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jelliedink · 2 months
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Hello!
I really like your works, especially about Ancient Vampire Partner.Are you going to write about him further? If so, can you write several headcanons or a small one shot?I apologize for the mistakes (translated through a translator)
Thank you for your attention and work.
All the best ,
A charming white bat 🤍🦇
Yessss we'll have more ancient vampire content!!
I'm planning on making a series of posts about how they met reader, what's their relationship like, glimpses of their day-to-day, etc. I'll try to steer away from the headcanon format, though, because I realized my prose-writing skills declined a lot and I really want to get better at it again.
If you have any particular scenario you'd like me to write about, please, feel free to send it in!
Thank you for your interest in my works and for going through the trouble of translating this message to send it to me 💗 It makes me really happy to see other people appreciate the silly little guys my head comes up with 🥹
I hope your day is filled with everything nice 🥰
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jelliedink · 2 months
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Ok I wasn't sure if this would be my thing when the GILF conversation started but I loved this too much!
It's so amazing that Dominic's father has an actual reason (in his head) to not only resent him but want to take us away from Dominic, and it's not just "because he's a meanie who wants to compete with his son".
Also God, I'm almost forgiving the complete scoundrel of a man Dominic is because he must have suffered so much! Before GILF Headcanons I think we all just assumed he was the way he was because his father taught him that being the absolute worst was the right thing to do if he wanted to be a successful man. But like, the emotional neglect goes deep, no wonder Dominic feels nothing for his children.
I also love how fear of his father is what humanizes Dominic, because that's the only emotion that he could not suppress. I think no matter how much we grow up, it's difficult not to feel like our child selves when with our parents. I want to lay his head in my lap and run my fingers through his hair saying "my poor baby, it must have been so difficult for you, but you're safe now and we don't need to come see your father ever again". Yes, I'm that easy.
Anyway, enough rambling! Safe to say I like this way too much. ♡♡♡
Yandere! GILF Headcanons
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Warnings: Implied Smut, Older Man/Younger Reader, Age Gap, Spanking, Jealous Dominic, Manipulation, No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.
♡ Hector had only loved once before meeting you. Likewise, he had only loved once after meeting you. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t interested in you.
♡ On the contrary, when Dominic had pulled up to the sprawling manor Hector orchestrated, expecting to see Marilyn at his side yet seeing an unfamiliar face in her stead, his curiosity was, admittedly, peaked. No small achievement considering this man has done and seen everything this world has to offer.
♡ Dominic explained – in monotone French – that Marilyn was sick, hence she couldn’t come. He’d brought you – a family friend – in her place. You couldn’t ignore the waver in his voice, his pointed stare up at his father, who resided in an almost throne-like armchair behind a mahogany desk.
♡ Hector looked through Dominic and gazed at you. You could see now where Dominic’s predilection for sharp, underhanded stares originated; the founding father of Dominic’s cold architecture.
♡ You felt as if his eyes combed over your very being, unravelling all the tangles in your make-up and laying you down to your most base, threadbare foundations, seeing you for what you really were.
♡ “Very well,” the older man grumbled, only taking his eyes off you once Dominic cleared his throat. Beside you, his son’s fingers twitched. 
♡ You were excused shortly after with Dominic taking you outside, almost jogging down the steps with a haste you’d never witnessed before, and bringing you to a most isolated spot. You’d noticed a collection of staff – chefs, maids, caretakers, gardeners – crawling about the mansion. None of them resided near you now.
♡ “Don’t talk to him unless you’re with me,“ Dominic warned. In his eyes watched a man you’d never seen before. Something vaguely…human in the colour of his irises. Warm. Afraid.
♡ Interaction with Dominic’s father – Hector – was uncomfortable at first. You’d tried to juggle Hector’s hostile hospitality with Dominic’s warnings, ultimately toing and forming between the two since they never inhabited the same space for more than ten minutes whenever meals were served.
♡ One day, when Dominic had to leave the manor on important  business, unable to take you with him, he’d instructed you to stay in your room. He tried to smooth over the jagged brickwork of his command with a suave charm that could put the incarnation of panic at ease, but you could tell – for perhaps the first time – that it felt false.
♡ Dominic left. Hours passed. You grew bored.
♡ You left your room.
♡ And who did you happen to meet whilst trawling the halls, searching for any form of entertainment?
♡ Why, the very man Dominic had forbidden you from seeing.
♡ Hector came down the hall on certain footing, obviously having taken great care of his mobility in his younger years to be able to traverse the many staircases and rooms this residence held. So why did he have so many caretakers?
♡ You scarcely had time to wonder as, before you could hide, he spotted you. Ordered you to come to him. You did, hesitant. He gave you a monotone look.
♡ “You. Come with me.”
♡ You followed him to a door that felt familiar. Inside, his study. On his desk, a pre-set game of chess. He sat at his desk. He motioned for you to join him.
♡ You, with a pounding heart and a strong sense of being out of place, played chess. Hector taught you the best way to win – “For when you compete against Dominic.”
♡ You bantered, lethargic at first, until you found even footing on subjects that weren't just Hector’s only son.
♡ You wondered what it was about his father that Dominic was so keen to isolate you from, to conceal from you.
♡ Nothing you cared for, honestly. Especially when Hector showed you just how solid his sense of humour was, how intelligent he was. How lively he could be despite his initial coldness.
♡ Of course, he was still icy, very blunt most of the time. But you could tell it wasn’t his choice – he was made this way. By who or what, you couldn’t be sure. But what you did know was that you weren’t about to let Dominic’s personal vendetta ruin your budding friendship with his father.
♡ No longer did you hide from Hector’s judgement as you scampered back to your room, the shutting of the front door reverberating through the manor’s great walls; you sought refuge from Dominic’s as he came storming down the hallway, his footfalls faster than he’d have liked them to be as he rushed to check on your condition, to see you after being forced to leave you in his father’s un-care.
♡ After that, you made more of an effort to see Hector. Especially as you had few other people to talk to – Dominic especially as he seemed more and more swept up in sudden business meetings and last-minute supply chain issues.
♡ The longer you spent in Hector’s presence – in the garden, in the library, in his study for more games of chess – the more you began to see slivers of him in Dominic. Scratchings of silver beneath rock; the inclinations of a vein of purest ore.
♡ Though, that did not mean the metal that lay dormant beneath was pure in itself.
♡ On the contrary, when you weren’t around, Hector made full – and I mean full – use of the maids, caretakers and staff at his disposal. Anyone who bore a similar enough resemblance to you was subject to any manner of his objectification.
♡ Lasting stares, increasingly lewd requests, commands to snoop through the few personal belongings you’ve brought with you – the sort of thing any powerful older man will do for the object of their affections.
♡ Sexual matters aren’t off the table, either.
♡ Far from it. 
♡ In fact, it’s bent over the edge of Hector’s desk, whining and whimpering and at the mercy of a man far more experienced than his old age could belie.
♡ He’s so nasty with it, too. He knows his workers will do anything he asks of them – for the right price. And he’s got nothing but money to burn.
♡ God forbid his most recent toy talks back to him, lest they be subject to a thorough spanking by Hector’s belt.
♡ He’s still more than capable of getting himself off without the assistance of his employees, though. He just enjoys the power he has over them. Enjoys the taste of the influence he’ll have over you.
♡ Guy’s a wealthy man, he’s got cameras everywhere. And Dominic knows this. Hence he’s always around to cover you up when you’re getting changed – even if it makes him look somewhat questionable. 
♡ You’re for his eyes only, but he knows his father will find a way to try and sneak a peek of you – to show Dominic that, while in his house, you’re both under his rules.
♡ As was the case now as Hector requested for you come to his study for afternoon tea.
♡ While there, making light conversation, he dropped a question that hung, heavy, between you in a way you couldn’t quite describe/
♡ “Did I ever tell you,” began Hector, knowing full-well he’s not once recounted this tale to you. His old age will afford him the disguise of senility, if only for a short while. You’ll listen, politely.
♡ “About Dominic’s mother?”
♡ You tell him no, that not even Dominic has ever mentioned his mother – or his family – to you before. Hector hummed. Grumbled, more so.
♡ The void in his chest sank lower as he recalled to you the greatest love of his life.
♡ “Too good for this world,” he said, regaling her acts of altruism, of philanthropy. “Someone upstairs must’ve known it, too.”
♡ You had a feeling that ‘upstairs’ transcended far beyond the many dusty rooms Hector had advised you and Dominic not to go exploring during your time here.
♡ He told you, with practiced malcontent, how Dominic’s birth would be his mother’s un-birth; her escort from this life to the next. Hector sniffed, though not for tears. You still jolted forward to comfort him, though.
♡ And he wasn't one to reject your offer.
♡ The portrait of his wife – young and beautiful for a cruel infinity – watched over the two of you.
♡ “So you see,” he continued, “That’s why Dominic doesn’t visit – or I’m willing to guess, talk about – me as much as you perhaps do with your parents.”
♡ Of course, you understood perfectly where he was coming from. Something in him grinned at the idea of even a drop of a villainous hue staining Dominic’s curated disguise, making him scrub and scrub at the veneer until it wore away and revealed the corpse beneath piloted by parasites.
♡ You tell Hector that if he ever wants to talk, you’re always down to listen. Hector grants you a small smile. Artificial warmth. Gently, he slides his hand atop yours, pats it.
♡ You are the singular object his son desires. Hence, you are the object he shall steal from him, for there is no better form of discipline than loss.
♡ And Hector wants Dominic to know what it’s like to lose everything.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Yandere AI Masterlist Masterpost
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jelliedink · 2 months
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Little Revenge - Sneak Peek
Warnings: smut, pet names, older man/ younger woman Author's note: Hi babes! I know I said I'd be posting a POV of our beloved/beloathed DILF!Boss next but, to be honest, it's been more difficult than I thought it would be to get it just right. But I didn't want to keep y'all waiting for too long, so later this week I'm gonna post another DILF story that popped in my head and is pure filth. Since it's a one shot, and not a character I intend to keep writing for, it's easier to write because I don't have to think too much about consistency. Anyway, here's a sneak peek of what's to come. I hope you enjoy!
As usual, divider by @cafekitsune
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“How long are you going to tease me for?” you whined.
“But princess, you were the one who asked me to show you what it's like to be with a real man. You thought I’d just pound my dick into you mindlessly like the guys your age?” He brought his torso near you and nuzzled his face on your neck, speaking into your ears. “No, pretty, we’re going to be here for a while. I’m going to make you feel everything.” 
As he said that he leaned back again and curled the fingers that you’ve been grinding on. “Now be the good, obedient girl I know you are and fuck yourself on my hand, ok?”
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jelliedink · 2 months
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GIRL DINNER!!!! BARK BARK
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jelliedink · 2 months
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So, babes, here's the thing: since I saw a bedtime story ASMR a few weeks back I CAN NOT stop thinking about writing a piece where DILF!Boss reads a bedtime story while getting the reader off.
What do we think?
Is it a vibe??
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jelliedink · 2 months
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Hi babes 💕 I've been wanting to get better at writing characters that don't feel like the same person, so my next works will be written in the POV of our babyboys.
I'm finishing a piece in the POV of our beloved DILF Boss and hope to be able to post it soon!
Also wanted to say thank you to all of you who have read, liked and/or reblogged my works. It really means a lot to me that I can create something that people can enjoy 🥺🥺
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jelliedink · 2 months
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Forgive me Father for I have sinned ❌
Sorry daddy I've been bad ✅
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father.
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jelliedink · 2 months
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GUYS GUYS GUYS HE'S BACK AND WORSE THAN EVER! 🥺
Thank you for the meal 🛐🛐🛐🛐🛐
how about yan!dilf finding out that his darling has an onlyfans account?
Yandere DILF! Reaction to You Having an OnlyFans
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Warnings: 18+, Smut, Manipulation, Blackmail, Infidelity, Pet Names, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.
Wordcount: 4364 words
♡ Good Lord, WHO gave this man internet access.
♡ Going to keep it real with you, babe, you’re finished if he finds your OnlyFans account. And so is he (in more ways than one) – but more on that later.
♡ Let’s say Domninic’s many, many hours of internet sleuthing (stalking) have led him to the pearly gates of your Only Fans account, the only thing separating him from whatever lies on the other side being a pay wall. One of the only kinds of walls that can’t stop Dominic.
♡ Of course, he buys a subscription. Of course, he does it under an alias, through an unlisted online banking app, on a burner laptop.
♡ And, upon seeing what you’re offering, he’s glad he took so many precautions.
♡ At first, the two emotions Dominic has felt most commonly throughout his lifetime flash in his ribcage, dance along the edge of his eyelids – make his eyes grow heavy.
♡ Lust and rage.
♡ Lust for the obvious. Rage for that which shouldn’t have angered Dominic.
♡ In a lot of ways, Dominic is a traditionalist; one’s significant other is for their partner and nobody else (even if Dominic doesn’t abide by this logic himself). Thus, to see you, the person he wishes he’d married, the person he knows is fated to be his, spreading their legs for any guy with enough money to buy a coffee, mortifies him.
♡ One, because you’re his. Two, because you sell yourself for such a low price.
♡ Dominic’s too wrapped up in his wrath to see to the vague throbbing between his legs. He’ll just make it Marilyn’s problem later when she returns from book club or whatever it is she does these days – and continue to make it her problem well into the morning when she struggles to emerge from bed, her legs buckling beneath the weight of his anger.
♡ For now, he paces around his office, checks the camera inside the bear he’d given to you months before.
♡ How had he not noticed sooner? He watched the footage from that bear enough times that he can recite everything you’ve ever said, can predict everything you’re going to do, has memorised all the unconscious quirks you adopt when you think no one’s watching.
♡ Dominic comes to the conclusion that you must be conducting your business in another location. One where you won’t be so easily found.
♡ Sure, he could go out, follow you to this location when you think you’re alone. He could even pay someone else to do it. But, amidst his rage, an idea sparks.
♡ No, he has a much better, much more cunning trick up his sleeve.
♡ The next day, Dominic comes to you with an offer he knows you can’t refuse.
♡ “Marilyn and I are going out tomorrow night and we’d like for you to babysit the boys for us.”
♡ You tried to refuse. You tried to make up a reason less nefarious than the one you held in your mind as to why you couldn’t do it. And Dominic only smiled, his eyes never crinkling, the sentiment never reaching them. He looked through you.
♡ He offered to raise your pay to an amount you both couldn’t accept and couldn’t pass up.
♡ This newfound amount was, considering how few subscribers you had on OnlyFans, irresistible. A godsend, in some respects. Especially when Dominic began taking his wife out more and more frequently, needing you to care for his children more often than not.
♡ To Marilyn, Dominic was finally, finally, trying to fix their marriage. To make good on the world he’d promised her those twenty-or-so years ago when he’d imprisoned her in a loveless marriage.
♡ To you, Dominic was being an understanding neighbour who was offering you a chance at a normal living wage out of the kindness of his heart.
♡ To Dominic, it was all a ploy to get you right where he wants you.
♡ The weeks passed. Dominic kept a close eye on your OnlyFans page.
♡ It would soon be time for you to upload your newest batch of material. If you ever found the time to do so, of course. What, with all the extra work Dominic had given you, he wouldn’t be surprised if you’d forgotten. Or simply hadn’t the time.
♡ It mattered little to Dominic now. He knew he had you on the ropes.
♡ The shift from one foot to the other as he offered you yet another night to babysit his boys, only for your eyes to lower. Uneasy.
♡ You’d tried the old “I’m sorry, Mr. Laurier–”
♡ “Please, (Y/N), we’ve been over this.” He smiles down at you. “Call me Dominic.”
♡ You try again.
♡ “Dominic – I’m sorry, but I just don’t think I’ll be able to tonight–”
♡ And Dominic used the tried and tested: “Oh…is it the pay? I can pay you more, if that’s the issue–”
♡ Issue. You’re making a problem out of this, not him.
♡ You backpedal. You sigh. You try to stand your ground.
♡ Unfortunately for you, the ground you’re standing on is merely a sheet Dominic is going to pull out from under you at any moment.
♡ You tried. Really, you did. Tried to reject Dominic’s kindness.
♡ And he looks down at you. He’s too beautiful for a grimace, he knows this. He puts on a mask he’s sculpted just for this moment – the false front.
♡ “I see,” he says, his voice low. His gaze shifts off to the side. He pretends to look for the right words to say. He already has them in his back pocket.
♡ “I understand. It’s just that…well…” He sighs. Places a hand on his hip. A change in posture. Something’s shifted about him. You’re paying attention, the oncoming of regret starting to form in the pit of your stomach.
♡ Dominic looks you dead in the eyes.
♡ “Don’t…tell anyone I told you this,” he looks behind him. Turns back to you. “But, Marilyn and I don’t really trust anyone else with our babies – we only keep asking you because…well, you’re brilliant with them.”
♡ He says it like it’s common sense. Flattery is every manipulator’s best friend.
♡ He senses reservation in you. He keeps going.
♡ “And…no, forget it, it’s fine. We’ll just cancel,” he smiles down at you. This time, the smile does reach his eyes. Makes it look like he’s hiding something else. Sorrow.
♡ You gasp inwardly, you take a step towards him.
♡ “Oh, I’m sorry! No, no, I can watch them tonight. I’ll just…do my work tomorrow,”
vYou try to smile. Dominic’s becomes genuine.
♡ “You sure? We–” Marilyn and I, halve the blame– “wouldn’t want to be keeping you from anything important.”
♡ You assure him they aren’t. That he isn’t. He’s won this round.
♡ He puts his hand on your shoulder. You’ve known each other long enough now that this is no longer a gesture that would inflict upon Dominic a problem he’d be lumbered with until he can, quite literally, take it into his own hands, and that you don’t flinch beneath his touch.
♡ There will be time enough for that. He knows this.
♡ And so, Dominic leaves you with an estimation of the time of his outing and his arrival. 
♡ “We’ll be back before you know it,” he says. He smiles at you from the front door, the handle in his grip. He leaves, his victory ringing in his head, making his heart thrum.
♡ And he didn’t even need to bust out the old ‘My marriage is failing’ shtick.
♡ True to his word, Dominic and his wife leave early into the evening, a rehash of their sons’ bedtimes and snack preferences no longer necessary. Second nature to you now.
-
♡ Your work – your OnlyFans content – played on your mind for the whole evening. Time seemed to slip away and stand still – paradoxy – as you pleaded inwardly for Dominic and Marilyn to return.
♡ The hours bled into one another, tearing away from what you could have been doing instead of guarding the house while Marilyn’s children slept upstairs, for truly they were more Marilyn’s offspring than they were Dominic’s.
♡ A half hour passed. Forty-five minutes. An hour.
♡ You came to face the possibility – the likely reality – that you would simply have to announce to the few followers you had that there would be no new content this month; that you would supply them with what they paid for twice over in a few weeks’ time. And pray that you actually had an audience patient enough to outlast your absence before that.
♡ Amidst your planning of damage control, an idea poked its head from the shadows. A failsafe. A sequel to your desperation.
♡ You could always just…take a few pictures here.
♡ The idea flashed in your mind like a life alternate to your own; past, with the certainty of already having been lived. All consequences already tangible. Foreseen.
♡ Perhaps that was why the anxiety associated with such expeditions into unfamiliarity had failed to catch up with you.
♡ Or, perhaps something masked it. Desperation, or one of its subsidiaries.
♡ Of course, you tried to stifle the idea. Tried to suffocate it with the smoke through which it walked. Though, its fiery grasp had mastered the art of survival.
♡ It wouldn’t go away. Much like Dominic’s lingering gaze whenever his wife was out of eye-shot and only you remained.
♡ Ten minutes crawled by and you almost wished for the rapidity with which the last hours had passed to find you, seek you out amidst this frozen landscape Time had entombed you in.
♡ And, as is the folly of man, you entertained that which should not be. You considered the likelihood – the schematics – of indulging such a proposition.
♡ Nobody was home and the boys were asleep, out of the way. Most rooms were large enough and devoid of personality so to mask your location – especially if the Lauriers had more of the sterile white sheets they laid their bed with.
♡ Then, a memory.
♡ A basement, tucked away between the folds of your psyche as its location within the house. You recalled the couple having one – a sizable one at that – when Dominic had invited you down there with him to retrieve more seating for his lawn party.
♡ You knew where it was. Knew where the keys were kept.
♡ And so, with a hammering heart and a withering step, you sought your fortune.
♡ The keys were easily enough discovered. As was the creaking door of the basement. And, upon your descension – biblical in your visage as the light from the hallway, dim as it were, cast a glow about your silhouette amidst the depths of the basement – you found precisely what you needed.
♡ A space – clean, untouched – equipped with white sheets covering a mass of boxes. Sure, they were creased; stained with Age’s attempts at youth, gripping onto the sheets and leaving his spectral marks – wrinkles – in their cotton-thin sheets, but they were there.
♡ You cast a keen ear to the ceiling, the living room floor, every few minutes as you looked for a place to start filming, a place to lay the sheets down, something to cover your face.
♡ You find a place, retrieve a Halloween mask from one of the boxes, and, without much deliberation, begin filming.
♡ What you do is nobody’s business but your own. Well, yours and the hungry men who survey your account for any crumbs you deign to feed them.
♡ What you don’t hear through the conduct of your business is the return of the home’s owner.
♡ Dominic hung up his coat, made little show of announcing his presence, and went straight for the basement.
♡ Don’t ask how he knew you’d be there.
♡ His steps grew more deliberate, louder, the closer he grew.
♡ You didn’t even know he was home until it was too late.
♡ At the height of your percussion, just when you were about to reach the moment of your video that would make the lead up worth it, something hit the floor behind you.
♡ You jumped. Whipped round to see what had happened.
♡ And there was Dominic. Hair black as the corners of the room, eyes void of any discernible emotion as he looked down at you, arms crossed over his chest, the top of his shirt undone by two buttons, not even out of his work clothes.
♡ You fumbled, the apologies, explanations and defences lodged in your throat as you choked to get them out, slamming your thighs together and reaching for the camera in your bid to shut it down. You tore the mask from your head, revealing blushed cheeks and a light sheen of sweat forming from the neck up.
♡ Dominic made sure to stay out of the camera’s line of sight, to remain only an anonymous spectator as he circled the room. He said nothing. Did nothing. Just watched and waited, walking.
♡ It was only after he knew the camera was off, your confidence in tatters around you, that he approached.
♡ You tried explaining, but he just shushed you.
♡ “No need to explain, my Dear,” he told you. He sighed, deeply, brought the corner of his lip between his teeth. He donned the veneer of disappointment.
♡ “I suppose I’m just…shocked,” he said. He leaned against a stack of boxes, solid against his back. He ran a hand through his hair and looked off somewhere. “I never knew you were…that kind of person,”
♡ The way he said that, like it had bleached his tongue just to speak it, made your heart sink lower.
♡ “I mean, what do we do now?” He made sure he gave you an incredulous glance, feigned disappointed abashment. “I pay you to look after my sons and I find you here, doing…” He looked to the camera, briefly, then away. As if he could still see what you had done on the tiny screen attached to it.
♡ You apologised profusely, tried to defend yourself: “Mr. Laurier, please – I didn’t– I never–”
♡ He didn’t interrupt you. He let you tie yourself in knots. Like a pretty present, all for him.
♡ Once you had exhausted your ability to explain yourself, Dominic let your fear hang for a moment, let it sink before you like a darkness bowing the ceiling above you. The singular lightbulb flickered.
♡ Dominic sighed. Pushed off the boxes. Came to you.
♡ “Honestly, (Y/N), if you were that desperate for money, you could’ve just asked.”
♡ He knew that wasn’t why you were doing this. But he also knew you’d accept whatever out he gave you. You listened.
♡ “Have I not been paying you enough? Have I misvalued your capabilities for this position?”
♡ The way his eyes flickered to your locked-together legs as he said position made your skin shiver.
♡ “Or…” he looked down on you. Relaxed his posture.
♡ “Is there perhaps some other reason you chose to…conduct yourself here?”
♡ When you didn’t answer, trying to decode his crypticism, he cocked his head ever so slightly to the side.
♡ “Could it be that you…wanted me to find you like this?”
♡ You tried to deny it, tried your utmost to say you’d never do such a thing to anyone, least of all your married neighbour and employer, but Dominic would hear none of it.
♡ “I’m flattered, really.” He says. He cast his eyes down, as if mulling over a secret. “My wife and I’s deteriorating marriage must be worse than I thought if it was so apparent to you of all people.”
♡ You knew such a comment, especially under these circumstances, shouldn’t have stung the way it did. Dominic only let you ruminate on it for a moment.
♡ “Maybe you wanted to show me something you knew Marilyn couldn’t.”
♡ Your jaw dropped. Dominic came to stand behind the camera. He toyed with it, general, not looking at anything in particular. You begged that he wouldn’t find a way to review the footage.
♡ Domonic stood back, looked down at you.
♡ “How about a compromise,” he offered. You watched him, eyes wide, heart pounding, stomach churning, breath short. He gave a pale smile.
♡ “You help me burn off some of the tension I’ve had building up over the last few weeks,” his eyes darkened. “And we’ll never speak a word of what happened here tonight.”
♡ Your words caught in your throat again.
♡ You knew Dominic was attractive, sure, but to help him cheat on his wife? And one so kind and loving as Marilyn–
♡ Your head span. Dominic had thrown you a lifeline.
♡ With a sigh, you evaluated your options.
♡ Your OnlyFans rarely made enough money to keep you financially independent, even for a short while; you had more to lose if you couldn’t keep your babysitting job. And you knew there was no chance Dominic would let you babysit again if he thought this was what you’d be doing during the dark hours of the evening.
♡ And what if he told Marilyn? What if she told their neighbours, your parents–
♡ In your vulnerability, your worry for your own preservation, you quietly agreed.
♡ And besides, you rationalised with yourself as the weight of the situation, of Dominic settling behind you, sank in. Better for Marilyn that he’s doing this with me rather than someone she doesn’t know, right?
♡ Given your bottom half was already bare, Dominic didn’t have to waste time undressing you himself. Though, under any other circumstances, he’d have jumped at the privilege.
♡ He’d often dreamed of this entire process being slower, gentler, and in the comfort of a bed in some lush space – usually a hotel. Not the sheet-covered ground of his cold basement.
♡ That evening, the mask Dominic wore was that of the common thief, for from you he stole your dignity. Your future.
♡ What you hadn’t realised was, as Dominic had been stood by the camera, he’d set it to record. Premeditated.
♡ You didn’t question why he pulled the mask from beside you onto his head. You just assumed, in your post-panic haze, that this was something he was into. Something he hid from Marilyn.
♡ Dominic still wore his work pants and had them pulled down to the bottom of his thighs. He’d also done away with his shirt from what you could feel of his skin; he radiated heat like you’d never felt before, even when you’d been in close proximity to him prior to this.
♡ You didn’t even have chance to think of much, to let the guilt and abashment of this whole situation weigh in on you as, with Dominic’s hands about your waist as if to steady you, he pushed in, filling you by an inch or two. 
♡ You were easy to penetrate given your recent activity, but that only served to quell the stretch by a slight margin. You gasped, jolted, and Dominic’s grip about your middle tightened. He pulled you back, inadvertently pushing more of himself into you. You bit your lip, trying not to enjoy the mortifying implications of this entire affair, the feeling of being filled by the man who held your future in his hands.
♡ He was, regardless of whether you’d done this before, nothing like you’d ever experienced. He alternated between being gentle and rough, eventually lodging himself inside you entirely and guiding you up and down his shaft at a rate that suggested patience. Just a minute later, he’d pick up the pace, pulling out and slamming back in, pushing you down so he could reach the deeper parts of you.
♡ And all the while, you could feel a tightness below your stomach. One which, to your panic, strengthened whenever you considered that you were helping a married man cheat on his wife, that your situation was buried beneath so many layers of complexity you feared you’d never see the light of clarity again.
♡ A married man. One who, if his soft touches and stifled moans were anything to go by, held rather a fondness for you in this moment.
♡ Dominic didn’t talk at all throughout the entire encounter, opting only to communicate with an occasional squeeze to your thighs, reaching around to your front to touch you in ways that had you whining and crying, and tugs to your hair whenever you tried to hide your face in your hands.
♡ The whole sordid affair hadn’t unfolded exactly how Dominic had wished – dreamed – it would.
♡ In his dreams, it had been gentler – consistently so. More private. Though, no less taboo.
♡ Now, he was harsher. Rough, though not enough to hurt you. Just enough to make sure you felt every inch of him; just what these subscribers of yours would pay to see.
♡ Dominic pressed close to you as the camera recorded, your face exposed for whoever came into possession of the video to see.
♡ Of course, so long as you remained an obedient little pet, Dominic would never have to release it to anyone.
♡ The transaction, one which left you breathless and sweltering, finished only when Dominic did. He made sure you were satiated, too, something to think about over the coming weeks as you curated more content for your subscribers, every moment no doubt a reminder of your encounter with him.
♡ Afterwards, he removed himself, though with much hesitance. He’d finally, finally attained that which he wanted most – you – and yet it hadn’t been under the circumstances he’d romanticised for so long.
♡ He tried not to think about it, storing it with the rest of the undesirable humanisms he had locked away elsewhere in his psyche. He focussed only on how explosive it had felt, how…alive he was in comparison to all the other times he’d been with someone, using them as nothing more than a mannequin to pump himself with rather than someone to give himself to.
♡ He let you lie on the floor, a blanket draped over you as he sorted himself out. He clicked the camera off, took out the memory card and kept it firmly attached to his palm – all while you weren’t looking, weren’t listening, senses still dazed with all Dominic had given you, done to you.
♡ As he removed the mask, there was a sheen to his skin and a passive glint in his smile that suggested something inhuman and false about him. Something you discovered too late, it would seem.
-
♡ After that evening, you had no choice but to continue on as if nothing had happened. For so long as Dominic was in possession of that night – that memory card – nothing had. You, of course, knew nothing of the card at first. Not until Dominic had let it slip that the camera had been rolling the entire time.
♡ And still, you didn’t question his use of the mask. The serendipitous timing of it all. You could hardly breathe for the ocean boiling in your stomach, your heart bleaching white and your brain paling as you realised you’d just filmed a sex tape that could ruin not just your life, but Dominic’s too.
♡ Oh, if only you knew just how little Dominic cared.
♡ Dominic told you not to worry, that he’d salvaged the memory card and put it somewhere safe only to now return it to you.
♡ He’d duplicated the video, of course. That, he kept somewhere even safer.
♡ Sure, he’d allowed you to upload it to your account when you asked him with wide eyes, your face blurred and his figure already unrecognisable to any of your simps. You still needed content, after all, so why not profit off your late-night tryst with your neighbour?
♡ Which was what led you to come to him now, eyes downcast as he stood before you, arms crossed, smile ready to split his face in half and reveal the parasites that made up his interior.
♡ The truth you gave him? Your account had garnered a great deal of traction since your…uploaded encounter. About three thousand new subscribers, to be exact.
♡ “Oh?” Dominic offered. “And why are you telling me this, mon Chèr? Do you plan on splitting your earnings with me?”
♡ He graced you with his charm, his humour. Tried keeping the situation light.
♡ A redness rolled across your face. Dominic smiled, slim and sly, and allowed you to foster his silence, his attention.
♡ You suggested filming something else. Something that could make the guilt you felt for your last encounter with him feel half worth it.
♡ Nothing ever would, of course. But you could at least try.
♡ And so began a lustrous alliance between yourself and Dominic, the man who had once been your neighbour, then your employer, now your owner.
♡ He used you as he pleased, donned the mask and bent you over under the guise of being the conduit for your growing fanbase. In reality, the scorching, pulsating, blistering reality you inhabited with him, you were his. His star who he made and will break when he sees fit.
♡ So long as he had that memory card, and the growing catalogue of blackmail you keep adding to in your bid to chase what you thought was the weight of your self-worth in cash, you were his.
♡ Infidelitous, yes. But that mattered little to Dominic. Nothing mattered more now that he had you in his hands, whimpering for him, coming undone for him, all while he maintained the safe anonymity of both his mask and the façade of a loving, caring family man.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
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jelliedink · 4 months
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BARKING AND HOWLING AND GNAWING AND RIPPING MY SKIN OFF WITH MY NAILS IN ANTICIPATION
Working on a dastardly Yandere! DILF post; a malicious little number that leans into the risqué and the manipulative. Definitely has some meat you can sink your teeth into — in terms of length and content.
He isn’t ready for his grand reveal — yet — but when he is, trust that he will leave you wanting more…
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jelliedink · 4 months
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Your Obsessed Butler Headcanons
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Warnings: smutty smut, non-consensual drug use, potential blackmail, manipulation, name calling. Author's note: I'm back, loves! Writer's block hit hard and left me with thousands of unfinished WIPs but nothing I could complete. Yes, this is a screen cap of One Piece Klahadore because this man has awaken things in me and I'm still not over it. I hope you enjoy! Screenshot not taken by me. Beautiful divider by @saradika
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It may be cliche, yes, but I absolutely love the obsessed butler trope. Specially one that has managed to successfully seduce their darling. Even aware that you're just using them for sex, they are still thrilled that they get the opportunity to feel your body and serve you in every way.
It's the middle of the night and you woke up hot and heavy? For them, there was no better way to wake up than to the sight of you grinding yourself on them.
Are you afraid of loud storms at night? They would hold you close and make love to you until it was gone, assuring you that as long as you were by their side, there was nothing for you to be worried about.
Felt bored out of your mind? They would organise things to run smoothly without them for the the next hours so they could give you head until their mouth was sore.
Found a new kink you wanted to try? They would hurry up the rest of the staff so they could get to your room as early as possible, ready to spend the night doing whatever you ask from them.
Suddenly felt needy during an event hosted by your parents? If you promise not to be too loud, they would manage to keep people away from the storage room for 30 minutes and lock both of you there, fucking you stupid against a wall with one hand on your mouth just to be safe.
They never, ever said no to you.
But everything comes with a price.
They manipulated you until you accepted not to use any condoms.
They had remote access to your devices and social media, and used it to sabotage every one of your relationships until they were the only ones you could rely on.
They've convinced you that you had everything you needed at home so you hardly ever went outside, staying the whole time in their field of vision.
They tempered your food when you went too long without requesting their special attention, not letting you forget what only them could make you feel.
And should the idea that you could live without them ever cross your mind, they had records of the nastiest things you both did to remind you that maybe that maybe you should think twice. But they were sure they'd never need it: they changed their appearance to your liking, learned how to fight and shoot to protect you and ran the house impeccably. They were everything you needed, so why would you be such an ungrateful bitch?
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jelliedink · 5 months
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I love your reader insert stuff!! The yandere yazuka series was vvvv entertaining, I wish I had a big scary gangster to scare away my stalker lol
If you are open to requests, how about Idol!Reader x Yandere!Bodyguard. I love the trope so much, and I'm interested and what you'd do with the idea. No worries if you're not interested tho!
Best wishes
-🌟
I just finished writing it and you've got me punching the air with your prompt. It wasn't really my thing but I'm now sold. Thank you for the trope idea. :’)
Yandere!Bodyguard x Idol!Reader
Short scenario featuring your bodyguard that takes his duty a little too seriously. Not that you’d mind…
TW: violence
(Cover from the manga “A girl and her guard dog”)
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"Fantastic show tonight!"
The older man guides you in and closes the door behind him. You smile warmly and seat yourself on the sofa. He quickly follows, although at a terribly uncomfortable proximity. His legs are pressed against yours and he extends an arm behind you, pretending to stretch. You shuffle awkwardly and lock your hands in your lap. You can already tell where this is going.
"With your talent, I'm confident we could triple the number of attendants. We just need a bigger venue." He nods at you and taps your thigh with his other free hand as encouragement. You notice the wedding band digging into his skin. 
"Alas, let us not waste the evening with business talk. I'm sure a stunning lady like you has better things to do." He laughs at his own compliment and ponders for a minute. "In fact, why don't we have dinner together? I know a great restaurant in the area."
You open your mouth to speak, but are distracted by the sudden, mild pressure on your leg. Somehow, his greasy fingers have wandered further up in the time you listened to his shameless offer. You've been in this career for long enough to guess what such proposals entail. If you say no, best case scenario he presses further, calling you a stuck up bitch and reminding you who has the power in this partnership. Worst case scenario, he leaves the room and the calls and invitations to perform will gradually drop. 
Yet your situation is special, benefitting from an additional possibility. A loophole, if you may.
Should you scream? Oh, he always gets so angry when you act scared. It's an immediate trigger. He really has a soft spot for your glistening, frightened eyes. You glance up one final time at the perverted smirk silently disregarding you. If you are to be honest with yourself, you'd very much enjoy seeing it wiped off forever. Why not? You're feeling particularly mean today.
So without hesitation, you release a high pitched yell of help. The door bursts open and the hinges creak. A tall, toned man walks in, and without a word he lunges at the manager, pulling him by the collar of his cheap dress jacket. You hold your cheeks dramatically, and bat your eyelashes at your bodyguard.
"H-he tried to molest me..." you mumble between sobs.
That's all he needs to proceed. Now the real fun begins. You can hear the muffled screams of protest. The bones crack and the flesh bends under his iron fists. Standing before your bodyguard, they all end up looking like ragdolls. Comically limp and weak, folding and breaking with no resistance. It amuses you greatly.
When did it all begin? You can't remember anymore. You were in your early years and this scary looking stranger entered your little backstage room. His explanation was brief and to the point: as your fame increases, so will the threats to your safety. He was appointed as your bodyguard. You couldn't care less, so you just shrugged. 
You've always been on the playful side. Not necessarily rude, just some innocent tease and banter wherever it's well received. Seeing him so quiet and stoic, you couldn't help but try to push his buttons: changing in front of him and requiring his assistance, occasionally asking him to pick you up and carry you because you could no longer walk. Naturally you would've stopped at the first complaint, but that's the strange part: no reaction ever came. He went along with everything. You assumed it's part of the job. Celebrities aren't known for their good manners, so hiring someone that loses their temper easily would be a fast ticket to termination.
Then you had your first encounter with one of the unpleasant fans you've been warned about. You could only stare in terror at your bodyguard's feral, unhinged reaction. The unfortunate fan's face was so disfigured, you wondered if anyone could ever manage to fix it back into shape. The bodyguard was panting and you could see the sweat coating his face and chest. You were rather confident there were many other ways to deal with it and this wasn't on the recommended list. Thus you felt compelled to ask the million dollar question:
"You act like a jealous spouse. Do you have a crush on me or something?"
You kind of regretted your audacity towards a man that had just nearly killed someone. But his features softened instantly and he turned to you, wiping his forehead and straightening his collar. 
"I suppose so. Is that an issue?"
As you stared ahead, processing his unbothered act, you sensed your cheeks feverishly burning. Uh oh. You hadn't anticipated such a nonchalant confession. You thought back to all the times you stood before him, bare and flirty. Was he merely holding back his urges the entire time? Or was he finally paying you back for all the teasing? Then again, his face didn't betray any hint of humor.
"I've never heard you joke before", you decided to test the waters.
"I'm not. Why would I joke about something like this?" He gazed at you incredulously. 
As somber and honest as ever. Well, that would indeed explain why he'd let you get away with the cheeky behavior. The more you considered it, the more entranced you became with the idea of indulging in such a relationship. As a famous idol, you couldn't be seen dating anyone. One rumor of you having a boyfriend and the agency would've had your ass suspended. But no one said anything about messing around with your bodyguard. He has to be with you all the time, so no one would suspect a thing. And you could definitely expand his list of responsibilities. You'd been terribly stressed lately, after all, and an outlet to release your frustrations would be most welcomed. Your bodyguard would never refuse pleasing his beloved.
You chuckled and pulled him towards your dressing room, giddy with excitement. Something about his imposing presence, like a wild animal that had just escaped from the leash, aroused you to no end. You've had your share of crazy fans, but this was the cherry on top. 
"Should we leave?"
You're jolted out of your daydreams by his low, rough voice. Ah, you missed the grand finale. Too bad. The bodyguard approaches you, with the shirt wrinkled and the top buttons popped open under the shuffle of his vicious attack. You can feel the knot forming in your stomach.
"Not yet. You know how I get when you act like this..." You pout and look away. "You need to take care of me first."
He grins at your last statement.
"Of course. Is the sofa okay?"
You nod.
"Then let's get you undressed, miss."
Is this what they call a scary dog privilege? 
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jelliedink · 5 months
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jelliedink · 5 months
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I can take it I promise 🛐🛐
Source here!
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jelliedink · 5 months
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In case y'all wondering that's exactly how I picture ♡ DILF!Boss ♡ would be with reader most of the time and it makes me kinda feral tbh
Dominance isn’t all whips and chains.
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jelliedink · 5 months
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The feminine urge to be 🩷✨🌸🎀👑🍬 and have a man 🖤🔪❤️‍🩹⛓️🌪️🩸.
A wanna feel safe in the villain’s arms.
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jelliedink · 5 months
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Oh no
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jelliedink · 5 months
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Yandere! Monster x Reader [Werewolf]
In Romanian mythology, Pricolici is an evil spirit believed to be born after the death of wicked humans, able to transform into certain animals such as ferocious dogs and wolves. The etymology is unknown, although it's suspected to be of Dacian origin, thus going as far back in time as the 1st century BC. An ancient creature has set its predatory eyes on you.
Winner of the Folklore Monster Poll celebrating Romanian history!
TW: obsessive behavior, violence, death
[Horror Masterlist]
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He can tell it's a dream. Nonetheless, it always feels unbearably real. He can smell the incense, hear the hurried trample of feet underneath him. He wants to open his mouth and demand they stop. No words ever come out, the throat is dry and flattened by heavy despair. It's a dream, after all. The priests march on, and the spears are lifted. For a moment, he's blinded by their powerful, sharp glisten. As he gazes at the sacred circle, it occurs to him just how uncomfortable the shackles are. He becomes somewhat distracted by this irritating friction, so much he doesn't register the instructions given by the mysterious men. 
Centuries later, he would stumble upon an old history book by Herodotus that detailed his misfortune:
"The Getae are the bravest of the Thracians and the most just. They believe they are immortal, forever living, in the following sense: they think they do not die and that the one who dies joins Zalmoxis, a divine being. Every four years, they send a messenger to Zalmoxis, who is chosen by chance. They ask him to tell Zalmoxis what they want on that occasion. The mission is performed in the following way: men standing there for that purpose hold three spears; other people take the one who is sent to Zalmoxis by his hands and feet and fling him in the air on the spears. If he dies pierced, they think that the divinity is going to help them; if he does not die, it is he who is accused and they declare that he is a bad person. And, after he has been charged, they send another one. The messenger is told the requests while he is still alive."
The foreign hands tighten around his limbs and he takes a deep breath in, ready for the plunge. Truth be told, he's not too anxious. The first time was terrifying, but one becomes accustomed to death if it repeats itself, night after night as the years pass and millennia settle over it, like a thick blanket of ash and bone and dust. He doesn't remember the pain anymore, only the bitterness. The wrath. He had no business playing God's messenger. He hadn't wished to be choking on his own blood, rippling violently at the corners of his mouth as his eyes dart over the excited masses. There are claps and cheers, and hope, and peace. Just not for him. 
No matter, if they long so dearly after eternity, he'll become their very proof. A tangible undead, a creature of eternity. Let them gaze at their ardent desire as it claws their bowels out for the birds to feed on. Let them sing praise before their God as their soft throats detangle under his fangs. Before he knows it, the corpses lay mangled at his feet and he notices his horrid reflection swaying in the puddles of fresh blood. 
He has become a beast. 
And just like that, the nightmare ends. It always ends here. He pats the sweat off his forehead with the monotonous vigor of habit. It's already noon and the narrow street flocks with curious tourists and natives on their stroll. Every now and then he will venture into the city, just to get a glimpse of the world. He twists the knob and opens a window, enjoying the breeze that cools his skin. His tired eyes wander around with no purpose. 
That's when he sees you. Your wide, carefree smile as you converse with your friend. You're drawing circles along the edge of your coffee cup, propped over the table, entranced by your discussion. Your gentle laugh rings unexpectedly loud against his ears. He finds himself frozen in place, unable to contract a single muscle. 
"Oh, this trail is supposed to have some really nice sights." Your friend is shuffling through unfolded maps, spread out onto the small café table. "We should leave pretty early though, otherwise it'll get dark before the return."
You groan at the idea. Your friend responds with a chuckle. 
"Remember, our tour guide joked about werewolves roaming the outskirts. Do you want to be eaten?" She inquires with a cheeky grin. 
"You know I have a thing for monsters." You answer with a wink. 
The jokes carry on until the bill arrives, and you eventually stand up and merrily make your way down the street. For a brief moment you feel a cold shiver running down your spine, so you peek back inquisitively. Nothing out of the ordinary. 
Ah. By the time his focus returns, the sun is setting, reflecting its crimson rays over the old cobblestone. You've been gone for a while, so he must've been staring into the nothingness for good hours. He clears his throat, mildly embarrassed by his absent-mindedness. He isn't hungry, so he has trouble explaining his sudden captivation with a random human.
Even more bizarre is the consequence of the accidental encounter. The following nights are devoid of the usual torment. Has he ever had a peaceful slumber before? He can't recall. And yet here he is, vacantly eyeing the ceiling without the labored breath or cold shivers, faintly reminiscing about your amused expression. He frowns slightly at the realization that his recollection seems to contain less details compared to yesterday. Your face is smudged by the intense light of the noon, titled at an angle that allows no shadows to discern the features. What will he do when it's entirely gone? A faceless memory, anchored in the depths of his heart as a reminder of what could've been. Is there some universal law that dictates only misery remains unforgotten, or is he just exceptionally unlucky? Infuriating. 
The overwhelming sensation creeps upon him again. A primordial vengefulness that hasn't yet released him from its cold, bony fingers. For once, can't he be granted fairness? His jaw clenches and he marches out of the room. 
Tonight shall be a feast.
The lights are still on in the little tavern inn, and through the small windows he can make out the lively movement of the people inside. He glances at the waning moon one final time. The world may change, and the years may pass, but one thing has never left him throughout the centuries. Always bearing the same pallid, melancholic countenance, his taciturn companion rises, indifferent to the Universe. 
His back arches outwards, the bones tear and twist, the joints dislocate and the skin is giving way to coarse, thick fur. His eyes now carry an amber glow as they rest on the modest building. Without further hesitation, he pounces on the door and it folds like cardboard under his inhuman strength. The room goes quiet and all heads turn to him. He recognizes that look. A fleeting second of fear and curiosity, before true panic settles in. But they rarely have the time to scream. Just as the vocal chords contract and vibrate, their chests are trashed and limbs are tattered. Splattered visceral remains and blood coat the ground under his feral attack.
You squeeze your eyes closed and force your hands over your mouth to ensure your stillness to the massacre. You were just returning from the bathroom when you heard the wails and the wet sounds of mutilated flesh. You'd ducked behind the wall and hid under an end table. What the hell is that creature? You initially thought a wild wolf had somehow made its way into the tavern, but no animal can be this large. There is a backdoor, but on the other side of this hall. You'd have to sprint across the archway that leads into the main room. Then again, if it's this busy ripping the others apart...
No need to ponder your options much. Silence falls behind you, which means the creature must have finished its horrid sport early. His snout picks up a particular scent and he tenses up, expectantly. Could it be? 
The wooden parquet tiles creak under the weight of foreign footsteps; a human approaching you. You look up from under the table. Has someone dealt with the beast? Although you immediately regret revealing yourself. You freeze in your spot, hands propped on the ground, like prey awaiting execution. 
The man is unnaturally tall, having to crouch under the ceiling, with wild black hair and rough features. His chiseled face is painted red, and his clothing is torn apart and soaked in blood. His large hands end in sharp claws, and amid his ruffled locks you can distinguish animal ears. 
There you are.
Well, quite the irony to meet you here of all times and places. From this distance, you look even prettier. He bends over slightly to examine the details that have faded since the first encounter. A surreal experience, really. Seeing you kneel right in front of him and not as a figment of his imagination. He extends his fingers over your face and presses his nails in, leaving a vague trail of swollen, red skin. What a frail being you are.
"Your friend is alive, by the way." His deep, dissonant voice pierces the silence.
"O-oh." You gasp. You were so anxious you barely understood the meaning of his words.
"You may check on her if you so desire, however..." 
He considers it. Normally, even after allowing his anger to seep into cadavers and ruins, all he's left with is disgust and emptiness. Yet your presence seems to fill him with unfamiliar comfort. If one is drowning, is it truly selfish to hold onto the first thing that keeps them afloat? The only people who'd condemn such beggar are the ones that have never been underwater. They don't know what it's like to have your lungs tighten and collapse under the heavy pressure, waving your arms towards a surface that's never reached. 
"...You'll be coming with me afterwards."
You can only stare.
"Don't worry, I won't kill you." He attempts to simulate a smile. "I suppose I'm not too convincing like this", he jokes as he gestures towards his body, "But you have my word I'll never harm you."
"Why, though?" You manage to stutter, frowning in confusion. 
He's taken aback by your inquiry. Perhaps his statement is indeed more threatening than anything else. On the other hand, he hasn't conversed with humans in...longer than he can remember. What might pose as convincing in this case? Drawing out a rose and confessing his undying love among the bodies he murdered feels rather ridiculous. Suddenly, a passage he's once read comes to mind. At the time, it depressed him greatly. Now it feels like the only fitting reasoning.
"Do you believe in destiny? That even the powers of time can be altered for a single purpose? That the luckiest man who walks on this earth is the one who finds… true love?"
"Isn't that from Stoker's Dracula? How is it-" 
You pause and search his eyes. Golden trenches of loneliness and gloom. Your heart is heavy and your mouth curls into a grimace the longer you stare into these pools swirling with agony. 
"I understand." Is all you can mutter as you stand up. 
Have you had a choice to begin with? Not even the frothing waves of a storming ocean can come between a dying man and his only raft. 
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