#dracula imagine

[just-some-user-hunny]

~ Vladcard is a striking being. There's something heavy to him. Something ancient. The true form of Alucard. Despite being the form of his youngest years, this is him from a time from his oldest memories. An infamous warlord. Armour and sword slick with the blood and tears of his enemies and own people. A name- a legend.

~ There's something that separates Alucard from Dracula. A somberness to him- stoic and grounded. They are both cruel in their respective way, but the difference is stark. Alucard is playful and sadistic- like a cat toying with a half-dead mouse. Dracula is more serious with his cruelty. There's no playfulness or casualness to him. He commits his acts with reason. With intent. No matter how trivial or cold they may be.

~ Dracula is more tender and doting. Whatever semblance to warm humanity that dwells within him shines through for you. Fond, warm looks are often cast upon you whenever you are within eyesight- a slight smile content on his lips as he dotes on you like an ancient wise stag over his little doe. A shielding presence that dwarfs you with his sturdy armoured form, swallowing you up in steel and a blood red cloak.

~ He's beyond gentle with you- Alucard has always been gentle with you, but he's not practiced in the art of touch or affection. Dracula is, however. Often you'll find him offering his imposing gauntlet for you to take, tucking you close under his arm and cape to keep you close with him. He also has a tendency for being more outwardly affectionate. Cupping the nape of your neck and lightly caressing the skin there with armoured fingers, or lightly stroking your cheek with his knuckle. Peering down at you with such devotion and passion it leaves you shy.

~ He is incredibly indulgent with you. Whilst teetering on the edge of an intimidating and sweet figure of staggering authority, he's very patient with you. Purring to you with his thick dulcet voice, his accent is suave and pretty to your ears- and he knows it very well. Often complimenting you and chiming the odd pet name here and there- not much different from your usual Alucard. Draga Mea... Luna vieții mele... And he'll smile at you fondly whenever you show him that endearing confused expression on your face at his words, which are obviously foreign to you. His sweet human.

~ There is one thing that has seemed to remain the same however, and that is his keenness to show off. He lathers up your praise, either it be compliments or words of astonishment. He laps it up like a greedy cat, pressing your palm to his cheek and keeping it there. Each little compliment or curious remark rewarded with a stubbly kiss to your palm.

I feel I may have fallen a little short here. Hopefully I think of some more stuff for Vladcard, because really he's so cool. I'd love to hear your guys thoughts and headcanons of him!!! <3

[tawneybel]

Imagining trying to comfort Walt after Evie stakes him, by telling him he looks like a DILF. Then having to explain what the acronym stands for.

[angelinpiink]

castlevania masterlist ࿐ྂ。

❥ camilla

carmilla with a fem! s/o headcannons

❥ dracula/ vlad tepes

dracula x fem! reader // modern AU | love you for you

dracula with a witch! s/o headcannons

❥ trevor belmont

trevor x fem! reader | drunk on your touch

masterlist main page!

[lesbian-deadpool]

Wade: You either become a vampire, or live long enough to get railed by one.

Dracula: 

Dracula: Please leave my dwelling and never return.

[vvanillavveins]

I don't think we give Jonathan Harker nearly enough credit for his absolutely unhinged choices. In 1897, that pathetic wet cat of a man was written with enough grit, willpower, and raw human stupidity to rival any of our modern horror podcast protagonists. When faced with a centuries-old vampire, in a coffin, drenched in fresh blood, he really thought the best thing to do was to hit it in the face WITH A SHOVEL. The audacity. The misplaced confidence. The sheer desperation. No plan. No hesitation. Running on fear and spite alone. And i fucking love him for it. Truly the character of all time.

[yanderedrabbles]

Letters from a Yandere Vampire

December 7th, 1886

Dear y/n,

Please do not think me presumptuous for writing to you so soon, but my heart would give me no rest. I have been unable to stop thinking of you since our encounter at the Duke's soiree.

Perhaps it is my countenance or perhaps my foreign heritage, but London's débutantes seem to find me positively frightful. I had resigned myself to yet another evening of disappointment when you introduced yourself to me.

In all my travels, I have met few ladies with your boldness of spirit. You transformed my dour evening into one of unimaginable enjoyment.

I have included with my letter some pressed flowers from my native Transylvania. You expressed much interest in the botany of my homeland and I hope these will intrigue you.

Your interest in my travels is remarkably flattering. And, if I may be so bold, may I invite you to a dinner at my salon? I have much still to share.

Yours sincerely,

Count Nicolae Drăculești

December 17th, 1886

My dearest y/n,

How I enjoyed our evening together! When we danced, I felt my soul set afire. In my travels, none have so captivated me.

Do not think me hasty, but I have sent my messenger with a gift. I can think of no better place for these jewels than around your neck. Please, accept them with my most sincere compliments.

You amused me very much when you pointed out my teeth. My fangs are indeed much longer and sharper than a normal man's. Perhaps you wish to feel their sharpness against your skin?

The nights grow longer and colder. Do you dislike the winter darkness, I wonder. Or do you only long for someone to share it with, as I do?

Ah, forgive my rambling! I'm writing to ask if you will allow me the privilege of escorting you to the Yuletide ball? I can think of no finer gift to celebrate Christmas.

I must soon depart for my home and I insist on spending more time together before then.

Yours,

Nicolae Drăculești

December 25th, 1886

My love,

Merry Christmas! I walked through the untouched snow and even London seemed beautiful and pure.

In this cold, I can think of nothing but having you with me. A day without you is an eternity past.

It seems I have been waiting for you for centuries. Is it to bold to say you are the woman of my dreams? Forgive this fool his insolence, but when I write to you I feel possessed.

You have asked me at length about my aversion to the Church and silver. You are such a logical creature but there are some things beyond the realm of science.

Seek to know no more, for both our sakes.

Another matter has been bothering me of late. I have noticed Lord Lancaster has expressed an interest in you.

The man fawns over you like a slobering hound. As your companion, it is my duty to advise against him. He is unworthy of your attention, much less your sympathy. 

Surely you see that it is you and I that are the more compatible match?

Ever yours,

Nicușor

January 1st, 1887

Dear,

I wished to keep you ignorant of my nature. And yet, you have seen me unmasked. A creature of the night.

It was your blood that did it. A single drop was all it took for my instinct to take over.

I hope you are unhurt. If I were in my right mind, I never would have pinned you against the wall as I did. I never would have forced my kiss upon you.

I could hear your heart racing when I showed you my fangs. Why did you not scream?

Did I fighten you into silence? Or was it something else?

You asked me what you are to me and at the time I had no answer to give. Are you my prey? My meal?

I have spent all night in thought and still I fear uttering these words.

You are my beloved.

My heart belongs entirely to you, wretched and sinful though it may be. No blood is sweeter than yours.

I burn for you, my darling.

I grow agitated at each day that passes when we are not together. My treacherous mind plays such awful tricks on me. Surely you have not cast me aside for another? Or worse, have I frightened you beyond redemption?

Oh, banish the thought! Who has your affection? Your love?

Please, put my poor heart at ease. Meet me in the gazebo at the end of your garden after sunset.

I cannot bear to be parted from you much longer.

Ever your slave,

Nicușor

y/n,

My castle must be prepared for your arrival and I have set forth with great haste to do so. In case you awake before my return, I've left you this letter.

You are currently on board a private train car bound for Transylvania. Do not attempt to leave. My guards have strict orders to ensure you reach home.

You are changed, my dear.

I have bitten you and transformed you into a creature like myself. Upon our final meeting, I intended only to say goodbye. You are too fine and beautiful a creature to be wasted on the likes of me.

But when I saw you in the moonlight, I could not help myself.

You are so beautiful. So bright and lively. You are what my cold halls have lacked all these many years.

My love, I drank your blood. Every drop of it. Nothing in my centuries of existence has ever tasted so sweet, so right.

It can be frightening, I know. But do not despair.

The light of the sun will forever be out of reach, but there are a thousand traits you've gained. Strength. Speed. Immortality.

The grave will never taste your flesh, old age will never hound at your door.

As I am the one who changed you, I am also your Lord and Master. The bond between us is forged in blood. Wherever I go, you must always follow. If I am to die, so shall you. If I am to command, you must obey.

It is a tight leash and not one of my devising, I assure you.

I intend to be your partner and not your Lord. So for both our sakes, my love, do not give me cause to use that power.

You and I have all eternity together. Does it please you as it does me?

I have longed for a bride for centuries. You cannot imagine the loneliness. And in all those years, none have impressed themselves upon my heart as you have.

I have stolen you from the sunshine and into my world of night and blood. I have ripped away any hope of heaven and salvation. No God now, no church or altar.

I am a rogue and a thief and still I beg of you. Please love, do not hate me.

I've made you into my vampire bride.

Your husband,

Nicușor Drăculești

[ash-tree-eyes]

Can you imagine being Dracula on June 25th. CAN YOU IMAGINE.

You’ve just had a busy night. You’ve gone out and done unspeakable horrors to the local townsfolk, and you’re tired. So you stow away in your little chapel in your box of dirt for the day, making sure to keep the door locked so the solicitor you’re keeping prisoner can’t get in.

Then, later that day, despite the utter impossibility of it, you are disturbed BY THE VERY SOLICITOR PRISONER YOU LOCKED OUT, IN YOUR ROOM. How did he get here? What is he doing? The door was locked.

Surely, you think, he must have broken down the door somehow, or you forgot the key somewhere. You investigate. Everything is where it should be. Nothing is broken, the key is where you left it.

No. No, what actually happened is much worse. This little English solicitor, who has never up to this point displayed any particular strength of body, and has no supernatural abilities like you do, has CRAWLED DOWN THE SIDE OF YOUR CASTLE, HUNDREDS OF FEET ABOVE THE GROUND, FROM HIS ROOM RIGHT INTO YOURS. JUST FROM WATCHING YOU DO IT. AND HE MANAGED IT. HE’S SOMEHOW STILL IN ONE PIECE.

You, a horrific creature of the night, have an equal in wall climbing, and it is a regular human man with no more fucks to give and fuelled solely by hatred for you apparently.

Dracula should have been terrified of Jonathan from the start.

[didoleonina]

[moonsun2010]

5 June - The Dracula Drought begins

a redraw of this art from DD2023!

[see-arcane]

Trying to imagine Lucy’s situation right now.

Sleep means nightmares (if you’re alone).

Sleep means your blood is disappearing (if you’re alone).

Sleep means you’re doing worse than dying (if you’re alone).

And it’s all just Dracula playing with his food. The only thing keeping him from getting straight to the conclusion is his own restraint for the sadistic sport of it and practicing stealth in a land where he doesn’t yet rule the whole territory through fear.

But he could get away with it in one go. He could find half a dozen easy ways to pull it off before Van Helsing starts meddling in earnest.

…and that would end the game, wouldn’t it? No, no. Can’t have that. He wrung two whole months of fun out of Jonathan. Your turn now, Lucy.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Castlevania Characters Comforting GN! Reader After They Receive Bad/Scary News

A/N: Yes, this super-fast little headcanon piece was inspired by the US Election results. I did a lot of crying and mourning the day after and now I am ready to fight. I can’t offer you all a lot on this blog besides escapism and comfort, so I opted for the latter for this little post. They’re short (with some shorter than others) but I wanted to bang ones out for as many characters as quickly as possible.  

Note: Politics are not mentioned in the headcanons below. GN! Reader’s upsetting/scary news is not directly mentioned, rather the focus is on how their partner would comfort them.  

Word Count: 3.6k  

Trevor:  

Comfort, for most of his life, has been a stranger to Trevor. But that doesn’t mean he is incapable of providing it for his partner. It’s quite the opposite really.  

Trevor will make sure you’re warm and cozy, wrapping you in his cloak or blankets, and sitting beside you.  

Trevor won’t promise that everything will be okay, because, let’s face it, he knows better. Life isn’t always okay, it’s hard and unpredictable. As a result, Trevor feels empty sweet words aren't as comforting as they are infuriating or patronizing.  

Instead, Trevor simply holds you and tells you that he will always be by your side- in every battle, through every hardship, and every sunrise- he will always be there for you.  

Yes, Trevor’s a little rough around the edges, but he’s smart and wise when he wants to be. As hard and dangerous as life may be for you, you can trust he’s always observant, and on the lookout for anything else that may wish to do you harm.  

If anyone wants to get to you, they’re gonna have to go through him first.  

Sypha:  

Sypha is naturally empathetic and nurturing, so comforting her loved ones after they receive bad news comes easily to her. She’s such a comforting presence herself that even if you were hesitant to explain your feelings, just spending time near Sypha reassures you in a way.  

She makes sure you’re warm, especially your feet since hers are freezing all of the time.  

Once you're settled comfortably, she pulls you into her chest and allows you to rest your head on her shoulder.  

If you need to cry, that’s okay. She rubs a heated hand up and down your back as you let it all out. Her Speaker Magic ensures her hands are at the best temperature for soft, loving warm touches.  

Alucard:  

Alucard is no stranger to grief. He’s been given many reasons to mourn throughout his life, even if he’s had to temporarily compartmentalize those feelings to perform his more important duties. 

But because Alucard has never had the opportunity to feel first and act later, he takes it upon himself to perform any obligations you may otherwise have while he lets you sit in your despair.  

And should the level of pain prevent you from doing the things you need to do to take care of yourself, Alucard has no problem aiding you with those duties as well. He’ll cook you a nutritious meal, draw you a nice warm bath, and whisper you stories until you fall asleep.  

He finds that your vulnerability prompts him to further open himself to you- your worry reminds him it’s okay to have his own. The two of you cry and commiserate, holding each other through the tears and sadness as well as the feelings of betrayal and anger.  

Things may be difficult and dark ahead but as long as you can hold on to each other, Alucard swears all will be alright.  

Greta: 

Greta has endured a lot as the leader of her people. Even so, grief and anguish aren’t really her thing.  

Still, she knows when other people have reached their emotional limit, and she’s quite good at getting them to open up to her in ways they may not have expected.  

As her partner, know that she’s very observant and in tune with your emotions. Before you can even tell her that you’ve received bad news, she knows that already, just by the look on your face.  

She’ll take you somewhere private, away from the other villagers’ prying eyes, where you can express freely how it is you feel.  

Like Trevor, she won’t promise that all will end well, but she swears that no matter the storm, you don’t have to weather it alone—she’s not going anywhere.  

Dracula:  

Dracula is a loyal and obsessive lover, which makes him almost supernatural at detecting your moods/emotions. 

He can read your face the way scholars read a book- he knows what it is you're thinking, and just how it is you’re thinking of it.  

If you’re shaken up or upset, or incredibly angry at some news you’ve just received, Dracula will not only do everything in his power to console you but to amend whatever issue it is that has you so worked up.  

If someone has wronged you, he will kill them, it’s as simple as that. (Unless, of course, you beg him not to, in which case, he cannot help but do as you ask.)  

If you’re worried about your coming physical safety, fear not. He simply takes it upon himself to accompany you everywhere you go. (He’s learned this lesson the hard way, and he’s not about to lose another love in this manner.)   

If all else fails, Dracula will encourage you to do what you must to feel better: to release these feelings any way you know how. If you need to scream or cry or hurt a human or two, he does not judge you for it. You are his beloved human, and he is nothing but in awe of your emotional spectrum. Even though he despises the ignorance of humanity, Dracula cannot ignore the beauty that exists in feeling alive.  

Lisa: 

Lisa is a doctor, and she’s very used to delivering bad or unsavory news to her patients. Of course, it’s much more difficult for her to do so when she’s handling you, but she still puts on a brave and wise face for your sake.  

If it's a problem she can help you with, you can rest assured she will use every bit of knowledge, every tool at her disposal to make you feel better. And if it is a problem of society, not medicine, or science, she still tries her hardest to cheer you up.  

She reminds you of all the scientific advancements humanity has made thus far. Sure, many times things have been forgotten, or left to the wayside, but knowledge is forever. And just because the majority of people refuse to accept or believe in something, does not mean that science is dead.  

She will help you archive and preserve your experience as she believes leaving knowledge behind for future generations, even emotional and personal knowledge is a must.  

And on the nights when it all feels hopeless, she will brush your hair and sing you lullabies, like the ones she sang to Adrian all those years ago.  

Hector:  

Hector is a very emotional person. It’s his sensitivity that led him to discover his forgemaster abilities, and partly due to that, he sees his sensitivity as a strength.  

He cares for all wounded animals, and don’t think for a second that he won’t drop absolutely everything else to care for you, his partner! 

He will call over all your favorite reanimated pets and orchestrate a giant cuddle pile, especially in the coming days if he has to return to work/can’t hold you 24/7. He ensures you’re never lonely or frightened by creating a night creature guard who he orders to protect you with its life.  

Hector is very interested in your thoughts and opinions about your grief. He wants to know exactly what it is that hurts you, and how it’s materialized within the world, so he can record it in his teachings/books for later scholars to come to understand.  

Hector truly loves just having you near, holding you close, be it in bed, or seated outside enjoying a beautiful sunny day. He loves picnicking with you, showing you all the little amazing things the world has created, from the single blades of grass, to all the little bugs and creatures that call it home, and to the gorgeous blue sky, and the many different species of birds that travel through it.  

He knows humans can be cruel. He knows the world can be ugly, but he also knows it can be beautiful, and more than anything, he wishes to share that with you, because, well, he thinks you’re one of the most beautiful things in it.  

Isaac:  

Isaac has a naturally soothing presence. Just him being there for you makes you feel less unsteady.  

Once he calms you down enough so that you can speak without sobbing, he'll ask for as much information as he can. He’s not trying to rib or interrogate you, it’s just that he wishes to be as equally aware of the subject as you are.  

Being a very wise man, Isaac will offer advice on the situation, when applicable. And when it isn’t, he simply assures you that within his palace, so long as you are surrounded by his night creatures and those of a like mind, no harm will come to you.  

He encourages you to sit and meditate with him. The two of you sit close to the ground, breathing in and out. It doesn’t undo what has happened, but it helps make you feel more in control of your future. All that Isaac asks, in imagining the possibilities of such a wonderful future, you include him in it.  

Godbrand:  

Let’s be honest, Godbrand is pretty darn observant, but only half of the time. So, after you receive bad news, he’s either made aware at about the same time you are, or he’s 100% in the dark until you tell him to his face what has happened.  

If he doesn’t pick up on your soured mood, he’ll be a big grumpy baby about it. He complains when you don’t laugh at his jokes, or compliment his prowess after he tells the group a story of one of his recent spoils. He keeps picking at your expression until you’ll eventually have enough, and feel petty enough to spite him.  

It’s only after a week of you reeking of garlic that he relents and asks what the hell’s wrong.  

You throw a bulb of garlic at his head.  

In the event he has picked up on your mood, he assumes he’s done or said something to (ahem, once again) offend you. He’ll bring you jewelry or flowers or clothes or some of that mushy shit in an attempt to apologize. And when you tell him that this time, he’s in fact done nothing wrong, he bursts out laughing. The ridiculousness of the situation causes you to laugh too and before you know it the two of you are enjoying a night of merriment and drink, teasingly but lovingly, laughing at the other’s antics.  

 Raman and Sharma:  

Whatever this news is, you can bet their response will be similar.  

They’ll lavish you with fine gifts- gold, jewelry, and silks- but don’t expect too much emotional support.  

They adore you, but they also believe you to be this precious ornament, the rarest gem in their crown. You may have feelings, and be a multidimensional human, but they simply cannot see you that way.  

For them, humans are stupid, weak, imbeciles that are par in comparison to them. But you, you are not stupid, nor weak, nor an imbecile, and while they certainly don’t believe you rival them per se, they do believe you’re worthy of their attention.  

They tell you to forget about other people. You have them now. And if they’re being honest, what better news could a person like you possibly receive than that?  

Cho:  

Cho has never been one to care for weakness, be it physical or emotional. However, she has been known to make an exception on occasion for you.  

These feelings of grief, or anger- whatever they may be, she tolerates you exhibiting them so long as you do not ask her to physically comfort you.  

If you wish to be cuddled, she has other human servants in her court who could provide such service for you.  

While she claims to be unmoved by your situation, however, she does make a note of finding out if someone or something in particular has caused you this distress. When you ask her about it later, she feigns ignorance as to why that person or that thing has suddenly disappeared.  

Dragoslav:  

Dragoslav is a very practical, no-nonsense kind of man. He was that way even before he was turned into a vampire.  

He understands that humans and vampires have feelings because of course they do. But he does not see the reason for giving in to such things all the damn time.  

Where he comes from, people are usually very hardy, they do not complain about having to weather life’s many difficulties.  

However, as he is a vampire aristocrat, he’s become accustomed to a certain degree of luxury. This privilege has made him soft, in a way. His simple approach to believing merely being a vampire is enough to allow him to feel no threat nor shame when you confess your feelings of grief or anger to him.  

He lets you indulge in your feelings for a short period, perhaps even daring to sit with you as you talk through them, before telling you to brush your shoulders off and become strong once more.  

Zufall: 

Zufall (second only to Dracula) is closest to what you’d assume a stereotypical European vampire is like. 

In his immortality, Zufall prefers to be alone and chooses rather to surround himself with books and trinkets as opposed to a court full of servants.  

However, he does take an interest in humans as temporary companions. You are warm and interesting, and so eager to satisfy him, how could he resist the temptation to have a handful of you in rotation at any given time?  

You are one of his favorites, and while he will not ever regard you as an equal, he does truly wish for you to be content with his company. If you’ve received bad news, and are looking downcast, he will enquire about it, asking to know if there is perhaps something about your room or your enrichments that he can alter.  

If you are more on the hysterical side, Zufall will even begrudgingly allow you to hold him, as he runs his clawed fingers gently up and down your back. He hushes you before telling you parts of a fable he can recall from back when he was still a human boy. His deep voice and strong accent help lull you to sleep.  

Carmilla:  

Upon finding out you’re upset because you’ve received bad news, she’s filled with both annoyance and rage. Who dares to upset you? Don’t they know better than to trifle with her precious human? She will make them pay, whoever did this, whatever caused this. She will slice it to death with her claws if need be.  

If your news isn’t caused by the actions of one other person, but let’s say a mood or an opinion of society, she rolls her eyes, before pulling you close to tell you that you have nothing to worry about.  

Society is what’s kept her powerless and secondary all these years, she has no respect for its select worship and demonization of certain people and powers that be.  

She makes sure you’re pampered: the finest linens and silks, the best meals, and the best wine Styria has to offer if all yours with a snap of your fingers.  

She tells you not to worry, dear pet. She swears the world will soon bend to accommodate both yourself and her. And should anyone dare to stand in your way, she will squash them like the insignificant bug they are.  

Overall, she’s a little dramatic and murder-y about it, but it’s only because she loves you, and she knows how hard living (or nonliving) is when you’ve been made to feel small. She never wants you to know that pain. And you won’t, so long as she has something to say about it.  

Lenore:  

Lenore is a natural peacekeeper, so when she notices you are upset, she immediately sets out to do something about it.  

She will ask if there’s anything you would like help with, or if there’s perhaps anything she can get for you.  

If someone else is causing problems for you, she offers to act as a go-between or mediator of sorts and talk it out on your behalf. She insists on it, especially if the person causing you great distress or giving you bad news is one of her sisters.  

Striga & Morana: 

Striga and Morana are very practical thinkers, even if Striga is prone to outbursts occasionally. As a team, they are strategic experts in execution. As such they notice small changes in your mood. You don't even have to confide in them before they ask you what’s wrong.  

Striga offers to torture or kill whoever’s causing you to feel this helpless meanwhile Morana makes you a soothing cup of tea.  

It can be a lot to take in at once, two people who love you who want to protect you, assisting you in the very distinct ways they know how, but you know it is because they treasure your company.  

If this news is not something that can be fixed, they will hold you sandwiched in between them as you let out your feelings, be it by crying or simply voicing your frustrations.  

St. Germain: 

St. Germain tends to get carried away in his train of thought, so he is not always privy to your feelings and opinions.  

You would have to confide in him that you’ve received such devastating news, otherwise he would be completely oblivious.  

He still swears he has no clue as to why his previous lover left him, something that haunts him to this day. So the minute you tell him something’s wrong, he drops everything he’s doing and listens.  

He’ll hold you close to him and whisper sweet things into your ear, telling you how much he loves you and values you. He ensures you this world, and countless others, are greater with you in it. He begs for you to internalize that. He truly doesn’t believe he could survive without you.  

All he knows is that this world, as well as his life, would be poorer if you were not in it.  

Ratko:  

Ratko is not a sensitive man, but he does recognize the importance of sharing news with your loved ones, so he will insist you tell him what you know, as soon as you know it.  

When he learns it’s distressing, he sighs and reminds you that when you are close to a victorious vampire, such news should not matter.  

Still, if you are shaken up or angry, he will relent and allow you to sit in your emotions for a time.  

When he thinks it’s appropriate (most likely sooner than you would have), he demands your presence, bringing you to a surprise. It may be good human food, it may be money, it may be clothes, either way, those things matter not to Ratko. To him, they are merely symbols of wealth and victory.  

But that is why he insists you enjoy them. Despite whatever news you receive, he insists that you spend every waking moment feeling victorious- because you are.  

He thinks most humans are stupid pigs, beings he feels no need to respect. But with you, he is in awe of you. That alone, he will remind you, should make you feel more worthy than any other human on the planet.  

Varney/Death:  

Varney is an enigma, mainly because he’s playing dual roles. As Varney, he is compelled to embellish and dramatize his thoughts and feelings, and he will respond similarly to your own. On the other hand, as Death, he is compelled to be stoic and serious, gleefully capturing souls after they’ve departed.  

In the chance your upsetting news is the loss of a loved one, he will know before you. (Because you know, he is Death after all.) But for your sake, he will act shocked when you tell him. It may be a lie, but it’s meant for your benefit. He’d rather lie and validate your feelings than tell the truth and make you feel more alone.  

In the case your news is not a death, he will learn of it only if you tell him. And when you do, he tries to listen, and not tune you out. It’s a difficult task, the ups and downs of a single human life tend to seem too trivial to him, but for you, he makes an exception.  

And while he cannot directly kill all the people who have upset you, should your news be centered around the actions of a large group of people, he will make a point to consume their souls much slower than others, telling such folks he is doing it as an act of vengeance in your name.  

A/N 2.0: Can you tell I have a favorite background character or two? Lol.  

As always, if you enjoyed reading this work, please Like but more importantly, REBLOG.  

If you’d like to support me, Consider Buying Me A Coffee <3. 

[tawneybel]

Imagine walking in on Walt cranking it to your completely SFW social media selfies.

[dragongirlpoet]

Dark Signs 2

Pt I I Pt III

Alucard x you

Synopsis: You asked Alucard for a favour. Now you have to be careful what you wished for. "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 🔞 I Words: 3.5k

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?

Pt I I Pt III

[dathen]

Jonathan flipping through his little pocket dictionary as people point at him while chattering about satan and werewolves: Duolingo didn’t cover this vocabulary :(

[desireangel]

Honey & Venom Masterlist

Vampire!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

summary: In exchange for an escape from his death, the curse upon Aemond had seemed an easy price to pay for an eternal life of strength and power. But when the time comes for his debt to be collected and a mysterious illness sends you to the doorstep of the reclusive and fearsome Lord of Harrenhal's century-old castle, Aemond is faced with the other half of his soul and the agonising realisation that perhaps the cost of his salvation will also become his downfall.

warnings: MDNI - Strictly 18+ ONLY. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Blood, sex and horror. Gore. Heavy smut. This is set centuries after the Dance of Dragons: some deviations from canon. Dark!Aemond. Aemond and Alys are psychos together.

Dividers: @cafekitsune @bernardsbendystraws

▻ prologue ▻ chapter one

[true-bluesargent]

can we ride on the success of nosferatu and actually have a good dracula adaptation now. like, one that actually follows the actual plot of dracula. is the world ready