#vampire hunter d fic

[jup1ter33]

"Silence"

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆⚰︎⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧

ᯓ ⁺₊ ♱ .ᐟ || Where the dhampir finds himself yearning for something more with you, navigating his complicated feelings and doing so in a rather quiet way. <3 gn!Reader, mostly fluff, yearning, very mild angst, undetermined relationship,

╰┈➤ ❝ 1.5 wc ! ❞

The leaves glimmer with rainwater and moonlight, making the foliage appear like tiny fae had scattered fairy dust around. A bright waxing moon rests high in the sky, watching over sleeping creatures in a motherly fashion. It was silent, aside from the shuffling behind you. The dhampir shuts the carved wooden door behind him, taking faint steps towards where you're seated. He need not say a word, for he knows you'll recognize him through his rustling alone. As if mimicking you, he seats himself next to you on the damp step, bodies juxtaposed against each other. 

“Did you come outside to enjoy the scenery, D?” Your voice broke the silence, whispered and soft like a petal. His gaze did not leave the rain-covered lawn, blinking as he exasperated a faint sigh, only noticeable through the expanding of his chest.  “I came to see you.” His voice contrasted against yours, yet, it still held the softness he always carries. The few words he spoke held significant weight in your heart, knowing the dhampir's tendencies are solitude and tough walls covering his underlying vulnerability. “Why so?” Finally, he lowered his gaze onto you, watching how your skin appeared to have a cool tint from the faint twilight. He stares for a moment, thin lips sealed shut as his pupil flicks over your face, taking in the features now accentuated by the scenery. There was hesitation, you could see by the way his lips parted before immediately closing again, turning away from you. After a moment of internal contemplation, he decided it was best not to speak: per usual.

This didn't hurt you, as you knew D was not fond of using his voice for much of anything. Instead of trying to bait him into giving you an answer, like you used to, you opted for silence as well, gaze casting down to your hands where you adjust the cuffs of your attire. While you were distracted with yourself, he stole another glance at you, applying all your features to his memory to ensure he’d never forget your beauty, even when he was to outlive you. 

Before anything else could progress, you heard a small but rather obnoxious voice start to taunt the man next to you. “Really D? C’mon, why don't yo—” D’s brows furrow together as he squeezed his left hand into a fist, effectively stopping the parasite from causing him any more embarrassment. Your laughter is what brings him out of his state of annoyance, the sound much more delightful than Left-Hands. He turns his head to face you now, featuring softening into a pleased look. He’s glad you find it humorous rather than bothersome. 

“Left-Hand certainly likes to talk more than you do.” Your laughter fizzles out, a smile gracing your features now. D could feel the way his heart hammered in his ribcage, fearful you be able to see the sapphire-colored pendant throbbing against his chest from the intensity of his emotion. He knew what he was feeling, yet it felt so terribly wrong to do so. A human and a dhampir. He contemplated if this was as bad a vampire and a human many times, weighing the differences to try to perhaps justify himself. However, his brain could not come to a reasonable conclusion, as his heart had seemingly taken over. He felt incredibly drawn to you. Your presence, your beauty, your talent, your rarity— something about you was irresistible to him. Yet, he was able to conclude that these feelings were not from the vampiric side of him, but the human. He did not chase after you with the intent to feed or with lust, it was far different. This was the type of love humans felt. 

“I suppose he does,” D remarked, lips threatening to tilt up into a smile. The urge to reach out and caress your cheek took over him, imagining the softness of your skin, along with with warmth beneath his cold hand. “I apologize.” The words came suddenly, causing you to let out a puff of air, chuckling while you rested your face in your palm. “There's no need to apologize for that, he can be funny sometimes.” D’s brows lower, eyes thinning as he lowers his head a bit. He felt guilt creep up into his throat. He shouldn't let your palace of a body be tainted with his beastly nature, or so he thought. “No,” He interrupts you. His silence after speaking left you to decode his words, sifting through the phrases as you gazed at him with an attentive expression. 

As you realize this, you let out a soft sigh. “Oh, but there’s no reason to apologize for not talking.” His gaze drops to you, observing the way you speak so softly as if you were trying to lull him to sleep with a gentle lullaby. He wets his lips. “I don’t mind, D.” The stoic expression remains on his face, with the gentle breeze fluttering his hair being the only indication that he hasn’t turned into a statue. Once again, he remains silent.

Observing the steady drips of rainwater off of a cupped leaf, it falls quiet once more. This leaves the poor dhampir back with these raging thoughts, his heart aching to have something more with you, yet according to his morals, this is the exact opposite of something he should be doing. He is to prevent the spread of vampirism, to put a stop to the “disgusting” creatures. However, you didn't hold these same views as D. Always speaking about how you think the nature of vampires is something beautiful and romantic even, not disgusting. But with your opposing views on the topic, you would not try to stop his bounty hunting, as it is what he does. 

During the moment of peace, he recalls the time you had expressed interest in his fangs. He didn't understand why you would be so interested in something that alienates him from you, shouldn’t that be frightening for you? He allowed you to gawk and pry into his mouth, looking at the shape of his fangs and mumbling out questions akin to “Have you ever bitten someone?” As usual, he would not answer and let you continue. However, something about that was endearing to him. You simply were not scared of him. There was no fear in your heart for the daunting and rather tall dhampir, only genuine emotions that bordered on something more than friends. His introverted nature makes it hard for him to make sense of his feelings. He doesn't have many friends, or companions even. Before you started tagging along he was alone, with only his steed and Left hand. Coming to the conclusion he did was certainly a great achievement for him. 

He found himself yearning to be by your side, an ache in his chest when he thinks of you. Although he was more than capable by himself and had no problem being alone, his thoughts periodically drifted to what his life could be like with you. What would it be like waking up next to you? Would Left hand bother you too much? But the main question was always how do you feel that he is not human, but dhampir? Maybe this is how Charlotte and Meier felt. No— he mustn't think like that. 

His chest expands again as he sighs, the breath drawn from his lips as his deep umber hair falls over his shoulder, a little curl tickling his face. Hesitantly, his hand lifts off his lap, ever so gently placing on the back of your skull. You didn't flinch, nor act surprised, it was as if this was completely natural for you both. The cold, gloved hand tenderly slid down to the base of your neck, cradling your head with his large hand. Your gaze turned to him, lingering on the drip of the raindrops before meeting his dark eyes. His lashes were visible, his sclera pure and contrasting against the rich color of his iris. Coaxing you closer with his hand, his broad body leaned in carefully, his scent wafting over you at the proximity. He wasn't thinking clearly, it felt like Left hand had spread to his entire body. There was a slight pause before he closed the space, his lips resting against the crown of your head with a tender and light touch. You stayed perfectly still, relishing in the moment of his scarce affections. Eyes fluttering shut, he stayed there for a moment longer than he should've. This small, yet golden act of affection had you smiling under him, wanting to reciprocate your fondness. 

“D.”

His lashes fluttered open, just enough to meet your eyes while his hand rested at the base of your neck. You felt warmth in your face against the misty chill of the night, and D noticed the softness in your gaze. Tenderly, your warm hand reached up to cup his cheek, the coolness of his skin grounding you amidst the heat you felt. “Aren't you sweet?” Your teasing words made him shut his eyes, leaning his face into your hand. You gently swiped a curl away from his cheek, allowing your palm to rest flat against the plane of his face.

“I try.”

______________________________________________________________

⊹˚˙♱˙˚⊹

ty for reading ! <3

[onthesandsofdreams]

Silently [2/200]

Fandom: Vampire Hunter D Pairing: Reader x D Pre Relationship

On AO3

You knew you were being followed.

The steps that came from behind were unhurried, they did not rush whenever you did, but it was late and the sun was beginning to fall. And the steps never stopped.

You were supposed to go and buy some tea for your mother, but now, you were regretting having to give into her weeping. You would think the woman was going to die without the tea. So, here you were; alone in a near empty street trying to get away from whomever was following you. They were patient and you were getting more and more scared.

On impulse, you entered a bar and looked around. That is when you spotted him, tall and near hidden in the shadows, the man was nursing a large cup.

You rushed towards him.

"Sir, please, I know we do not know each other, but I am being followed may I sit? I can buy you something for your trouble." Your heart was racing and hoped the man would allow you too.

The man lifted his face a little and you nearly flinched, whomever he was, he had noble blood. He was too pale, to finely sculpted not to have it. He looked at you nearly disinterestedly, "Sit. It grows late, I will finish my coffee and take you home. You should not wander."

Relief washed all over you, "Thank you kindly sir, I am Y/n. I appreciate you taking the trouble to indulge me."

"I am D." He said with a near imperceptible shrug. "I do not like people who hunt others for fun."

You bit your lip when you noticed the sword at his hip. A hunter. Of course he would notice that some men would follow others, to rob them, to steal them… or worse. "Well, thank you. May I get you something as thanks?"

"No. Sit, calm down. I give you my word, you are safe."

Just as he said, three men entered the bar and you near fainted. They were the men who worked for a local wealthy man who kept bothering you. "I think those are them," you whispered.

D had no reaction except taking a sip from his coffee. "Fools. As I said, you are safe." He waved a waitress over, "Bring her a cup of tea, she need it."

"You don't need…"

"No, I do not. But you do, drink your tea and try and calm yourself."

So you did. The waitress had brought chamomile, which helped. And once he was done, D stood and you followed, he walked at you side until you were safely back home. "Take care of yourself."

"You too, D. Thank you." You said and rushed inside and locked the door, once done, you watched as he walked away. You were safe.

[jarwithdragonteeth]

you are mean one, mr twin.

[vampirehunterdzine]

Our headmod (Vagabond's Respite) is holding a Vampire Hunter D themed Secret Santa to commemorate the new season. This exchange is open to all! Please take a look at the Guidelines for the Rules and Timeline. Here's the sign up form

[vietbluecoeur]

at eternal rest

Rating: Gen

Relationship: Alucard (Castlevania) x D (Vampire Hunter D)

Word Count: 1.8k

Summary:

The faint aroma of lilies fills the solemn space. There are no pews. As a result, the hollow chapel seems to yawn above and around. The Hunter passes from shadow into rainbow-tinted light, and his eyes land upon the far end of the room. Beneath the colored windows rests a coffin. Within the coffin lies a man.

[vampires-and-dhampirs]

Hi hi! friends!! I'm working on some ideas for a Halloween VHD themed week for fun.

[dirtyoldmanhole]

closeup of a gunter/corrin piece i'll never finish ~ tweaking corrin's design a bit, just a touch more otherworldly.

[bookwormgamerweeb]

Vampire Hunter D x Assassin Female Reader

------------------------------------------------------------------------------This is my first fanfic I will be making and tell me if you like it or not, im going to try and make D as like he is in the books and manga. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chapter 1: The Bar [Sfw]

A drink. She though nt while walking up the steps to the tavern, its been months since she has been in town and all her ''jobs'' have been taking all her time.Y/N can hear the chatter inside the tavern, it sounds like a fight is going on

The doors swing open . . . . . SILENCE filled the room, maybe because of her outfit she thought made them suspicious, she wore a black turtleneck, black pants that shaped her curves, a deep blue baldic which carried her naginata sword, a big black cloak and a mask that covers her nose and down.

Walking in the tavern, she sat in the shadows hoping no one would know who she is.She finally got up to the front to get a drink. ''Could i get a mug of ale . . . '' she said while throwing a couple gold coins on the table.the bartender gave her a look and said ''shouldn't you be your husband its bad for a women like you here at night, there are bad, bad men out here''. Y/N sighed ''Are you going to give me my drink or not'' sounding very agitated.

The bartender grinned and slid a big mug of ale, Y/N took the mug and walked to her table.all eyes was on her but there was somebody else looking at her, it made her feel uneasy.she made quick of the ale, feeling a bit woozy she gets up and stumbles outside the tavern eyes still on her.Been a long while since she had a drink so she might have become a lightweight.

The streets seemed colder than it was when she came in very strange. . . .

galloping

A man on horse scooped you up galop and started riding out of town, even in your drunken state you could see he was beautiful.Black wavy hair that flew in the wind, skin whiter than bone, plump lips and brown eyes that seem to lead to another world but at the same time so empty.Everything else was obscured by a black hat.

Y/N tried to struggle but his grasp on you was so tight you felt you were going to suffocate.She tried to grab her naginata but he was able to grab it before she could could strike.they were getting deeper in the forest, Y/N tried to look up but was greeted with a branch to the face.She began to lose consciousness and then . . . black

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

and thats it im going to make the mc independent but too independent ty bye

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

[critterofthenight]

girl help my fixations are merging

[dark-elf-writes]

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11855547

!!!

[onthesandsofdreams]

Rose At The Door

Fandom: Vampire Hunter D Pairing: D x Fem!Reader Prompt: Rose by @fluffbruary

Read @ AO3

It is a regular Friday when it happens.

You open your door in the early morning, only to find a rose with a note tied to your door handle. Frowning, you pick it up. The rose is perfect and the note simply reads: Blue looks good on you.

Well now, this is unexpected. Very flattering and very, very unexpected. You take a sniff from it, and its scene makes you close your eyes and relax. You have always loved roses. Sighing, you go back inside and place it in a vase with water, the note goes into your journal. And much to your regret, you make your way to work.

~

The following day, another rose appears at your door in the morning, with another note attached. This time, it reads: You have soothing voice.

You clutch it to your chest, heartbeat quickening. It joins the previous one.

~

The pattern repeats itself every day for the next two weeks. The first flowers are starting to wilt you have decided to press them in a book and then frame it. Your admirer, because clearly, it is one; has done his (hers?) best to make sure you receive one every day. The notes are kind, gentle. Not crass and vulgar as you have - unfortnately - seen your friends or fellow cooks receive.

The restaurant in which you work, the head cook realized that something was up very, very quickly. But then again, this is an older, married woman who can spot anything wrong miles and miles away. "So, what's their name?"

"I don't know," you told her truthfully. You could trust the woman, she wasn't a gossip. "It's an apparent secret admirer."

The woman's brows had shot up, "Well, then, I hope whomever it is, is a good person. You deserve kindness."

You appreciated her words.

The world you lived in was dangerous, with the Nobility in decline, some of them were very, very dangerous and desperate. So, you had to be extra careful.

Which is why you always went home before sundown. Everything that you needed was bought during daylight hours, never opening your door to strange knocks at odd hours, and certainly not lingering in places that could render you vulnerable.

That didn't mean, you did not appreciate the roses and the messages. Some spoke about you, some of your admirer in such quiet ways, that it really could be anyone. So, even two weeks into receiving flowers, you had no idea who that person was.

Until one morning you open the door and received the shock of your life. In front of you, holding a perfect rose, was D. The infamous Vampire Hunter. Your heart beat so loud, you were certain he had heard it.

He bowed to you, hand pressed against his heart. "I hope, that you do not mind one more rose."

His voice is calm and measured, his eyes soft. And you find that you do not mind one more rose at all.

[mxltifxnd0m]

drunken words ↼ d. winchester

summary: drunk you isn't the best at keeping their mouth shut

pairings: dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x gn! reader, platonic sam winchester x reader

requested: yes/no: by @traiitorjoe; thank you for sending your request!

word count: 3.0K

warnings: no use of 'y/n', none really, some cursing, a little bit of fluff, sam being a meddling little shit, some angst, kinda edited

a/n: i got this request in july and i felt so bad for having put it off for so long but here we have it! there is a potential for a pt.2 so if anyone wants that lmk lol

but enjoy the fic! please like, comment, and reblog!! your feedback fuels me!

[here's my taglist; read rules before sending in an ask]

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

Dealing with the Winchesters always felt like a Herculean task when you would run into them while you were on a hunt. The first time you ran into them was when they barged into the farmhouse that you were staking out for a nest of vampires. They went in, guns blazing, and you cursed them out under your breath as you hurriedly left the hiding spot you were in and rushed into the nest to help them clean out. 

It was safe to say that they were surprised and confused by your anger when you guys had killed all of the vamps. You didn’t recognize them at first when they first ran into the farmhouse, but now that you were standing there and really looking at them, you instantly knew that these were the infamous Winchester brothers you’d heard from Bobby and other hunters.  

Regardless of who they were, you were furious that they had messed up the hunt that you were on, and they were on the receiving end of your fury while they looked at you dumbfounded. After you were done yelling at them, you left the farmhouse fuming and decided to leave them with the cleanup job. 

The brothers were so confused by you that they didn’t even think to ask for your name. They also were slightly scared by your fury, and they failed to realize that you clearly knew who they were, but they had no idea who you were, only that they had taken over your hunt and were really mad about it. Dean only hoped that he wouldn’t run into you ever again. 

But as fate was a fickle thing, you would run into the brothers on your next hunt in a small town in Oregon, where a witch was terrorizing the men of the town, and it just so happened that you had arrived at the station the same time they did. You had to play along with them until you got the information you needed, and then when you tried to leave the station before them, a hand slammed your door before you could get into your car. 

You turned around to be met with emerald green eyes filled with irritation and thinly veiled curiosity. 

“Did you need something Winchester?” You said with a scowl etched into your face. 

Dean scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Yeah, answers. Who the hell are you?” 

“What’s it matter to you?” 

“Because you’re a hunter and we could use some help on this case.” Sam interjected, and your eyes were ripped away from the man in front of you. You almost forgot about the taller Winchester that was lingering behind Dean. 

You raised an eyebrow at Sam while Dean’s head jerked over his shoulder and glared at his brother. Sam stared back at his brother with raised brows, sending him a look that said, ‘What? It doesn’t hurt to ask.’ 

“I don’t think your brother here is keen on working with me.” 

“You’re damn right I’m not. You went off on us for no reason and left us to clean up.” 

You couldn’t help but smirk at the thought of them cleaning up the plethora of severed heads and bodies from that farmhouse. But you ignored Dean's words as you contemplated the offer Sam was proposing. 

“Fine I’ll help, but you’ll have to follow my lead on this one.” 

Sam nodded, agreeing with you, and sent you a dimpled smile. 

Dean opened his mouth to protest but was cut off by you slicing the air with your hand in front of his face. 

“Zip it Winchester, either you listen to me or I leave you high and dry on this hunt.” You waved around the copy of the case file that you convinced the Sheriff to give you before leaving the station. 

Dean all but glared at you and stomped towards the black Chevy Impala that was parked down the street. You couldn’t help but smirk at Dean’s grumpy attitude, and Sam told you which motel they were staying in and followed them to it. 

With three heads instead of one (more like two since Dean barely did any research and stuck you and Sam with it), you guys found the witch in no time and disposed of her swiftly. You had to admit that working with the brothers was more manageable than working on your own. But you knew that this had to be a one-off occurrence because you had heard about all of the craziness that surrounded the Winchesters. You were not keen on being pulled into any of it. 

Once the hunt was over, Sam gave you his number and told you to call if you needed help or vice versa. You took it to be polite, but you knew that you weren’t going to call them unless your life depended on it. The three of you went your separate ways before Destiny decided to play her games, and somehow, you ended up working on most of the hunts the brothers were working on. 

It’s like some higher power wanted you to work the Winchesters against your better wishes. Alas, you ended up working with them every time because you couldn’t resist Sam Winchester’s pleading puppy dog eyes. But you got on quite well with Sam, and he slowly became a good friend of yours. 

But your relationship with Dean, on the other hand… Well, let’s just say you had a mutual hatred for each other. You guys practically fought like cats and dogs anytime you interacted, and the two of you couldn’t help but let snide comments leave your lips each time the other was wrong or messed up. Both of you bickered like an old married couple that should have divorced a long time ago, so much so that Sam had to be the mediator constantly if you were to work with the brothers. If he hadn’t, he wasn’t sure if you were either going to throw a punch or fuck each other. 

Dean Winchester is an incredibly infuriating man, and you hated that you found him attractive. It wasn’t lost on you that both of the brothers were hot, like they should be on the cover of a magazine hot, but there was something about Dean that drew you to him more. You didn’t want him to know that, so you hid your attraction for him through your sarcastic demeanor. Eventually, Sam had enough of your bickering that held so much sexual tension that he locked the two of you in the motel room he and Dean were sharing until the two of you could have a civil conversation. 

Sam had left the two of you for a couple of hours. He was half expecting to find the two of you naked in Dean’s bed, but when he unlocked the door, he saw the two of you on separate beds and watching a random movie that was playing on the TV in the room.

In the time that Sam was gone, you guys had bickered and gotten in each other’s faces, but you eventually admitted that it was tiring to keep up the fact that you didn’t exactly hate Dean since the moment you met him and to your surprise, he admitted the same thing. After that, you guys sat on separate beds, finding some common ground between the two of you, and watched whatever was on the TV. 

After that incident, the two of you still argued like a married couple, but there wasn’t any heat behind your words, and it turned into friendly banter between you and the older Winchester. Months went by, and you found yourself as the unofficial third partner to the brothers, accompanying them on the majority of the hunts that they picked up.  

You didn’t know how it happened, but to your utter shock and horror, along the way of becoming friends with Dean Winchester, you developed feelings for him. Of course, you had no idea when you started to feel like this around Dean. Sam was perceptive, caught onto your change in behavior, and had basically interrogated you when he saw you glare at the woman Dean decided to take home that night, trying to ignore the stinging sensation in your chest as he left the bar the three of you were at. 

You had vehemently denied that you felt anything for Dean, but all Sam said in response was a shit-eating grin and gave you a look that said, ‘Yeah, you’re lying, and I know it.’ 

Once Sam had figured out that you liked his brother, he stopped at nothing to leave the two of you alone in hopes that you’d put on your big kid pants and admit your feelings towards him (spoiler alert, you never did). As much as you loved Sam, you honestly wanted to punch him in the face every time he urged you to tell Dean about your feelings. 

You knew that Dean wasn’t a touchy-feely kind of guy, and you definitely knew that he wasn’t one for love or relationships, as evident with the women he picked up at bars after successful hunts. Did your heart clench any time you saw the satisfied smirk on his face the morning after the night out at the bar? You wouldn’t admit it to anyone but yourself, but yeah, it did. 

Now, after a successful hunt, you and the Winchesters found yourselves at the bar across the street from the motel you were staying in. The three of you were at a booth at the corner of the bar, and you had gotten the first round of drinks for each of you. But when Dean volunteered to grab the third round (Sam had gotten the second one), Sam said he was turning in for the night and shot you a sly smile, and you knew exactly what he meant by it. You glared at him briefly before telling him goodnight through gritted teeth (Dean had seen this interaction between you and his brother and was confused by it but brushed it off).

Sam left, and Dean turned to you. “Still want a drink?” He asked. 

You nodded in response, and Dean shot you a small smile before his knuckles knocked on the table, and he made his way toward the bar. A couple of minutes had passed, and Dean wasn’t back from the bar. You looked up from your empty glass to see him being chatted up by a woman dressed to the nines, and clearly, Dean was into her. 

You let out a harsh breath before shaking your head, getting up from the booth, heading to the opposite side of the bar Dean was at, and ordering a vodka soda. You downed in quickly and told the bartender to keep the drinks coming. You didn’t know how many you had until you heard a gruff voice telling the bartender to give you water instead of another drink. You could vaguely recognize Dean’s voice through your drunken haze. 

You turned around in your seat to see Dean right next to you with furrowed brows. “You alright there, kid?” 

Dean hadn’t seen you this drunk before, so he was half concerned but also half amused by the cute pout you had on your face. 

“M’not a kid.” You slurred out, irritated. You hated the nickname that Dean had given you; you weren’t much younger than Dean, you were the same age as Sam. 

“Then why are you pouting like you didn’t get the candy you asked for?” Dean asked, his tone amused. 

You couldn’t help but scowl at him and look around for the woman he was talking to earlier. “Where’s the girl-*hiccup* you were talking to?” You questioned, dazed. 

Dean’s face had scrunched up. “Turns out she plays for the same team.” He muttered lowly, but you managed to hear it through the bar chatter. 

You couldn’t help but burst out in drunken giggles at Dean’s failed attempt to take someone home. Dean looked at you, slightly embarrassed, but couldn’t help but smile at the sound of your laughter. 

“Okay, we should probably get you back to your room.” Dean coaxed you off of the bar stool you were sitting on before paying for the tabs and leading you out of the bar. Dean had tucked you into his side as you walked on wobbly legs across the street to the motel. 

Once you reached your room (which was coincidentally right next to the boys’ room). Dean asked where you had your key. You were leaning into Dean, so his question was spoken into your ear quietly, and it sent a shiver down your spine. 

“M’back pocket.” You mumbled out. 

You didn’t see this as your eyes were closed as you rested your head against his shoulder, but his eyes widened at the realization that he’d have to grab it from your jeans pocket. 

“If you remember this in the morning, please don’t punch me, I swear I wasn’t trying to cop a feel.” He had muttered something else under his breath, but you were too out of it to notice what he said. 

Dean managed to get your room key out of your pocket and unlocked your door. He led the two of you inside, and when you saw your bed, you quickly ripped yourself from Dean’s embrace and fell face-first into bed, uncaring if you were still in jeans. 

Dean chuckled at you, and you looked up at him with a pout. “Are you laughing at me?”  

He shook his head, trying to stifle his amusement. “No, of course not.” 

You squinted suspiciously at him before sitting up and pawing at your combat boots. You were fumbling with the laces until you felt a warm hand cover yours. You looked up and found Dean kneeling on the floor in front of you. You couldn’t help but stare at him as he untied your boots for you and pulled them off of your feet. 

“You’re pretty.” You couldn’t help but blurt out drunkenly. 

Dean laughed, his green eyes sparkling with mirth. “Maybe I should get you drunk often, maybe you’ll compliment me more.” He sent you one of his smug smirks before standing up and heading toward the small kitchenette in your room.

He filled a glass with water before heading to the bathroom. He grabbed some aspirin that was stored in the medicine cabinet (you had no idea that he knew where you stored your painkillers). He came over to the bed with the water and painkillers and set them on the nightstand.

As he was bustling around your room, you had managed to wiggle off your jeans and get underneath the covers of the bed.  You looked at Dean underneath the warm lighting of the lamp that illuminated the room. His freckles were prominent in this lighting, and you couldn’t help but stare at his side profile. 

Dean noticed your intense gaze on him and smirked down at you after setting the water and aspirin on your nightstand. “See something you like?” He gently teased. Dean felt his hand twitch, trying to resist the temptation to brush back the stray hairs on your forehead. 

“Mhm, I like your face.” You smiled in a drunken bliss before your eyes fluttered. “I like you a lot actually.” You said before you felt the pull of sleep tug at your eyes. 

Your eyes shut, and your breathing evened out as you succumbed to sleep, leaving Dean standing in shock next to you. He looked down at your sleeping form before shaking his head. He’d deny the fact he felt his heartbeat quicken at your drunken admission. Dean quickly left your room and entered his shared room with Sam. 

Lucky for him, Sam was sound asleep in his bed, and Dean quickly got ready for bed, trying to ignore the fact you may or may not have shared the same feelings as he did. 

You woke up with a groan. Your head was pounding. You saw through your bleary eyes that there were some painkillers left out with a glass of water right next to them on your nightstand. You sat up as quickly as you could and grabbed the things off the nightstand. You downed some of the water before taking the aspirin and then drinking the rest of the water. 

You put the glass back on the nightstand before crawling back under the covers, wanting to let the ache in your head subside slightly before getting ready for the day. But fate was not on your side because pounding came from your door, making pain shoot through your head, and Dean waltzed into your room with a bag of food and a wide smirk on his face. 

“Rise and shine, kid!” He said enthusiastically. 

You shot up from your spot on the bed and glared at him. “I hate you. And stop calling me kid.” 

“Well, that’s not what you said last night.” Dean smirked knowingly. 

Your heart dropped to your stomach; what the hell did you say last night? “What do you mean?” 

Dean placed the food on the table before leaning on its edge. “Do you not remember what you said last night?” 

You shook your head. “Nope. Last thing I remember was you leading me out of the bar.” 

Dean's smirk faltered. He wasn’t expecting that. “You don’t remember anything at all after that?” 

“No. Why did I say anything important?” 

Dean cleared his throat, trying to seem nonchalant and hide what he was actually feeling. He shook his head. 

“Uh, no. But I got you some grub, we’re gonna head out in 30 so be ready then.” He said stiffly before leaving the room. Not looking at you once before the door closed with a click. 

You stared at the door, confused. That was probably the most awkward Dean had ever been around you. But you shook it off and decided to pack up and eat the breakfast Dean got you. 

You’d figure out what you said to Dean later. 

[neo-my-geo]

So @pinapin and I were talking about what would happen if you wrote a fic using a D20 to determine the outcomes of everything that a character attempts to do, and it snowballed into a full blown D&D fantasy AU

Race/class details below the cut!

Scout - half-orc/way of the drunken bonk master monk

Soldier - human/genie warlock

Pyro - ???/dragonblood sorcerer

Demo - triton/war wizard-fighter multiclass

Heavy - dwarf (with gigantism)/glory paladin

Engie - needs no introduction/artillerist artificer

Medic - vampire/order of the profane soul blood hunter

Sniper - human/sniper (tf2)

Spy - changeling/soulknife rogue

(ft. original scrapped soldier sheet; yes, Merasmus is his patron)

(and also ft. other sketches)

ignore the drow, this isn't about him

[planetdream]

AN EVENING IN THE WOODS !

CHARACTERS ! werewolf!bang chan, human!reader

GENRE ! horror/thriller but barely, smut [minors dni]

WORDS ! 3.3k

SYNOPSIS ! on a drunken game night, you're dared to take a little stroll through the woods after rumors of a werewolf lurking through the town.

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! more thriller than horror i think. mentions of alcohol. being chased/stalked; mentions of being 'kept'. reader desc. wearing long skirt + called 'good girl'. smut [dubcon(?)—reader is basically being used. d/s dynamics—predator versus prey. possessiveness. [rough] sex in the woods. monsterfucking ig. large cock channie <3. pussy eating. facefucking. cumplay + creampie. belly bulge oops. dumbification(?) growling..] used the word 'beast' a lot oops. it gets weird idk

💌 ngl...i think i forgot how to write smut u guys... this is partially inspired by a brief part in house of leaves by mark z. danielewski, but like, not really at all iykyk. anyway, as u kno, i always appreciate feedback <3

There’s a big difference between vampire hunters and werewolf hunters. The creatures are different from each other in both ferocity and nature; thus, the study and hunt of them will differ based on several factors. Hunters of said creatures are expected to know what to do in situations in which they are faced with such foul beasts. You, quite frankly, are neither a vampire nor a werewolf hunter. Inexperienced to the point where you couldn’t begin to imagine what you would do if faced with anything that is such a monstrous terror, let alone a werewolf. Yet, here you are, prancing around the cold forest like a delicious piece of meat, praying that you don’t cross paths with anything—man or beast.

About a month ago, men and women alike began disappearing from town in the late hours of the night, not to be seen or heard from again. In the following weeks, numbers of missing people have only risen, leading many to believe that there might be a serial killer on the loose. That, however, was only until word got around that a town drunkard had seen what he could only describe as a ‘terrifyingly large rabid dog’. ‘It had to be about six feet tall just standing there’, he said, swearing solemnly, even vowing to quit drinking in an effort to portray his seriousness. The man wept, “It was one of them werewolves. I swear by it.” 

Only from there did word travel through the town. Though, no one believed the drunk old man, laughing at his testimony—‘A werewolf? In this town? That’s impossible’—some treating it as some fable, or a game, even. Which is what leads to you, alone, in the woods tonight. A fun game of truth or dare with your friends—being a chronic truth picker, tonight (with a little liquid courage) you decide that you want nothing but to humor your associates, you chose dare—turns into you blindly making your way into the dark forest with nothing but a lamp, pocket knife, and a few neon stickers to help you make your way back; and that’s only if you’re not murdered. 

By the looks of it, the surrounding forest is empty. The only sounds come from the rustling of tree leaves mingling together due to the wind, the sounds of birds squawking in the far distance, and the snapping and crunching of twigs and leaves beneath your shoes. You trek your way through the trees and dirt extremely unnerved. Nothing has happened at all, and although you’re thankfully still alive and breathing, making your way through the clutter of trees and dead wood, you cannot help but be a bit frightened about the dreariness and uncertainty of the situation. 

It’s a cold night, predicted to snow a bit; temperature dropping lower and lower with each hour that falls. The sun had set a while ago and the purple-orange hue leftover has now faded from blue into black. And while the stars are beginning to show themselves—pristine and beautiful—the dark sky only adds to the dreariness of your walk through the forest. The sudden additional silence is eerie, nature has stilled completely. Although the echo of stillness is inexplicable, unusual; it comforts you—knowing that you would hear your assailant coming, should you come close to being attacked. 

When looking at your watch, you find that you’ve only been in the forest for fifteen of the required thirty minutes—it’s very possible that you can go the distance, turning on your heels and deciding to make your fifteen minute walk back to the edge of the dark forest; and most importantly, to safety. After all, your friends must be worried about you by now; maybe even surprised that you’ve really stuck to the dare. In a matter of minutes, this will be all over and you will be resting at home.

You had to have been walking in one straight direction, right? Maybe because it’s dark, and you, admittedly, have drunk quite a bit, but the placemarkers you remember sticking to the trees along your path are nowhere to be found. The light of your lamp shines against tree after tree, but they remain in their natural state, unchanged. Your eyes widen, heartbeat increasing as you look at the leftover placemarkers you hold in your hand, only six remaining of your original twenty—so you know you’ve used them. 

You stop in your tracks, not willing to venture any further than you already have. Mind racing, scanning and assessing all the possible things you can do, slowly slipping into a panic. You could scream as loud as you can, vocally expressing your need for rescue; but how likely is it that you’ll be heard, especially given how deep into this unchanging landscape you are. Perhaps you can continue walking ahead, only praying that you make your way out unharmed—after all, safety should have been just a fifteen minute walk ahead.

As you lift your foot a few centimeters off of the ground to make your first step, through the darkness of the forest and out of your peripherals, you swear you see a large shadow for just a split second—lurched over and next to a thick tree to your right. A chill runs down your spine and you shudder as you realize the presence of this creature; intimidating and dominant. Taking no chances, feet hitting the ground hard as you sprint through the woods, doing your best to escape this nightmare; real or otherwise. 

The action of running when you feel like you’re being chased, versus running because you are being chased, are quite similar. It’s all instinct, a gut feeling that you jump on, increased heart rate; it’s choosing to flee rather than to fight. The difference, in this moment, you realize, is the definite risk of getting caught. The consequences could prove to be unsatisfactory, at the very least, if you were to be caught by whatever it is that may be following after you. Although, looking behind, there’s nothing in sight—no sign of disaster nor danger. You continue along, albeit a lot slower than before, attempting to catch your breath a bit. Walking off trail just a bit to slow down and assess your next course of action. 

The snapping of a twig within your vicinity has you darting from the temporary hiding place. However, the predator is right on your trail, persisting in its hunt for flesh. You weave your way through the woods, brain firing off about escaping quickly without harm. The chase does not last long, though. One misstep taking you down, tumbling. Briefly, in your panic, you appear to meet eyes with the foul beast. Fear lodged in your throat, dry and brittle—crumbling into tiny little pieces that pester your insides like a million tiny beetles finding a dark, cavernous home. Stomach clenching, seizing as you cower in submission to your terror. Hands buried into the freshly fallen snow—previous footsteps already blanketed over and long gone. Never have you thought you would give up so easily; unsure if you’ve got it within you to fight back in the absolute worst case. 

Body stuck in place, paralyzed with fear once you hear the snow behind you crunch, a sign that the creature is inching closer to you. It’s like your life flashes before your eyes once you feel the snout of the creature pressed against the back of your neck, heat blowing against the back of your neck, followed by a short, deep snarl emitting from within the beast. The large presence behind you is undeniable. The way the creature towers over you is horrifying—a domineering and overbearing sense of power, exuding pride and strength in the form of body heat. It circles you, though you are too terrified to look towards it, despite the daring growl it emits. Heart racing, nearly about to jump out of your chest and run away itself. The creature begins to circle around you, and out of the corner of your eye you can see its feet—huge black paws. Oh great! You’ll be eaten alive. 

But then the feet of the beast turns into man, and slowly you raise your face to get a good look at its true face. He starts off as a blur initially, but the longer you look at him, the more recognizable he becomes. A face you’ve always seen lurking around town. Though despite the area being rather small, you’ve never formally interacted—only stared at each other from a distance then kept it moving. Tonight, however, you finally decided to walk up to him at the local bar whilst with friends, only for him to walk away without a word. ‘Oh, him? Yeah, Chan is just like that.’

“Mmm. What’s that smell?” Chan asks while humming. Arms caging you in against the tree as he presses his nose against your neck, right near a particularly sweet spot. “Smells heavenly. So sweet and delicious.” 

He continues to sniff you out, planting a small kiss to your neck before traveling lower, nose now pressed to the fabric of your clothing. Face pressed in between the valley of your breast, Chan takes a long, deep inhale. His eyes are closed as he pulls back, slightly smirking with clear contentment. Chan takes the material of your shirt pinched between his fingertips before tearing the shirt down the middle, groaning at your now exposed chest. His hands cup your tits, thumbs teasing at your nipples, as he runs his nose down the valley, before swiping back up with his tongue. 

Chan isn’t done, nose still pressed against your skin as he sinks down to his knees. Rough hands cupping your ass, squeezing, as he stops—nose pressed against your mound, breathing you in while trying to pull you closer, finally finding the source of that sweet, heavenly scent. He’s breathing heavily to the point that you can feel his hot breath against your skin through the thin material of your skirt; snarling as he takes in your scent. And he’s mumbling something down there—pussy hungry words about how fucking delectable you smell. Perfect to devour. 

Contrary to the petrifying circumstance, the rush of adrenaline you get in the moment is euphoric and exhilarating. Chan’s touch is hot against you, almost scorching, and leaves you wanting—no, needing more of him. 

He hikes up the long length of your skirt with ease, throwing your leg over his shoulder to force your hips towards his face, diving face first into your cunt. Tongue lapping up hungrily at your wetness, moaning and groaning without a care in the world as he gets the first taste of his meal. Plump lips sucking your clit, vibrating when he moans, causing you to shake and squirm, but Chan has a strong grip against you. He’s messy as he eats you—occasionally breaking free, not for air, but to spit against your cunt—as the lower half of his face is covered in your nectar; which he hopes never washes off, absolutely frenzied by your scent, cock hard and leaking cum, jumping at the thought of finally getting to fuck his cock into this sweet little cunt. 

While Chan is usually a patient man, having no problem in waiting—stalking his prey and then teasing them for hours upon hours on end—he finds himself struck with need. A particular need to feast. To fuck and destroy his prey. Days and days of stalking you, taunting you from afar, and you played right into his palm—obviously fated to be found afraid and lost, deep in his territory. It is at this point he thinks to keep you. Perhaps hide you away somewhere cold and dark where only he’d be able to find you. Keeping you bound to him until he gets sick of you—or until you cease to exist. Aching to fuck you over and over and over again until it becomes too difficult for you to even think about moving a muscle, succumbing fully to his torturous pleasure. He stops himself from thinking too far ahead all too soon, clearly entranced by the sweetness of your cunt. 

Chan springs to his feet; cock heavy, hard and curving to the right, tip swelling red with need and dripping with precum. Your eyes are glued to his cock as you watch him massage his right hand over it; even in his big palms his cock is huge. The excitement to take him spreads from the pit of your stomach and up your chest, visualizing into the form of goosebumps all over your arms. He just laughs at the look on your face; how equally intrigued and dismayed you appear. A perfect little lamb stalked and caught by the big bad wolf, unable to flee due to their own fascination despite their fright. 

Chan leans in, his lips against yours briefly. A hand curling into your hair to bring you down to your knees, you follow suit. His hand stays tangled in your hair, pulling harshly against your scalp. With his other hand, Chan strokes his cock, running his thumb over the tip; then pulling your head towards his tip. Eagerly, your tongue slips from your mouth, ready to taste everything he’s giving you. You swirl your tongue around him, but Chan has other plans, slowly sliding his cock into your mouth; helping you savor the slightly salty taste of his seed. Fixing your mouth open as wide as it can go, with both hands now tangled into your hair, he thrusts his cock in and out of your mouth, slowly increasing the speed of his thrust. 

“You just take it like a good girl, huh?” You don’t say anything, but that dazed look in your eye and the moan that escapes from deep in your throat tells Chan all he needs to know. 

“Perfect little mouth, but I bet that pussy is even better.” Chan frees his cock from your mouth with a trail of spit. His hand around his cock once again, the slick sound like music to your ears. Though, it’s at this point that the cold air is starting to get to you—the snow is light but still continuous—yet you power through it for just another taste of Chan. 

“Want you so bad,” You bite your lip, looking into his eyes, eyebrows furrowed together. You stand and stretch to turn your back to him, looking over your shoulder as you wiggle your backside towards him like a bitch in heat. Chan smirks at you, a small laugh erupting from him at the sight of your shamelessness.   

In the heat of the moment, Chan licks the palm of his hand before bringing it down to rub at your cunt from behind. He doesn’t say anything, but you can hear a long, deep snarl come from within his chest. The closer he gets to you, the louder the growl echoes, and the more he warms you with his body heat—caging you in against the tree. You grind into his hand, greedily taking anything he gives you. While Chan is steadily becoming just as impatient as you, he always spares time to play with his food; teasing the tip of his cock against your slit. Chan slowly slides into your cunt—a rough hand clenching onto your hip, nails digging into your skin; not nearly enough to keep him from losing his cool as your wetness encases his cock, wet and tight. 

You’re barely taking half of his dick before the stretch of it nearly becomes too much—but he’s one step ahead of you; arm snakes across your belly and down to your cunt, two wet fingers ready to play with your clit. Chan works his fingers against your clit slowly winding you up, all while planting a quick kiss against your shoulder; tongue drooling out to lick a long wet stripe against your neck. It’s only once he receives a moan from you in response that he starts thrusting into you slowly; the thrusts of his hips syncing with the movement of his fingers. 

It isn’t long before you’re taking more and more of his cock, being stuffed and stretched deliciously. Cunt leaking and begging for more of him. Chan lets out these harsh growls and grunts that contrast with the pitch of your moans. His nails dig into your hips, using a minimal amount of strength to pull your hips back against him, making you meet his thrusts. His hips smack against your ass roughly, cock stretching you further, but your cunt swallows every inch perfectly. That’s only until he slides out of you, wordless, yet, still letting out a snarl. He pushes you onto the ground, hands and knees crashing into the new layers of snow. You yelp out in response, but Chan can only laugh at you. 

“Just letting me push you around like this? I think I should keep you,” He follows you, kneeling onto the ground, cock in hand. Laying  a quick smack at your ass, he hums. “How would you feel about being my little plaything, huh?”

His free hand kneads against your ass while he plays with his cock. “Keep you locked up with me ‘n only let you out in these woods at night, hmm? All cute ‘n naked for me to hunt down and fuck again.”

“And you can’t even hide cause I’ll always find you, pretty.” He finally slides into your cunt, still not letting you have all of him, yet. “How does that sound? Do you like it?”

His words are filthy and so are his touches but somehow he’s got you entranced. You let out a loud, cracked sob of a yes in response to his inquiries as if he bullied it out of you. “Good girl.” 

Chan finally allows himself to break—hips snapping harshly into yours. Not caring if you go limp from the way he’s fucking into you, instead his hands are once again clenching your hips, grinding his hips against your ass whenever he thrusts his cock back into you. Your fists clutching onto the snow as you take his cock, unable to do much but drool and mewl for him. 

He presses his chest across your back, caging you onto the cold ground. His tongue once again flat against your skin, licking every inch of what exposed skin he has access to. Still pounding into you as he chases his impending orgasm. Then he sinks his teeth into the skin of your shoulder, letting out a whine rather than the usual growl as he fucks his cum into you. It’s hot, sticky, and heavy—and it seems like it’s unending; seemingly producing more and more as he pumps his cock into you. Slowly Chan reaches a hand down to press against your lower abdomen; feeling how your belly swells with all the cum his cock is feeding your cunt. 

You moan at the feeling when Chan pulls out of you with a sigh of exhaust. Cum coating his cock and spilling out of your cunt, staining your thighs. So much of his seed has spilled out and he’s no longer stuffing you with his cock, but yet you feel so full. Chan continues to incite, two thick fingers dip into your cunt to scoop up and play with the excess cum that’s dripping from your hole. 

Chan pulls you back to him by your arms, caging you against his chest. He whispers to you. “What if we played a fun little game, hm?”

He grips your chin and those same two digits that were once inside of you, force into your mouth, offering you another taste of Chan’s cum. There’s a hint of a smile in his voice, “Let’s say, I give you a ten second head start to run.”

Chan kisses the back of your neck and a chill runs down your spine. “The ten seconds start now.” 

He frees you from his hold, and springs to his feet leaving you dumbfounded. But by the time you stand and face the direction of Chan, legs weak and cold, he’s no longer there.

It seems his fun little game has officially started. 

© PLANETDREAM 2024

[vampires-and-dhampirs]

Nameless OC

They/Them

2nd gen dhampir

Lives in the family manor with other creatures because it's a safe house for some

Pretty young, like 500

Sweet as pie

Likes braiding D's hair

[dead-dolphins]

Deaddolphins fics projects 2025

Dear Reader,

I’m excited to share this with you, where I’ll be posting about the projects I’m dreaming of bringing to life next year. Consider this a “spread of aspirations” rather than a fixed schedule—none of these fics have set publication dates, and they’re all in various stages of planning.

That said, there’s one tradition you can always expect from me: a special fic or an update on July 11th, my birthday. It’s something I look forward to every year, and I hope you do too!

For now, I’d love to give you a sneak peek into what I’ve been brainstorming. Let’s dive into these ideas and see where inspiration takes us!

𝐌𝐫. 𝐒𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫

➷Two chapters fic. ➷Themes: obsessive love, personal growth, social power dynamics, perseverance, morality and boundaries. ➷Tropes: age gap, slow burn, reluctant guardian, coming of age, one-side pining. ➷Setting: Sort of New York in 1920s

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐤𝐞

➷One shoot. ➷Themes: revenge and redemption, power and betrayal, moral ambiguity, deception and manipulation, unlikely alliances. ➷Tropes: female fatale, enemies to lovers, older woman/younger man ➷Setting: Sort of Shanghái in 1920s

𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐅𝐮𝐫𝐬

➷Three chapters. ➷Themes: one-sided love, perseverance, fate & free will, fake religions ➷Tropes: fated mates, alpha chasing omega, slow burn, enemies-to-lovers?, stubborn omega, protective alpha, emotional vulnerability. ➷Setting: desert lands

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

➷Two chapters. ➷Themes: obsessive love, miscommunication, power dynamics, loyalty & betrayal. ➷Tropes: childhood friends to lovers, mad king trope, reluctant lover, protector complex, emotional walls, slow burn. ➷Setting: medieval

𝐍𝐨𝐬𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐮

➷One shoot. ➷Themes: eternal love, fate & destiny, sacrifice, forbidden love. ➷Tropes: fated mates, reincarnation, star-crossed lovers, forbidden love (vampire and vampire hunter), destined bride, slow burn. ➷Setting: mix of baroque and rococo era

𝐌𝐲 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝 𝐁𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

➷One shoot. ➷Themes: unspoken emotions, self-deception, longing and regret, missed opportunities. ➷Tropes: fuck buddies, mutual pining, emotional baggage, fear of vulnerability, miscommunication, second chances. ➷Setting: modern

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬

Not a new fic per se, but some things you should expect. ➷Coming soon: betrayals, war, blood & violence, depiction of violence, dreams. ➷Chapters of interest: The Conciliator, The Black Phoenix and the Gold, Queen Mother, The Children.

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐇𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲

➷Coming soon: scandals, jealousy, first date, kisses, one bed trope. ➷Tracks of interest: iv, v, vii, ix

That's all for now! As I mentioned, these are the fic ideas I'm hoping to post in 2025, at least 75% of them. But just to clarify, it doesn't mean I won’t be working on other projects—it’ll all depend on my mood and time. And once again, please note: NO fic has a set release date, and I won’t announce one until I have something solid. Let’s skip the awkward questions, yeah? :D Thank you so much for your ongoing support and for always being here! I can’t wait to share everything with you! Ro.