ptolemaea
Pairing: Papa V Perpetua x GN!Reader
Tags: dub-con, nosferatu inspired, dark-ish, vampiric, creature perpetua, barbed penis, knotting, PWP, gender neutral reader, gothic
Summary: he waits. he hunts. the candle within you is lit.
The night blooms like a dark, vicious bruise.
It always start the same: a young virgin, praying on their knees for salvation.
But there was no salvation. Perpetua was both the demon haunting their dreams, infecting their minds with lust, and the angel of absolution.
After so many centuries of this one sided game, Perpetua was bored. He fed, because he must. He fed, to live.
What was once a hunt, a game, was now merely a pass time.
And then-
And then, you came along. Your knees were bruised an angry purple, his purple, your hands tightly clapsed in prayer to anybody listening.
And somebody was listening. Just not the one you wished.
"Come to me…
"…a guardian angel, a spirit of comfort, spirit of any celestial sphere, anything…
"Hear my call…
"Come to me."
So he came.
One hellish step in front of the other, footprints upon the grass being left dead, Perpetua found you. His shadow stretched across you, suffocating the dim candlelight within the room.
He ruffled your hair with the wind, inhaling the sweet smell of lilacs. Oh, what bliss, Perpetua thought. His blood was singing, his dead heart was pounding. This- this!- was a worthy hunt.
And what a hunt it would be, as your moans of pleasure turned into bloodcurdling shrieks of pain, as the serpent within you writhed in your core and released the tension of la petite morte.
Perpetua laughed, and laughed, and laughed until his voice caught within the storm brewing in the garden and vanished as quickly as it came.
The years passed quietly for you, and you never forgot. You married, and tried for a babe, but it was not meant to be. Whatever had happened that one soulful night had torn you asunder, in body and mind.
Sometimes you wished the demon that had answered, had called himself Perpetua, had taken you with him. Perhaps, you would be more content as a vampiress, living in a cold, dreary castle with a cold, dreary demon.
But, he was not cold and dreary, was he? Your traitorous mind would conjure late at night, far later than one of your station should be awake. Even as your beloved slept next to you, sleep sweet and restful. Never once plagued by the demons that dogged your steps, in dreams and waking.
He was hot, like hellfire, like an ice burn. He lit you up from within, and looked at your bloody, bruised flesh with not contempt, not fear, not even hesitancy. He looked.
You wondered, sometimes, if he would come back. If you wanted him to.
And then he did.
The town was filled with rats, the plague upon this little corner of your world. Your beloved was feverish, cracking under the pressure of having everything run smoothly.
And those damn rats.
You could almost hear him, laughter echoing in the wind when it was quiet. You wished to cry, you wished to fall into bed in a feverish state, you wished to rail against the injustice of being a scared, lonely child, taken advantage by the demon who answered.
You were no longer a scared, lonely child.
You could do something about the rats, the plague, even your beloved becoming a memory of themselves.
You just had to be brave enough.
"Come to me…" You whispered in the wind, mind blossoming like a flower in heavy rain after a drought. You knew he would hear. He would come with haste.
And so Perpetua did.
His claws left gouges in the window frame, crumbling the rotted wood into dust with the strength of his hands. It filled you with equal lust and fear.
You slipped your nightgown off, his demonic, mismatched white and green eyes being drawn to the glistening curve of your shoulder, cradling your collarbone with an intense gaze. The swell of your stomach was next, finally landing on your genitals. You watched him swallow reflexively, and he bared his fanged teeth in excitement, a chittering sort of sound escaping his inhuman throat.
You felt your legs tremble; whether in fear or anticipation, you could not say. The two were so closely linked, so blurred, you could not take a scalpel to one without losing the other.
He circled you for a moment, slowly, and you trembled like a fawn under his heavy gaze.
"Look at you, lamb." Perpetua whispered into your ear, one clawed hand curling around your chest, his nails sinking into your tender flesh harsh enough to make you cry out at the pinprick of blood that welled up.
"Look at the way you tremble for me… The way you taste," Here, he mouthed at your shoulder, fangs brushing against the sensitive skin, enough to make you squeeze your thighs in anticipation.
"The way you smell…" Perpetua took some of your hair in his fist, lifting it off your neck with the wickedness of a gentle lover, as he bent to inhale deeply. You could hear his centuries old lungs rattle, as if he himself were sick with the plague.
You felt another hot burst of fire in your loins. You wanted it to end, this delicate torture, and you never wished to be parted from your desires again.
"Please…" You pleaded, a soft whisper against the chill of the night leaving goosebumps on your exposed nipples. "Please."
Perpetua buried his grin in your shoulder blades. "Please what, little lamb?"
You groaned in frustration, in want. "Take me to bed, please, I beg of you, extinguish this fire that aches in me. Extinguish me."
"With pleasure." Perpetua purred, lifting you in a mockery of the bridal pose. He deposited you a short feet away as if you weighed less than a feather. It brought the ache in your stomach to the front, to know he could break you, could remake you in his image, and it would be like forming clay when you were a small child. That is what it was: child's play. He was playing with his food.
And you wished for it. You, who had denied yourself for so many years, wanted more. Craved more. You wanted to be more than a good spouse, a good cog in the machine called society.
You wanted to be defiled, to be possessed so thoroughly that the blood in your veins, your very marrow, sang his name in remembrance.
Perpetua, Perpetua, Perpetua.
It sang out to you.
It sang out to the heavens.
He sunk his fangs into the meat of your thigh, and you shrieked in feverish pain-lust-pain.
You looked down at him with hooded eyes, watching as his mouth stained a crimson with your blood; your life energy staining his front.
It wasn't enough to sate you.
You pawed at him like a helpless babe, fingers thick and clumsy. He laughed at you, his white teeth dripping on to your mound.
"I'll give you what you wish, if you swear to never leave me."
"I swear, Perpetua, I swear on my life that we'll never be parted from this day hence."
Perpetua purred loud enough to rattle the bedframe into the wall. You clutched at the bed sheets with shaking fingers, afraid to be thrown over the edge.
"Prepare yourself. I will not be gentle."
And gentle he was not, it was the farthest thing from the gentle touches of your spouse. He had you face him on your back, wanting to watch as you blubbered, sobbed for less and equally more. Watched as he tore you in half and stitched you back with impracticed fingers. His balls slapped against your hips, his knot grinding at your base, his large wings curled around you, shielding you from the waning moon.
You whined, and whimpered, and pleaded, but for what you could not say. It was bliss. It was torture. You could not remember your name, you were so far gone in pleasure and torment.
You lost count of the times you orgasmed around his barbed, monstrous cock. His knot ground against you one final, torturous moment before it popped in with a wet, sloppy sound, and you shrieked into the air. It was too much, you had never experienced a pleasure like this.
At that thought, your fingers which had scrabbled at Perpetua's spiny back, drawing forth blood you were half convinced he didn't have, fell still and limp at his roar in your ear.
You were his prey, his captured lamb, and as the rooster crowed outside, sunlight filtered into the bedroom and illuminated his demonic face.
His white eye shone with a demonic lust, fluorescent in the quickly brightening room. Just as Perpetua turned his ghastly face towards the light, the eye shone for a brief second before it dulled.
All at once, as his sheathed body fell still above yours, you felt the energy you had left wither between your breastbone. You were tired, so tired, so you let your fingers fall to Perpetua's.
With the last of your strength, you curled your hands around his claws, and closed your eyes for a final time.
