my legs. Paths of sweet nectar trickled down my trembling thighs, glazing his girth with my wicked desire. 

I was so close.

Smelling my arousal and imminent climax, Alucard slammed faster into me, his own pace losing cadence. 

We were so close. 

He had everything timed perfectly. Just as he had countless times before — night creatures and wild animals — all unsuspecting pawns to his blood thirst. He was adept at hiding his deplorable little secret, but I knew better. 

Fangs fully exposed, he grazed them masterfully over my neck, humming at my veins and arteries. Quite like a skilled chef discerning food, he was choosing which would taste most exquisite. My scarlet vessels were pulsing in tempo with my heartbeat — palpitating, quivering, waiting.

“Are you frightened? I can feel your terror in my bones…” villainy laced his snarl like a wolf finally rid of sheep’s clothing. 

I had to inhale gulps of air to articulate my words, “No….” But what I said or what I thought mattered no longer. Gone was Adrian — human, moral, benign. A bestial, debased monster, instead, all consumed him. 

Soulless eyes searched me once more, as if to forewarn me about my perilous decision, as if the human in him was straining to break free of his chains to stop this atrocity.

There was no turning back now.

I offered my neck to him, reckless, bloodstreams on full display. At last, with Alucard’s throbbing cock still stuffed full inside, I felt the firestorm in my core and the crushing torrent soon overcame me. 

My release tonight felt different — cathartic. I was once again the delicate driftwood being dragged underwater — careless, aimless, going where the current took me. My limbs fell limp at my sides, my spirit devoid of vigour. And I knew why. 

Alucard’s fangs were buried in my neck, drinking my blood as if a divine offering. When did he bite me? I felt no pain, only a rapture so heavenly I ached for more. 

And so drink he did. Rivers of blood coated his lips, crimson tributaries surging down his throat. He sucked and lapped at my vital spark, clawing at my body so arduously as if I was the most cherished jewel of immeasurable value. 

Like a vampire deprived of debauchery, he drank me in like sweet sin. He had no beginning and no end. And rightfully so. I was profoundly proud of my Adrian. At long last, he no longer had to be ashamed of who he was. He was liberated. He was free. 

My racing heart was now a supine hum. I lay naked — pliant and frozen in his arms. The sleepy swell of the ocean lulled me into the black nothingness. I was rising and falling, so in harmony with the current.

Above, hazy sunbeams fractioned the waves like sparkling diamond necklaces. Beneath, the sombre abyss tugged at my essence, diffusing all manner of light. The ominous depth, though a macabre embrace, was one so full of promise. It was beckoning to me, calling my name — stay, stay, stay…

—

I awoke to a pall of infinite blackness. 

I had been dreaming. There were shadows — silhouettes, of people I couldn’t quite make out. They were whispering, a sonnet of hurried voices, as if going somewhere, but nowhere at the same time. Then there was a lambent flame — the colour of pale amber, always in the distance but never near. Always tailing, always watching…

Where was I? 

I could see nothing, hear nothing. I shifted slightly, and my shoulders were met by cool textile — silk? As more of my senses reconciled, I felt the mattress below me, a satiny divan not reminiscent of my bed. Muted was the air, hollow was the roof, and

…algid was my skin. 

I was in a coffin.  

Panic coiled through the ridges of my ribs, puncturing my heart like lethal thorns. I clawed and pounded at the wood…was I buried alive?

Alas, like the caves of hell being vaquished by divine light, the casket slid open, and I clambered onto a sprawling granite floor. I was heaving, frantic to take in air, clamouring at my chest as if ghostly hands were crushing my heart, splintering my valves. 

Where was Adrian?

A succession of torches adorned the upper vaults, the mellow ebb of light suddenly becoming glaring to my eyes, as if I had been staring directly at the sun. I could make out the phosphorescent ripples and saffron hues that wreathed the flames. 

The air smelled vaguely of mildew and crumbling concrete, while the scampering of rodents in between masonry thundered in my ears. I could hear them squeaking, the sounds of their bones compressing while they squeezed through cracks and crevices. 

I could hear their heartbeats — tiny surges of blood in their capillaries. 

Such fragile little things, I wonder what they’d feel when they’re crushed by the force of my teeth. If they’d feel pain, if any at all, as I drain them dry…

I was so, so hungry. 

My awareness had heightened ten-fold, the anarchy of it all confounding whatever human that was left in me. The sensation of everything all at once was too much to bear and I covered my ears to drown out the distress. 

Futile efforts indeed. 

“Adrian? Adrian…” My voice hoarse from wheezing.

Was this what he had to endure? Being so akin with the presence of entirety, enough to render one insane. Was this why he had been so loath to turn me?

I hauled myself off the ground, bidding my legs to what looked to be a door. Scarce a blink had passed than I was face to face with a metal threshold — intricate lineations etched faintly onto the frame. 

“Willing blood of the Raven Maiden,” — Enochian, words of ancient bygone, but Adrian and I had been avid philologists.

I didn’t concern myself with whether the translation had in fact referred to my blood, but I sank my fangs — a lurid extension — into my wrist and smeared them over the threshold. 

The magicked portal transported me to a bed chamber, a former bed chamber, now resembling the crux of a dense forest.

Creepers cleaved through stone, while poison vines slivered across furniture. Rich moss clung to the bed frame, eating away at the tulle canopy, embedding itself into rotted linen.

That chaise…it was ours. 

Horror flooded my senses as I glanced furtively around. 

Our armoire, our settee, our desk. 

Strewn across the floor, some shredded by tree roots dissecting the wooden panelling, lay stacks of disintegrating parchment like remnants of forgotten lore.

Vampiric speed overtaking, my eyes scanned the moth-eaten pages over. 

“Come back to me.”

“Come back to me.”

“Come back to me.”

I choked on my tears. 

“To be born a dhampir is to be born a monster.”

They fell like glass, shattering on the ink, eroding the paper more.

How long had I been asleep for?

“No, no, no…”  I wept into the emptiness, anguish imprisoning my lungs, blocking off air. In spite of being undead, I had a heart, and it bled — it bled crimson, pain and grief. It bled with all the words I wished I could take back. 

It bled with all the ache that I might never see Adrian again. 

I scoured the castle. Every tower, every room, every dungeon, each a shell of its former mirth. The scenes ran parallel  — overgrown foliage, wrecked furnishings, pillars atrophied by decay. Our home had been eaten away by the curse of time. There was no sign of life, no essence of Adrian. 

With a threshing hole in my heart, I raced past the lattice of abandon toward the main doors. As the iron portcullis lifted, I recoiled at the hell that awaited me. 

There, in the blistering winter, impaled upon rows and rows of stakes, dangled festering corpses of night creatures…and humans. 

What have I done?

Part I

[theholmwoodfoundation]

"I am having a f***ing mental breakdown, I’m stuck travelling with a woman claiming to be possessed by a ghost."

Artwork by @fiotrethewey

--

ALT TEXT:

A blonde haired woman in an overlarge coat and rucksack standing with her back to the audience whilst a a dark haired man stands next to her. He is frowning in a side profile, wearing a crumpled suit. They stand overlooking a moor with a orangey hue, suggesting late in the day.

[draculathedansemacabre]

Oh, why not.

One more playlist for today:

Our Quincey Morris Playlist.

[enbylestat]

Mina's Diary

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Dracula - Bram Stoker (Novel 1897) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings (check notes and tags!) Relationships: Jonathan Harker/Mina Murray Harker, Mina Murray Harker/Lucy Westenra Characters: Mina Murray Harker, Jonathan Harker Additional Tags: Inspired by Dracula - Bram Stoker (Novel 1897), Book compliant, Bisexuality, Period Typical Attitudes, south asian mina murray, 1890s, Historical References, Historical Inaccuracy, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn, Epistolary, POV Multiple, Historical Accuracy Series: Part 1 of Accounts of Carpathian Vampire Summary: Inspired by @re-dracula and Dracula Daily's fandom, thanks @see-arcane, @0nelittlebirdtoldme, @bluecatwriter & @starlitartworks! semi-weekly updated fan fiction from mostly Mina's perspective. Exploring themes of found family, heroism, love, relationships, perspective, slaying the monster whilst fighting your own and more…

[chthonic-cassandra]

Really need to get better about using the 'mark for later' button on AO3; when I start thinking about the number of fics for which I have seen recs and have no way of finding again I feel very sad.

[teenagedracula]

me and my buddy renfield reading dracfield smut together for laughs

[lauralot89]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Dracula - Bram Stoker (Novel 1897), Dracula & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Major Character Death Relationships: Brides of Dracula/Dracula Characters: Dracula, Jonathan Harker, Brides of Dracula Additional Tags: One-Sided Dracula/Jonathan Harker, Memories, Flashbacks, Vampire Turning, Blood Drinking, Stabbing, Decapitation, Blood, Spoilers, Hallucinations, Ashes, Time Weirdness, As in the story jumps around in time all over the place Summary:

I shall be glad as long as I live that even in that moment of final dissolution, there was in the face a look of peace, such as I never could have imagined might have rested there.

Dracula dies.

[unholy-gigi]

Some artwork for my fan fic... I was shy to show because we'll...it's not so good

[nellieshill]

Sometimes you have to write bad, self-indulgent fan fiction. For enrichment.

[seleneblue]

Winter Fruit (Part 1)

x. Dracula 2020 x. Dracula x Reader x. Explicit x. Summary: A new life, a new chapter, and everything is getting so heated. x. Word count: 630

“What is it that you desire?”

So lush, lovely, and dark. The vampire’s voice is like a fine and deadly syrup. The vowels tickle in your ear like a beautiful, sinister little dance.

The sun slowly dips below the horizon. Plush curtains and lamps with soft amber glows blocked out most of the golden rays, except for one sliver peeking through a far off window. Close enough for you to see the waning sunlight, and far away to do any harm. Soon, the night would bloom with pinholes of stars like silent cosmic guardians flitting over your darkest desires.

The vampire is talking to you.

You reach for an onyx bowl and finger a fresh fig, delaying the inevitable answer Dracula already knew. Days passed—maybe even a week—since you eschewed your old life. Abandoned routines and livelihoods to run head first into his arms with no plan, present or future.

You make eye contact with him and bite into the petal-soft ripened fig instead of answering. You hope it burns him. Just a little bit, enough for some delicious trouble.

Dracula says your name one more time. The urge to say Yes, Daddy pulsates in your throat.

You eat the rest of the fig. “Mm, you.”

In Dracula’s chambers the fireplace is full of blue and orange tipped flames. Something else in you is already burning, it’s mossy and ancient. Carnality lives in your mouth.

If only he would fully taste it.

Everything around you both is an embrace and a spell. Wreaths of dried pomegranates and lamb’s ear (fairy treasures, Dracula tells you), candle sconces, and portraits of beautiful women and men long gone adorn the flocked velvet wallpaper. The room is warm and the heat pools inside your belly in wild anticipation of his mouth, his such sharp teeth.

In this arid, forest-tinged museum is where new art will be made—Dracula’s worship of you.

+++

Dracula is upon you before you take a new breath. The scent of you is intoxicating, like a lush forbidden fruit. The rising heat makes you both hunger.

“What is it that you desire?” he asks again.

At this moment, you study his hands. How close they are to your neck, how large they are against your skin. His fingers trace lines at your clavicles, the other hand reaching to your breast and teases your nipples.

You gasp. Dracula continues.

“Yesterday, you asked me to rip your dress off into shreds,” he says into your ear. “And you rode my thigh.”

Dracula nips at your neck. Teasing, so much teasing. You moan and his eyes turn red. “The day before that, I worshiped your slit again and again.” You grin, remembering the delicious forced orgasms, quivering in a pile of sticky sweat with pinpricks of blood glistening at your throat.

Dracula shivers with arousal. “You are beautiful, my dove,” he says.

He bites you hard, leaves a trickle of blood on your neck and chest in his destructive wake.  Sighing, you try to muster the words of your desire. “Tell me,” he commands.

The small puncture marks on your neck ache with pleasure. Your lips feel warm, pulsating at the prospect of his kisses, and even more pleasure. Languid thoughts race through your head, if he could take you fully. If Dracula could make you truly his.

Dracula lazily pinches your nipples again, your body keeps heating up. The wet space between your thighs throbs. “I want you,” you say. “All of you—completely inside me.”

He straddles you and that sickly divine scent of mythology and dark pomegranates fills your nose. You’re ready to take him, to be filled up with his hard hot sex. You’re ready to be a bride.

“You wish is my command,” Dracula says. “My bride.”

Part 2 (Coming soon, hopefully by the end of this week.)

[roselynnthornwood]

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[enbylestat]

Mina's Diary

Chapters: 51/? Fandom: Dracula - Bram Stoker (Novel 1897) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings (read the additional tags!) Relationships: Jonathan Harker/Mina Murray Harker, Mina Murray Harker/Lucy Westenra, Jonathan Harker/Quincey Morris, Mina Murray Harker/Quincey Morris, Arthur Holmwood/Quincey Morris/John Seward, John Seward/Abraham Van Helsing, R.M. Renfield & John Seward, Mina Murray Harker & John Seward, Arthur Holmwood/Quincey Morris/John Seward/Lucy Westenra, Mina Murray Harker & Lucy Westenra, Dracula & Lucy Westenra, Dracula & Mina Murray Harker, Dracula & Jonathan Harker Characters: Mina Murray Harker, Jonathan Harker, Lucy Westenra (Dracula), Lucy Westenra's Mother, Sister Agatha (dracula), John Seward, Arthur Holmwood, R.M. Renfield, Quincey Morris, Abraham Van Helsing, Dracula Additional Tags: Inspired by Dracula - Bram Stoker (Novel 1897), Book compliant, Bisexuality, Period Typical Attitudes, 1890s, Historical References, Historical Inaccuracy, Slow Burn, Epistolary, POV Multiple, Historical Accuracy, polycule, Polyamory, Threesome - F/F/M, (in the emotional sense), Period-Typical Sexism, Period-Typical Racism, Internalized Biphobia, Internalized Misogyny, Gothic, Horror, Dreams and Nightmares, References to Dracula - Bram Stoker (Novel 1897), South Asian Mina, Rape Recovery, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Rape Aftermath, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Blood Drinking, Non-Consensual Blood Drinking, Vampires, Minor Character Death, POV Alternating Series: Part 1 of Accounts of Carpathian Vampire Summary: Inspired by Re: Dracula and Dracula Daily, a semi-weekly updated fan fiction from mostly Mina's perspective. Exploring themes of found family, heroism, love, relationships, perspective, slaying the monster whilst fighting your own and more…