#If any of you are wondering if I would survive Castle Dracula. No I would not.

[the-laws-of-physics-were-harmed]

These companions"—and he laid his hand on some of the books—"have been good friends to me

This is where I would have decided that Dracula was Just A Nice And Slightly Weird Man if I were Jonathan. A book lover can never be evil I'm sure this Count is just a little odd :) Definitely not planning to drink my blood!

[vickyvicarious]

"[Dracula] certainly left me under the impression that he would have made a wonderful solicitor, for there was nothing that he did not think of or foresee. For a man who was never in the country, and who did not evidently do much in the way of business, his knowledge and acumen were wonderful."

More evidence that Dracula's later actions are results of planning!

Indeed! Dracula's preparations for this trip are very thorough. I think that it would probably be correct to assume that he has a whole long-term strategy that, luckily, never gets put into play. I get the feeling a lot of his plan is banking heavily on people not knowing him. Not just what he is, but also who he is. This is what makes Jonathan's survival and Mina's willingness to reach out to Van Helsing so crucial, actually. Because without Jonathan recognizing Dracula in the street, the most Van Helsing and the suitors would have ever been able to do is stop vampire!Lucy. They had no idea where to look for the one who did that to her. It was a total dead end. Jack had clues, yes, but he really hadn't put them together at all - even after he was convinced on vampires, he was surprised to hear Jonathan say Renfield's behavior was linked to Dracula's. Even if people knew what Dracula was, without knowing who he is and where to find him, they couldn't do anything to stop him.

Similarly, Jonathan (and thus Mina) knew who Dracula was, but it took that outside confirmation that Jonathan's experience of what he was, really happened and was trustworthy. In this case, they may have sought confirmation of their own eventually even without linking up with the others (I can't picture Mina outright dismissing Jonathan's experiences, either by denying them altogether or by putting him in an asylum or what-have-you; I could see her trying to look into it on her own without telling him until she had some kind of proof/confirmation to offer one way or the other) - but it would have been way more cautious and gradual, and thus Dracula would have had time to get his boxes scattered more. They also lacked the knowledge of how to fight him off, and so even if they became convinced very quickly, without the others they would have to start the research from the beginning which would slow them down. And even then, they lacked the resources and manpower that the suitor squad gave them. It would all take a lot more time. And if Dracula had more time to establish himself... He'd have multiple houses which no one person knew the location of, he'd have his dirt boxes in each one. He'd have, eventually, other vampires risen as well, who could potentially create more vampires in turn. He might have the time/inclination to infiltrate society more once his boltholes were established, creating social pressure not to go after him or consequences for doing so.

Going after him in such a rush was necessary, because he'd get exponentially harder to defeat or even drive off as more time passed. And if people weren't already prepared to do so with appropriate knowledge and resources... it might be too late. And that's exactly what was supposed to happen. Jonathan was supposed to be left in the Castle, either dead or undead, and all his knowledge with him. Mr. Hawkins may have been a target as well, possibly even his other lawyers. Lucy, and his other eventual victims (pretty girl in Piccadilly, etc.), were supposed to succumb to what seemed like a mysterious illness without anyone being the wiser about the true cause of death. And it probably would have worked, without the coincidence of Jack knowing Van Helsing who was willing to explore all avenues, and Jonathan's incredible survival leading to Mina acquiring his knowledge and putting it to use. No one else knew what was threatening them. No one else knew who was threatening them. And Dracula, as we see in this quote, took plenty of additional precautions to ensure that he wouldn't raise any red flags without that prior knowledge (or at least not any actionable ones).

[ri-writing]

Would you survive as Jonathan Harker?

A post on my dash asked whether I would survive as Jonathan Harker. I suspect the question is meant to be: Would I end up captured by Dracula? And to that, my answer is: Absolutely.

With regard to the question "would I survive as Jonathan Harker," though, I know the answer to that, too. But we're going to put a cut and note "cw: abuse." I also moved this to its own post instead of replying to the original because this got pretty heavy.

I lived the real life version of Jonathan's horror. While I did not literally get captured by a blood drinker or imprisoned in a castle with the requirement of completing the hardest parkour session of my life to get to safety, I was a young lawyer who was emotionally abused, manipulated, and controlled by a more-senior lawyer for years. In doing so, that lawyer made a lot of money while keeping me completely dependent on them. Whether I kept my job - and therefore a roof over my head and food on the table - was dependent on this senior lawyer continuing to keep me around. No matter how hard I worked, the vampire demanded more. More nights. More weekends. More holidays. All while telling me I was not good enough to do this without them. Sometimes, the vampire was kind and compassionate. Sometimes, the vampire acted like they were trying to help me succeed. But this was all window dressing (though I couldn't see it at the time) and, in the end, the vampire would do what vampires do.

Until one day, I realized the truth. And then I escaped. Although I got away from the vampire, I had to start over and I had no safety net. I made a deal with a firm where they'd give me a year and I'd need to find a way to build a practice and prove my worth. The entire year, I was on the wall of that castle, wondering if the next foothold I found was going to hold or send me tumbling into the abyss below. Somehow, I made it to solid ground.

Even once I was safe, I mentally struggled. I questioned whether my abuser was right - whether it was only a matter of time before I failed and be in dire straights without them to protect me. But I embraced the support of my friends. I did the work in therapy. I grew stronger. I realized I was an excellent lawyer. I built my practice stronger, and in a way that I would never again be dependent on a single source of work so that no vampire would again control me.

Still, I would dread what would happen the next time I ran into my abuser. Finally, it happened. My path did cross once again with theirs. And I realized I wasn't scared of them any longer. I'd escaped. I'd healed. I'd built a community. I survived. And my vampire could no longer harm me.

So - would I survive as Jonathan Harker?

I did.

A lot of people have called Jonathan weak or stupid. Adaptations remove him or water down his role. Those people and adaptations are wrong.

Jonathan is why I love Dracula. His character arc is a metaphor. It's also hope. Jonathan finds love and support among his friends and family. They do not reject him when he struggles with his trauma, but support him and uplift him. Jonathan grows stronger. Jonathan survives. And it is Jonathan who, with Quincey, finally kills Dracula.

Thank you, Bram Stoker, for giving me Jonathan Harker. Through reading Jonathan's story, I was finally able to make peace with mine.

[brokendownoncemeterydrive]

🧛When running into your toxic ex has a body count: my review of Nosferatu (2024)!!🧛

SPOILERS GALORE AHEAD! DO NOT READ IF YOU DON’T WANT SPOILERS!

I went to see Nosferatu yesterday! When my mom and I walked into the theater, we thought we had the whole place to ourselves because it was 1245 on a Saturday afternoon and the movie has been out for about a month now. Of course, it was not to be, because about five minutes later almost our entire row was filled up with father aged dudes. It was random as hell!! Like go see Gladiator 2 or something get out of here! Joking joking JOKING! Vampires are for everybody, 5ever. Kidding aside, I was genuinely surprised at who turned up to theater number 4 that day to feast their eyes on some full frontal undead cock.

Speaking of which… I heard all this stuff about the male nudity in this film, and my right hand to God there was almost nothing at all. Like yeah you did see Count Orlok’s penis, but for about 2.5 seconds in a pretty dark shot. And there was a butt for like ten seconds. Tbh, better off! I’m a bit of a prude about random nudity in movies, so no skin off my nose. And now that we’re on the subject, if you’re wondering if this is a movie that would be awkward to watch around/with your family, take it from me that the most you’ll have to endure are two sex scenes pretty close to each other towards the end and occasional orgasm noises from Lily-Rose Depp throughout the film. So it definitely depends on your comfort level around your family, but you could be faced with much worse. Idk if this matters or if it’s important to anybody, but it sort of is to me!

The gore as well I did not think was too bad. Again, depends on your level of squeamishness, and a pigeon meets a very tragic end (hated that shit, thank god all the cats seemingly survived), but I did not find it too gory. And trust me I am not trying to be an Edgy Horror Fan™️ when I say this: you really don’t see much in the way of blood and guts in this movie! The only questionable scene I can think of is the one basically right at the end between Ellen and Count Orlok. That was a violent one! I guess my final judgment is that you’ve ever sat through a slasher type horror movie or maybe even something like Jaws (a bit random but that’s all that’s coming to mind rn lol), you will probably be okay.

Onto the real review! Well, I loved this movie! LOVED! You definitely don’t feel the 2 hour 15 minute ish run time, trust me. The beginning 30 ish minutes (idk however long it takes Thomas to get to the town outside Count Orlok’s castle) are just a hair too slow imo, but trust me just lock in for those exposition type parts because it pays off! I think that’s kind of the curse of any Dracula/Nosferatu movie. Nobody really wants to sit through the setup; get us to the vampire shit NOW!! So it was a sign that the movie was off to a good start when I felt interested in that opening chunk. For the Dracula adaptation that tears the rest of the girlies up in terms of an opening, see Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992). The best there EVER was.

I loved the bizarre and unsettling moments in this movie, particularly the scene where Thomas in a dream but actually in real life witnesses a virgin being led naked on a white horse to be sacrificed to Orlok. Icky icky but it made an impression! Also Herr Knock’s whole performance, but especially the out of nowhere ass shot towards the beginning. I’m so partial to the Renfield character in any of these movies (my favorites are Dwight Frye from the 1931 Dracula and Tom Waits from once again Bram Stoker’s Dracula), so of course he was a fun role for me to watch! Renfield always brings the camp to Dracula/Nosferatu movies. The most unexpected disturbing scene by far was the fun little implied necrophilia moment towards the end… Aaron Taylor-Johnson, what you went through in this movie. Good lord!

At first I honestly felt like it was cheap shock value, but the more I think about it the more I kind of get it as a moment. During Orlok and Helen’s first face to face meeting since her childhood, he tells her something along the lines of “I am appetite alone.” Freak! And because of the scabs that began to show on Friedrich’s face in the scenes right before his death, I kind of interpreted that he was also on the vampiric road himself… something something he loses his humanity and becomes appetite alone just like Orlok and if then carry the two he fucks his wife’s corpse. It is not yet my most fleshed out idea! And if I’m on the right track, did this have to be communicated via necrophilia? No, probably not. But it’s horror, and such is horror a lot of the time: getting your idea across in the most shocking way possible. If anything, the moment is in keeping with one of the overarching themes of the movie, violation.

Even though you don’t see anything, that moment definitely had me gagged in more ways than one. I don’t think my mom picked up on what it was meant to imply, or if she did she didn’t acknowledge it. Either way, did not want to discuss that one with her! Definitely a bridge too far.

It is actually 1 o clock in the morning where I am! I am so tired. But I have a lot more to say and this post is already a book as it is. All of this to say… review part 2 coming tomorrow!

Stay frosty.❄️

[grimmswan]

Dracula in Storybrooke part 2

For Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 23

Once Upon a Time missing storyline/AU

Killian noticed a man staring at Emma.

He had on leather pants, leather boots, and his shirt was opened clear down to near his naval. Revealing a well toned chest.

“But greatly lacking in chest hair.” Killian thought smugly.

The man who introduced himself as Drake, gazed at Emma with fascination.

“My, my, you are by far the most beautiful creature I have ever seen. The very sun is dim in comparison to your golden hair.”

Killian rolled his eyes. Just who did this git think he was. It irritated him more to see that Emma was actually smiling at the fool.

Neither man knew it, but Emma’s smile was due to her seeing that the two men, who seemed to be trying to one up each other, were very much alike.

“I really must have a type.” She thought to herself.

Both men had dark hair, deep blue eyes, and accents.

Drake wore a shirt with most of the buttons undone, reminding Emma of Killian’s wardrobe before he started wearing modern clothes.

She sometimes wished Killian would go back to wearing those clothes, at least on some days. She had always loved how sexy and dangerous he looked.

Yet Killian was staring daggers at the man, as if he considered him a rival.

Killian didn’t like the pure hunger he saw in Drake’s eyes as he stared at Emma. It was too possessive.

“It’s strange how in this world, a woman can cover her whole body, and still her lovely form is revealed.” Drake’s eyes moved over Emma. “I look forward to discovering what other wonders this place has in store.”

“He’s a smooth one.” Granny commented. “My mother always said, “Beware of a silver tongue. It tends to lay next to the sharpest tooth.”

“He was awfully flirty with Emma.” Snow remarked in puzzlement. “She was pressed against Killian nearly the entire time. Obviously her heart belongs to him. But that didn’t stop Drake from showing his interest.”

“I think we need to keep a close eye on that guy.” Charming said with a scowl. Father’s instinct warned that Drake would bring nothing but trouble in his daughter’s life.

Just as the Sun had slipped under the horizon, one figure walked up to another in the shadows of the alleyway near Granny’s Diner.

"I would stay away from Emma Swan, if I were you. Captain Jones won't allow anyone to take her away from him."

"Captain Jones is a mortal. An ordinary simple man. What is he compared to one such as myself?"

 “Captain Killian Jones is far from being a simple man. The pirate captain has faced God's, demons, and monsters and survived. You may be powerful, but you are far from the worst thing Captain Hook has faced.

There is also Emma Swan. She is not going to be easily seduced away from the man she went to the underworld for. Especially not by a man spouting fancy words and performing magic tricks that she could beat. One would wonder what it is you think you can offer her? From what I heard, your grand castle is in ruin."

“There are other castles. From what I understand, there are two castles long since abandoned in another land. The former residents now live in this world. In this town. If I understand correctly, Emma Swan would inherit both, should something happen to those former owners.”

“Even you can not believe that you could charm a lady into accepting you after killing her entire family.”

“The blood lust made my other brides accept the same. I do not think Emma Swan will be any different.”

“I think you will find that Emma Swan will be very different. But you have a tendency to be far too confident in your own prowess to see reason. I still want to caution you. I feel I owe you something, since you once offered me immortality. Would have given it to me, if you hadn’t been outwitted.

 That bloodlust only works if you're in power. Mina was willing to forgive you in regard to her dearest friend Lucy when you blinded her with your seduction. But once Jonathan Harker and Dr. Van Helsing sealed you in that tomb, she reverted back to her old self. And she hated you for what you did.”

“I was careless. I didn’t anticipate Harker’s strength of spirit. Or his devotion to Mina. I shall use more patience. And will pay closer attention to the players. I underestimated my opponents before. I will not again.”

The Count from Transylvania smiled. “Despite your insistent loyalty to the man who stands between me and the woman who holds my salvation, it is good to see you again, Renfield.”

“It’s good to see you again, Vlad. But it’s Smee, now. Renfield got the reputation of a lunatic. No one would take him seriously. I had to change my name and do business in another port, to escape the shadow of your story.”

“Perhaps the ending to this story will be more to each of our likeings”

Smee didn’t say it, but he was certain this story’s end would be the same as the previous one.

"Emma, I think Count Drake is dangerous." Killian spoke in earnest, hoping to get her to understand that she should stay away from the man.

"I know he is. I think he's a vampire." She said it so matter of factly, it made Killian’s jaw drop.

"Oh, come on. Count Drake. Count Dracula. It was pretty obvious. Plus, he stayed away from the windows? Out of direct sunlight?"

Killian wanted to kick himself. His jealousy had blinded him to the real threat.

Emma wrapped her arms around Killian's neck. "You really need to stop being jealous of every guy who looks like he might be my type. I have my perfect man, the man I love, right here. I would never do anything to mess that up."

"I do trust you, love. It's me I don't trust. I can never be rid of the thought that I don’t deserve you. That you could have someone better."

Emma opened her mouth to argue with him, 

"I know what you're going to say, love. But knowing that you love me and think I'm a hero is far different than actually believing it myself."

Emma knew what Killian was saying. But she still wished she could find some way of convincing him how important he was to her.

He always knew what to say to help her understand how special she was to him. She wished she had his gift with words, so she could return the favor.

An idea on how to remind him that he was one of the most important people in her life came to her.

She might have been bad with words. But she was really good with her actions.

Drake snarled in frustration. He wanted to burst in through the window and tear the lovers apart. He vowed that he would find a way to kill Killian Jones, and take Emma Swan for himself.

Killian’s instincts warned him that the woman he loved was in danger. He couldn’t shake the feeling that all of these attacks were only a precursor to a much bigger problem.

He wanted to find out more about the beings that were called vampires. He believed that knowing your enemy was the best way in the path to defeating him.

And while he did not think that Whale was lying to the group, Killian was certain that the doctor did not actually know as much as he thought he did.

So Killian went to the one person who had traveled the many realms and has encountered various beings of power.

William Smee.

Killian suspected his former first mate knew more about what was going on than he had admitted.

Smee was not without his resources, he knew how to protect himself from the monsters that constantly invaded Storybrooke.

@cssns

[golbrocklovely]

This is very out of blue but I stopped watching sam and colby around 3ish years ago (I got burned out on their content because I used to watch them every night before I went to sleep) and now I want to get back into their videos but I’m intimidated by the sheer amount of them! I was wondering if you could recommend some that you consider a “must watch” thanks 💕

this is literally so long, i'm so sorry. but it's bc i go into detail about the different eras of snc that you've missed and whatnot lol

okay, so threeish years ago would be 2020. i'll just start from 2021 and go from there. sorry if i give you a lot, since i know you said you were overwhelmed by how many videos there are. but these are just some of my faves/ones i liked, so watch them if you want and if not, no hard feelings. if the video is highlighted red, that's a video i strongly suggest you watch just bc it's a fan favorite or is really good imo. the others are just ones to watch for funsies.

so at the beginning of 2021, they did something called 25x25. basically it was supposed to be 25 things before they turned 25. they didn't do it for very long bc it didn't really get them that many views lol

but some videos from that era i would watch are:

best friend gives me first tattoo *blindfolded* our terrifying shipwreck experience | (ran out of air) overnight in most expensive hotel room! (las vegas) our return to haunted cerro gordo ghost town (overnight) surviving overnight on an abandoned island (thunderstorms!) exploring abandoned beach hotel (heavily guarded)

then they went back into haunted videos, but it was still under the 25x25 umbrella:

our unexplainable night at queen anne hotel | room 410 the night we talked to demons. | real conjuring house our unforgettable haunted experience | shanley hotel

then they went to chernobyl. highkey, i recommend just watching the whole 2 hours movie they made. it was really good and just very interesting watch. unless you don't care about their exploring stuff, which… valid lol

then we move into hell week #1, which is something that they are still doing to this year. highlights from that are:

our horrifying night at haunted dracula's castle (real vampire) terrifying ritual in world's largest catacombs overnight in haunted waverly hills sanatorium alone in the real conjuring house | sam and colby

then they finished out the year strong with some of their best videos: our haunted night at villisca axe murder house (solved) and our demonic encounter at haunted sallie house. both of those are fucking awesome, truly.

now we get to 2022. they did seasons this year. season one was about attachments (vaguely) bc sam had one from the sallie house. highlights from season one were:

the bellaire house: a portal to hell… a night alone in haunted hospital |fairfield infirmary the stanley: usa's most haunted hotel (our return)

i'll be honest… season one wasn't my favorite lol

season two was called 'empath' bc colby was getting more into his psychic abilities… bc yes, that's now a thing. there are more highlights in this season than last:

our most demonic experience | zak bagans haunted museum our terrifying encounter at most haunted hotel the demon on goatman's bridge (w/ kallmekris) the scariest night of my life.

then they went and did a trilogy, or season three, that took place in europe. respectfully, i don't like any of these videos so they're all kinda skip for me. but they collabed with georgenotfound and wilbur soot, along with kat and stas. so if you like any of those ppl, watch the trilogy. otherwise, you ain't missing much.

then they went on to hell week #2. both hell weeks are tied in my book content wise. hw #1 stands out more just bc of the conjuring. nonetheless, highlight from hell week #2:

the hospital of nuns: a night turned demonic shadow man encounter at trans-allegheny lunatic asylum the night a demon attacked us. the demon of bell witch cave our unexplainable night at winchester mystery house

the last one is cool not bc of the investigation per se, but bc of the numerology that they get into.

snc then did two final videos for the year: our demonic encounter with world's most haunted doll and my terrifying experience alone at haunted lighthouse. the robert the doll video is fine, i think the reason why i don't love it is bc a lot of fans blame the doll on colby's cancer…… so, i personally don't feel like watching it ever again lol

then we finally get onto this year. now, they haven't posted all that much this year bc colby was sick, which i assume you know about. and if not, definitely 100% watch i have cancer. it goes into colby's whole journey.

as for the other content, here are the couple videos i've liked that they have put out this year:

surviving 3 terrifying hotels in 50 hours.. | full movie the most demonic house in england. (w/ tommyinnit & jack) the demonic secret society of england. | hellfire club the demon of chillingham castle. (w/ daz)

that only leaves out like two videos from this year but ehh. if you wanna watch everything they've done this year, feel free to.

again all of these are just suggestions so don't feel like you gotta watch all of them in one sitting or even watch all of them to begin with. honestly, just to get you prepared for what's to come, watch the conjuring videos first - since snc are gonna be post three videos on the conjuring alone for hell week. and from there watch whatever you want. if you got any other questions, feel free to ask me :)

[writingalice]

So. I think I'm not the first, but I can't stop myself to think on it and you will suffer that.

What if the Count won ? I mean, we saw Anno Dracula from Kim Newman (which is really funny, even though I should probably read it in English) but I mean for Lucy and Mina.

What if this graveyard-scene ('let's kill some vampire'-scene) didn't happened as it is recorded in the book ? Maybe someone did hesitate - maybe Arthur, who still loves Lucy, which is a thing we know ; maybe Quincey, who is far too strange and so unusual in this book that he is suspect (the man has no substance, in my memory, there is a reason why we never recall him) : maybe John Seward, who doesn't eat or sleep properly and about who we could quote Nietzche and say 'when you look long into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you.' ; maybe even Van Helsing : I always thought he gave such an impression of guiltness (well, I will surely see later, but I never really liked him). Maybe, even, it was the four men, for they stayed so long into the graveyard, looking on Lucy, that she woke up and killed them, or transformed them into vampires - and nobody knew.

Whatever. There was something wrong in the graveyard and Lucy survived. Mina was transformed, too : in this universe, I think Vamp Helsing or another man could have give her to the Count, or she went to see him and accepted to become a vampire lady if Jonathan was allowed to survive (the Count lied).

And then, look in the future. We are not going to Anno Dracula-ize this, for I don't think that's the way the Count would have take. I think he would've been patient, terrifying the locals and making a haunted reputation to the South of England, then to all England. I think he would have transform all England to this Transylvanian countries we saw in the beginning of Dracula. And a long time in the future, there would be a country of vampires, with castles ruled by loyal vampires to Dracula and peasants who live in fear. And all the vampires would be the further opposants to Dracula ; for he can control them, and he is amused by making them his puppets.

But you arrive. I don't know who you are, just a person in the future. And for some reason, you sleep in Dracula's castle - and maybe there's a reunion or something. I don't know. But you sleep in the wrong room, and then you wake up to find five women. Two are blonde and fair, even if their type of beauty is maybe a little bit old and white-centric, two have aquiline noses such as their host, and one has a Victorian dress she never left and half-piercing, half-sad eyes. They all look on you, the unusual visitor, and want to suck your blood - except maybe the one with the Victorian dress, depends on the way she got vampirized.

And you can't defend yourself - and suddenly you remember these strange tales about the South of England, the tales that made your frieds laugh and your parents worried. These tales which tell about women who were vampirized, a Lucie and a... maybe Minnie, you think. And you wonder who are the other ones, for the tales never tell about them, but you don't know.

Suddenly you understand so much things : the way the peasants looked horrified and the meaning of all those old tales, and why the man who looked like a Victorian-style lawyer gave you such a sad look. Like everyone, you heard about these monsters in England when you were a child, and like everyone you laugh about it, for you know at least one person who went and returned without any injury or strange memory. Well, you used to laugh. Now, you're starting to think you will never laugh again - probably because you will be dead.

The five women look familiar to you - then you remember : you saw them before. Your host looked familiar with them.

Here's the thing : nobody never quit Dracula. All his opposants become his servants, at the very end. And then you know, without knowing how, you just know that you will never leave the castle.

And then the five women smile at you, you who just awakened in horror, and one of them says 'Welcome, my good friend'.

All this quite-of-a-fanfic just to say I'm sure Drac would have added Lucy and Mina to his brides... that was unexpected. hope you liked it.

[slutforagoodsmut]

Imagine: Dracula’s daughter

She had always been a daddy’s girl, that was certain. Since she was an infant she was attached to him by the hip, always followed him around the castle, always found him fascinating. Of course she loved her mother and Alucard as well. Days her father was busy she’d stay in her mother’s laboratory, watching Lisa mix medicines and asking questions.

“What is this?” she’d ask, barely able to look over the table. Her mother would only laugh and pick her up, sitting her down on the smooth slab of her work space. 

“This is a new medicine I’m working on. It will help sick people become strong and healthy, just like you!” Lisa would poke her daughter’s tummy and the little dhampir girl would squirm in a fit of giggles. She loved her mother, she looked up to her.

Her and her brother always found things to do around the castle, painting and writing poetry, playing tag or hide and seek, which Alucard always won for some odd reason. 

“You cheated!” she whined, crossing her arms. 

“I did not!” Alucard stuck his tongue out at his sister. “I’m just older and faster than you!”

“By a minute! You are older by a minute!” 

And at the end of the day, the young dhampir would always find herself in her father’s study, reading a book beside him or begging him to read to her. She’d always end up falling asleep in his lap and he’d carry her to bed, tucking her in and kissing her goodnight. He loved her, he loved his little girl with all his undead heart. Of course there was Lisa, the love of his life, and he did love his children equally, but she always had a special place in his heart.

As the years went on, the girl blossomed into a beautiful young woman. She had long, onyx locks like her father and a sharp tongue like her mother. She was snarky and always had something to say, but she was kind and she was loving, and she had such a big heart full of passion and wonder. She wanted to help others just like her mother, often visited houses of the ones who Lisa was close to and aided her mother if she needed it. Alucard and her loved to duel one another, and she made sure she always won. They picked on each other and instigated but it was all out of great fun. The princess took long walks with her father at night and he told her about his new discoveries between vampires and humans, and her being her, was always fascinated and wanted to know more. 

Like Alucard and her mother, she had the privilege of stepping out into sunlight without a problem. She grew her fangs in before her brother when she was a small infant, which to this day she enjoys hanging over his head. She was tall and strong, and very fast, as well as very skilled with a sword. She had long nails she could extend and retract and could turn into animals, making it easier to stalk her prey at night. 

Everything was....perfect, you might say. Her life was perfect, sure she lacked friends but she had a wonderful home and a loving family that she could depend on. 

That all changed after that horrific night in 1475. When Lisa Tepes was killed everything crumbled to dust. The love in the castle had disappeared, it was so cold and dark and stunk of misery. 

She grew strained from her father once Alucard had left home. She didn’t want him to go and he didn’t want to leave her, but they both knew it was for the best. 

In a year, it was almost like two complete strangers shared a home. Dracula made no effort to connect with his daughter as he was so caught up with damning the whole world to hell, and in that time his daughter pushed him away. She barely spoke with him, didn’t even attempt to at this point. He was so angry, so angry with the world and with everyone in it. Lisa wouldn’t have wanted this, her children knew that. Their mother was a part of the human race, mortality ran through the children’s blood. They were a part of them, and their father wanted to burn them all. 

She grew angrier and angrier with her father as the dreadful days passed on. He let these other vampires into their home and they did whatever they wanted! And what did he do, wallow away into nothing in his library, sitting in front of the fireplace every single day! Pathetic! Absolutely pathetic! 

One day, she had enough. Dracula’s daughter couldn’t stand a single day more in that castle, enraged with her father she planned to leave. She considered leaving without telling him, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. So, with a satchel over her shoulder holding her most valuable things, she walked into her father’s library. The back of his chair was to her, and yes, he stared into his fireplace like he always had. 

“I’m leaving.” she spoke up, gripping the strap of her bag. Nothing, he didn’t say a word, he didn’t even move a muscle in his seat. His daughter only sighed, a tear rolling down her cheek as she turned away. “Goodbye, father.”

Part of her never wanted to see him ever again. Part of her wanted nothing more to do with her father, but she knew deep down their paths would cross again, and she’d end up in that castle once more. 

She was alone, really alone this time, she had no one to turn to, she kept her distance from strangers and if they gave her trouble she’d risk the danger and bear her fangs, making them all run away in fear. The one night, one fateful night, she had run into her brother and two others who accompanied him. She was running through the woods as night creatures attacked, she’d slaughtered as many as she could, but they were closing in on her. In that moment she felt powerless till three beings came out of the thick woods and ended the monsters’ rampage.

“Alucard?” she whispered, leaning herself against a tree, holding her side which bled a concerningly amount. 

He gasped, his eyes widened with shock as he looked at his dear sister. “Sister?”

“You have a sister?” The strange woman spoke up in her thick accent. 

“Oh god, not another one of you....” A tall dark haired man grumbled, slapping his hand over his face. 

Alucard’s sister ran over to him and threw her arms around him as hard as she could. She couldn’t believe it. She had so many questions. How was he here? Why wasn’t he underground like he said he’d be? Who were these people? 

Overtime, these questions were answered. The woman was a speaker, her name was Sypha, and that other oaf of a man was a Belmont, Trevor Belmont, a vampire’s sworn enemy. She thought they died off years ago, but never mind that. Her brother had woken from his year of slumber when the two of them accidentally found him (more so Trevor than Sypha) and asked if he’d help them in their quest.

“We’re going to the castle...” Alucard spoke softly. His sister sat across from him, staring quietly into the fire they had made. She wasn’t stupid, she could put the puzzle pieces together. They were going there to end Dracula’s terror for once and for all. Her heart broke, just like it had before. She had to come to terms with killing their father, it was such a painful thing to imagine but...if that meant millions and millions of people would survive, then so be it. 

“It just hurts, ya’know? I mean, how could anyone go through with the idea of murdering their father?”

“He’s not our father, not anymore at least.”

Alucard was right, she hated to admit it. That monster conducting all of this genocide wasn’t their father. Their father was loving and caring, and this man....wasn’t any of that. The king of darkness was blinded by a rage and there was no looking back. Their father died when Lisa Tepes took her last breath. 

One by one, she slit the throats of dozens. Striking her sword through vampire soldiers, beheading the generals who held councils in her very home, the ones who practically took her home away from her. Was it truly still her home, she couldn’t tell, all she knew it as now was Vlad Dracula’s hideout, nothing more. She would get her revenge on every last one of them, her fists driving through their chests and yanking out their still beating hearts, crushing them in her palms. How dare they mock her home as if it were their own little sanctuary. How dare they. 

“Alucard--you, Belmont and Sypha fight off those night creatures! I’m going to find our father!” She yelled as she climbed the steps. 

Alucard impaled a night creature “Be careful! He’ll hurt you!” 

But she was already down the hall and up the steps to her father’s library. Millions of thoughts ran through her mind. The guilt of it all, having to go through an act that would be considered unspeakable under God’s law. Half vampire or not, she knew she’d be damned to hell in the end. 

She took in a few breaths before peeking in. Her father, to her surprise, was not slumped in his chair but standing, he grabbed one of his forgemasters, Isaac, and threw him through his mirror. Isaac let out a scream and the mirror broke into pieces, falling on the ground. 

“Father.” She spoke, walking into the room. Dracula tensed up, turning his body towards the door, bearing his fangs. 

“My child, the betrayer.”

Her chest tightened, eyes wide. Betrayer? He thinks she betrayed him?

“I did no such thing.” 

“Lies!” He snapped, his eyes blood red. “You walked out of this castle and turned your back on your own father!” 

“Well you had already turned your back on me!” She screamed at him. “You didn’t try to make me stay! You didn’t even attempt to!”

“I knew what side you were on from the beginning. You were a lost cause.” Dracula’s voice was cold and harsh. 

Tears sprouted at the corner of her eyes. “How could you even say that?! You act like you were the only one who lost someone!” 

Dracula turned away from his daughter, seething with anger. 

“You weren’t there! You were never there! All you’ve done was cause havoc!” 

“I did it all for her!” Dracula roared, whipping around and towering his large body over hers. 

“And look where that got you!” She bellowed back at him, eyes now blood red as tears streamed down her face. “Look where that got you. You pushed Alucard away, you pushed me away. Mother would never--” Her body was thrown across the room and she hit the bookshelf, falling to the ground. She wheezed out, coughing out blood. He struck her. He...struck her. Her vision was foggy, but she could make out her father standing on the other side of the room. She tried to stand up but she couldn’t, her body didn’t let her. Again she tried, but she couldn’t do it. She hadn’t had blood in such a long time, she’s grown too weak. Why she didn’t consider that going into this mess she doesn’t know, but it was a stupid mistake. Suddenly her world went dark, and she laid unconscious on the ground. 

It wasn’t too long till she had woken up from her spot, her father no longer in the library. She could hear screaming from above her. She gasped, getting up as quick as she could and stumbling over herself. Alucard. 

She ran and ran, going up another floor, and then another. The dhampir suddenly collided with Sypha and Belmont. 

“You’re alright!” Sypha exclaimed. 

“Where is he!? Where is Alucard?!”

“Upstairs, with Dracula!” 

Her vampire senses tingled. His room. They were in Alucard’s old room. She bolted up the floors and down the hall. They were screaming, things were being shattered, she could feel the whole castle shake beneath her feet. 

Alucard was thrown against the wall, their father closing in on him, ready to finish the job. 

“ENOUGH!” His sister shrieked at the top of her lungs, stepping in between them.  Her father stopped in his tracks. 

There she stood, sword in both hands, pointing the tip against her own chest. 

“What--What are you doing?!” Dracula bellowed. 

Alucard shook his head, fear in his eyes. “No, don’t do it!” 

“I’d rather kill myself than live in this world with you, you monster!” 

With that, somehow Dracula had come to his senses. The night filled the room, the moonlight shining in through the window. Dracula gasped, his eyes no longer flaming with hatred, but filled with sadness. His daughter kept the sword where it was and she began to cry, hard, endless tears rushing down her pale face. 

“Look what you’ve done father...” She sobbed, hands trembling. 

Dracula stared at her, then at her brother, then finally his hands. “What am I doing? I....” he choked on his words. “My children, my son and daughter. I’m killing them Lisa. I’m killing our children.” He walked over to a painting that hung on the wall. It was of all of them; Dracula and Lisa, both holding their bundles of joy. He looked at his children again and truly realized how much hurt he’s caused them. How much pain he’s caused his daughter. She mourned in their home, alone, while he selfishly sought out revenge. “My daughter would rather end her life than live in a world with her father.” he looked at her, tears now running from his eyes, “These are the walls we raised them in, loved them unconditionally. These are the walls we painted, the toys we made for our son. I’m so sorry....I....what have I done?” Dracula walked over to her and took the sword out of her hands, pointing it’s sharp tip against his own chest and placing it back in her hands. 

“Your greatest gifts to me, and I’m killing them.”

Alucard got up and stood next to his sister, placing his hands around hers. He wouldn’t let her do this alone. 

“I must already be dead...”

Her heart pounded in her chest so hard she thought she was going to throw up. “I love you....” the girl managed to get out in a strangled cry, looking her father in the eyes. She could see it in his pleading eyes, silently begging them to put an end to his misery, to theirs and the world’s. In those quiet moments, he hoped she knew how much he truly loved her. How special she really was. 

She shut her eyes tightly for a second as her and her brother drew her sword into her father’s chest. He groaned in pain, blood spilling out of his mouth as more coppery tears spilled out of his eyes. 

She would forever be his little girl. 

WOOOOH that was a long one! I told ya’ll I’d write some sad shit. Ok I’m gonna go cry myself to sleep now, like, comment and reblog!🥳🥳

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

hiiii i'm new here and i loved her writing, she made me happy argh ♡. Okay I can ask for a scenario with Alucard, where the Reader is a Kitsune, with ears and tails, she is basically a spirit of the forest, but she was attracted by the melancholy of his Castle. And ignoring his warnings at the entrance, she starts to leave bouquets of flowers and small jewels at the entrance to the castle. She is very shy, always running before he sees her. you can ignore this and sorry for my bad English.

A/N: Your English is just fine! And I’M sorry for the long wait. 

♡      ♡      ♡

Kitsune!Reader x Alucard (Post S3) Imagine:

As a kitsune, you were incredibly clever. You also knew everything that happened within your forest. After all, you were its designated guardian spirit. Most recently, as you performed your guardian duties, a massive castle manifested next to the crumbled former Belmont estate. You had experienced some turbulence before; with your forest so close to a great monster’s hunter’s former home, it came with the territory. However, this castle’s sudden appearance was the work of someone greater than any of the road magicians you had experienced in the past. You remembered quite clearly how it came to be there.

Many nights ago, a down-trodden band of travelers came through on a covered wagon to the famed Belmont estate. There were three of them, and they seemed to work well together. They vanished into a hidden spirit door under the rubble, and you didn’t hear anything for hours. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, this giant monstrosity of a castle appeared not too far from where the travelers had vanished. Upon closer inspection, you realized you recognized the castle from tales of long ago. It belonged to Dracula.

When the group surfaced, you took the liberty of getting a better look at those faces. Much to your surprise, you found a Speaker, the last surviving son of the House of Belmont, and Alucard- Dracula’s son.

You didn’t dare follow them past the threshold of the castle, but from what your large fox ears could hear, a lengthy battle must have ensued. When the sun came up later that morning, only the three travelers emerged, looking rather worse for wear. You deducted they were the only survivors.

It was puzzling, to say the least. You understood why Belmont would want to kill Dracula and his associates. And you guessed that as a Speaker, the strange woman would most likely be against the persecution or genocide of any race or species. But you couldn’t imagine why the dhampir, Alucard, Dracula’s only son, would agree to end his Father’s reign in such a way. Yes, it was a necessary sacrifice, but still, it must have been incredibly difficult for the vampire boy to do so.

He seemed so serious. You wondered if it was even possible to make him smile. Perhaps his friends were capable of cheering him up? But if they were, you wouldn’t have known it because no sooner than the deed was done, did Belmont and the Speaker take off in the covered wagon. They left Alucard all alone, which seemed insensitive. You knew it wasn't your responsibility; the castle was technically out of forest bounds, but your curiosity had gotten the best of you.

You ventured closer to the castle, cautiously leaving the safety of your home’s foliage behind. And you were glad you did because once you ventured just a tad bit closer, your big fox ears had managed to detect the sound of sobbing.

The poor Alucard boy was crying.

Oh, you felt so awful! You wanted so desperately to comfort him, but at the same time, your shy and sneaky nature forbid you from talking to him outright. He seemed to need companionship. But at the same time, you recognized he wasn’t in any physical danger. On the other hand, the occupants of your forest needed you to protect them from cruel trackers and hunters who wished to do them harm. So, you simply said a quick blessing over him and continued on your way.

This pattern of yours continued for some time. You were drawn to the melancholy of the castle. It called out to your very soul. For that reason, you continued to discreetly visit and speak blessings over the castle and its occupant.

It was a month or so into this routine when those two showed up. You sensed dark energy resonating within them and as a result, you kept a close eye on them as they approached Alucard. You were surprised at how well he could hold his own in a fight and wondered if you were less sneaky if his dhampir ears would detect you. But that concern was far from your mind. You wanted to keep your forest safe from those two mysterious travelers. You didn’t trust them.

As it turned out, you were right not to.

You didn’t know how or why it happened… All you knew is one week you went to give your blessing to the castle, only to find the corpses of those two travelers up on pikes at the front entrance. You felt the situation had escalated, and simple enchantments and blessings would no longer be enough to protect the heart of Alucard and his castle.

You started leaving gifts whenever you went to say a blessing. They were just small things, an arrangement of acorns, flower wreaths, fresh berries, and sweet-smelling tree leaves.

When you came back, you noticed your gifts were gone, clearly taken inside by Alucard. Your heart soared. It made you glad to help. At the same time, it made you worried. Now that Alucard knew he had a visitor, he would be on the lookout for his mysterious gift giver.

A part of you wanted to be his friend, but the shy part of you knew it was best to stay hidden. After all, kitsune were clever creatures. If you made a fool of yourself in front of your crush, it would seriously damage your reputation.

You were very proud of your most recent gift. It was a collection of crystals, and jewels travelers had lost in your forest throughout the years. You were placing the final touches of flower petals and twigs around the jewels when your large kitsune ears detected footsteps approaching. You quickly had rushed to finish your gift’s presentation before you dashed off, back into the woods.

From a safe distance, you watched as Alucard exited the doors of his castle and made his way to your gift.

You weren’t certain, because you were fairly far away, but when you squinted, you thought you could see the faintest traces of a smile on his face.

♡      ♡      ♡ 

A/N: If you enjoyed this ask, please consider donating to my Ko-Fi!

[johaerys-writes]

Fandom: Castlevania

Pairings: Alucard/Trevor Belmont/Sypha, Hector/Lenore

Summary:

After Trevor gets grievously injured by a night creature, he and Sypha return to Dracula’s castle to seek Alucard’s help. The man they find there, however, is but a shadow of the friend they left behind.

Meanwhile, in far Styria, Hector does his best to survive in the vampires’ court, a lamb amidst wolves. Little do the wolves know, the lamb has fangs of its own.

Chapter 11: Where Shadows Dwell is up! Hector and Lenore have an important conversation, while Trevor, Adrian and Sypha spend a cosy morning in bed 🥰

Read on AO3! Or read from the beginning

There is a faint breeze blowing through the gardens. The fabric of Hector's cloak whispers about his feet with every gust of wind, his skin prickling. He gathers his cloak tighter about him, stealing glances at Lenore beside him.

Swaths of dark blue fabric peek through the folds of her white fur coat. Moonlight glitters on her porcelain skin, swims in the blood-red cascades of her hair. Her perfume reaches him every time the wind blows: jasmine and cherry wine, and something else, that's just her. 

"You're quiet, Hector," she says softly, and her voice glides down his spine like a caress. "Is something on your mind?"

Hector huffs a dry laugh. Is something not on his mind? He can't stop his mind from tirelessly working when he's with her. It's as if it's working at a million miles an hour to prevent any oncoming disaster.

Will it be enough? he wonders. 

"Not much," he replies. "I was simply remembering that the last time we walked together, I was wearing a collar. It's hard not to think of that, in fact."

He expects Lenore to flinch or get angry at him. But she only laughs. "Well, I'd call this an improvement, wouldn't you?" 

No, Hector wants to say, but he holds his tongue. The leash he's wearing now is impossible to break, not without destroying himself in the process. 

They walk together through the snow-tipped trees of the garden, close but not quite close enough, their arms brushing every so often when they move.

When he remains quiet after that, it's Lenore that speaks again. She tells him about her work, the letters she's had to send that day, the gold and resources she's tried to secure. Morana and Striga are still on the road, securing the surrounding countryside closest to their castle. After the first bases have been established, their plan will be set in full motion.

Hector listens silently, unease coiling in his stomach at the thought. If the sisters are so close to implementing their plan, then they will soon be needing the undead armies he'll be making for them. He will soon need to finish creating his hammer. He's stalled long enough, but he knows it's only a matter of time until he's incapable of doing that anymore.

Truth is, he's not entirely sure why he's stalling. His life would have been easier if he went along with everything the sisters wanted of him, if he gave them everything they asked for. But something within him withers at the prospect. He doesn't want all those people to be killed or used as mindlessly as he has been, by his hand or his creations'. There was a time when he hardly cared how many humans were killed in Dracula's war, as long as they were not brutally savaged. But things are different now. Vampires are no better than humans in their cruelty, he's learnt that well. And he feels compelled to resist them, even if he ends up getting hurt in the process.

More than anything, he wants Carmilla to fall and eat fucking dirt. His entire being rebels at the thought of helping her do anything. He'd rather burn in the flames of Hell for eternity rather than do that. 

"Morana keeps calling me through her transmission mirror from the field to whine about her aching feet and the lack of proper baths," Lenore chuckles beside him, oblivious to the storm that's raging within Hector's mind. "In truth, I'm surprised she's even lasted that long. I don't know what she expected: she loves luxury, but there's none to be had when you're on the road with Striga. I've found out the hard way once or twice. But there's no prying those two apart." She shakes her head, and a fond smile appears on her lips. The low heels of her dainty black shoes click on the hard stone floor. "I envy that, sometimes," she says softly. 

"Being on the road with Striga?" Hector asks flatly, shivering a little when the wind whips through his hair again. 

"Not quite." Lenore laughs, glancing up at him through her thick lashes. "No. At least, not exactly." 

Hector follows her up the wide marble steps at the edge of the garden, then on the wide balcony they lead on to. Lenore leans against the railing with a soft sigh, gazing out into the valley below. Snow and ice stretch as far as the eye can see, glittering like diamond dust in the moonlight. 

"There are times when… I envy their companionship," she whispers, her voice almost carried away by the rustling of the night wind. "No matter what happens, they have each other."

Hector's fingers curl around the railing beside her. He can feel the frozen marble through the leather of his gloves. "I thought that this was the case with all four of you," he says. "That you crafted those rings so that you would always be together. Is that not so?"

"Yes. We'll always be there for one another; I know my sisters would give their life for me, if needed and I would do the same. But Striga and Morana are sworn to each other in a way they are not to Carmilla or myself. They care about each other. They love each other. What they have is different from friendship or sisterhood, it's… deeper." She glanced up at him with her sanguine eyes. "Don't you think?"

Hector gazes into those eyes for a moment longer than perhaps he should. "I wouldn't know," he says. He looks away, focusing on the expanse of snow below. "No one's ever cared about me this much. And I have never been this close with anyone." 

He speaks to her in earnest, but he can't quite help the bitterness that rises with it. Hector has never really known love. His own mother thought him a monster; to his father he was worse than a dog. He's learnt from a young age to care for himself, to rely only on himself. It hasn't always worked, obviously —if it did, he wouldn't be here now, in this predicament— but the sentiment is there all the same.

Trusting others is as good as signing his own death sentence. Hector doesn't know much, but he knows this. 

Lenore stays silent beside him for a long while. When she speaks, her voice is almost carried away by a sharp gale. "You don't really believe that," she says, "do you?"

Read the rest on AO3!

[natandacat]

Can u fill the bingo sheet for Kim Kitsuragi and Jonathan Harker? :3c

Omg Kim Kitsuragi my beloved my favorite man ever tysm

Ok so starting with the hearts because I love him:

They are sooo cool looking: self explanatory. Design of all times. The pants. The jacket. The glasses. The cigarette???? Hello Kim I would actually be gay in the other direction just for you

If they were real I would marry them: see above. Also our values match and it would be an honor

They've never done anything wrong in their life ever: I have so many thoughts and emotions about the way he navigates his job in the police, about his moral journey through the system and the way he handles both his identity within that constraint and his moral beliefs. Despite everything I believe he manages to remain ethical to the best of his abilities, and i find this inspiring. The way he quietly enables Harry is not in my opinion a moral failing; while he never intervenes, part of his apparent inaction is rooted in both a willingness to let Harry prove himself (which is remarkable given the state we find him in) and a carefully honed sense of survival -which is best exemplified when Harry does morally reprehensible things (which i havent witnessed much since i refuse to chose the fascist options). In the rare cases where I've seen it, his quietness (which protects his precarious status within the police force) always carries judgment, and we see Harry having the option to adjust to that judgment and change for the better.

They're like a blorbo to me: at any given time I am wondering if Kim would approve of my actions

They're deeper than they seem: well idk if anyone thinks he's shallow, but he def turned out to be deeper than I expected (which was also because I never thought the game would be THAT well written)

I like them enough to project my own issues onto them: ahah no Kim don't navigate a system in which you are made complicit of your own oppression while desperately trying to be a force of good

I'm mentally ill about them: self explanatory

They work better as a dynamic (?): Kim would be A+ alone but his role as Harry's (and the player's) moral compass and loyal partner (simultaneously!!!) is truly what reveals the most depth in him imo

Ok after that im afraid my good friend jonathan will not get as many thoughts because I am tragically behind on his emails I don't even know how he's doing rn I hope he's OK

Not as deep as they seem: I might change my mind but jonathan feels more like a vessel type character -I can project myself into him but so far im not getting a terribly tangible identity from him, which is fine esp in this kind of story, he's just not a fictional character i would become obsessed with

I want to carry them in a handbag like a tiny dog: I'm shoplifting/smuggling him away from dracula's castle

Free space: I just find him very funny im sorry. Rich English boy so blinded by his classism and xenophobia that he heeds NO warnings. Im sorry but if he dies he will have deserved it a little bit

I don't really have much to say about them: again my opinion may change as I advance in the story, but so far he makes me feel more things about myself than about him if that makes sense

[demonfox38]

Okay. Made it through the last season of Netflix's "Castlevania" interpretation. Thoughts are below the cut.

I've often thought of this series as the exploitation version of "Castlevania," and hiring Malcom McDowell confirms that.

Although, I find it hilarious that both Malcolm McDowell and Patrick Stewart have ended up voicing the same character. I'm sure there's a "Star Trek Generations" joke to be made in there, but I'm not Mike Stoklasa.

Also, I was cracking up a bit when Varney's plot twist happened. Mostly, because it came off a bit Skeletor-esque in vocal performance.

Also, also—laughing that the final boss went the "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence" route despite barely touching on that game's plot.

Animation had its ups and downs with this season. It seemed like there were some frame issues (not enough inbetweening.) I do appreciate how they incorporated more of Alucard's SOTN animations into his fights, however.

Additionally, some of the fight scenes' pacing seemed to have issues, particularly regarding weapon recovery.

The whole bit with St. Germain was off. Like, he's a weird asshole in "Castlevania: Curse of Darkness", but he's more of a weird asshole there in the same way that casually encountering "Doctor Who"'s Doctor would also be strange. Not a straight up villainous boob. Kinda makes sense thematically to have another character who is willing to do horrible shit for their lost loved one, but the series honestly did not do a good job establishing her. Like, did she even have a voice actor? Or a name? All I'm saying is it was much easier for outsiders to get the Lisa revenge thing Dracula had going.

Also, how dare you joke about not being deaf and then have a villainous monologue, TV show.

Greta's a good girl. Well, outside of being an occasional homewrecker. Point is, she's competent and trying her best to save people in a bad situation, and anyone having issues with her is not to be trusted in the same way that you don't trust people who don't like Rochelle from "Left 4 Dead 2."

Look at me. Do not trust people who do not like Rochelle from "Left 4 Dead 2." Yes, her writing could have been better, but she's still a viable character. Let people Thunder Child their ships on the rocks of your better self. Got me?

Also, y'all really need to embrace more polyamory. Or understand the fact that Alucard's not going to love just one person in his life. Dude lives to be at least 600 in the game's timeline. For a dude who loves humans, constricting him to just one who may live to be 100 at best is cruel.

There are some interesting philosophical dialogues going on here, but I can see where some people may lose their patience for them. Considering one of Castlevania's most popular memes is a philosophy debate, you're just gonna have to suck that up. My personal favorites included the topic of acting versus reacting, as well as having agency in one's story.

Striga's battle theme was cool, but otherwise, the music was forgettable. Yes, that is a sin. Punishable by Death? In this series, maybe!

The gore's still over the top. Which, okay, fine. There's a bit of that in game. It's just generally a bit more reserved with it or uses it in crucial boss fights.

RIP doggie.

The Targoviste plot's a bit of a wash, but it doesn't feel as useless as Trevor and Sypha's previous plot predicament. It's just nothing of a surprise, considering how many times the writing has played the "authority figures are useless" and "dark secret surprise" tropes in this series. Like, Greta being reliable is actually more surprising than anything with this plot.

I cannot emphasize enough how boring I found Carmilla's interpretation and plot arc. You guys could have had a giant, naked lesbian riding a skull and spewing magic at people while her cat-eared girlfriend jumped them for extra damage. But no. Vanilla lady with a scarlet sword for you. So long. Farewell. Auf Wiedersehen. Good night.  

Gotta say, as much of a deviation from his source character as he is, Isaac really turned out well in this series. He's definitely evidence that you don't always need to stick to source material.

His Abel is fucking sick, dude. Way to go, king.

Also, I was expecting more violence from Hector this season. Oh, well. At least he got a teeny bit of a spine.

Look. I'm not an alchemist by any means. I'm just a bit baffled by this season's emphasis of obtaining a Rebis. Like, any time the game series has talked about the Magnum Opus of Alchemy, it's more been in pursuit of making a Philosopher's Stone (or at the very least, a Crimson Stone, as seen in "Castlevania: Lament of Innocence.") Pulling a Rebis out of the aether is…well. Could have been more interesting than it was. I mean, it was a bit nightmarish, but it really didn't do much.

Sypha's really never getting back to her family, is she?

Love the idea that the cross subweapon is basically a fancy chakram.

GERGOTH. BUDDY. FRIENDO.

Really appreciating the monster variety in these last two seasons. I mean, that's a big selling point of the "Castlevania" games. Not so much vampires standing around and bickering in dick-waving contests.

Breaking out of the bullet points to hit on the big subject of this season—that is, the ending being surprisingly happy.

There's been a lot of shit that's happened over the last few years. Obviously, a pandemic. Konami's run by pricks. Then, there's the situation with the allegations of sexual coercion with Warren Ellis. Additionally, the terrible ending of "Game of Thrones" likely impacted how this season was developed, considering it seemed to be chasing its progression in construction. (I mean, look at Carmilla and Daenerys.) I don't know how many people were happy with the last season of "Castlevania," but from my POV, it double-tapped itself in the foot with the way it pushed simultaneous sex and violence in its last two episodes. My point is, there was little taste for additional darkness, considering everything that has been happening. Society is drained.

A happy ending was what people really wanted. And man, did this pull through, in that regard. But, there's a conversation to be had in if this swerved too far or if it violates some artistic integrity to give people what they want. So, let's have it.

Look. Man. Have you seen a "Castlevania" ending? When you do it right, it's crumbled castles and rainbow-colored skies. If you do it really right, it results in a pretty girl holding the main character's hand. There is happiness in these games. Hope. Forgiveness and redemption. If this is supposed to be any bit an accurate interpretation of these games, it absolutely should end in such a joyful fashion. (Okay, maybe giving Dracula and Lisa a second honeymoon at the end was a bit much, but I get where people would want that.)

Did some items need to be addressed more? Absolutely. Alucard staking people and Hector getting sexually coerced into servitude are some pretty big topics to just wave away. (Oh, shit. That second part is even worse now with what Ellis was allegedly doing, isn't it?) I suppose I'm just glad the series didn't go full Sephiroth with Alucard. And at least Hector finally took some stand in his situation, even if it wasn't the bombastic, hateful revenge I'm used to seeing from this character in other stories.

I think the creators of this series were trying to save this show from the fate of "Game of Thrones." (To some extent, perhaps the "Voltron" re-interpretation as well.) There's so much media out there anymore that if a production team doesn't nail the ending, their creation gets wiped out of the collective consciousness. To that extent, I think the creators were successful in saving their series. Did it do damage to itself in yanking out of its construction and themes? A bit. But, in doing so, it pivoted back to being more like a proper "Castlevania" product. (And of course, by proper, I mean anything ignoring "Lords of Shadows." God, people need to stop chasing other products when developing "Castlevania" stuff and just let the series be as it is.)

I am very curious as to how much of this season was part of an original draft and how much was revised in backlash to everything that has happened. It doesn't seem like Trevor was intended to survive, but to some extent, Sypha had to. (I mean, until she has a kid, anyway. See "Lords of Shadows" series for dickery regarding that.) I'm also wondering if there was more intended for the Carmilla subplot, as much as the series was banging on about her invading locations. I'm not even sure St. Germain was intended to be a villain all along. Getting into a bitchfight with Death? Sure. Doing what he did here? That's a weird arc, dude.

If you come away from my POV with anything, it should be this: GO PLAY THE GAMES.

Do it. Do it, you ghouls. Go to the Steam store and download the "Castlevania Anniversary Collection." Boot up your PS3 or 4 or 18 or whatever and get "Symphony of the Night." Throttle Nintendo's stores until "Aria of Sorrow" or "Dawn of Sorrow" or "Harmony of Dissonance" or whatever rattles out of their moldy pockets. Find a ROM. Find an ISO. Just play a game. Especially, one of the ones made before 2010.

"Castlevania" as a game series isn't about hordes of vampires dick-waving at each other or edgy swearing or being grim and dark. Some of that stuff's there, sure. But, at its core, it's what game developers created when they looked at Universal Monster Movie creations and went "That's cool. Let's fight that!" It's a series about pushing technology in MMC chips to make rich, vibrant music. It's about flourishing artwork and layers of sprites dripping particles and gore onto players. It's sober and goofy and very pro curry.

The thing is, "Castlevania" players have their own unique connection to the series. We're the weirdos you see clapping their hands when a mutilated dinosaur shows up on screen. It's not because the monster alone is cool. It's that we've fought and struggled and bodied that thing through several floors like a goddamn "X-Men: Children of the Atom" stage. It's kicked our asses. We've kicked its ass. We've got a connection to it that you just don't get from passively watching it barf lasers through a computer monitor or TV screen. Like, you know how people go, "Well, the movie wasn't as good as the book?" It's obnoxious, sure. But, those who read the source materials have to go to the effort of constructing their own sets and people to understand what's happening. In a similar fashion, game players build up their own skill set to reach that next rung.

Maybe you don't always get a payout when you invest your resources into something. But, there is a sense of accomplishment, seeing what you can do.

There's a reason this series got an adaptation. I mean, outside of Konami's head executives wanting easy money. "Castlevania" is a fantastic video game series. Has it got a few problems? Oh yeah. Especially after outsourcing and pachislot machines became all the rage. But, there's a reason Simon and Richter Belmont are playable in "Super Smash Bros. Ultimate." There's a reason I spent a significant amount of time playing these games and writing or drawing fanworks for it. These games are wonderful. Beautiful. Difficult, but inspiring. Reasons I will still bang on about them decades years down the road.

When I get exasperated by layers of angst and edge lord content this Netflix series generated, I want you to know why. The roots of this show are good games held captive under poor management. Some people on staff know this. I wish they had more scenario and writing control. But mostly, I don't want to shit on them or their work. (Well, other than perhaps the obvious target.) I just want you to see what I love in these games.

And also to watch Crashervania. Because that's legit.

[bemused-writer]

Game!Hector VS Show!Hector + Some Story Predictions

Originally, this post was going to be about my thoughts on the Castlevania series more generally, but then I had too many thoughts about several characters, so this post just turned into a look at Hector, who I personally find pretty interesting.

His character also demonstrates some of the more obvious changes the show has made and I can attest that people have Opinions about Hector in particular, so I kind of want to talk about the character for a bit.

First, a visual comparison:

Visually speaking, not much has changed. He has gray/silver hair and his outfit is much the same, though some of the more dramatic bits from the game are toned down (most notably the shoes, though you can't make that out here). His skin tone is a little darker in the show, possibly to make his Greek heritage a bit more obvious.

His backstory is... kind of changed. To be honest, the game did not care about backstory. XD I know they had a tie-in manga for the game, but I'm not going to be bringing that into this because I've never read it. This is going to strictly compare what we know from the game compared to what we know in the show, mostly to keep things simple for myself.

So, Hector's background in the game is very simple: he betrayed Dracula after he started killing humans (unclear if the killing of humans was the actual problem or just how he was going about it), left him, renounced his devil forging as evil, married a woman named Rosaly, and then set out to avenge her death after she was burned at the stake for being a witch.

His backstory in the show is quite a bit more detailed, but tonally quite different. He was often isolated as a child for being considered a freak for his ability to raise dead animals (his devil forging), which he kept as pets. His own parents despised him, and at some point he burned his house down with them inside. In other words, he murdered his parents. At some point he met Dracula and the strike up a bond and later joins him to "cull" the humans who have always mistreated him. He very specifically wants it to be a cull and not a genocide; he thinks with a manageable population, people will be ... better? I guess? Anyway, Dracula lies, says sure that's what we'll do, and he joins him. He does not have a wife (this is before he would have met her anyway), and therefore vengeance isn't a plot point.

Part of the problem in comparing this is that these two Hectors are set in different points of time. Game!Hector has already betrayed Dracula and moved on with his life. Show!Hector has just joined him on his crusade.

His personality is where we can see the bulk of the rewrite, however. Game!Hector was a no nonsense, take charge kind of guy that alternated righteous fury and outright bullheadedness with aristocratic manners and gentlemanly behavior. It was simply fantastic. He knew what his goal was (avenge his wife), pursued it (killed Dracula) and then called it a day. Perfect. Maybe not a ton of nuance (but when has there ever been in this franchise?), but definitely satisfying to witness. The man has mastered pretty much every weapon you could possibly hope for, can summon innocent devils through forging, and is basically an all around powerhouse.

Show!Hector is ... not like that. At all. He has a much softer personality and a lot more quiet sorrow about him. Game!Hector was not soft and he definitely wasn't quiet or especially sorrowful despite having just lost his wife. Game!Hector was also a lot more abrasive when angry and almost stiffly cordial when he wasn't. Show!Hector actually has a sense of humor, is quieter, and actively dislikes debate.

As for fighting, show!Hector hasn't displayed his martial skill of yet, so I can't say whether he's any good at it. He uses a hammer for forging night creatures, which could be dangerous, but mostly feels practical. Basically, game!Hector feels like a warrior that cross-classed with a summoner while show!Hector feels like a full-fledged necromancer.

But probably the biggest change in personality, and the one that I think has caused the biggest rift in whether people like show!Hector or not, is that game!Hector had an absurdly strong will and was never placed in a position that made him look weak. Show!Hector has beliefs, but he's hardly flinging himself into the fray to defend them. He has been constantly manipulated and, as of season three, psychologically tortured, has developed Stockholm syndrome, and is basically going to have a lot more to work through than game!Hector ever did in terms of plot.

To put it succinctly: game!Hector was allowed way more agency while show!Hector has yet to break free of the very literal chains that bind him. Game!Hector purposefully joined Dracula, purposefully betrayed him, and purposefully chose everything else in his life. Show!Hector was manipulated by Dracula into joining his crusade under false pretenses, was manipulated by Carmilla into betraying Dracula, was kidnapped, imprisoned, manipulated by Lenore into trusting her, and is now her slave to boot thanks to a magic ring slipped on his finger during an intimate moment.

So, what with all these changes, will show!Hector ever display the backbone we're more adjusted to seeing from game!Hector? First of all, I think it's a little unfair to say he hasn't shown any. No, it hasn't been that overt, take charge attitude from the game, but show!Hector has not meekly bowed to the horrors inflicted upon him. He has survived everything that's been tossed at him.

But, if we really are just talking about when we're going to see a Hector that wipes out his enemies without a single doubt and has the resources to pull it off, well, my guess is not until season 5 at the earliest. His story arc has been pretty whumptastic as you can see. To be honest, I do feel like Hector's plot has probably had too much whump. He's basically being psychologically tortured nonstop as of season 3 and, yeah, it's probably good to point out he's not exactly a "good guy." Lest we forget, he was perfectly all right with wiping out a significant portion of mankind, but his current circumstances are just degrading and certainly aren't designed to deliver justice.

But why do I think we might see him regain his agency in season 5 as opposed to the upcoming season 4? Well, he's been made a slave of Lenore, very literally through magic, so it's unlikely he can do anything to break that of his own free will. Most likely, Isaac will storm the castle and break him out, not out of the kindness of his heart, but because he wants to kill him. However, this isn't the version of Hector he'll want to fight. A battered, broken man? There's no honor in such a fight. And that right there gives us a portion of the game's plot: Isaac wants Hector to regain all of his strength so they can have an epic battle.

Still, things are much changed. Isaac was once a slave himself in this version, and I can't help but wonder if Hector's circumstances might ring more with him in the show than they ever did in the game. I doubt they would become "friends" exactly, but perhaps a new level of understanding could be gained.

There's also the Lenore angle to consider. As I mentioned before, this version of Hector isn't married, but could his attachment to Lenore remain despite her abuse? Could Lenore end up loving him as well? And if Isaac is the one that kills her, could this be what spurs on that craving for revenge that Hector had in the game?

If so, I have mixed feelings on it. I don't believe Lenore can love Hector after what she's done to him. It would be the height of hypocrisy, but, well, she's not a good person, so that probably won't factor into things. For Hector's sake, I hope he doesn't continue to harbor any goodwill towards her. Continuing to genuinely care about her would be catastrophic. But, pretending to be under her sway? After she's already convinced he can't do a thing against her? That could be interesting because it would reverse their roles. Some possibilities there.

Regarding Hector's potential romances, it's interesting (in, you know, a disturbing way) that Hector's intimate scene with Lenore is set side-by-side with Alucard's scene with Taka and Sumi. Both of these scenes ended phenomenally badly. What is initially seen as an attempt at comfort by both Hector and Alucard turns into an incredible betrayal: Lenore turns Hector into a slave while Sumi and Taka attempt to kill Alucard for "withholding" information.

It also shows that, oddly enough, these two are in similar predicaments despite having never met. They both long for intimacy (not necessarily sexual) and for understanding, acceptance, but they never receive it. The fact that these mutual traumas are portrayed at the same time makes me wonder if these two might eventually meet and find comfort in each other, either platonic or romantic. It would certainly be dramatic; they both had ties to Dracula, were on opposite sides of the war, yet harbor basic similarities. Hector seems to long for some peace and quiet; Alucard's abode definitely has that. Alucard probably also wouldn't mind a bunch of undead pets, so... shrug

One thing I am convinced of, though, is that at some point Hector is going to have his comeuppance, one way or another. It would be incredibly disappointing if he goes through all of this and still loses in the end. That would quite the disservice to the character and, in my opinion, uninteresting. It seems much more likely we will see more of his suffering, but also how he will slowly turn it around until he has an advantage of some kind.

Also, with this comparison of the character, I suppose it would make sense to finish off with how I feel about the character. I already noted that I like game!Hector, but in truth I actually really like show!Hector as well. Yes, he's much changed, but he also has a level of depth the game didn't permit. He's sympathetic despite being on the side of evil (which is how I feel about Isaac as well, though for very different reasons). I wish his story hadn't involved so much humiliation, but that doesn't prevent me from liking the character, In fact, I think he's handled his circumstances with a remarkable amount of poise and grace all things considered. It's interesting, and I absolutely must know how he's developed further.

[dyavania]

Watch — Trevor x Sypha

Back with some Trepha! This takes place between S2 and S3, and before the two are in a relationship. Hope you’ll enjoy it!

It was the cold that woke Sypha up. She was already shivering when she finally opened her eyes. Sleepily, she reached to her side, wondering why the hell Trevor was so cold, and the answer was, obviously, that Trevor wasn’t there. That didn’t worry her exactly, she knew he could handle himself just fine, but she also knew she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep without him, both his presence and his warmth. She was particularly demanding in terms of heat, and she wasn’t used to sleeping alone, after years of traveling with the people she considered her family.

She yawned and stretched, then poked her head out of the wagon, taking the blanked with her — she wasn’t crazy enough to leave without it. The nights were extremely cold. Or perhaps she just had a very low resistance to that, she didn’t quite know.

Sure enough, Trevor was sitting under a tree. She had no idea how he could sleep like that. It looked incredibly uncomfortable, from her perspective, but his eyes were closed, and his breathing seemed to be even.

She jumped from the wagon, grimacing at the feeling of the cold ground under her feet, and quickly ran to him, still holding the blanket around her. She let herself fall heavily next to him, immediately snuggling up to him. He let out a sigh and opened his eyes. For some reason she decided not to dwell on too much, meeting his blue eyes, almost shining under the moonlight, as he was looking at her with that smirk of his, full of affection, had her blushing, and she was grateful he probably couldn’t see it.

“I can’t get rid of you, huh?”

“Nope!” she replied cheerfully, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s no use trying.”

Also, she didn’t want him to succeed.

He sighed, and wrapped his arms around her waist, lifting her with ease as he arranged his cloak under her so she wouldn’t be directly on the ground. A surprised squeak left her mouth when she was pressed against his hard chest, and that made Trevor chuckle as he unceremoniously dropped her back down onto the ground, though he didn’t remove his arm.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” she groaned, smacking his chest, “you just surprised me.”

She proceeded to arrange her blanket to cover the two of them. The warmth was already making her sleepy.

“You’re… going to stay here?” Trevor asked.

“You like sleeping under trees,” she said with a shrug, settling herself comfortably against him. “We can sleep under a tree.”

Trevor swallowed, and tightened his hold around her, just a little. He appreciated that. He knew, had she wanted to, she could have dragged him back to the wagon. Well, more like he’d have let her, but that didn’t change much.

She sighed in content at his presence, and her eyes started to close. Right. She’d been interrupted before.

Trevor couldn’t go back to sleep so easily, though. He was already a very light sleeper, something you kinda had to learn when you traveled alone, without a place to call your own. Between the bandits, the vampires, the wild animals, the thieves who walked into his room the rare times he got one in an inn, and the jealous husbands he’d encountered once or twice, he hadn’t had much choice.

Sypha’s body against him didn’t help exactly. They’d slept side by side all nights since they had left Dracula’s castle, but they’d never been that close. Right now, like this, it would be so easy to move his hand on her thigh, or to tilt her head towards him so he could steal a kiss. He wouldn’t, ‘f course not. He didn’t want to risk it. What if it scared her off? Worse, what if she didn’t feel that way about him? He didn’t think he could take it.

He cleared his throat, and Sypha’s head snapped up briefly before falling back down.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, but she didn’t reply, already back in the arms of Morpheus.

Groaning, he tried to move her a little, otherwise things would probably get real awkward in the morning. As he did, he grabbed her right arm, and he frowned when he felt the asperity under his hand. He traced the scars left by Dracula’s claws. The cauterization she’d used in the battle had been useful, effective, but that also meant she would keep them. He didn’t like it.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she said softly.

She wanted to sleep, she really did, but Trevor’s fingers moving on her skin were proving to be… distracting.

He dropped his hand, and she almost wanted to protest, but she caught herself last minute. That would be ridiculous.

“You don’t mind ‘em?”

Sypha shrugged.

“Not really. We fought Dracula and we survived. That’s why they’re here.”

Trevor chuckled at that. That girl… that girl was a fighter, and he liked that way more than he should. Still, for him, her scars were a constant reminder that he’d failed to protect her. It could have been a lot worse than that.

“I won’t let that happen to you again,” he said. His serious tone surprised her, and she looked up at him. His eyes were sad.

“You don’t need to do that. You have a lot more than I do.”

Yeah. He did, and getting them hadn’t been pleasant. That was exactly what he didn’t want for her. The pain was one thing, but the look in people’s eyes when they really wanted to hurt you… She could probably take it, he didn’t doubt it, he just— he just didn’t want her to have to go through that.

“I shouldn’t have let that happen either,” he mumbled, eyes dropping back onto her arm.

Normally, Sypha would probably have gotten a bit annoyed. She was very capable of defending herself, thank you very much, and she truly didn’t mind the scars. In fact, she wore them rather proudly. She liked the story those scars said.

But maybe, she realized, Trevor didn’t like the story his said as much. Maybe that was what he was trying to tell her.

“Trevor,” she said, cupping his face in her hand. “We were fighting against Dracula. You helped me, remember? We got out of here because we were together.”

The three of them, really, though Alucard wasn’t there for her to include him.

He hummed vaguely as a reply and glanced away from her, avoiding her eyes, but leaned into her hand, just a little.

“You’re right,” he said.

Didn’t mean he didn’t blame himself for it. But she was right.

“Of course I’m right,” she said cockily, and he grinned. “Also, I don’t need protecting. If you try to stop me from going into a fight because you want to protect me, I’ll kick your ass.”

He let out a laugh at that. Again, she was right. He wouldn’t be able to stop her if he wanted to, and, well, he didn’t want it that much, really. He liked that Sypha was a fighter. But it meant that he wouldn’t be able to protect her, and there were some fucked up things in the world. And that meant she wouldn’t be protected from that either.

That sucked. It did. But maybe, if she didn’t let him shield her from that, he could at least help her afterwards. Treat her wounds. Take care of her.

“Didn’t you wanna sleep? What’re you doing talking so much?”

She let out an offended scoff and elbowed him, but it just made him laugh. She mumbled something with an annoyed tone as she leaned against him once again.

It was only a couple of minutes before she fell asleep.

Trevor was still awake. Sure, he couldn’t protect her at all times, but he did have her back. He wouldn’t let her get harmed again if there was any way for him to prevent it, he promised himself. And it started now, with him watching over her while she slept.

He pulled the blanket up a little to cover her neck more, then settled for the night too, closing his eyes. As always, he’d sleep with one eye open. She was safe with him.

Sypha had never doubted it.

[newbeginningsforever]

Metamorphose- My Novel (Dracula/Lisa Backstory - Canon)

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/24986407/chapters/60634126#workskin

Dracula’s smile warmed his face for the first time, giving Lisa an idea of what the immortal lord would be like happy. Intrigued. Enamored. His eyes spoke to her in a subtle way, the twist of his lips upward telling her his opinions were earnestly starting to change. A face of stone and sorrow relented and gave way to one that was earnest and alive. Almost human. Lisa caught that brief gaze and held it, smiling for two reasons. One, she liked Dracula as well, and she wanted to let him know that. In the few minutes she had shared with him she could already tell he was a genius. And he had wit. He was contemplative, serious, and alone. Very, very alone. Two, this led her to wonder if the ferociousness he showed her upon first meeting her was due more to the loneliness of his heart than the nature of his kind. Really, she knew little of vampires or what they were like. 

But she was interested. Interested to know this Lord who agreed to give her a chance. She walked through the laboratory, soaking everything in. It was almost too much for her senses, and too much for her mind to comprehend. Artificial life whirred all around her. Electricity zapped and whirred like lighting inside of glass domes. Pistons fired and alembics bubbled under heat. 

The technology in the room overwhelmed her. Everything was hyper-modern to the point that it didn’t look real. Everything was stone and metal, gold, and glass. Even the wood of the lab table he had was polished to perfection and glossy so no splinters caught on her finger when she touched it. There were dozens of books just under the table on the lower bookshelves. She looked up at the bookshelves on the second level again.

“This is unbelievable. I’ve never seen such a place.”

“Have you had any education, Lisa?” Dracula asked, eyes on her as she took the time to examine the things she had never even imagined. She carefully picked up a glass vial.

“A little, yes. I worked at the hospital in the Abbey during my teenage years. In the city of Brașov. I wanted desperately to attend Schola Medica Salernitana in Salerno, but I can’t speak Italian and I cannot afford to get there, anyway. They’re the only school I know of that would teach medicine to women, and yet they’re too far away and,” she paused, not wanting to draw attention to her lack of wealth, but it was inevitable. She looked up at him. 

“I don’t have the money to take a ship. I would have to walk. And I don’t think I would survive that journey.” She admitted. That had been the most disappointing failure for her. She had been so excited and zealous when she heard there was a college that would teach medicine and surgery to women, but she lost that hope when she realized she would probably die getting there because she would run out of money, and once she had finally made it to Salerno, she would not be able to speak their language and get rejected for it.

“I see. Quite a change, this is - coming from an Abbey. Exchanging nuns for Dracula himself,” he mused, and Lisa laughed, finding it quite a funny statement. She gesticulated to draw attention to the magnificence of the laboratory.

“The nuns didn’t offer me this. Only a list of chores and a space on the floor. I’ve never heard or seen such things as this. The stories don’t give your castle justice. No one else could offer me this, I don’t think. No one I would know but you,” she smiled at him, shrugging, “And the nuns and I didn’t get on that well, actually.”

“Oh?” Vlad smirked, fully interested in this beautiful young girl without fear and obsessed with scientific advancement. Had there ever been such a woman? She giggled, walking towards the greenhouses and moving around them while peering inside the glass.

“No, they were a bit too stuffy and religious for my taste. Always going on about virtue and modesty. I cared more about science than anything to do with God, which upset them. I’m not a religious woman. I wanted to read instead of pray.”

“What a travesty,” Vlad mocked them with sarcasm, smirk still in place because he fully enjoyed her wit. 

..... read on: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24986407/chapters/60634126#workskin

[dirthavarens]

The Beginning (Dragatha)

Fandom: Dracula (2020) Characters: Count Dracula, Agatha Van Helsing Relationship: Dracula/Agatha Rating: Explicit Warnings: None Word Count: 8,298 Summary: She hadn’t seen him in fifty years, not since the ship exploded and left everything aboard scattered on the seafloor; a relic of a two person war. He was one of those relics, a deadly artifact she had sought out first and foremost upon her awakening;;

Agatha Van Helsing awakes at the bottom of the seafloor in a state of undead. As always, her curiosity leads her to more than she bargained for but no less than she can handle.

[READ ON AO3] {pt2} {pt3}

or read below:::

She hadn’t seen him in fifty years, not since the ship exploded and left everything aboard scattered on the seafloor; a relic of a two person war. He was one of those relics, a deadly artifact she had sought out first and foremost upon her awakening;;

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Much like Jonathan Harker, Agatha Van Helsing had been swept into the churning waters below her, sinking into the frigid sea around her. Her last breaths had been painful lungfuls of briny water and assumed it would kill her faster than if she had fought against it. She had awoken very nearly after, her body writhing on the seafloor as she snapped back to reality in an instant. It didn’t take her long to figure out what had happened to her. 

Sister Agatha Van Helsing was stripped of mortality and entered a betwixt state of semi-existence. All she had to do was feed and she would become what she had set out to destroy. Curiosity ravaged her mind as she breathed the water from her lungs, letting them compress to nothing. She observed the sensation before she walked along the seafloor as she would a sidewalk.

Hunger was in the back of her mind and she wondered if a fish would suffice or if she would have to ingest human blood. Could she even catch a fish? Where was Dracula? Surely if she survived he had as well. 

Questions piled in her brain, one lapping over the other, as she searched the floor for something. It was difficult to see through the debris and waves, but once she found her bearings and settled her mind, Agatha was able to focus on the task at hand. Surely if Dracula was able to track down Harker with such efficiency, she would be able to feel his pull on her as his… 

‘Victim,’ she scrutinized her own thoughts, her brow scrunching together reflexively. The word didn’t sit well with her, for she did not see herself as a victim. Rather, she was a byproduct of  her own hubris and his repulsive instinctive nature.

Agatha felt her ears perk and she turned her head towards what had unexpectedly caught her body’s attention. It was a fleeting feeling, but it was enough to motivate her pace. She followed the sensation and found what she had been looking for. 

His box of dirt. 

She wanted to reach out, to know that he was in fact in there, but she knew better. The compulsion was stronger than any natural urge she had felt as a human. It was hard to resist the need to see him, to give herself one more chance to end his life. Yet, she refrained. 

She needed time to gain strength and insight. And now she had all the time that God could offer her. Or rather, that Dracula offered her, she guessed. He was no god, he was hardly a man, yet she could not stop thinking of him, of how he looked in his crate, if the water had seeped into the soil. Harker’s “account” of his stay at Castle Dracula was starting to make intimate sense to her as she forced herself away from the crate. 

Agatha shifted her gaze to the seafloor, looking for any sign of an incline, and upon finding it, followed it until she could feel the ripple of waves above her. She emerged from the water as if walking up stairs and noticed it was nearing morning, the dew settling on the vegetation in the distance. A little early to be conducting experiments, in her mind, but she would conquer all of them with time. 

On the breeze, she caught the scent of food, of civilization, of… whatever possessing nectar flooded her senses. It was closer than the other scents and she scoured the beach to find what it was. Weeks prior she claimed to not see the appeal of blood, but this new smell, this input, drove her to near infuriating madness. 

Then she saw the body. And she ran to it, her desire to help overriding her desire to feed. As she came upon the man, she realized the severity of his injuries. He appeared to be a watchman of sorts based on his attire, but that struck her as an unimportant detail in comparison to the way his femur protruded from his leg and the abnormal twist of his neck. It was clear he had fallen from the cliff and would not last much longer. She could hear his pulse as it slowed and watched as the liquid spilled from his wounds like a fountain. Never before had blood been so inviting or so black in the moon’s light. 

“P-please…end my pain…Ma’am, I beg of you,” lamented the man when he saw her approaching. She knelt beside him, recited prayers in Latin as she brought her hand to rest on his forehead. “You’re a Catholic?”

“A nun. Or I suppose I used to be,” she explained upon finishing her prayers. “I’m sorry cannot save you.”

The man’s expression grew cross, simultaneously frustrated and faded as his life continued to leave him. “I don’t want to be saved, I want mercy. I can’t suffer like this. Please, Sister. Whoever you are, do this for me.” 

The urgency in his voice, it reminded her of the screams at the convent. Pleading, desperate, final. However, the blood pouring from him muffled the shrill cries of the month’s past. Agatha leaned down to an intimately close level and felt her body change, felt the hunger build in her. She could see the reflection of a beast in his dying eyes. 

“Are you an angel of death? Is that why you came to me?” The man interjected, fear lost to his voice, resigned to his fate. 

“Perhaps fate has a hand in all things. Please do not fret now. I can take the pain away until you are sleeping.” She felt wrong. Everything felt wrong as she lowered her mouth to his. Her first kiss in years and it was with a stranger she was about to murder.

‘A mercy killing is not murder. It’s hardly killing at all,’ rang a damnably condescending voice in her mind that sent a delicious chill down her spine. She had not anticipated the reaction to hearing him speak. The man before her groaned and she turned to his neck, focusing on what little life he had left. His pulse was almost gone now, his heart struggling to function. ‘Drink, Agatha. You know you want to, and look at him. That’s very much how the second mate looked right before I devoured him. No chance of recovery, might as well enjoy yourself while you can. He certainly will if you can control him. Though, I’ve never seen a fledgling do it before.’

She felt her stomach twist painfully as she pieced together what was happening within her mind. Dracula was in her head, speaking to her through some sort of mental connection. He was with her even as he sat in the bottom of the sea, pestering her as a man continued to suffer before her. 

Fate toyed with her or perhaps God tested her, but Agatha had a decision to make. She could allow the man to suffer, to die naturally as humans are supposed to when accidents happened. Or she could claim his life and become the slouching monstrosity she found so horrific and fascinating. 

‘Hardly a choice, you know. This is what you’ve always wanted, Agatha. To study the beast you must become one. Morality and God have no place in survival or in science. He is your sustenance and your ticket to a life of increasing, limitless knowledge.’

She ignored him as she sank her teeth into the man’s jugular, focusing entirely on finding his thoughts, his dreams, his aspirations. Agatha wanted to know the man from whom she drank. Information could bring him comfort and she saw a flash of a memory.

Shepherd’s Pie, warm and inviting, a woman behind it. The eyes she looked out were those of a child… His mother? 

‘Will you ever fail to impress me?’

The memory was a place to start and she tried to make a connection with him, but the taste of his blood kept interfering as she drank him deeper. Her teeth locked into place as her jaw clamped down, securing the artery in her hold. She felt like she had broken a fast, indulging on pastries and delicacies she did not have names for. Only when another memory, much different from the first, played through her mind did she realize what was happening. Her eyes grew wide and she loosened her grip, pulling away enough to encourage his peaceful departure. His mother was waiting for him, or at least he hoped she was. 

“You must cling to love as you fall from this world, to courage and to strength. Do not fear death, James. There is nothing to fear in happy reunions,” she whispered tenderly in his ear as his lungs slowed in his chest. The hot prickling at her eyes brought forth tears as she returned to his neck, devouring the last shred of life from his body. She pulled away, tears hot at her cheeks as she looked down at the lifeless corpse, drained to a ghastly white.

The blood that remained at her lips took a sour smell and she used her sleeve to rid herself of the scent. She felt stronger than ever within a matter of moments and was able to rationalize a man’s death to herself. He was going to die and she hastened his departure to spare his suffering. 

‘One should always speed the parting guest. You remembered,’ his proud and most unwelcome words trespassed onto her thoughts once more. She could nearly see him behind her eyelids when she closed them. ‘This is the last night you’ll have my company for a long while, Agatha. Be sure to survive until I wake.’

“What’s to keep me from going into the water and staking you my first chance? I could do it now, all I would need is a piece of driftwood,” she called toward the open water as she stood from the body of James the Night Watchman. He was startled by the explosion out at sea and fell from the cliff to the rocks below. The poor man had been twisted among the rocks for nearly two hours before Agatha came along. 

His death was not enough to distract her from the shift in her speech. She had absorbed his native tongue very much the same way as Dracula had learned it from Jonathan Harker. Wonder sparked in her eyes and she understood her initial hypothesis to be true. Stories, memories, secrets, lives, were all in the blood. That is what Dracula had meant by blood is lives. 

‘Your curious spirit. Your intelligence, your hunger for information, your desire to know every dark corner of this world. Need I remind you, you bargained your life to me in order to save that shrilling child. You’re a part of me now.’ His breathy chuckle echoed between her ears as she lifted the deceased man from the rocks and walked him into the water. She could feel her abdomen clench at the sound of his voice. It was a despicable response and she shoved the thought down as she swam out far enough for the tide to take the corpse away from shore. Her easy strength and energy came from the exsanguinated body that drifted away from her arms. 

‘See? One must keep a tidy slaughterhouse. The fastest pupil I’ve ever had, and to think all your learning is going to be turned against me. You’ve been given a gift, Agatha. If anything you shouldn’t be planning to kill me. No, my dear Sister, I think you should explore the range of your capabilities.’

“You are narcissistic even in your obscenity. If you are so confident, then perhaps you should step from your box and meet me on shore in little over an hour.” Agatha sounded like she was talking to herself as she began to make her way back to shore, unaware of what lurked in the water as she swam. “I have a theory I want to t--”

She gasped as she felt a firm grip at her ankle and her body was suddenly jerked underwater. Agatha’s first instinct was to fight against him, knowing full-well that it was Count Dracula who had his grips on her ankle, on her hips, on her waist. In the disturbed water, she let out a snarl, entirely vampiric in nature and lost in the liquid around them. He smiled at her through the water and she kicked at his shin, but he dodged her easily in a smooth movement.

‘I’m sure you do,’ he purred in her mind and his tone suddenly changed as he was able to look at her. ‘I have a different idea. Mind, you are allowed to say no.’

‘Good. Then I don’t have to say it. Let me go. Return to your box, Count. This is the last night I’ll have your company, yes? I’d rather begin seeing as little of you as possible. Thanks,’ she retorted defiantly and shook one arm loose then the other. Agatha returned to the surface with the Count emerging right after. 

“Oh for Heaven’s sake. Has no one ever told you no? Is your ego truly that fragile?” She rolled her eyes but remained for a moment longer. “Speak to me on shore if you wish, I don’t want to be waterlogged by the time the next living person sees me.”

How easily she accepted her undeath. Merely rationalization and she was going to make the best of the situation.

“Under one condition.” 

“And what would that be?” She was almost afraid to ask. Entertaining him was an easy way to get information from him. If she could twist whatever his terms were to her benefit, then perhaps she would indulge him further. 

“I don’t want to just talk when we get there.”

She blinked incredulously at him. The implications alone were laughable and she couldn’t help the breath of disbelief she expelled from her nostrils. At first, she thought he was trying to throw her off-balance. 

Upon further inspection, however, it was clear to her what he wanted. 

“Did the explosion scramble your brains, Count? Why would you think I’d want to lay with you after you slaughtered the Sisters and so many innocents while you fed off me for weeks?” Her words were scathing as she started to swim back to shore, not caring if he followed or not. 

“Because, you’d be lying to both of us if you said you didn’t and lying is beneath you, Agatha,” he stated plainly as he kept pace beside her, his black hair silk in what was left of the moonlight. “And because I’ve been in your head. I know your dreams, I know your desires. As we played chess, I could smell it on you.”

Her cheeks flushed as the compartmentalized memory came back to the forefront of her mind. How could he discern personal and professional fascination? A beast is only aware he’s getting attention; he doesn’t care what kind. He was no better, but he was right.

“I’m a nun, not a saint.” 

“A vampire, not a nun,” he corrected as they stepped out of the water. “You’re not constrained to all those silly little rules anymore. You can live as you like, do as you like, experiment as you like. Now, let me speak my piece while I play by your rules for a moment.”

She crossed her arms over her chest as the wind blew through her tangled, wet mess of hair. He was right in saying she was no longer a nun. In truth, Agatha hadn’t felt like a nun in a very long time. Still, that did not mean she was going to simply give her body to the man who just hours earlier had tried to kill her. Even if he was dripping wet in front of her, his hair mussed, and clearly exhausted. And admittedly, very handsome. “I’m waiting.”

“I don’t know how long I’m going to be asleep. You did a number on me, even if you can’t tell, and I need time to recuperate. I’ll need to be back in my box before the sun rises. By your count, that’s in an hour.”

“So that’s why you want to bed me? Because I injured you?”

Dracula shook his head and laughed before stepping closer to her, his chest heaving from exertion. She examined him closer and noticed odd protrusions from under his shirt. “No, Agatha. I want you because the next time I see you, it will be too long to have waited. It might actually kill me in my sleep if I’m not the first to have you as you are now. It is my handiwork, after all.” 

Broken ribs. 

“Good, it will save me the trouble,” she snorted indignantly, raising a brow at him. Agatha made note of the way his gaze kept wandering from her eyes to her lips. She did her best to ignore the stir in the pit of her stomach. “You have my life, Count. Which, if I’m careful, will continue long enough to kill you.” 

Something in him changed then, his smile disappearing as his eyes grew dark. A new strategy perhaps?

“Why wait?  Kill me, if you truly want me dead now. Here,” he pressed, voice low, as he slipped his suspenders from his shoulders and pulled his shirt over his head. The fabric fell to the gravel beneath him and he took another step towards her. His eyes were on hers, demanding, testing. When he spoke, his voice was low and thick. “Go find your piece of driftwood, pierce my heart, and watch as we both crumble to dust.”

She swallowed the thick feeling in her throat as she trained her gaze on his, unflinching as the wind picked up around them. He was too close and she was still feeling the power from her first feed. An effective tactic indeed. 

She could not step back lest she show weakness, so she squared her shoulders and raised her head. There were many things Agatha still wanted to do, alive or undead. Now, she had a better and more willing test subject: herself.

“Not until I know the reason behind your fears, Count Dracula.” She had to steady herself  when she spoke. Any closer and she feared she would fall into his natural gravity. Even at the short distance she was away, her head swam, but she had to keep herself in check. 

“Excuses are unnecessary,” he imparted and closed the space between them. She gave a breath of protest against his mouth, her hands coming to his chest. When it came time to push him away, she couldn’t. Instead, Agatha moved her hands to nestle in his hair and hold steady at his neck, bringing him closer to her.

He flicked his tongue at her lip, noticing that it had already healed over nicely from when she ripped a chunk out of it when she was mortal. She opened her mouth in response, drinking in the taste of him as he sampled her. His breath still carried the flavors of Sokolov and even in her repulsion, she found herself giving into him. The captain had been a good man, undeserving of the fate bestowed upon him, but Dracula made her forget about him, about everything, simply by kissing her, no opiate involved. 

The hand at the back of his neck held him steady in her hold as the other moved against his chest. There should have been a heartbeat under her fingertips. There should have been warmth in the fervent ministrations of their mouths, there should have been many things...but Agatha still sank into him. She wanted more and she damned herself for it. Her natural curiosity and blood-high crashed over her at once as her would-be murderer put a hand at the small of her back and drew her closer.

“That’s better,” he hummed as he broke the kiss, a glib smirk dancing at his lips. Agatha pulled back from him, her hands returning to her sides as she put space between them. Her innards tumbled wretchedly within her, caught between pleasure and disgust. 

“Deplorable,” she interjected, mostly at herself. Never had she planned on breaking so many vows in one night, but Dracula stood shirtless, bruised, and battered before her. And he wanted her, more than anything she had seen. More than her blood, more than standing upon English soil, more than each and every nun and crew member he had torn apart. She could feel his natural allure pulling at her, coaxing her to him like a beacon in the dead of night.

“So what say you? Your body’s response is clear, certainly. But what does that rigid logic say, mm? Does it tell you no? To run? To escape me?” He knew better than to think that her mind would ever tell her to run. Her fear of him was no more than justified caution. Dracula returned his hands to her as he closed the gap. “Or is it silent now? All those silly little reservations you’ve had for weeks… You can’t tell me you haven’t been curious, even for a nun of your standing.” 

“A vampire, now, remember?” She forced a steady breath and worked her jaw, ignoring the stir in her core when he spoke. “Thanks to you.”

“Ah, as much as I would love to take full credit for corrupting you, I’m afraid you drained that man of your own volition,” he pointed out, dark eyes trained on her. In them, she could see more than she ever could before. His pride, his yearning, his pain. “Agatha Van Helsing, the first Queen of vampires. A merciful murderess, an angel of death.”

“Hardly,” she insisted, steadying herself to the point of shedding herself of her humanities as his thumbs massaged her clothed skin. Her chest stilled and her eyes were unblinking as he moved a hand to her chin, drawing her face closer. 

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Her eyes flitted beyond him to the deep grey casting upon the horizon, the water turning a strange obsidian, before refocusing on him. She could not deny that she wanted to feel him inside of her or that she hadn’t thought of how or if a vampire could in fact have sex to completion. Beyond her curiosity, need burned within her as though she carried Hell itself inside of her. “Count Dr--”

The look in her eyes must have been enough to give him permission. His mouth crashed upon hers in a punishing kiss and she parted her lips for him, his name lost as a groan against him. Dracula’s fingers trailed down her habit, bunching it in his hold until she could feel the wind against her thighs. He withdrew from her lips and watched as he pulled the fabric up, revealing her skin to him. It occurred to her then that he had not taken advantage of his position when she was unconscious aboard the ship. 

‘Ah, you think so lowly of me as to take to rape?’ he inquired within her mind, clearly injured by her silent implication.

‘You did with Harker, did you not? And your brides? The second mate, even,’ she returned as she stepped out of his hold. Even as a monster, she would not bed a rapist. Harker had not given a solid answer, but it was to be assumed. 

“Is that what he told you?” Dracula pulled back for a moment and laughed with disbelief. “The kiss of the vampire is an opiate, Agatha. I made them dream, but I did not dishonor them. Why would I need to play with my food in such a way? It would spoil the flavor. As for my brides, I won’t sleep with an unwilling participant.”

He was on her again, his kiss much gentler as his fingers threaded through her knotted and soaked hair. Agatha found truth in his words, knowing too well that his narcissism would not take kindly to such an act and eased into the kiss. His lead was easy to follow and they moved as a single unit closer inland. The gravelly sand underfoot should have hurt more than it did, but the sensation only stimulated her more as his hands returned to her habit.

“Stay out of my head,” she breathed between his lips and he drank in the words with delight. A smile twitched at the edges of his mouth. 

“No promises,” he murmured in return, drawing the habit up her torso. “Now, be a lamb and lift your arms so I can take you properly. We haven’t much time to waste.”

She shot him a glare but obeyed, lifting her arms and exposing herself before Dracula. The moment that followed had been spent in deliberation. She wanted to cover herself but the way he was looking at her with obvious depraved sin made her smirk and shake her head. “Even now you act as a beast.”

“Don’t feed me that line, Agatha. Not when you’re standing so beautifully exposed for me,” he cautioned before dipping his head and hand to her breast. Her nipple perked under the exploratory flick of his tongue and she drew in a quick breath. He brought his head up, leaving his fingers to idly play at her raised flesh. “How long has it been for you? Not by your own hand, but from another. I know you weren’t pure when you took your vows. How long?”

“Twenty-five years. I was seventeen and unwed. Why does that interest you?” Agatha hooked her index finger into his slacks and guided his hips closer so she could work at his belt. “Did you think I would say sooner?” 

“I was asleep for a week, I wasn’t sure if the dear captain had tried and succeeded. The way he looked at you, obeyed you like he was your slave. I should have bled him worse than I had.” 

The quiet snarl in his throat grew nearly imperceptible as he took possession of her mouth, claiming her with every impertinent motion. Below, his fingers rested on hers, guiding her in the undoing of his belt, the button of his slacks, and then released her as she worked at his zipper. He took her face in one hand while he stepped out of his slacks in an easy motion. Agatha wanted to protest, to defend the captain, but he had her in a hold from which there was no exit. 

She heard his shoes clatter against the rocks behind them as he left her mouth sore and panting for breath. She realized then that it was a human habit that would be lost to her in the coming years. Still, she could not pass the opportunity to probe him, provoke him, draw out the beast until it roared in her face. 

“Jealous of a man who can do as he’s told?”

Dracula’s nostril twitched impatiently, but he did not reply. The sky around them turned a dark grey as clouds rolled in from the sea. Perhaps, they would have more than the time the Earth granted them. 

“Well?”

“I could never be jealous of such a man. Too weak to act on desire, too soft to take risks. Hardly a captain if you ask me. Martyrs are a pestilence upon this Earth. So eager to die without truly knowing how it feels to live.” 

“Then why want to bleed him?” Her insistence earned her a hand on her hip that spun her in his hold and pulled her flush against him. She could feel his cock throbbing against her rear as he reflexively swayed his hips forward. The hand at her hip crept towards her center while the other took her throat. 

He entreated a hum of unbridled delight in her ear as he dipped his finger between her folds and found himself instantly coated. “Because he wanted you. He wanted to have you, Agatha. How could I let another man have the life promised to me? By your own words, I have you.”  

She shuddered against him as the heat within her unfurled and spilled into her abdomen. He prodded experimentally against her entrance, earning a frustrated groan from the woman in his arms. “You seek to own me, then?” 

“I could and will spend an eternity trying. For now, I will take you as I know I can have you,” he purred shamelessly as he ran the pad of his finger against her clit, wetting it with her own juices. He released her neck, cupped her left breast, and kissed the side of her head. His other hand was preoccupied circling her nub. Agatha arched her back against him as a trembling whimper spilled from her lips. “Do you think you would be this ready for me if you weren’t undead?” 

He should know the answer by now. Her body had been willing from the start, her mind took a moment to catch up. Dracula had her where he wanted her, but was taking his time. Why? As he said earlier, they hadn’t much time to waste. Why was he dawdling now? 

She turned once again in his hold and took his cock in her hand, gently rubbing his cockhead with her thumb. “Temptation is nothing more than curiosity. I follow peculiarities which interest me and you happen to be one of them. But I’m learning you quicker than I thought. Now, cease this tedious small talk.” 

He palmed her ass with both hands then clamped down on the flesh in his hold. The shock of pain rocked through her and she tightened her grip on him, his shaft pulsating in her grasp. She released his cock and held to the back of his neck, a silent command. Dracula lifted her into the air and she instinctively wrapped her legs around him, staring him down as he beamed up at her. 

“And I thought I’d have you in a proper bed,” he chuckled as he walked them up the hill and lowered her down in the first patch of dew covered grass he could find. The cold beneath her came as shock and she arched her back, nipples rubbing against his torso. “But I suppose there is always next time.”

He shifted down in the grass and spread her legs wider, separating her folds with two fingers and marveling at the glistening wetness that awaited him. “I always loved a lively one, but a wicked one… So willing and so open for me. Agatha, you’re amazing.” 

“Spare me your self-praise, Count,” she shot as her eyes darkened and her cheeks burned. Like a thief caught in the act, Agatha could not deny how his words melted her and sent a wave of heat crashing over her. She squirmed under him and dug her heels into his flanks. “Why are you stalling?” 

A rumble above them pulled her attention away from him. Her gaze moved to the sky and noticed the way the clouds churned above them. There was a storm on the horizon. He would be safe in its darkness until he had his way with her and she knew it. Almost too convenient. 

Her gaze snapped back to him and glared up at him with her accusation clear on her expression.

“I swear this wasn’t me,” he admitted with a grin, flashing his teeth to her as he sat back and turned his head toward the sky. She studied how the muscles in his neck stretched, the way his lips parted as he looked up, and found herself wandering into dangerous territory. 

“How fate favors the bold.” His words brought her back to reality, away from forbidden thoughts, and more importantly, back to him. She shivered and dropped her head against the ground as he pushed a finger into her and curled it, instantly finding her sweet spot. Agatha’s mouth teetered between open and shut as a hitched breath slipped into the late night air. 

He withdrew from her delicious heat and plunged back in, another finger added. She wanted to curse him for watching her pant beneath him without giving her more, undoing her with nothing more than his hand. Twenty-five years without sex had left her starved for contact, a hunger long forgotten until he stood before her, naked and unabashed at the convent. 

“I’m surprised you’re responding so well to my hand alone. Did you not take care of yourself in the nunnery, Agatha?” The count shifted so he was looming over her, face close as he thrust and twisted his fingers. He curled the digits inside of her over and over, lapping at that one spot that was causing her to shake uncontrollably. “Shall I make you come for me? Do you want me to give you your release?”

He had her lost and rocking against him, her walls clenching around his unrelenting fingers. Agatha forced her head up, bruising his lips in a kiss that was more of a bite. A chance to cling to reality. 

“Darling, your teeth are rather sharp now. Be mindful not to rip my lip off,” he laughed quietly against her mouth, kissing her back and pried his way into her mouth. She felt the slick of his tongue against her own as though every nerve was on high alert. His fingers stilled inside of her. “Answer me. Do you want to come?” 

“Bastard,” she whined and dropped her head against the grass. Her chest heaved as she glared up at him. He removed a digit from her and raised his brow. God, he was going to torment her. Dracula was going to make her beg for her release. She swallowed what shred of her decency remained and closed her eyes. “Please.”

Another crack of thunder.

“I’m sorry? What was that? You’re going to have to speak up. I’m afraid the weather is a bit tumultuous in these parts.” His amusement was palpable as he curled the lone finger inside of her. She was caught between a groan and a growl as she began to tighten around him again. 

Another stroke, then another, then another, each slower, deeper, more deliberate. He played with her, giving her just enough stimulation to want more, but not enough to grant her satisfaction. “I’m waiting.” 

She could have punched him--should have punched him. He was self-righteous in every sense, but the way his simper played as his lips as his second middle finger rejoined his index inside of her threw those--and all--thoughts to the wayside. His slow, scorching kiss was an added bonus.

“La petite mort,” she whispered hoarsely against his lips before capturing them again. The kiss was fast and hard as Dracula drew his head back and smiled down at her.

“The only you’ll ever have.” A promise.

The rain began to fall around them as he trailed down her body, his fingers working idly inside of her. She arched her back in whatever direction his lips went. Down her sternum, to her breasts, pecked every rib with care, he traveled down to her core.

“I wonder how you taste.” His breath was hot against her before reaching his tongue out to graze against her nub. Once, twice, three times over before he looked up at her. “Exquisite.” 

She pushed herself up to watch as he worked her over. The sight of him fucking her with his mouth and hand enough make her cry out; the sensation enough to make it lost in thick, incomprehensible Dutch. When he brought his eyes to hers, Agatha’s abdomen clenched. He looked near feral with lust but focused entirely on her pleasure. She could not deny the ravenous beauty between her thighs. 

 Her hips bucked against his mouth, but he held her down with his free hand, pinning her in place as he drank her in. Agatha felt her walls constricting around him, her mind going numb as her world crashed beautifully around her. Dracula removed his fingers from her body and moved to swipe away every last decadent drop of her release with his tongue. 

“Brute,” she panted when he finally separated his mouth from her, licking his lips to clean up the remainder of her orgasm. 

“I’ve been called worse,” he returned as he trailed kisses back up her body. 

“Mm,” was all she managed to get out before he kissed her with a muted fervor. If she hadn’t known better, Agatha would almost mistake it for tenderness. 

“Now.” He glanced between them, observing every part of her, as though memorizing her features. Another rumble of thunder sounded as lightning veined through the sky. Through the shadows the brief instant of light caused, Agatha could have sworn she saw something bittersweet in his expression. “Shall we begin?” 

Whatever she thought she saw…it was gone, replaced by a wolfish grin and eyes as dark as pits. She glanced down in time to watch Dracula align his cock at her entrance. Her nerves buzzed endlessly as he rubbed his hardened length between her folds, coating himself in her juices. 

“Fute,” came his moan as his cockhead dipped inside of her. She had two options. Fute in French, meaning something that’s cute. Or her second choice, Fute in Romanian, meaning fuck. Agatha had many vices in life, gambling being one of them. The higher the stakes, the greater the reward. 

“You will mind your tongue while inside of me.”

“Oh, that’s right. You speak Romanian, don’t you?” His uttered inquiry was painted in obvious amusement. He clearly missed the other obvious truth to her statement. Like it or not, she was what Dracula would call his bride. All languages were the same.

“There is a certain level of study and exploration that requires the knowledge of many languages,” she explained as he stilled his head inside of her. There was genuine interest in his eyes, but he pushed deeper into her with a slow thrust of his hips. A groan escaped her and echoed against the rocks as he filled her, his cock pulsing against her tight walls. Her arms wrapped tightly around his back, nails hooking into his skin, as he pushed a bit further, hitting her limit as he bottomed out.

She cried out his name into the last of the fading night as he pulled his hips back slowly, nearly exiting her entirely, before thrusting back into her. The storm raged around them, but they ignored it entirely. Agatha could only focus on the way his cock felt buried inside of her and the small grunts and moans he made with each movement. 

“I misspoke earlier when I called you wicked,” he uttered, his breath hitching as her nails split open the skin upon his back. “Wicked is fun. Lively is dangerous. Feral is useless. But you, Agatha…” 

Her name was a groan on his lips as he shifted to meet her gaze. Dracula withdrew from her completely, paused for a moment to take in the sight of her, and thrust mercilessly back into her. His pace felt like a prayer and a punishment inside of her. “You are perfect.” 

Pressure built within her as he continued to angle himself perfectly, pushing deep inside of her to hit every possible spot he could. “Perfect.” 

Her lips met his halfway as he lost his rhythm, his ministrations erratic as he started to chase his high. With the rain crashing down around them, their bodies slid easily together, and Dracula did not have to wait long for his release. A stuttered moan tore through his throat as he buried himself deep within her and spilled inside of her once, another thrust, twice. He pushed inside of her one final time and Agatha lost herself to him. “Perfect.”

She clung to him as she came, one hand buried in his hair, the other clutching his shoulder as her legs wrapped around his waist, securing him tightly inside of her. A silent, shaking breath that turned into a cry of reverence. Hot tears pricked at the corners of her tightly closed eyes as her orgasm overtook her, her head dropping back. Her legs trembled as she slowly released her hold of him. Liquid beads rolled down her temples from sheer pleasure.

Dracula’s jaw slacked as he looked upon her, exhausted and appeased. He did that to her, to the nun who swore his death, and she had wanted every second of it. As a nun, no, as a human, she could not allow herself such sin; as a vampire, however, she knew herself to be damned and could sin without consequence to her mortal soul.

She gasped as he pulled out of her, her body still crackling with excitement. If her heart could beat it would be throbbing, her lungs would burn, and she doubted that her pelvis would still be in one piece. 

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, then to her cheek, and at last her lips before he fell to the earth next to her. The storm continued to rage around them and only when the thunder crashed in the sky did she notice that she was in Dracula’s hold. Her head was on the undamaged part of his chest, arm wrapped comfortably around him while he held her to him. 

“I need to give you something before I go,” announced the Count without preamble.

Agatha propped herself up to look at him and took note of the severity of his tone.

“The estate and some funds to return to Holland. You’re going to need to rest at some point. The less a vampire rests, the weaker they become, the stronger their impulses become. While you have extraordinary self-control, I don’t think you’ll last through the week without needing to feed again, especially with how low that poor fellow was.” 

Reality seeped back into the forefront of Agatha’s mind as he sat them both up. She was going to need to feed and who she fed on decided how she was to live her life. 

“I’ll try to stay awake for as long as I can to help you through the first few ni--”

“Why would you offer your help now?” she interjected, perplexed.

“Because I enjoy you, Agatha Van Helsing, more than I’ve enjoyed anyone in hundreds of years,” he started curtly. “You deserve a fighting chance if you really are set on staking me.”

“Let me guess, under the condition that I do not do so while you sleep?” 

Always an ultimatum. 

“Precisely.”

“Then I have a condition of my own.” 

“Name it.” He moved closer to her as he spoke, fingers moving strands of soaking hair behind her ear with a grin on his face. She hated him for the warmth that unfurled in her stomach at the touch. 

“If I figure out, with certainty, what it is you fear, I get to wake you early.” 

His smile grew as a breath of laughter left him. “Is that all?” 

She nodded her head as he moved in to take her lips. A kiss of excitement, of challenge. Another game for them to play. Another hunt. This time, he was the prey. She returned it with equal but opposite emotion. There was devastation in her kiss, a promise to him that she would be back before he would wake. 

“Agatha, while I’m certain of your ability of discovery, I don’t think our reunion will go as you are currently anticipating. Here,” he beckoned as he reached for the ring upon his finger. “Proof enough that you are a member of my house to get you into Carfax Abbey. From there, contact my law firm, the paperwork should be there. Johnny made sure of it before he traveled to Transylvania. You should be able to access some of my banking information, if not, you can always talk your way onto a ship, I’m sure.” 

Even when emerging from the wolf, Dracula had not taken the ring off. The significance of it was not lost to her as he set it in her palm. There was something about the situation that disturbed her. She should be refusing him. Killing him then and there, taking out him and any vampire he may have ever created. Hold him to the sunlight, something. 

But she only listened. Perhaps, she wanted the fair fight he was offering her. Or maybe he had a stronger influence over her than she thought. Or perhaps it was something else entirely that gave her pause. Regardless, as the Count continued to instruct her, she committed every word to memory. 

She followed him to the water after they were done talking. The gravel underfoot was much softer with the rainfall. As they reached nearer to the shore, he surrendered his clothes to her as hers were covered with blood and unfit to wear into town. She was going to have to claim her status as his wife, no doubt an amusing part of the plan for him.

“I’m going to miss you. Find somewhere safe, will you? I’d hate to find out you burned to dust on your first day.” He smirked at her, admiration aglow in his dark eyes as the sky lightened behind the clouds. 

“I’m sure you’ll manage. Goodbye, Count Dracula,” she stated and extended her hand. 

Dracula scoffed at her formality and took her hand in his. He turned it so her knuckles were bent and placed a kiss upon their ridges. Before she could have time to protest, he pulled her against him, his lips crashing down on hers. A low growl sounded deep in his chest as she met his kiss with matched passion. 

“Easy, boy.” She was going to miss him.

“One last thing,” he muttered as he pressed his forehead to hers. 

“You’re really playing with fire, aren’t you?” She was going to miss him.

“Not the first time,” chuckled Dracula as he raised his wrist to her. “Drink.”

“What? Why?” Agatha shot him a confused look.

He sliced at the flesh with his thumb, the blood running down his forearm within seconds. “Over four-hundred years of knowledge is why. You need to know things that I don’t have time to explain. Drink.”

She nodded, took his forearm in her hold, her fangs extending, and sank her teeth into him. Thousands of memories burst into color. Wars, trades, murders, usurpations, lovers, lives, deaths… Everything played out in her mind as she drank. Her world expanded tenfold and she moaned as he held her steady to him. 

She tightened her hold on him and pressed her weight into him until he fell back against the sand under him. Agatha broke from his arm as she felt emotion sweep over her that was not her own. She moved to straddle him, undoing the too long pants around her waist and kicked them off. 

The whites of her eyes darkened into crimson as she looked down at him, her hand reaching behind her and grabbing at his already half-hard shaft. She moved forward, glanced at his jugular, and descended upon the expanse.

“We don’t have time to--” His speech was lost as she sank her teeth into him. She released her hold of his erection and focused on the way his blood ran through his artery, but did not drink from him. “Agatha…”

Before she had time to act, Dracula sat up, his hand moving between them to guide him to her entrance once more. He sank into her without hesitation and began thrusting his hips with what all that he had left. Agatha cried out, involuntarily parting from his neck, and brought her lips to his. She held him in a breathless kiss as he moved into her, relentless and final, clinging to whatever she picked up in his blood. 

He came first, thrusting up into her and groaning something in Romanian as he filled her yet again. Dracula shifted to make her more comfortable, continued his pace, remaining hard as his thumb snaked between them to find her nub. Once found, he teased it out of time with the roll of his hips, sending her over the top. She curled against him as she came, fingers balling into fists against his shoulders. 

“How did it taste?” he asked as she lifted herself off of him. Agatha looked to the slacks beside her but decided to not put them on. Not while she was dripping from both of them. 

“Like blood,” she lied as she stood and headed for the water. She knew he wouldn’t settle for that answer. His ego wouldn’t allow him.

“I could find out for myself you know. One little listen to your thoughts and I can know the truth,” he reminded as he followed her. 

“Do as you must,” instructed Agatha unfazed by his threat, the water pooling around her waist. He turned his gaze to the sky and noticed the light growing, his nostrils twitching impatiently. She looked to her side and noticed him standing beside her, staring down at her. “Return to your box, Dracula, before we both turn to ash.” 

He took a few steps forward then paused. She watched as he turned in the water just enough for his eyes to meet hers. “Stay alive, Agatha. It would be an awfully boring future without you.”

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------