dreadful_kinks | Prompt Post 1

Did you spot the line I lifted from Carmilla?

I have not read that recently enough, sadly. I SHOULD GET ON THAT.

Plenty of free copies on the web (incl. Project Gutenberg), yay public domain! (It's the "you are mine, you shall be mine, you and I are one forever" bit.) Lesbian vampires FTW!

I know what I'm doing tomorrow, then! (Lesbian vampires FTvery muchW. V/Mina is kind of my fucked-up endgame pairing.)

I'm not even sure I HAVE an endgame pairing for this show, though I can happily support V/Mina. I'm mostly along for the cracktastic ride, and marveling at a Dorian Gray who cares about consent checks.

I pretty much ship everything, but I have a Theory about V/Mina. (BUT I KNOW RIGHT. Dorian!)

DORIAN. <3 <3 <3 (So unlike the book, but I approve of the changes!)

(As do I. I have such complicated thoughts about Dorian and the way he mirrors people back at themselves -- god, the meta I want to write here could easily end up book-length.)

You write the meta, I'll be over here writing the scene we didn't get between Ethan and Dorian. I may have to dial it far enough back to make the fucking absinthe go cloudy when Dorian adds the water, though.

Two were immortal; one had an obsession with cheating death.

Ooooh, so lovely and heartbreakingly sexy. The perfect passion between the two of them. I love Mina's Victorian sensibilities contrasting Vanessa's wildness and how they meet somewhere in the middle in their lovemaking. Thank you very much!! <3

My pleasure! I'm glad you enjoyed it. It was great fun to write. Good femslash prompts don't come along as often as they ought to!

I've had a novel published. How do you feel about Regency m/m/f romance?

Brona and Ethan go for a bit of role-reversal - *he's* the tart, she's the paying customer.

Malcolm finds out about what Vanessa and Dorian got up to. He ties Dorian to his bed and finishes the job.

He's a risk junkie; she must have picked up a taste for it somewhere.

For all his vast scientific knowledge of the human body, there are things Victor Frankenstein has yet to discover about it.

Ethan wakes up after his night with Dorian Gray with the same shivering, gut churning guilt and horror that he’s felt far too many times in his life.

He shouldn’t have come here. He should have taken warning from the way his blood lust had raged while watching the dogs kill. He’d only been able to hold the beast at bay by goading those pompous assholes into beating the living should out of him. But he’d let his common sense get seduced by Dorian with his pretty eyes and knowing smile, put himself in the last situation he should allow….

For a long moment Ethan keeps his eyes closed. Until he opens his eyes he won’t know for sure what he’s done. He can imagine that the sheets will be crisp and white and stained with nothing but the remnants of last night’s passion. He can pretend that they won’t be stiff and brown with blood from a heart that ceased to beat hours ago. He can pretend that Dorian’s perfect body is still as whole and unmarred as it was when he covered that perfect skin in kisses and nips last night.

He remembers too much, though. He remembers giving into his basest desires, the heat of their kisses as how he and Dorian tore their clothes away. He remembers how the beast inside him surged and grew strong with each kiss, pushing against his control. It was foolish of him to expect that he’d be able to hold the monster at bay.

He remembered the exquisite pleasure of letting himself be taken and filled, the intensity in Dorian’s eyes as he drove deep inside him. He remembers pleasure burning through his veins, remembers gasping for more as he clung to the edge of control. He remembers the beast breaking free in a rush more intense than any orgasm, and then flashes: heat and violence, claws rending skin, teeth tearing flesh. Dorian’s guttural cries.

He’s still clenching his eyes tight shut when he feels movement. Someone curls against his back, a hand smoothing over his hip, fingers teasing the base of his cock. “You can’t still be asleep, Mr. Chandler.”

Ethan bolts upright, not caring about his nudity as he stares down at the bed. The blood soaked sheets, torn and ruined. And in the midst of the carnage, Dorian’s lithe body, as perfect as it had been last night.

“You – “ he says, but the words die in his throat. A hundred things to ask, and none of them will make this make any more sense.

“It seems you have quite a parlor trick,” Dorian says quietly, watching him.

“So do you,” Ethan points out, afraid that if he moves this will all dissolve into the reality of the beast’s carnage.

Dorian climbs from the bed gracefully, stroking his hands up Ethan’s chest to rest against his neck. “We all have secrets,” he replies, that knowing smile playing about his lips again. “I’ll call for breakfast. Then perhaps we can share them again.”

Edited 2014-06-23 14:12 (UTC)

*flailing wildly*

FANTASTIC. And HOT. You're making me ship it. I mean as an ongoing thing, and not what I had in my head, a delicious night that Ethan's still sorting out and hasn't decided if he wants to go back

Nicely done1

Dorian deflowers Victor while he's high out of his mind.

Victor overdoses on morphine. Caliban begrudgingly saves his life.

This can be gen or slash. I put warnings up just in case.

A violent altercation between Victor and Caliban turns sexual (i.e. Caliban holds Victor by his throat and fucks him against a wall).

When the virgin doctor created a bride for his monster he didn't expect to fall in love with her himself. Victor falls in love with the bride and loses his virginity to her.

Feel free to imagine the bride as any of the women from the show or make up a totally original character.

Instead of seducing Captain Branson on the eve of Mina's wedding, Vanessa seduces Sir Malcolm and Mina ends up watching and masturbating.

Vanessa calls Malcolm "daddy" or "father" during sex, which really turns Mina on.

This is a good prompt and you should feel good.

[just a quick fill, hopefully this is okay!]

**

"Easy," Ethan says, "hey, easy. Didn't they ever send you to school?"

A surgeon, and a student at that, builds up certain patterns of calluses on his hands. Victor might identify a body by that alone, had he nothing else available to him from which to extrapolate an occupation if not a name. Certain characteristics would manifest themselves, already an imposition of one's willful activity on a body only too willing to comply -- or the hardy flesh adapting itself to meet the challenge of this sort of pressure or that manner of consistent wear over months or years. A sharpshooter, a laborer of a different kind -- a man accustomed to violent uses of his hands -- might have others, a different constellation of calluses and scars. Mr. Chandler's hands are around his cock.

Victor inhales raggedly, self-conscious of how weak he is and how utterly laid bare. Chandler's hands are working in slow firm pulls down the length of what Victor had once considered practically beneath notice. He had sought to escape the mechanical limitations of the body, and if certain verses of poetry were less than modest, if they made his pulse quicken and his blood burn -- The side of Ethan's thumb teases against the slit at the head of his cock and he makes a whimper with no dignity in it at all. He pulls himself back deeper into the leather armchair in which he sits. The sense of certain dread that they'll be intruded on is still not enough for him to call this little experiment to a halt. Ethan is a very obliging instructor.

If Victor were so inclined -- and his natural inclinations tend to this so strongly that it takes a conscious effort not to, and only the chafe of flesh on flesh distracts him -- he could enumerate every muscle and vessel and duct complicit in this, from his own genitalia up through every digit and each of the elegant bones of Mr. Chandler's forearms to his broad shoulders. His own sweating throat, swallowing sharply and feeling the cartilage bob in his neck.

Victor puts a hand out to his sleeve, not to stop him, but to hold him there --fingers knotting uselessly in his sleeve and balling into a fist as another spasm of unfamiliar sensation shoots through him. This can't be as pleasant for the one who administers it as its recipient, but nothing in Ethan's demeanor suggests reluctance. If he's enjoying himself half as much as Victor is, he has masterful self-control.

It's so exquisite that it nearly hurts, and the expression on his face must show it -- biting his lips and closing his eyes to chase away the torment of Chandler's affable downturned face and to focus on the sensations he's isolated even as it seems like too much to bear. He has no envy or affinity for the normal procreative act, but if it is anything like this it must be excruciating, a torment very different from the erotic languor poets profess. His breath comes in gasps; his own hands tighten their knuckly grip on the armchair (which is very old, and may have seen its own share of transgressions) and his legs tremble with the protestations of straining muscles.

Chandler spits into his palm with no great excess of delicacy and continues his work.

Explaining himself feels ludicrous but Victor can't help but try, though he's at a loss as to how to be succinct about his own slightly embarrassing sensitivities. His tongue trips over the phrases as soon as he starts, and his breath catches in his throat.

"As you can see, I don't--"

Victor finds himself swallowing down the words for what, precisely, he does not do, as Ethan shifts against him and his grip alters as well. He's not in the habit of touching himself and this other man does it expertly, his gentling touches turning to swift short strokes that tease and promise and yet deny. Some of the slickness must be his own.

"You don't get laid too much, huh? There's only one thing for it."

Chandler's other hand comes away for a moment and returns to press through Victor's laid-open trouser flies and cup at his balls. Ethan's callused fingertips and ragged nails promise nothing but indecency and infection but the touch of him is irresistible -- he is both coarse and strong, radiating a kind of animal heat through his clothing, being as he is bent over his lap and very close. An awful, inexorable fullness has begun building in him, approaching piece by piece but all too fast, and even he, devoid of waking experience and practically untouched, knows what it is -- a climax that must be released. Tt comes pouring out like a discharge of lightning -- as if all his strength is drawn up and concentrated into this, this unnecessary sweetness. It's worst because he feels it drawing near, the approach of a thing he cannot stop.

His world goes white, and for a moment everything is forgotten -- everything is eclipsed, in the blazing center of something neither life nor death.

Slumped and panting like a winded runner, he comes back to himself looking into the genial dark eyes of one Mr. Chandler, an American renegade of some renown who currently has Victor's semen all over his hands. Fortunately he's not a barbarian, and goes about remedying this with a pocket handkerchief, wiping off each finger in a businesslike fashion while looking <>very satisfied with himself.

"Better now? See, hey, I haven't hurt you, doctor. How was that?" Chandler asks, with a wickedly solicitous look.

"I'm afraid I can't speak for your technique, Mr. Chandler," he says, the slightest of smiles playing at his bruise-colored lips, "but there's little that can't be improved on with practice."

His own hands -- which are clean and very white -- find the stiffness of Chandler's member through his trousers. Victor feels very near fainting, and wholly spent, but he knows what he'd like to do.

Prompt Post 1

Re: Vanessa/Mina, Who For Joys Brides Hope To Have, explicit

Re: Vanessa/Mina, Who For Joys Brides Hope To Have, explicit

Re: Vanessa/Mina, Who For Joys Brides Hope To Have, explicit

Re: Vanessa/Mina, Who For Joys Brides Hope To Have, explicit

Re: Vanessa/Mina, Who For Joys Brides Hope To Have, explicit

Re: Vanessa/Mina, Who For Joys Brides Hope To Have, explicit

Re: Vanessa/Mina, Who For Joys Brides Hope To Have, explicit

Re: Vanessa/Mina, Who For Joys Brides Hope To Have, explicit

Re: Vanessa/Mina, Who For Joys Brides Hope To Have, explicit

Ethan/Victor/Dorian, threesome

Re: Vanessa/Mina, Who For Joys Brides Hope To Have, explicit

Re: Vanessa/Mina, Who For Joys Brides Hope To Have, explicit

Brona/Ethan, prostitution kink, roleplay

Malcolm/Dorian, bondage, rough sex, knifeplay/bloodplay

Malcolm/Vanessa, knifeplay

Ethan/Victor, first time

Re: Ethan/Dorian - Parlor Tricks

Re: Ethan/Dorian - Parlor Tricks

Dorian/Victor, morphine!sex (dubcon/noncon)

Victor/Caliban - Gen or Slash, Necro-incest???, Drug Abuse/Overdose

Victor/Caliban, slash, hate sex, wall sex, choking, dub-con, pseudo incest

Victor/OC (Bride of Frankenstein), Virgin!Victor

Sir Malcolm/Vanessa, Mina, AU, Daddy!Kink, Vouyerism, Masturbation

no subject

fill: "ties that bind, knots that fail"