Castlevania Writings

A side-blog for all of Darthsuki's Castlevania-specific writing, including headcanons, drabbles and other reader-centric content for the Netflix original series. Quick Navigation Headcanons Drabbles Readershots Asks/Questions kofiwidget2.init('Support Me on Ko-fi', '#ae4533', 'A6872BL');kofiwidget2.draw();

[castlevaniawritings]

How do you think Dracula fucks 😩 I’m such a thirsty ass heathen bro I’m so sorry

At the core, Dracula is equal parts suave and beastly--particularly without realizing it, since he’s spent so much of his life away from other people (namely humans, but also generally speaking) and has developed a rather standoffish perspective in the matter. Assuming you’ve been successful at earning the vampire’s affections or interests in such intimate affairs, you’ll be quick to realize that his habits in matters of hunger--be it for blood or sex--are similar across the board.

Since he’s lived for such a long time, the man has developed at least a natural talent with words and how to use them effectively--but he is also incredibly blunt, never having developed a reason to play coy or ignorant in matters of things he’s wanted. If he wants to fuck, you’ll certainly never be questioning it--through words, actions or a combination of the two, Dracula will certainly leave an obvious impression for you to respond to one way or another. The details will depend on each unique encounter as well as your relationship with him--perhaps you will find yourself with seductive words whispering next to your ear in a darkened hall, or mayhap yet be swept off your feet into his arms as he carries you off into the bedroom. 

Likewise to his bluntness, the vampire has very little shame about his wants and needs. Depending on your own preferences on communication and sense of dignity, there may be more than a handful of half-awkward conversations because he is extremely willing to describe in explicit detail the sorts of things he’d like to do to you and your body. 

As for particular habits and kinks, you’ll certainly be hard-pressed to find a man with more general knowledge of the subject. Partially due to his vampiric age and partially yet do to his constant desire for general knowledge, there’s very few things that Dracula has neither heard about or has collected a book about somewhere within his vast library. If there’s a particular preference that he doesn’t hold himself, he’s not above trying it with a partner that he cares about, putting their pleasure above his own especially if they have earned his affections.

Though a largely gentle lover if his partner is human (and therefore, to him, fragile), he is more than capable of being pushed into moments of rather bestial instinct. When emotions run deep and hot, when pleasure is pushed to the limit, when his sense of patience is tested beyond what even he is capable of...well, in those moments he can be quite monstrous in more ways than one, much to the delight of a lover who would trust and enjoy to see that part of him (and he happy to show it, provided it wouldn’t leave his partner traumatized).

Predator play, blood drinking, dominance, body worship--those are just a couple things that Dracula would be rather partial to, assuming you are in kind. Though his human partner would certainly warrant a certain level of restraint with his strength, he wouldn’t mind manhandling them a little, to feel them quake and shiver and keen beneath him like caught quarry. There’s a certain thrill to be found in moments like that, much akin to a hunt--and he is certainly not ashamed of admitting such.

[castlevaniawritings]

can I get some uhhh Dominant Alucard? 👀

In the stillness of the night air, you can’t help but feel loud in the way your body reacts to his touch. The way your heartbeat thumps like a hammer to an anvil within your chest, or how your blood rushes in your ears like a waterfall. Even still, you can’t be entirely imagining the sound of ripping cloth as each layer comes loose from your body to fall around your feet.

Even so, you don’t do anything to muffle it--you can’t do anything to muffle it, and that precisely is what sends an even greater thrill buzzing through your body; the grip of one hand pinning your wrists above your head as another moves down your form to rid you of one layer of clothing after another.

“If only you knew how it feels to see you like this,” your partner hisses, his lips to your throat. The gentlest pressure of fangs make your heart skip a beat--perhaps even two. “Helpless and needing, I always wondered how my father’s kind--my kind--found it so...arousing.”

The man’s voice has an unfamiliar depth to it, a gentle waver that breaks his facade of calm--you don’t need to see Alucard’s face to know that his face is flushed, nor do you need his clothes off to feel an aching pressure grinding against your hip.

“Do you want it like this?”

His question catches you mildly off-guard, if only because you didn’t expect to be asked such a thing in the heated moments of the act. When Alucard pulls back enough to look at you, his eyes meet yours, glowing like gold in the dim moonlight. They are sharp and beautiful.

Eyes of a predator.

You nod after a moment when thoughts have cleared enough to register both his question and your enthusiastic answer, and the single motion is all it takes for him to press back against you once more. He smiles against the sensitive, bare skin of your throat, fangs pressing harder still against the jump of your pulse.

Teasing. Curious. Interested.

“I can hear your heartbeat,” he murmurs cryptically, as if whispering a secret. “It takes no hearing of mine to feel it jump when I press against you; have you yearned to be ravished like this before?”

Your lips part, but only a strained moan drips from them as Alucard starts to kiss and suck gentle marks over the curve of your neck. There was probably an answer somewhere within the noise, but it’s a hopeless cause to speak it coherently while your lover seems determined to leave you wordless.

“Like a beast of the night descends upon such an innocent soul,” the man whispers on, still against your skin, between each kiss. “Determined to leave them sweetly debauched by sunrise--I do believe I caught you once reading that exact passage in a book once.”

He grinds his hips forward, reminding you of the few layers of clothes left on your body and the heat between your legs.

And when you feel the quickening of your heart to the sound of such promise in his words, the man merely chuckles, his breath warm and ticklish against your skin.

“And I’ll be happy to make it a reality, dear one.”

[castlevaniawritings]

Reader realizes Alucard is touch-starved from sleeping off his injuries and tries to cuddle it better?

It’s not hard to realize that Alucard hasn’t been loved in a long while.

Not because his mother didn’t love him before her death, nor even his father before his grief-stricken desire for revenge. You know enough, despite the dhampir’s lacking explanation, that his parents cared for him with all of their hearts. He bore no ill or mark of neglect in how he sometimes spoke of them in the rare moments of vulnerability around a campfire. Of their laughter and smiles, hugs and kisses as he grew from child into a man.

He hadn’t been loved ever since Lisa died. When Dracula lost what little humanity there had been in his heart, sparked and cared for by the late doctor’s endless sense of compassion. 

Alucard--Adrian Tepes--hadn’t been loved since. Not physically. Not emotionally. He’d been left alone, fighting emotions he was neither prepared for nor wanted to experience. He’d been left with a scar on his chest and a weight on his heart: the knowledge that he would have to kill his own father.

You can’t begin to understand it, though you know he would never ask you to—but it makes you often wonder if he’s waiting for you to ask. To breach the silence. Sypha and Trevor could do much the same, but it’s hardly a mystery in that they are dealing with ills and pains of their own depth.

The full breadth of realization doesn’t come until you accidentally brush your fingertips over his shoulder when you all decide to bed down for the night, Trevor having sniffed out the fire with his boot and a quip of attempted humor everyone all but rolled their eyes at.

You had only meant to ask him if he had something to sleep on, if he needed a blanket, if he-

When the tips of your fingers caress over the curve of his shoulder, Adrian freezes completely against the touch. It takes a moment for you to react, a moment of your hand on his body and your brain sluggishly coming behind with the realization that you might have crossed a line somewhere.

“I just wanted to know if you were cold, I’m sorry-“ you start to tug back the hand, but the dhampir moves with inhuman speed to grab your wrist and hold it still.

The two of you freeze in tandem at the reaction. A breath. A heartbeat. Two heartbeats.

“I...,” he begins, eyes glancing down to where he yet holds tight to your wrist, as if he himself can hardly believe that he’d reacted in such a fashion.

For a few moment he but capes like a fish, pointed fangs gently glinting in the moonlight in his attempts to form words for emotions he’s just barely coming to realize have settled deep in his chest. But you see it plainly, the stiffness of his touch, the way he clings to your wrist, the way he looks on the verge of something more than a mere apology.

So you press your wrist towards the man once more. Adrian’s fingers go lax when your palm comes close again, this time pressing to his chest, over the thin undershirt that barely hides his lithe musculature.

“It’s okay.”

The words leave your lips as a whisper. Soft and gentle as the breeze that plays in Adrian’s golden hair and against your cheek. He lets you touch him; you can even feel as his muscles start to relax beneath your palm, as if the simple act of your physical contact is enough to let the ache of memories and emotions gently ebb out of his current thoughts.

You breathe in tune with him. Rising, falling, the synonymous beat of your hearts. You wonder a lot of things in that moment of time, many things that even bring a soft heat to your cheeks—but it’s Adrian’s words that pull your attention back into the moment.

“Stay with me tonight.”

Your gaze meets with his. Golden eyes look sharp in the cool light of the moon and stars, the fierceness of a predator dulled by the raw wash of emotion and tears.

A couple of them spill down his cheeks, and he makes no move to hide or wipe them away.

But you do. With your free hand you reach up and out, brushing your thumb across the curve of the man’s cheek to sweep away the wetness. A gesture so simple, and a touch so ginger, but it’s more than enough to break what last vestiges of restraint that lay like chains around Adrian’s sense of self.

In all but a heartbeat do you find yourself embraced in his arms, grip tight but not painful.

Like how a child might clutch a stuffed toy.

Your arms come around him in kind. The embrace is desperate and honest, and so tight that you swear that his heartbeat thumps against yours, beating in a bittersweet tandem of humanity that Adrian is fighting for—that you all are fighting for.

You press your face into the crook of his neck and let your lips touch at his skin; it’s warm. The moment is intimate and comforting enough to you, though hopefully Adrian feels likewise.

“I won’t leave you,” your words mumble against his throat. Honest and warm, knowing not the depth of his pain and trying desperately to be a comfort anyway. “I’ll hold you until the sun comes up.”

Adrian’s embrace gets a little tighter, and you swear that his heartbeat skips.

“Thank you.”

You’ve never heard someone sound so grateful.

[castlevaniawritings]

It’s always excited to see you make a new writing blog. Your work is excellent!

Hilariously enough, this isn’t even a *new* blog! I actually made it when season 2 came out, which I believe was around this time of last year. It’s only *technically* a new blog since I didn’t actually get any requests when I first opened it up, and quickly jumped into another fandom to fill it with my chaos.

BUT BEHOLD! MY CHAOS IS NEVERENDING! MY WRITING FOREVER THIRSTY! MANY SHENANIGANS TO BE FOUND ON THIS BLOG AT LAST!

[castlevaniawritings]

;3

This single emoticon is filled with untold amounts of chaotic energy and I love it

[castlevaniawritings]

Hi! I was wondering if you accept requests set in modern era? or only set in canon era? Also, so you accept request for ships? or only readerXcharacter?

I am happy to write for all verses, canon or otherwise, so modern AU stuff is just as allowed as long as you include in your request it's what you want!

And while I may lean towards reader-insert content, you are absolutely welcome to send in request for non-reader ships as well; I know I have plenty of ships I would love to write for :3c

[castlevaniawritings]

Bls.... Trevor edgeing.......... Im Big Thorsty

"Please."

The word is simple, but barely coherent. Even though it lays strangled between clenched teeth you know well enough what it is, and equally so how to respond to it.

By doing nothing.

It's become a game that Trevor hardly realizes he's playing in so many words. Though the man is a beast of a fighter and his blood rich with both power and prestige from the Belmont house, he is almost painfully easy to read when his mind is left raw and vulnerable like his body before you. As bare as the day he was born, wrists and ankles bound tight to the corner of the bedposts of a tavern room the two of you will forget about by the next night--he was left utterly at your mercy.

"Please, please-" he sucks in a breath as your hand stills over the hot length of his cock. "I'm so fuckin' close."

"Not yet."

A smile curls at the corners of your lips. They are the same lips that press to the curve of his hip, feeling the scars that litter across his skin from battles you both know and don't know the story of--maybe one day you'll learn about all of them.

A squeeze of your fingers around throbbing flesh brings another sweet gasp into the air, stilling any words of argument he might have. Trevor pulls against the ropes binding his wrists, but doesn't try hard enough to break free of them--even though both of you know he could if he truly willed it.

But that's the beauty of it, the pleasure coming solely from the thrill of your power over him. Every touch--or lack thereoff--brings him ever closer to the sweet edge of oblivion.

"Fuck," Trevor sobs. “I need—I want—“

“Not yet,” you repeat against his skin, stilling the movement of your hand once more over his cock.

The tip is flushed and throbbing, the shaft slick and oiled. You’ve lost count how many times Trevor has been denied his release, but it’s more than what you can count on one hand, since that is about where you stopped trying to keep track.

And you know Trevor loves it. Losing control of himself to your touch, aching for climax, begging for the simple act of your curled fingers stroking over his dick.

It’s a game that both of you love to play.

[castlevaniawritings]

So can we talk about how Trevor fucks or? 👀

In the beginning, Trevor fucks like he lives the rest of his life: quick, selfish, with as little emotional connection as possible to whomever his partner is at any particular drunken evening in a tavern or bar.

He tends to follow a pattern which in itself is a familiar comfort where he has few of them; some sweet talk, some flirting—maybe even some less-than-subtle brushes of his fingers and palm over your body if he’s had enough to drink, ultimately leading the two of you somewhere private. You and him might fall into bed if he had gold enough for the luxury of renting a room, though Trevor has found often enough that a closet or even a secluded spot of shadows outside the building itself serves the purpose all the same.

It’s not to say the sex is onesided. Trevor has experience and sense enough to help his partners get the most out of it as well, selfish especially in his lust for leaving you as much a mess as he is (which is a feat). He’ll concede to a lot of wants and requests, but there’s one thing he won’t do: kiss or hold hands. Bite, scratch, mark, manhandle, *be* manhandled—all of those things and more are plenty familiar from Trevor’s adventures of the carnal sort, but he adamantly refuses to do anything that might suggest a romantic or emotional connection.

That changes as time progresses. As Trevor finds himself wrapped up in the responsibility of fighting Dracula and protecting the people around him. As he finds not only a reason to make connections, but a desire to do the same. Though one-off sexual trysts may follow a similar series of events as before, a longer-standing companion will experience something different.

Trevor starts to get more possessive of toy--one might even call his lingering touches and feverish whispers something romantic. Though in sober moments he would play it off as simple dirty talk, you can't help but feel a sense of honesty in the man's gravely voice when he talks of making you many things; his pet, his lover, his partner. It isn't until several escapades that you begin to realize that Trevor's lips have gotten closer to yours each time, or how his fingertips seem to constantly caress across your open palms.

When he finally tangles his fingers and yours together in the crest of pleasure, it's partnered with the man's lips crashing hungrily into yours. It's to you drinking up the feverish, long-silent emotion that has hung in Trevor's chest for ages.

"I love you."

And he will say it many times more.

[castlevaniawritings]

*soft pokie* are you...taking requests right now?

Yup! Though I’m technically super active on @wtnvwritings, I’m open for requests over here as well! Hilariously you’re the first person who’s sent in a request (or a request for a request?), so gimme ur worst friendo :3c

[castlevaniawritings]

New Castlevania Writing/Imagine Blog!

Hello everyone! I’m Daniel (also known as darthsuki) and this is my reader-insert imagine/headcanon/drabble blog for the Netflix original series Castlevania–I’m only mildly familiar with the game series so this blog will be quite specific to the animated cartoon.

To make things short, I specialize in writing headcanons, drabbles and sometimes longer fics from a reader-insert perspective. I write both sfw and nsfw works (though I specialize in the latter) and prefer to write fluffy, angsty and otherwise romantic-based works.

This isn’t my first writing blog (far, far from it), so I can almost guarantee you there’s (almost) nothing I haven’t gotten as a request before. I’m not overtly fond of meaningless gore and violence, so you’re not gonna see very much of that in my writing (hilariously enough for the fandom this blog is for).

I highly suggest giving a quick read of my FAQ if you’re able, but otherwise I hope to see lots of ideas and requests from everyone. You can also see me at my main blog over here as well!