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bunnis-monsters · 10 days

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NSFW

Yandere!Vampire that was once royalty, living in a dilapidated castle, alone and depressed. As a human, he was surrounded by people. Everyone adored him, his golden curls and warm brown eyes charming the hearts of every noble that set eyes on him.

That was until his family was slaughtered by a coven of vampires, leaving him the only survivor. Now with no family, he was turned away from the nobles that once gathered at his side, calling him beautiful and intelligent. Now he was a beast, and was only left alive because no one dared to touch him.

As the years passed by, all that knew of his existence died out, meaning no one remembered or cared for him. In the past, he had at least been grateful he had been in someone’s thoughts, even if it was in a negative light. Now, no one even hated him. He was just nonexistent to the world outside his castle.

Centuries passed by, every day slowly picking at the last bits of his sanity. Days of past grandeur and the current day mixed together, leaving him in a state where he couldn’t tell whether he was back in the living arms of his family, or wandering the dark, crumbling hallways of his childhood home.

It was only when a soft, warm light flooded one of the abandoned rooms he had been standing in that the fog in his brain began to fade, allowing him to see what was in front of him for the first time in decades.

It was you, a young woman in a hoodie and jeans, holding a flashlight. You lived only a mile away, and had been exploring when you came upon ruins of what seemed like an ancient castle.

You had heard rumors of a person that wandered the ruins from the townsfolk, and old tales of vampires that had been passed down by tongue for centuries. Not believing them, you decided to see for yourself…

Your light shone upon what you first thought was an ethereal ghost or some kind of beautiful spirit. A man with a mop of blonde curls, porcelain skin, and the most beautiful pair of ruby red eyes you’ve ever seen stared back at you.

The person attempted to speak, but clutched his throat, as if he hadn’t spoken in so long, his vocal cords had forgotten how.

“H-hello?”

The man perked up at the sound of your voice, his eyes clearing up. It seemed just hearing another human speak made his undead heart leap, and he couldn’t help but stumble towards you.

You yelped when he crossed the room within seconds and pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your neck and inhaling deeply.

The smell of another person, of sweat and perfume mixing together to make your own unique scent made him want to sob.

Of course you were freaked out, but the man holding onto you wasn’t hurting you, and you could feel warm tears soaking through your shirt. How could you turn away someone that was obviously in distress?

Unsurprisingly, the man followed you home. It didn’t take a genius to realize he wasn’t human. He was as pale as a sheet of paper, with no pulse or any color to his cheeks. His eyes were scarlet, a shade you had never seen a human have before.

Despite knowing this, you couldn’t help but care for him. He was thin, malnourished, with clothing that was so old and dirty that it nearly crumbled when he took them off.

“Are you hungry?”

You had taken to asking only yes or no questions, since he couldn’t speak. The man frowned, his eyes getting foggy for a second. You decided to ask again.

“Hello? Are you-“

He suddenly snapped back into reality, leaning forward to gently place his lips on your neck. You squeaked out in surprise when you felt his teeth sink into your neck… but it didn’t hurt. Instead, you only felt an uncomfortable pressure and draining sensation, and before long he was pulling back.

“Mmph…” he panted softly, blood running down his chin. “Was… so… thirsty…” he managed to say, his voice hoarse and small.

He cupped your cheek, holding your face in his hands and looking down at you with what could only be described as utter adoration.

“My love…”

From that point on, he was attached to your hip, following you everywhere you went like a lovesick puppy. Any time you were separated, he had severe anxiety, going back and forth from his dreamworld and reality. It was his coping mechanism, but it caused him to never understand what was real and what wasn’t.

You grounded him, made him feel safe and loved. Oh how he adored you. You had saved him from his lonely existence and taken him into your home as if he were a stray dog, and he was loyal like one. His loyalty came at a price, however, and that price was your freedom to do as you pleased.

Late nights out with friends became next to nonexistent, especially if he knew there would be any males there.

“I just want to protect you, my beloved. It’s a dangerous, cruel world. People will act as if they love you when they do not…”

And as you slowly became more and more isolated, his affections only grew. Kisses to your hand began to trail up your arm and to your neck. Snuggles turned into grinding and heavy petting, and even the most innocent of caresses became lewd in nature.

It didn’t take long for him to fuck you for the first time. After all, he had been pent up and alone for centuries, resisting taking you on the spot was excruciating.

The second he sunk into your pussy, he came. You were just so warm and your scent made his head fuzzy. He couldn’t help but fuck into you like a wild animal, feeding from your pretty neck as he filled you up over and over.

After the first time, a day didn’t pass by when he didn’t crave your intimate touch. Some days he was satisfied with heavy petting and kisses, others he couldn’t be satiated until his face was between your legs, lapping at your cunt for hours.

You were his, his mate, his lover. He couldn’t imagine a life without you anymore, so could you really blame him when he clung to you so tightly?

He just loved you, and he did such a good job at keeping you satisfied, just enough to where you didn’t look into the missing cases of your old lovers and male friends.

Why would you need to pay attention to any of that when your loving, attentive boyfriend was right there, ready to worship you from head to toe?

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gremlingottoosilly · 5 months

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Considering that now Emperor!König can fuck darling whenever he wants, what would happen when little darling starts with pregnancy symptoms? Would he feel proud that be got her finally pregnant or he would have a different reaction?

The first healer who got the news to the emperor got promoted on the spot. The second and the third one got enough money to never heal again - yet, they were immediately advised as the commune of professionals working to ensure that the Regent Empress won't follow the exensixe footsteps of the Dead Royal Mothers, dying in childbirth. Knowing the way Konig swung with Death, no one would be surprised for the Empress to have returned somehow, in some way later - still, no one wanted to be the one to bring possible tragic news. But you were alive, and well - as well as someone who is pregnant from the notorious dictator could have been. The baby is draining all of your powers, the hack of healers has created a collegium trying to suggest the gender of the child by rotating between taking urine and blood samples, and Konig couldn't be happier. Son would be the son of the country, and the daughter could repeat the fate of her mother, locked up in the highest tower so that no one would ever try to capture and force her into marriage. You didn't think that it's possible to be even more pampered - but Konig is forbidding you from ever stepping outside of the castle, even the garden times are strictly limited to the exact minute healers have suggested. Your poison testers are being fired left and right, every food product you had is mostly being coked under the supreme supervision of the emperor himself - or his undead generals, whose lack of taste almost makes you gag. You are forbidden from wearing fashionable strict dresses with corsets and lacings - you are barely wearing anything at all, locked in your bedroom with your husband at your hip. He is so worried about every cramp, every headache or dull pain in your back, you can be the only person in history to ever receive feet massages from the conqueror himself - and he finally stopped dragging you to his meetings, instead opting for staying indoors with you. Konig's anxiety is at all rage now, he is worried sick about you - and, well, as overbearing as he is, you enjoy him actually worrying about you and stopping with his annoying antics and teasing.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #emperor!konig

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thegoatsongs · 6 months

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The 2006 Dracula movie on BBC is one of the couple of adaptations in which Mina doesn't cheat/get seduced/hate her husband to be interested in someone else, but because Jonathan dies (early) by Dracula drinking him to death at the castle. She clicks with Jack, though not because of shared traits, common interests, or how they complement each other like in the book, it's more "well they're both single, guy saves girl..." The movie ends after Dracula gets killed by Van Helsing and Jack, with Mina and Jack being together after Mina gives Jonathan a (rather touching) eulogy about how he'll remain forever young. Then we see Dracula, Actually Alive, stalking them.

Like, come on, him again? Dracula drank Jonathan, since he died from it he should be undead now! Forever young, as she said. And back from the castle to find Mina. And the meeting between the three could have been interesting or very, very funny.

#the entire movie also does arthur dirty rip #dracula daily #jonathan harker #jack seward #mina harker

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see-arcane · 11 months

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While he doesn’t write/narrate it, I can’t help but think that a major part of Jonathan’s fear of the wolves goes beyond fear of death. We saw already that he was fried on the dread of just being killed off when he witnessed the grieving mother and when he dared his way through freeclimbing over a terrifying sheer drop to reach Dracula’s window, plus the trip back. Death itself is still a hair below the Worst Possible Outcome; i.e. never leaving this castle again due to reason of undeaditis.

What I think really scared him was the fear of the misstep. After all these days, weeks, months of hellish dancing to Dracula’s tune. Now, right at the end of all the borrowed time he’s scraped together, now he’s gone and foolishly put himself in danger of destruction ahead of schedule. Of removing the last scrawny chance of escape, of seeing Mina again, just because he cracked enough to dare stepping outside of Dracula’s game.

So he miserably retracts his request, drags himself back to his room, and is left again with the Worse Than Death option hovering in the too-near future.

Tonight is mine. Tomorrow is yours.

Dracula is going to take his draught tonight. That’s a fact. Jonathan cuts away from that scene before the entry is up, but we know it’s coming. The treat Dracula’s been putting off for all this playacting. That first real bite is, as we’ll see later, the first step towards the ticking time bomb threat of vampirism. After that? The Brides get to have him just one measly sunset away. There’s little doubt that they’ll exsanguinate him to ‘death.’ And then?

I hope to see more of you at Castle Dracula.

That’s what he’s gambling with now. The full final risk he has to take before he can forfeit himself to the simpler finality of death by less insidious teeth or a quick, splattering plummet to the Earth. Death is the last option, his final irreversible out...but only for so long.

He’s been careful. So goddamn careful all this time. He can’t throw it away yet for a brief and grisly euthanasia--not when Mina is waiting. Not when there’s a last crumb of hope.

Even if by now he’s probably sure it’s one he’s only imagining.

#having feelings about my good doomed friend Jonathan Harker today :')#jonathan harker #dracula #re: dracula #dracula daily

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ghostbsuter · 7 months

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"That's all, thank you, Bruce." Jazz could cry from joy and grief, their uncle was so kind to take them in after she'd got danny and herself out of that house.

"Of course, if you need anything else, don't hesitate."

Danny perks up at that, jumping away from his seat and rounding on the man.

"You got an empty meeting room I could borrow? I have to prepare a court meeting."

Surprise colours Bruce and he's quick to smile.

"Of course, Alfred can lead you to it, but out of curiosity. What court meeting?"

Blinking confused, Danny turns to jazz. "I thought you told him everything?"

Jazz blinks back, just as confused. "I did? I covered the ghost situation, the government, and our parents. Was there more?"

Clarity rains on Danny in small steps, he curses, hand already pulling out a dollar and giving it to Alfred.

"Okay– jazz you should sit down."

"What? Why?? Danny?"

She was ushered to his previous seating place, Bruce and Tim watching, calculating.

"Okay so, don't kill me for this. I might have forgotten to tell you something."

Alarmed, Jazz attempted to stand up but was pushed down once more.

"Remember the big bad evil king I fought and won against?"

"Yes?"

"It was right of conquest. Congrats, your a princess."

Her brain shortcuts, it takes a moment for her to reboot.

("Undead royalty. Huh, that's a new one."

Bruce sighs at Tims comment, fingers pinching his nose.)

"You're a prince." She observes, slow.

"Yep."

"And you forgot to mention it."

"Yep..."

"I want to see the castle and have a week of vacation. You're going to introduce me to all your court members and give me a full tour of your apparently new dimension." It's not a request nor a demand, she's getting it.

Danny won't be denying her that.

"Planned and dealt, anything else, Princess Jasmine?"

She scruncles her nose and gives him a shove.

"Never call me that again."

"Yes ma'am, supreme sister of all."

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #fic prompt #writing prompt #dc x dp prompt #Danny forgot to tell jazz hes high prince #congrats sister your a princess sister now #THE princess siter #pls dont kill me - danny #bruce and tim are watching with popcorn #fuck we have royalty what do we do #but thats also my nephew and niece shit #batman mode cant handle this as bruce nor brucie

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treespen · 1 year

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So if Drac did this whole "leave the forbidden door unlocked but openable after a great effort" on purpose then it's so smart because now

1. Jonathan disobeyed and was rescued

2. Jonathan confesses that he can only look to Dracula for safety

3. Jonathan says that the Count, whose presence has made him hate these rooms, is now the least dreadful thing in the Castle to him

4. He likens his own room of nightmares to Dracula, and both are likened to a sanctuary

So this way Dracula has a desperate solicitor ready to run to his arms for safety. Playing up Jonathan's initial fascination for him.

Jonathan is sleepless, trapped, days numbered, haunted by nightmares, and the undead, utterly controlled by his host... yet Dracula terrifies him the least. Because he saved him. From wolves, from other vampires.

And if he's ever endangered again, Jonathan can only seek him as sanctuary.

#dracula #jonathan harker #dracula daily

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dailycaskett · 7 months

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Yeah, I have to say, it's good to see you guys hitting it off again. — Castle 4.22 | “Undead Again” (2012)

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the-art-of-ancunin · 4 months

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I'll Be Good [One-Shot]

Summary: As the newest addition to the Vampire Ascendent's twisted little family, you've already proven yourself to be the most vexatious, obstinate, and thankless child he's had the pleasure of breaking. Though he hasn't succeeded quite yet, Astarion is determined to make you bend to his will, to mold you into something useful...though he realizes that perhaps his original intentions may have been a bit off the mark when you manage to pierce through his carefully built walls and awaken something in him that he assumed had perished long ago.

Pairing: Ascended!Astarion x Spawn!Female Reader

Content Warning(s): SMUT, dirty talk, Daddy kink, Creampie, P-in-V, unprotected sex, some overstimulation, etc.

Please let me know if I missed anything.

Also, again... I did not proofread this, no beta-reader, so it might be shit. Let's find out together.

Word Count: 4.9K

The moon hung like a pale specter against the blackened sky, casting a cold, silvery glow over the Crimson Palace as you approached its looming gates. The air was thick with the scent of decay and spices, mingling with the bitter tang of your own despair. Your steps were soundless against the well-worn cobblestones, betraying no hint of your return. Your mind churned with revulsion; you had ventured into Baldur's Gate under the gloom of night, not exactly as a predator but as bait, tasked to ensnare an innocent for your Master’s insatiable appetite.

"Six months," you whispered to yourself, the words a ghostly mist in the chill air. "Six months of this cursed existence." At first, Master Astarion had been lenient, allowing you time to adapt to the thirst that now clawed at your insides, to the newfound strength that coiled in your muscles like a dormant serpent. But his patience had waned and his expectations had risen like the tide.

"Useful" – the word twisted in your gut, a cruel mockery of servitude. You could scrub the castle from top to bottom until your hands bled anew, yet it would never be enough. Fetching trinkets, scrubbing stone, and worse…much worse. This was to be your life, and it all boiled down to control - to Astarion's iron grip on the reins of power, forcing you and everyone else to dance to his whims. You were no stranger to playing the pawn, your life prior stood as testament to the manipulation suffered by those who claimed authority over you. But at least back then, you figured, death would have been the end of it.

"There you are," a voice slithered from the shadows. You immediately stiffened, your undead heart a frozen shard in your chest. Astarion sat, reclined in a beautifully crafted chair situated near the front door - the dim light glinting off his gilded chalice, the crimson liquid within a stark reminder of your grim existence.

"Master," you acknowledged, the title a leaden weight on your tongue.

"Out and about, playing the part of the dutiful daughter?" His smirk cut through the darkness, a blade honed by centuries of cunning. "Yet, you return to me empty-handed. Again."

Your resolve flickered as you met his gaze, those vermillion eyes a tempest of enigmatic desires. "The night was...unkind to me, I admit. My apologies," you lied smoothly, your voice a practiced melody of regret.

"Unkind," he echoed mockingly. "For as pretty as you are, my sweet, it's quite astonishing how you've proven to be such a lousy whore. We all must earn our keep in this family, Y/N. You know this." His tone held the chill of an unspoken threat.

"Of course, Master," you said, your voice betraying none of the turmoil that raged within you. Your fists clenched at your sides, nails digging into your palms, a small act of defiance against his suffocating rule.

"Words are but wind, my dear," He continued, rising gracefully to stand before you. "Actions are what bind us – or condemn us."

You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, as tangible as the stone walls that encased them. Every instinct screamed to flee, to rail against the chains that bound you to his side, but survival was a lesson hard-learned. Composure was your shield, obedience your sword.

"I'd be more than happy to clean this palace top to bottom every day until the sky falls down," you replied, each word measured and deliberate. "I've told you this a hundred times or more. I'll gladly earn my keep, but I am not going to whore myself just to keep your snack cupboard stocked. I'm not that type of girl and not even you can take that from me. I won't let you."

You let out a strangled yelp as your Master’s iron grip encircled your throat, the cold touch of his fingers a stark contrast to the fire that had been kindling between you moments before. Your feet dangled helplessly above the marble floor, your back collided harshly against the unforgiving stone wall behind you. His eyes, dark as you had ever seen them, burned into yours with an intensity that could sear flesh.

"Displeased, are we?" he sneered, the venom in his voice dripping like acid. "The world outside these walls is a cruel one, darling. You know that...but if you'd rather go waltzing back into your father's open arms...well, that can be arranged. That drunkard who treated you like filth? My...I'm sure he'd be quite surprised to see you."

Your blood pounded in your ears, each thrum a drumroll of panic and resignation. You could feel the oppressive weight of Astarion's power crushing your spirit, but the thought of returning to your father's brutality was a fate worse than any torment your master could devise. In a choked whisper borne of fear and desperation, you managed to utter, "No, no, no - Please..."

"Good," He growled. "So we have an understanding, then?"

Your nod was almost imperceptible, your gaze not leaving his. The silence stretched taut between you until you added softly, with a trace of disdain you couldn't suppress, "Yes, Daddy ."

His vermillion eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing within their depths. "What was that?" he demanded, his voice low and threatening.

Shit.

"Nothing, Master. I just said yes." Your words were barely audible, a mere breath carried on the stagnant air of the corridor.

"No. Say it again. As you did before," he commanded, something primal awakening inside him.

You hesitated. His grip tightened.

"Yes, Daddy." The words slipped from your lips, strained and hesitant. You couldn't decipher the look that painted his beautiful yet terrifying face—a mosaic of power, anger, and something else you dared not name.

He released his hold, allowing you to slide down the wall, your legs quivering as they struggled to support your weight. He didn't step away, though; instead, he caged you within the prison of his arms, his presence enveloping you. His hand, no longer a vise on your neck, traced a path up your trembling form, coming to rest beneath your chin, tilting your head up to meet his gaze.

"Look at me," he whispered, his thumb brushing across your lower lip with a gentleness that belied the ferocity of his earlier actions.

You obeyed, your eyes locking onto his. There was no escaping the raw desire that swirled in those fathomless pools. The tension crackled between you, electric and overwhelming.

"Are you afraid, little one?" he asked, his voice a seductive purr that resonated in the hollows of your chest.

"Of you? Don't flatter yourself," Your reply came out steadier than you felt, the rebellious spark within you flickering to life despite the danger.

Your Master chuckled, the sound rumbling deep within his chest. "You should be. There are so very many things that I could do to you, sweet girl."

His breath brushed against your skin, igniting a shiver that danced along your spine.

"Perhaps it's time we renegotiate the terms of this little arrangement of ours, yes?" He purred, his grip on your chin tightening ever so slightly.

A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, a cruel mockery of affection. You swallowed hard, your throat dry with fear and anticipation.

"What do you mean?" you squeaked, your voice barely more than a whisper.

"I rule over this palace, this city, and over my... beloved children, with an iron first - it's true," he spoke lowly, his gaze never leaving yours, "But an unreasonable man, I am not. You want to refuse to work - to help provide for yourself and your family? For me, the man who gifted you with life eternal and stole you away from the misery of your previous existence? Who took you in from the slums to live in luxury inside of his palace? Well...so be it, darling. You don't want to whore yourself out on the streets? Fine . Allow me to show you what's to be expected of you now - think of this as a chance to prove your worth, hm? If you do well, you'll never have to set foot in the city ever again ."

You hesitated for a moment too long, the uncertainty in your eyes betraying you. Astarion's hand left your chin, replacing it with a firm grip around your upper arm, leading you down the shadowy corridor.

"Come now," he said, his tone gruff but laced with promise. "Let us test your... endurance , shall we?"

The darkness enveloped you as you journeyed deeper into the palace, each step echoing ominously in the dank corridors. With every passing moment, you felt more and more like you were spiraling into an abyss you could never escape.

Astarion stopped abruptly, pulling you to a halt in front of a heavy wooden door. Your stomach dropped.

The Kennels.

The knob turned with a groan, and the door swung open to reveal a small, windowless room, the air inside heavy with the scent of ancient blood and endless anguish.

You took a deep breath, your undead heart twisting violently in your chest. This was where all the "expendable" assets of the household were kept, the lowest of the low - and you knew it.

"Inside," He commanded coldly.

"No!" You cried as you tried to pull away from his grip, "Please, no! I'll be good - Please! Please, I swear it!" But his hold on you only tightened, his fingertips digging into your arm.

"You're going to learn, my dear," He murmured, his voice low and hungry, "You're going to learn to submit to me, one way or another."

With a harsh shove, you stumbled forward into the room. Air rushed out of your lungs as you hit the cold, unyielding stone beneath you, the room's darkness swallowing you whole. Astarion stood over you, his pale silhouette framed by the doorway.

"Careful now, pet," He cooed, clicking his tongue in faux concern. His voice was a melody that belied the danger it carried. "Are you hurt?"

Your palms stung with abrasions as you shuffled backward, your gaze locked onto the elf who towered above you. You hastily examined yourself, feeling the sting of fresh scrapes on your knees, the evidence of your flesh's betrayal: small droplets of blood blossoming against your skin. "I'm fine," you managed, your voice steadier than you felt, propped up on trembling elbows, the fabric of your dress offering scant protection from the chill of the room.

"Fine," he repeated, a predator's grin carving into his features as his eyes flicked to the wounds on your knees before raking over your form. There was something unsettlingly tender about the way he observed you, as if you were both prey and masterpiece all at once.

Astarion's movements were fluid as he began to unbuckle his belt. The leather slid through the loops with an ominous whisper, and the air grew thick with tension. A strange glint, like the edge of a knife, flashed in his eyes, capturing your every fleeting emotion: surprise morphing into disgust, then a shameful twinge of longing that betrayed your better judgment.

"Do you have any idea how long it has been since I've sought... relief, Y/N?" His voice was silk and steel.

"Hours, I presume?" Your voice dripped with malice, belying the flutter of your pulse at the sight of the discarded belt.

A chuckle escaped him, low and resonant, as he methodically worked the buttons of his shirt. "Decades," he corrected, the word punctuated by the soft pop of fabric yielding to his deft fingers.

"Decades seem but moments for someone with eternity at their disposal," you shot back, wearing your defiance as a thin veil.

He shrugged off the shirt, revealing his chest sculpted from moonlight and marble, his smirk cutting through the darkness. "I have not known another's touch since I was but a spawn myself," he confessed, his voice a hush of raw truth that slithered through the shadows. "A time before your father's seed even thought to take root."

Your laughter rang hollow in the confined space. "And am I to believe you've satiated yourself with nothing but your own hand? A creature as comely as yourself?" You challenged, pushing down the unnerving awareness of his proximity.

"Indeed." His affirmation was simple, yet it held the weight of ages within it. "Desire was a luxury stripped from me, a complication I was content to live without." A pause, and then he stepped closer. "Until a vexatious little brat invaded my sanctuary and ignited a problem I presumed to have been long extinguished."

Your mind whirred, caught between disbelief and the dawning realization of what this meant. Your body reacted more honestly than you cared to admit, a thrum of anticipation weaving through your veins despite the gravity of the situation. You cursed yourself inwardly, your instincts betraying you again—how could you desire this monster, this bastard, this tyrant?

His movements were fluid, a whisper of fabric against skin as he untied the laces that held his trousers. His deliberate hands betrayed no urgency, yet each motion was laden with intent. With a deft flick of his wrist, the garment fell away, followed by the muted sound of his underclothes as they joined the heap of discarded attire.

Your gaze traced the lines of his body, a study in contrasts—his pallid skin almost luminous against the room's shadows. Your breath left you as you noted the prominent veins low on his torso, like pale blue rivulets frozen in time, leading to the cradle of his arousal. Your Master stood unabashed, his bare body exposed to your gaze. His manhood, thick and rigid between his legs, continued to swell as he wrapped his long fingers around it. With each stroke of his hand, his cock throbbed and pulsed in response, the movements hypnotic and undeniably human. You couldn't tear your eyes away as he continued to pleasure himself in front of you. A flush crept up your neck at the sight of him, his nakedness and self-pleasure stirring something inside you. With each pull of his hand, more of his flushed head was revealed, his foreskin sliding back and forth like a dance of concealment and revelation that quickened your pulse.

"Undress," he ordered, his voice a velvet demand that left no room for argument. Clearing his throat, he held your gaze, the crimson of his eyes smoldering with a lifetime's worth of longing, suddenly exhumed from the depths of his being.

"Or do you need assistance?" There was a taunt woven into his words, a challenge that roused both defiance and curiosity within you.

"I'm not a child," you spat back, even as your fingers moved to the fastenings of your dress, a traitorous mix of fear and desire propelling your actions. Each button popped open, an audible punctuation to the silence that stretched between you, thick with anticipation.

As fabric parted to unveil your skin, your thoughts tangled with the implications of what lay ahead. Were you yielding to his will or seizing control of the only thing that you could—the power of your own flesh?

"Good girl," Astarion praised, a sinister satisfaction lining his tone. Yet, for all his composure, there was a glint of something else—a flicker of awe or perhaps admiration—at your defiant display of vulnerability.

"I'm not that, either," you whispered teasingly, lying bare before him on the cold stone in all of your glory, your chin lifted in silent rebellion. But the look in his eye, the way it softened ever so slightly, told you that the game had shifted, that this moment was more than a simple exchange of power. It was a crossing of thresholds, a venture into a realm where the line between captor and captive blurred into nothingness, leaving you simply as man and woman, bound by the weight of your desire.

The air grew heavy with the scent of lust as Astarion stepped closer, his hand a rhythmic presence on his needy cock. The moonlight cast an otherworldly glow upon his pale skin, turning it almost translucent as he moved like a creature of myth. He lowered himself to his knees with an effortless grace, parting your legs with a deliberate touch.

" Ahh , but you will be," He rasped. "You're going to be a very, very good girl for Daddy from now on, aren't you?"

You simply stared for a moment as you processed his words, your body responding involuntarily to the command in his tone—your nipples peaked in anticipation. A mix of fear and arousal churned within you as you met his eyes, so deep and captivating it felt as if he could see into the very depths of your soul.

A small, involuntary cry escaped you as Astarion pressed his cockhead against the slick warmth between your thighs. He drew the length of his hardness along your folds slowly, each stroke a promise of what was to come. When the tip brushed your swollen nub, a jolt of pleasure shot through your body, rendering you momentarily speechless.

"Y-yes," you managed to whisper, your eyes locked onto his with a mixture of trepidation and longing.

"Speak up, dear. I didn't quite catch that." His cheeky wit laced his words, though his expression remained intense, demanding.

Your lips parted, the words coming louder this time, filled with the knowledge of the power exchange between them. "Yes, daddy ."

"Again," he commanded, not because he hadn't heard you, but because he relished in the sound of your submission. Each repetition carved your acquiescence deeper into the fabric of this encounter between you.

"Yes, daddy," you repeated, your voice now steady with acceptance.

This was the game Astarion played best, a dance of dominance and surrender. After years of being subjected to Cazador Szarr's cruel whims, the tables had finally turned. Now he wielded control, and in it, he found a dark solace. No longer a pawn, he was now the master of his own desires, a vampire ascendant, savoring the sweet yield of another's will beneath him.

His hips slid forward with just enough force that it sent shivers coursing through your sensitive core. You arched beneath him, your back pressing against the cold stone, your nails scraping against it as you sought purchase. Your breaths came faster, your eyes widening in a mix of shock and pleasure.

"That's it, darling," He coaxed, his voice low and sultry. "Let me hear you say it. Tell Daddy what you want."

"I want you," you confessed, the words tumbling off of your lips like an admission of defeat. "Please fuck me."

Astarion chuckled deep in his throat, something wicked and wild in his eyes. With a burst of motion, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his tongue darting into your mouth, tasting your submission.

"Try again."

"I want you," you said again, your voice shaking with anticipation. "Please, Daddy - Please, fuck me."

Your Master’s eyes burned with desire as he pulled back from your lips, the scent of your arousal filling his senses. He positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock already slick with your juices.

"Is this what you want, sweet girl?" he asked, his voice quiet and seductive, gently teasing your entrance with his swollen head as he spoke, "I need you to be certain."

"Yes, Daddy," you moaned, your hips bucking involuntarily, urging him closer.

With a low growl, Astarion pressed into you, letting out a small groan as his tip popped through the tight threshold of your snug channel. You were so small, so tight, and his cock stretched you like nothing you had ever experienced. The simple feat of taking the fat crown of him into your body had knocked the air from your lungs as your body attempted to adjust to the invasion, the pleasure mingling with the pain of being split open. You thanked the Gods that you no longer required air to live, as the intensity of that first shallow stroke paled in comparison to the fullness of feeling him sink another inch of his rigid shaft into you.

"Y/N," he groaned, his hips pulling back just slightly before pushing forward once more, sinking more of his cock into your tight hole every time he slid in and out of you in a gentle, steady rhythm.

You blinked a few times, mouth agape as your inner walls continued to struggle, hesitant to yield to him in spite of the way your arousal drenched your thighs. You could feel every inch, every pulse, every vein that adorned his hardness as he moved within you, opening you up in ways you had never imagined.

“Gods, Astarion," you whispered, your voice thick with desire. In spite of yourself, you found yourself craving that twinge of pain that pierced through your core each time he pressed a little deeper. Gods, it hurt but then…it felt so fucking good, too. You wanted nothing more than to feel him buried deep inside of you, until his heavy balls were pressed tightly against your bottom.

The pale elf snarled, almost as if he could read your mind - his thrusts becoming more forceful, his hips slamming against your delicate form. A sordid scream tore from your throat as your body was forced to accept him fully, the agonizing pleasure coursing through your veins with each thrust.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony, your moans echoing off the cold stone walls, merging into a symphony of passion and release. Astarion's hands gripped your hips tightly, his fingers digging into your flesh as he thrust into you with fervor.

He leaned down as he whispered into your ear, his voice a velvety promise. "You're going to come for me, aren't you, little one?"

A small moan escaped you, Astarion’s piercing gaze and the depravity of this intimate act overwhelming both body and mind. You could feel the hot wetness of your sex coating your inner thighs and dripping onto the stone below as your climax began to build.

"Yes," you whimpered, your voice filled with raw need. "Fuck, Daddy - I'm so close...,"

Astarion's hips pounded against you with increasing urgency as he felt you nearing your peak. He knew that once you came, you would be his, submission and surrender so complete that it would bind you together forever.

"That's it, darling," he growled, his voice rough with desire. "Come for me. Scream my name as you take me. Let your brothers and sisters know who Daddy's favorite is."

He pumped into you harder, his cock sliding in and out of you with a wet, slapping sound that permeated the air. Your moans grew louder, your body trembling as the intense pleasure built within you. You could feel your orgasm cresting, your walls tightening around his cock.

"Yes," you cried out, your voice strained. "Please, Daddy, I need you - I need to...ahhh!"

Hearing your plea sent a shockwave of desire through Astarion's body, causing him to press into the soft barrier of your cervix over and over again. His cock was like a branding iron, carving his name into the sacred landscape of your womb, of your very soul.

"Gods, yes," You mewled, your eyes locked onto his as the delicious dragging of his thick shaft moving inside of you became too much to bear. With a shuddering gasp, you came undone, your pussy clenching and spasming around him as wave after wave of pure bliss crashed over you.

Astarion watched your face as you came, the way your lips parted, your eyes rolling back into your head, your body bucking beneath him in unbridled passion. He knew this was only the beginning. As your orgasm subsided, he continued to rut into you, his cock twitching and throbbing with each stroke, eager to find its own release.

With each slap of his hips against yours, a whimper escaped your lips, your nails digging into the cold stone as your body was pushed to its limits. The pleasure was almost too much, but you found yourself craving more, wanting to give him everything you had.

As your orgasm faded into a gentle hum, you found yourself wanting to reciprocate. You wrapped your legs around your Master’s waist, pulling him closer to you, allowing him to fuck himself into you as deeply as he desired as your hips matched his rhythm. Your hands clutched him tightly, your nails softly digging into his skin as you found your own desire beginning to resurface.

"Daddy," you pleaded pathetically, "Fuck me. Make me yours. Please."

Astarion's eyes widened for but a moment at your words, his thrusts wavering only for a second before his flesh once again met yours with a punishing pace, the lewd sound of your squelching sex and skin meeting skin echoed off of the walls.

"That's it, sweet girl," he rasped, his voice breaking for just a moment as a moan escaped his lips. "Take it all. Let me feel you around me."

Your eyes locked onto his, your breaths coming in short gasps as pleasure and pain mingled within you, creating a symphony of sensations that threatened to consume you and suddenly you noticed that familiar tension building within you once again.

"Ahh, fuck...please," You cried, "Fuck, its too much..."

A choked scream tore from your chest before his name spilled from your lips, your body writhing beneath your master as his fangs pierced the skin of your neck.

Astarion drank deeply, the taste of your blood filling him with a sense of completeness he had never known. He pulled away, his lips leaving a faint kiss on the mark he had made on your neck.

"Ssshh - you're taking it so well, darling," he groaned, his hands gripped your hips roughly, pulling you tightly against him. "I'm so close, love. Come with me."

Your body trembled as your climax grew closer with each thrust of his cock into your wet heat. It felt like a wildfire, igniting every nerve and sensitive spot in your body.

"Please, Daddy," you whined, your voice barely audible over the sound of your bodies joining. " Ahhh -"

Astarion pistoned himself into you, his thrusts becoming erratic as once again you approached your peak. Your pussy clenched around him, urging him closer to his own release.

"That's it, pet," he purred, "Let it happen. Let go."

Your eyes fluttered shut, your body trembling as you surrendered to the sensations coursing through you. The agonizing fullness of your master spearing into your core all but consumed you entirely as you came undone once again - you cried his name from your lips, the sound reverberating throughout the palace.

With a deep, guttural growl, Astarion sank into you one final time, burying every last inch of himself inside of your pretty little cunt as his aching balls tightened. Every muscle in his body tensed and quivered as he emptied himself inside you, your bodies coming together in a carnal display of ecstasy and release. Your breathing was heavy and ragged, the sweat on your skin mingled with one another as you laid locked in each other's embrace. The intensity of the moment consumed you both, leaving you both trembling with raw passion and desire.

The quivering shadows on the walls seemed to dance with your lingering tremors, echoes of your pleasure slowly subsiding. Astarion withdrew himself from your tender warmth, leaving a palpable emptiness in his wake.

"Shh," He whispered against your flushed skin, his lips brushing your face and neck with a tenderness that belied his predatory nature, a stark contrast to the fervor you had just shared. With hands both firm and gentle, he turned you onto your stomach, the cool stone pressing against your cheek as you complied wordlessly.

Your hips were lifted by his confident grasp, baring you to him once more. The air caressed your exposed flesh, heightening your awareness of your own vulnerability and the wet that continued to coat and trickle down your thighs—a tribute to your union. Astarion's purr vibrated through the silence, a sound of dark satisfaction as he admired the sight before him.

"Look at you... such a good girl for me, Y/N." His voice was soft yet sinister, a paradox that sent shivers down your spine. As he stroked the swell of your ass with an almost reverent touch, you braced yourself. Expecting a strike that never came.

"Thank... thank you, Master," you managed, your words trembling as much as your body. Your eyes, heavy-lidded with exhaustion, sought out his face. Even now, his attention was fixated on the proof of his possession, the essence of him that marked you as his own.

His fingers traced the intimate path where your bodies had been joined, gathering the evidence of his claim and deliberately pushing it back inside of you with a possessiveness that was both invasive and oddly comforting. You winced, the sensation overwhelming yet incomplete without him filling you entirely.

"Is it too much?" he teased, his tone laced with feigned concern and a pout that only served to mock. You could see the glint of amusement in his eyes, the playful cruelty that he so often enjoyed.

You shook your head, a silent plea for him to continue, to test the boundaries of your resilience. You would endure; you would be good.

You promised.

#astarion #astarion ancunin #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #baldur’s gate astarion #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 astarion #astarion smut #daddy k!nk

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renegadesstuff · 1 year

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The way she smiles when she is with him 🥹❤️

#castle #kate beckett #caskett #richard castle #castle x beckett #beckett and castle #castle and beckett #beckett x castle #4x22 #Undead Again #castle rewatch

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vintagerpg · 3 months

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After TSR died and was brought back to an undead half-life by Wizards of the Coast, there came a set of adventures that returned to classic 1e adventure sites. The first was 1998’s Return to the Tomb of Horrors box set (which I covered a while back). It was followed a trio of “silver anniversary” branded books and modules, first of which was Against the Giants: The Liberation of Geoff (1999). I know Geoff is a dutchy or whatever in Greyhawk, but I still have a hard time with the title because it sounds like it should be a novel about a guy named Geoff’s sexual awakening, possibly written by D. H. Lawrence.

Anyway, Geoff was invaded and subjugated by giants. You need to kick ‘em out. The first section of the book presents the original G-series modules, updated to 2E. That’s followed by a general sort of sourcebook on Geoff, which is further divided into a collection of adventure sites which are basically towns subjugated by various evil humanoids — orc town, ogre town, wererat town. The three main locales (each accompanied by a couple minor locations) form up three additions G-series modules, sorta. There’s G4: Mount Rungnirheim (more frost giants?), G5: Castle Thrasmotnir (more fire giants?) and G6: Cloud Islands of the Sakhut (cloud giants). It is odd to me that we got more frost and fire (god, just typing that out, I heard it sung by Cirith Ungol) when the stone giants and storm giants are out there, getting no love. The second batch of frost giants at least are prone to having multiple heads, which seems weird but also I like it.

And that’s…basically it. If you want more giants, you got more giants! The book mostly shrugs at the original G-series sub-plot involving the drow — if you finished G3, the plot’s been disrupted, the caves collapsed, the drow in retreat for however long it takes them to build up their nerve again. I’m OK with that!

Brom on the cover. Wayne Reynolds inside. It’s a good looking module.

#tabletop rpg #roleplaying game #dungeons & dragons #rpg #ttrpg #d&d #Against The Giants #Liberation Of Geoff #noimport

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sanjoongie · 12 days

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𝑰 𝒃𝒆𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒚𝒐𝒖

🏵First Flower chosen for The Language of Flowers event held by @cultofdionysusnet

🏵Prompt Chosen: Zinnia {loyalty}

🏵Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader (f)

🏵Genre: smut, angst

🏵Trope: soulmate, immortal love

🏵Au: Vampire au, sleeping beauty inspired

🏵Rating: 18+, MDNI

🏵Warnings: supernatural strength and speed as per a vampire's powers, mentions of blood, death, war, {Kinks} penetrative sex with no barrier, wet grinding?, over stim, praise kink, Switch! reader, switch! yeonjun

🏵Word Count: 3,163

🏵Beta's: @downtoamagicalland & @mejuii

🏵Summary: when you, a vampire master, learned of your lover Yeonjun's death, you fell into a deep sleep rather than mourn the loss. Yeonjun, as it turned out, wasn't dead but was devoted to waiting until you woke up. This is your story~

🏵banner by @cafekitsune

~~~Present time~~~

Yeonjun laid against the glass coffin where you rested, sighing hard enough to fog up the glass for a moment. He traced a heart through the condensation and then laughed at his own corniness. To make matters worse, his situation with you was a bit of a Romeo and Juliet vibe and it almost made him roll his eyes at how horribly cliched it truly was.

During an uprising of the peasant-human fiefdoms, Yeonjun as your right hand and lover had gone to quell a major rebellion. News had travelled back that Yeonjun had been mortally wounded and ashes had been sent to you in a perfume bottle. When your fiefdoms had been settled and the humans soothed to the point of peace again, you went into a deep slumber, mourning the loss of your love.

In actuality, Yeonjun had been wounded but simply restrained and unable to return to you. By the time he had arrived at the castle, it had been too late. So he waited loyally by your coffin for you to wake up.

Some vampires slumber for a few hundred years. Living as an immortal can be draining, and so, a deep slumber is necessary to maintain your sanity. But you had gone to sleep with a broken heart. So after centuries had passed, and your anniversary of your slumber bordered on half a millennia, Yeonjun wondered if you were ever going to wake up.

And still, he remained by your side. How could he ever abandon you, after you thought he had died? He visited you every sunset, as soon as he woke up from his daytime slumber, visiting your coffin with flowers and a bright smile. He would tell you of what happened within the kiss recently, keeping you up to date in case you absorbed his words. He never once left the castle or took on another lover. His heart was yours, and as an immortal, that meant until both of your undead hearts were ripped from your chests.

“My love,” Yeonjun sighed for the umpteenth time, gazing upon your slumbering visage.

Yeonjun's heart ached that you were so close and yet so far away. Did you dream of him in your deep sleep? Is that why you never awoke? Because you could be with him in your dreams if not in your waking hours?

~~~In the Past~~~

You dreamt of a simpler time with Yeonjun. You had just become a master vampire and Yeonjun, looking to move up in a court, wooed you to his best abilities. You entertained his advances, if only to amuse yourself.

“And where do you see yourself in a century or two?” you wondered, lazily drawing a sharp-nailed hand along his side as the two of you lay in bed.

Yeonjun pushed his lips to the side in thought, his hand buried in his bed head hair. “Truthfully? I crave to be written in our books of history. I want my name to be penned in ink.”

You knew he was a social climber but you didn't know he wanted to make a name for himself in that regard. “Truly?”

Yeonjun nodded. “Why else be immortal if not to be immortalized in history as well?”

You moved to lie on your stomach to focus on the conversation at hand. “How much of our histories have you read?”

Yeonjun smiled, somewhat embarrassed. “A lot. Most of them. There’s a few periods I haven’t been able to get my hands on. The Rose Wars seem to be kept by only the oldest of us.” You raised an eyebrow at him and he had the decency to duck his head and laugh. “Yes, that includes you.”

“There’s a reason the Rose Wars aren’t readily available.” You sighed, drawing a sheet up with you as you made to sit on the side of the bed.

Yeonjun wrapped his arms around you from behind and absentmindedly bit you on your shoulder. He didn’t break skin but it was almost a worried movement, like a puppy that needed to teeth. “Is that a no?”

You patted his hand in reassurance. “That’s a no for now, my pet,” you informed him.

“Is there something else I could tempt you into saying yes to?” Yeonjun’s voice lilted, teasing and tempting wrapped into one sentence.

“There’s a few things you could tempt me into saying yes to, Yeonjun,” you mused.

“Ride me? Ride me hard?” Yeonjun practically whispered into your skin.

You found that you couldn't say no, like you figured.

Yeonjun had a perfect body to gaze upon while you rode him. Since it was his request to ride him hard, you glided your pussy lips along his length and made him squirt on his stomach for the first round. Insatiable for the faces and noises he made when he came, you were quick to push his cock inside of you, covered in his own cum, enjoying the stretch that came with it. You were bouncing on him in no time, making Yeonjun cry out.

“So much!” He moaned, blunt nails digging into your thighs and hips, leaving crescent moons in their wake.

“You can take it, can’t you, my pet?” You purred, pussy pumping his cock for pleasure.

Yeonjun nodded, tears threatening to spill down his face. Once he worked through the over stim, his hips began to buck up into your ass, seeking pleasure that your cunt was giving. Your body undulated above him in waves, taking it slow. You moved a hand behind you to brace your weight, watching as Yeonjun’s cock dived into your swollen cunt again and again.

“Such a pretty cock for such a pretty man,” You teased.

Yeonjun’s fangs delicately dug into his lips. You could see he was attempting to hold back his own pleasure to wait for your own but he was simply too easy to pet and wind up. He watched with wide eyes as you sucked on your middle finger and brought it to your clit. He couldn't handle the way your pussy clenched with the added pleasure and he came inside of you, his second orgasm of the night.

You tsked loudly, watching the blood he had drunk from the vessel you two had shared climb up his neck and cheeks in a heated blush. “You have some training to do, Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun panted, a whine threatening to escape the back of his throat. His cock was still hard inside of you but you were overstimulating him again. You leaned forward to chuck his chin. “Take it, my pet. You won’t have to endure this if you could only hold your own pleasure back.”

Yeonjun’s fists curled into the sheets below him, that previous whine finally growing big enough to pour from his pretty pink lips. His body attempted to shrink away from the pleasure/pain you were giving him but there was no avoiding it when his cock was so deep inside of you.

“How…can I…hnnnnn…compete against…your experience?” Yeonjun managed to push out.

You chuckled darkly. “You’re the one that looked to seduce an elder, youngling.”

Yeonjun laughed, and you wondered if you’d push this one past his line of sanity. “If I had known what I was getting into…”

You moved to press your chest against his, lips a mere whisper from touching his. “Would you have stopped yourself?” You wondered.

“No, I would have prepared,” Yeonjun corrected you.

You slanted your lips over his, giving him a messy kiss, careful of his fangs. Yours were carefully tucked away, a trick one learned later in your vampire life. “I prefer to break my toys,” You told him.

Yeonjun locked his arms behind your back, with the new strength a youngling vampire possessed. He was stronger than you, in this moment, and there was nothing you could do to stop him--physically at least. You could have sucked him of all his lifeblood or hypnotized him to slit his own wrists if need be, but you wanted to see what Yeonjun would do. With his new speed, you found yourself on your hands and knees, your face pushed into the sheets where only moments Yeonjun’s back was on. This new angle hit deep inside of you, and you moaned at the sensations it brought as well.

“If--If--” The slapping of Yeonjun’s pelvis to your ass was punctuated by Yeonjun’s hisses at the feeling of his cock inside of you. “If I can hold back this time--If I can make you come--You’ll give me the book I need.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” You laughed, muffling another groan as Yeonjun’s cock was hitting the deep part of you.

“A chapter,” Yeonjun bargained.

You laughed again but Yeonjun wasn’t giving up. He grabbed your wrists and crossed them behind your back. Your ass was truly bouncing off his pelvis now. You had to give him this; he was fucking you good. Good enough to keep him around, maybe.

“You think one lousy withheld orgasm is enough to learn restricted texts?” You barked in disbelief.

Yeonjun grasped both your elbows, pulling your lower body upwards, giving all the leverage and control he needed to truly fuck you. You were at a loss of words now. All you could do was moan in pleasure but Yeonjun wasn’t as pussy drunk as he had been before. Had it been an act for you to lower your guard?

“I’ll fuck you for a hundred years, receive a word for each day, if that meant I could learn.”

The words shock you to your core, and almost sober you. “Who are you?”

“You know my name.” Yeonjun’s smirk could be heard through his voice. “Scream it loudly so the others can hear it.”

~~~Present time~~~

“Are you going to see her again?” Taehyun asked with wide eyes.

Beomgyu twitched his phone left and right as he played a game on it. “Of course he is. He’s stupid. That hasn’t changed.”

“Beomgyu!” Soobin scolded the younger vampire.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes. “What? You think so too.”

Soobin rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeonjun, look--”

Yeonjun waved his hand at Soobin, half his face pulled into a sneer. “Don’t bother, Soobin.”

“Do you even remember what her voice sounds like?” Kai asked the hard questions.

“We’re together when we sleep, of course I do,” Yeonjun shouted over his shoulder.

The castle was so old, he had to watch his step. Torches had changed to flickering lights to LED mood lights. The world had changed but Yeonjun’s resolve hadn't. He was going to be there when you woke up. When, being the key word.

Life was different now. Instead of fiefdoms, vampires owned well-to-do companies. Beomgyu owned half of Silicon Valley. Blood taking was exchanged through Snapchat and Whatsapp. The vampires didn’t fight much over territory anymore but you might see a few get into it at a club, if they had a long-standing feud. The only thing that hadn't changed was Yeonjun’s unwavering loyalty to you.

~~~In the Past~~~

A hundred years soon passed. Yeonjun was barely through a quarter of the history he had sought after but it almost wasn’t as important as it had been when he first had sought to make himself a part of your life. Now, he was your right hand, the one who ensured your choices and rulings were followed. He easily killed in your name. It wasn’t that he utterly loved you, which was the case, but more so your mind, your justice, was law and word for him. He would follow you into the bowels of hell and back, if only to make sure your feet never felt a spark of heat from the underworld.

“Yeonjun?”

Your lover was always a step or two behind you no matter where you went. Tonight you were on the rooftops of your castle, viewing the beautiful night sky. The moon was mostly covered with a shadow and that saddened you. You had wished to see her in all of her glory. At least you had the stars.

“My love?” Yeonjun moved to your side, palm sliding along yours until his hand clasped yours.

“There’s a war coming. The air smells of unrest. The humans are a superstitious lot but the world’s been bad to them these few decades. They’ll look to revolt. They usually always do when they think there’s someone to blame.”

Yeonjun slid to lean on one knee, bringing your hand to his lips as he kissed it. “I will eradicate them.”

Your eyes slid to Yeonjun. He wasn’t a youngling anymore but he didn’t have the centuries you had under your belt. He had yet to really read the ebb and flow, despite his years with his nose in a book. He would get there. You had faith.

Your eyes moved back to the sky. Even the ocean full of lights changed, and it seemed untouched by time. “Just prepare yourself, my pet.”

Yeonjun perked up, and if he had been a dog, his ears would have been pointed forward to you to listen. “Can we play tonight?”

You tossed back your head and laughed. Tears beaded at the corner of your eyes, you were laughing so hard. “You’d think that your libido would have died down a smidgeon.”

Yeonjun slowly but firmly kissed up your arm. “I always crave your body; I am never satiated.”

“I love you,” You murmured.

Yeonjun’s eyes softened, eyes lighting up with adoration of you. “My heart will only stop beating when yours does.”

You scoffed. “Such an outdated way to commit yourself as a vampire. We died a long time ago, Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun looked at you with every serious bone in his body. “If there is no you, there is no me. Our bones and muscles are knit together. There is no beginning or end. It is simply you and me.”

“I thought you read history not poetry,” You teased. Still, you exchanged a loving kiss.

“I read whatever I can get my hands on,” Yeonjun argued, lips chasing after yours when you sought to finish the kiss. “Now answer my question.”

You cupped Yeonjun’s soft cock through his leather pants. “Let’s get you some blood first. Then we can play to your heart's content.”

Yeonjun’s fingertips tickled your jaw as he looked to steal more kisses. “I need only your breath against my lips, your heartbeat against mine--oof!” He clutched his stomach where you had hit him. “Okay, enough poetic words, I get it!”

~~~Present Time~~~

Yeonjun found his familiar place by your coffin, folding his arms under his chin so he could stare at your face. These days he swore he could see micro expressions on your face. He was sure he could tell when you were reliving your nightmares instead of dreams. There was the tiniest of frown lines between your eyebrows but no one else could see it when he pointed out. He could also tell when you were living the good times with him. He had studied the curve of your lips for centuries; he fucking knew when they had a sliver of a smile. He often made you do that when you were awake, not looking to validate his corny lines.

You were waking up soon. He knew it. Once upon a time, you told him that you could anticipate what would happen next. That you had lived so many lives and so many faces that you had accumulated the sense when change was coming. Yeonjun had finally earned that trick after centuries of watching over you.

“I have so much to show you when you wake up,” Yeonjun sighed softly. “But first, you're going to fuck me until I can't forget what it feels like to be inside of you again.”

“Yeon…jun…?”

Yeonjun threw himself backwards, the raspy voice coming from the glass coffin filled with flowers scaring him. He rubbed his eyes, blinked several times and then crawled back up to where you were lying. Your eyes were pale, indicating you definitely needed some blood, but they were open.

Tears gathered at the corners of Yeonjun’s eyes but he smiled so brightly. “You’re awake.”

Your eyes widened with the recognition that your lover was indeed not dead. You sat up with speed becoming of a vampire, sending the top of the glass coffin straight into the wall adjacent. It shattered with bone-rattling noise, but you only had eyes for Yeonjun. “You’re alive.”

“I have waited for you,” Yeonjun sobbed, his shoulders shaking. “I have been here while you slumbered, guarding your body. Have you dreamt of me, my love? Was I good to you in your dreams?”

You raised your sharp-nailed hand to cup Yeonjun’s face. His tears wetted your hand but you cared not. “How long?”

Yeonjun hiccupped. “I’m almost as old as you were when you began to sleep.”

“Oh, Yeonjun,” You lamented.

“I was here every day. Every year. Every century. I knew you would need to see me, to touch me to believe I was real. I don’t care how long you slept. I just wanted to be here when you woke up.” Yeonjun’s shoulders finally stopped quivering, calming down.

You smiled so tenderly at Yeonjun in that moment, and he swore he might break, like the glass coffin lid you had shattered only moments ago. This moment didn’t feel real but it was all Yeonjun wanted, for this to be real. “You really did mean when you said that it is simply you and me.”

Yeonjun took your hand cupping his face and brought it to his lips to kiss the back of it, just like the last night you shared before you were fooled into thinking he was no more. It made your throat tighten with emotion. “My heart will only stop beating when yours does.”

You surged forward, throwing your arms around Yeonjun’s neck, and kissed him. You kissed him like it had been you waiting five hundred years for HIM to wake up. “I love you,” you gasped. “My heart will only stop beating when yours does.”

Yeonjun lifted you out of your coffin, cradling you in his arms. He carried you into the main chamber of the castle. He had to cross through them to bring you to his bedroom--your shared bedroom.

“Holy shit.” Beomgyu whistled. “She's fucking awake.”

Kai dropped his phone on his face in shock while Soobin smacked the back of Beomgyu’s head. “Have some respect.”

Taehyun teared up but dashed his tears away. “Romance isn’t dead!”

“Wait…Yeonjun! Where are you going?” Soobin called out.

You chuckled under your breath. “Did you say I was going to fuck you until you can't forget what it feels like to be inside of me again?”

Yeonjun hefted you in his arms so he could bury his face into your neck. “I know you just came from a coffin but I don't think you will be leaving the bed for a few days.”

#codn: spring24 #cultofdionysusnet #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #txt smut #choi yeonjun smut #tomorrow x together smut #yeonjun smut #choi yeonjun x reader #topaz's work #recent #ツtxt

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thegoatsongs · 8 months

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Imagine how angry Dracula is at this very point.

And at whom the most, exactly.

Dracula was all suave and "patient" with Jonathan and self-assured, enjoying their cat-and-mouse game. He almost got mad at him a few times, but Jonathan always managed to calm him down by performing submission well. In the end, Dracula became wrathful with him when Jonathan dared to break into his room and strike him with the shovel, but Dracula had already gotten what he wanted from Jonathan, left him in the castle forever, and moved on.

Then he failed to steal the wheel from the Captain and the logs/evidence, which as we know he hates (burning Jonathan's letter, making Lucy tear hers). Ended up crashing on Whitby. This is very likely an added frustration.

Then he was chased away by Mina when he first bit Lucy at the cemetery. If it had not been for Mina, who kept Lucy in the house (and forcing him to sneak and bite her by the window as a bat only) Dracula could have turned Lucy a long time ago now.

He saw Mina's face.

Then he kept being antagonized by Van Helsing, and the three suitors while trying to turn Lucy. Again and again and again and again. We know from Lucy's account about the bat that it was watching it all while flying in a furious manner. He succeded, but they all made him pretty angry.

And worse of all, for him, now Mina comes in after Lucy's turning and she completely and thoroughly masks him off.

Now, because of her and her husband's survival, all the men who antagonised him are as a result breaking into his houses, chasing off his minions, and destroying his vital boxes. Even his thrall is now on her side.

His entire plan is at stake because of Mina, and he's Pissed.

He is not feeding on her for sustenance. It's spite. He wants her to belong to him, undead.

#dracula daily #dracula #jonathan harker #mina harker #lucy westenra #van helsing #jack seward #arthur holmwood #quincey morris #mina murray

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dollwrites · 1 year

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𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐞 — 𝐝𝐢𝐨 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader, dark fic, noncon, fear kink, graphic depictions of death and gore, chasing, manhandling, threats against reader, degradation, virgin!reader, oral sex ( f!receiving ), size kink, blackout mention, Dio is very mean, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ sugar on my tongue by the talking heads

you could hear his laugh— evil and taunting— booming through the abysmal corridor behind you, and the hissing and snarling of his undead army that was also in hot pursuit. “Where are you running off to, hmm?” he calls, and the baritone surrounds you. he’s not everywhere, you try to tell yourself, it’s just the echoes. “I won’t let you leave the castle grounds. However, by all means, go on and try, get your sweet blood pumping!” another morbid laugh like distant thunder, and you take the first new hallway that opens up to the left. “I can smell it from here, that lovely smell will lead me straight to you.”

you’d made a mistake coming here so late at night, with a boy you hardly even knew. you’d kissed him, and let him loosen your corset, even though you felt uneasy. even though you’d never kissed a boy before. even though the whole night felt wrong. then, the laughter started. from somewhere deep in the blackest shadows, a predator stalked, watched, and found amusement in your innocent fumbling and uncertainty, and stepped into the light. he named himself Dio right before he ripped the boy in half right in front of you. some of his blood was still seeping into the cotton of your dress. what he hadn’t seen, however, was the jagged stone you’d hidden underneath your skirt, clutching it tight in the palm of your fragile hand. so, whenever he scooped you into his arms, and leaned in to taunt you, or perhaps even kiss you, you’d swung the rock as hard as you could, making direct contact with his sculpted cheekbone, breaking the skin. it wasn’t much, but it was enough for his grip to loosen enough so that you could slip through his arms and run.

you were panting, your lungs burning in your chest, your eyes puffy and sore from crying. but one glance over your shoulder yielded the confirmation; the reason you couldn’t stop— hundreds of ghouls had crammed themselves into the hallway, some staggering after you, others chasing you on all fours. you turn your eyes forward again, ignoring the hem of your skirt that catches on a dilapidated and unrecognizable statue, ripping a slit all the way up to your thigh, and both hands hit a sturdy door when you hit the dead end of the corridor, slamming yourself into it with a pathetic huff. luckily, the door, like the rest of the manor, is old and crumbling, and it whines as it flies open and you stumble over the threshold, only to let out a blood curdling scream.

inches from your feet is a pile of innards, and what could’ve been a corpse at one time, but has since been devoured, piece by piece, by the monsters squatting down over it. they both look up and growl, clumps of half-eaten human flying from their bloodied mouths as you stumble back. you wanted to collapse, but didn’t have the time.

countless pairs of gruesome hands snatched at you, dragging you into a horde of them. you wailed and fought against them, half expecting to be shredded, too. you weren’t, however you could hear — and feel — your dress tearing as they snatched at you. your neckline ripped, one sleeve hanging loosely against your arm and the other chunk of fabric lost in the sea of rotting bodies as they tossed you back and forth. your throat is hoarse from screaming when you’re finally spit out the opposite end of the crowd, and flung right into Dio’s arms, which welcome you with a tight grip on one wrist and the other palm splayed over your midriff, pulling your back to his solid frame. “No!” you cry out, but he’s already twisting your wrist.

“Now, now,” he croons against your neck, wringing your wrist until the blood-stained stone falls from your grip and clatters against the floor, “listen to that heart thumping.” you felt sick to your stomach when you realized he could hear it. “Fragile, little thing is about to beat right out of your chest.” you squirm, trying desperately to pull away from him, but his lips have sought out the cuts on your palm, turning it over to expose them to his mouth. first, they graze over the wounds, and you wince. “You’re about as nervous and dangerous as a newborn kitten.” his tongue slithers out to prod at the scratches, urging more blood to the surface, and he smirks as he tastes it. his lips then travel, parted and dragging over your skin, up your arm, ignoring the sleeve that hangs in tatters, and he presses you back into him tighter when he reaches your throat. “So soft— I could rip your jugular out with one bite.”

“P—please—“ you rasp, the tips of his fangs tingling against your hypersensitive flesh.

“Such a meek, little plea,” he teases, the expanse of his massive hand careening upwards over your breast to rest against your heartbeat, his digit tips just barely touching your chin, “what are you begging for, kitten?” he allows their sharpness to scrape, and you whimper, melting against him and hoping to become so small he couldn’t reach you. it was impossible, as his face was buried in your neck already, but you tried nonetheless.

“I—I don’t want to die…”

he laughs at this, as does his minions, and you feel a burning humiliation creep upon your cheeks. “No? Are you afraid of dying?” he asks, feigning sympathy, and his fingers take hold of your face. he angles it towards him, and your tear-filled gems look up at his stone-cold countenance. you nod, the scratch on his cheek was healing as you watched, and your mountainous captor stared down at you. the crown of your head is pressed against his chest; you were just so damn small compared to him. “Are you afraid of me?” another nod, and his crimson eyes flicker over your petrified expression. you couldn’t catch your breath— your lips parted and hot puffs of air wheezing out, your chest rising and falling beneath the stretched fabric of what was left of your neckline. you avoided looking into his eyes, but you could tell he was drinking in every inch of you. “Smart decision for a very stupid girl.” he replies, dipping his head towards you. you start to pull away, recoil, but his grip on your cheeks hold you in place. that devious tongue of his skirts along his lower lip, tasting your broken breath as it lands on his tiers. then, his carmine eyes flicker up to yours, and his smile widens, “Tell me that you fear me.”

you couldn’t even think— you were staring, wide eyed and horrified into two, piercing rubies. he wanted to hear how scared you were, he wanted you to say it out loud, but there was a lump so big and dry in your throat that you didn’t think you could force the words past it.

“Come now, don’t keep me waiting.”

you gasp when he squeezes your cheeks together hard, forcing your lower lip to poke out in a childish pout, and you acquiesce to his will. “I’m afraid,” you whisper, each syllable hard pressed to slip into the air, “I’m— I’m afraid of you—“

Dio chortles, closing what was left of a gap between he and you, and his tongue ran along the shape of your lips. you flinch, and seal them tight, but he’d already gotten his taste. “Mm…” he moans, more to himself, and runs his tastebuds over his own mouth, and then flicks at his fangs. “I do love the taste of fear on those pretty lips, like sugar…” he croons and places a sloppy kiss on your mouth. regardless of how you wanted to reject it, he forces your lips to fit against his with a hard push, opening them wide so that he may shove his tongue inside. you squeal in protest against his mouth, wriggling and desperate to get free, but his strength too greatly outweighed your own. your own tongue bunches up in resistance, trying to push his out of your mouth, but you start to gag on it. you considered biting down on his, biting it off even, but ultimately decided against it.

you were in no position to fight back anymore.

when he’s drank his fill of your kiss, he pulls back, the lips that have battered your own dripping and shiny with your saliva and stretched over deadly fangs, and you pant, twisting in his grip. he watches you for a moment, amused. “I would wager you taste just as sweet everywhere, don’t you?” you shook your head, cheeks on fire and eyes closed tightly, pulling in the opposite direction, but his hand drops, grabbing the neckline of your dress in a powerful fist and tearing it with a swift yank. the force is enough to arch your back, the fabric screaming, and then your breasts are bare and exposed, rising with heavy, nervous breaths.

there’s a whooping from the horde of undead as they crowd closer around, licking and biting at the air as if they can taste your fear in it, and you recoil away from them, pushing you deeper into Dio’s wicked embrace, which wasn’t ideal, either.

“Look at this,” he purrs, sharp nails dragging over your otherwise unmarked skin. they trace his name, slowly, as he takes in your visage, “skin so fresh and supple.” his eyes twinkle, pure malevolence behind them as the tip of his nail traces your nipple, watching it harden as he does. “I could think of a hundred different ways to paint you crimson, my dear.” you shake your head, whimpering in soft protest, and he cocks his head to the side, “What? You don’t think red would look so pretty on you? The color of roses?” he chuckles, grabbing a fistful of your tender breast and squeezing until you mewl and sag into the rough treatment, “Timid, little thing, aren’t you? Frightened so easily.” his head dips, tongue dragging along your nipple, and when you gasped, your thighs clamping together to stop the feeling of his teasing flooding your core, he reads you like an open book. “I think you like this.” you start to shake your head yet again, but his hand has already abandoned your chest, hiking your skirt up to feel between your thighs. they were slick with sweat and… something else. your desire and shame. “You’re dripping, kitten. Do you enjoy my teasing that much?”

your thighs press harder into each other, but his fingers work to pry them apart, slipping in between to feel your bare sex. you choke back a gasp, your only free hand grasping at his wrist trying to pull it from your core as you jerk against his rubbing, but it was as effective as an ant trying to push a thumb away before it’s crushed beneath the force. “N—no…” but, much to your own dismay, you were soaking his fingertips and he was howling with amusement.

“Well, now, isn’t this cunt just so sensitive— I’ve hardly even touched you, and you’re all jitters already. Could I have caught a little virgin in my web?” humiliation floods your eyes, and you close them tight, turning your face away from him and digging your chin into your shoulder. he coos, leaning close enough for you to feel the chill or his skin against your cheek, and the ghastly drag of his lips as he spoke, “Good. The first and only cock you’ll ever wrap around will be Dio’s, your new master.”

“…I want to wake up…” you beg under your breath. surely, this had to be a terrible nightmare. so you kept biting down on your lip and repeating it. “I want… to wake up…”

“Eh?” he asks, grinning, “Stupid thing thinks she’s dreaming.” a wave of vicious cackling rolls through the corridor, and you shudder. a moment later, you feel him shifting, dropping to his knees in front of you. cautiously, you crack one eyelid and look down to see him ripping what was left of your skirt aside. there’s a flurry of cotton before it all settles on the floor. you shiver, stumbling back. Dio releases your wrist and grasps one ankle, hiking it up on to his shoulder. it threw your balance completely off; even on his knees, the man before you was still monstrous, and you were forced to stand on the tip toes of the opposite foot to stay upright. “Let’s find out if fear makes your cunt as sweet as your lips.”

both eyes opened wide, but you had no time to react before he was smashing his face against your sex, the bridge of his nose creating a solid cradle for your aching clit, and the thick muscle hiding in his mouth wiggled between your netherlips, gathering the taste of your essence on to his tastebuds. he growled, and the sound vibrated against you, sending every nerve into overdrive. both your hands dig into his golden locks, pulling hard to attempt to force his head back, but the scratching and scrambling didn’t phase him one bit. he didn’t budge, instead he laughed, then his words were slurred against you. “Don’t be so ungrateful,” his eyes glint in the dusky moonlight pouring through a broken window, and it seems so shameful and sinful to look down your naked torso at him. you could see the muscles in your own tummy contract when he nuzzled against your clit, and you clamped one hand over your mouth to keep your moans quiet. crying out for how good it felt would only make this all too real— and would give him the satisfaction of knowing that you couldn’t control it. “Your new god is on his knees for you, lapping at your trembling pussy. You should be singing my praises.” none too gently, he snags your clit with his teeth, creating a vice around it and rolling his tongue over the nub.

you bleat, and your knees buckle— the sole leg holding you up giving out. but Dio doesn’t let you crumble. with one hand fleeing, he wraps a massive fist around your throat to hold you in place, the furious muscles of his gargantuan arm hard and bulging against your torso. the pressure is enough to startle you, even though he doesn’t squeeze. you imagine the beast of a man could break your neck with little effort. this new grip occupies your mind, and your hands try to wrap themselves around his wrist instead, but it’s even too big for your fingertips to meet.

“You are a pathetic little kitty cat, aren’t you?” he teases, suckling on your clit until you see stars behind your eyelids, and your toes are curling, “You can’t even stand up on your own anymore. Just a few, easy flicks of my tongue and you’re putty in my hands. Makes my cock hard watching you lose this fight, knowing you know you’re fucked.”

you don’t want him to be right, but when he punctuates his statement by licking a fat stripe between your netherlips, you cry out, and your nails dig into his tough flesh. “Please!! Ha— have mercy…”

“Go on,” he urges, “cry for mercy. Scream for me. It won’t change a thing. You belong to me, now, and I’m going to break you in every way possible, starting with tongue fucking never ending orgasms out of your delicate, little body until it gives out. You’ll black out, and wake up to my big cock stretching you open.”

#dio brando x you #dio #dio brando #dio x reader #dio x you #dio smut #dio brando x reader #dio brando smut #jjba #jjba x reader #jjba x you #jjba smut #jjba imagine #jojo’s bizzare adventure x reader #jojo x you #jojo’s bizarre adventure x you #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo

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