#dracula bbc fanfic

[nosferatvpussy]

distorted lullabies [chapter XXVI]

Word count: 7k

Warnings: the usual // +18

Pairing: Dracula x reader

AO3 link | masterlist

A/N: Hello, dears. Thank you for sticking with me, and also thank you for all the new readers leaving me the sweetest comments, you have definitely motivated me to finish this chapter.

I think we are possibly 5 chapters away to the ending? Let's see if can do one chapter a month. Better than 2 chapters a year T.T

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The thirst for blood left her pupils dilated. Deep, black pits that reflected Count Dracula’s own eyes. Tears sprang from her eyes but he cared little for them. Grin frozen on his lips, it was all he could not to laugh in satisfaction as Y/N leaned to the mirror and ran a forefinger on her own teeth.

“No. No, no, no. I’m human. I’m still human. I have a pulse.” She pressed two fingers to her neck, just below her jaw. “Don’t I? I c-can’t— can’t feel it.”

“Your heart is still beating, darling.” Loud and clear. A lovely rampant cadence to his ears. 

She shook her head, making more tears flow down her face, and turned around to face him once again. Careless, she wiped the saliva that glistened on her chin and clenched her jaw, which immediately elicited a sob from her. Her hands closed around his arms, nails scratching his blazer, as she pressed her face to his chest taking the deep breaths he told her to take.

“It’s getting worse,” she cried. He nodded, staring at his reflection over her head. He shushed her, ran his fingers down her hair, cradled her. The picture of comprehension as he anchored all her fear, but still he grinned. “Earlier today when I was taking a bath,” she swallowed and when she spoke again, her voice was a rasp through the new sharp teeth. “...I drank my own blood. Just a mouthful. I started bleeding when I went into the tub and couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to see if it would taste differently, like Johanna. It was just a little bit.”

Beneath the scent of fear clouding the air, the heady scent of her blood lingered, emanating from her stronger than ever as it seeped from the unhealed bites. 

“And did it taste like her?” He asked.

“It tasted–” she stopped, stiffening on his arms. “Tasted a bit like you. Sweet. It didn’t have the metallic taste of blood.” By her demeanour alone, he understood that she only now realised this. 

A chuckle escaped him, and she looked up at him, scowling.

“Y/N, this is more than I ever hoped for,” he said, still chuckling. She let go of him and he grabbed her face in his hands to make her stay. “You understand now that there is no reason to be afraid about what comes next, don’t you? You’re my perfect creation.”

“Did you know this was going to happen?”

“That these would grow?” He tapped a finger to her lip and he earned a slap on his hand. “No. This is new.”

“But how? You told me that in order to become a vampire you will need to–”

“Kill you, yes, but you are not yet a vampire, despite what may indicate.” He chuckled again. It wasn’t only that she was his image now, but that he knew for certain now that she was his forever. There was no doubt that she would survive this change, whether he gave her what she longed for or not. “Y/N, Y/N,” he repeated, delighting himself in hearing her name and knowing that he would say it for the next hundreds of years and those same eyes, intelligent and willful, would look at him. “Oh, you are perfect.” He lowered his lips to hers. She stood stock still as his tongue pushed against hers and wrapped around the sharp canine in her mouth.

“I don’t understand— how? Do I have these because I drank my own blood?” She asked, pulling away from him, and leaving the bathroom. He followed her in calm strides as she paced in light footfalls across his bedroom.

“Darling,” he sighed, and crossed his arms as he leaned on the door frame. “It’s easy to ignore everything. You’re clever, but you refuse to acknowledge all signs of change.”

She stopped pacing, stiff, and looked at him from behind her hair. “Signs of change?”

“Everytime I drink your blood I can tell that you feel it,” he said, staring back at her, waiting for some form of recognition. He threw his arms up. “Food doesn’t taste the same, and it’s been getting worse for the last few weeks. Your hearing is better, or do you think listening to Diana enter your house from two stories up is usual? Your phone ringing annoys you and hearing conversations metres away from you is completely normal, I imagine.” He chuckled as he finished listing all that he could remember as fast as he mind supplied it. Leaving his spot by the doorframe, Dracula stepped towards her. “Last night, I felt your hunger for Johanna as I drank your blood. You smelled her as well as I did, and you craved her.”

Her stare unfocused as he spoke.

“It’s your blood,” she murmured. “It did this to me.”

“Of course it’s my blood, Y/N.” He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her again, waiting for her to relent. She always did. “I fed you with it. I gave you what makes me myself because you begged me for it. Whenever you asked me, I gave it to you.” She sighed and lowered her head. “Do you remember that you begged me to try loving you? Or are you going to conveniently forget that now because you are discontent with what it brought you?”

“My memory is good enough,” she answered, then turned her cheek, putting her mouth away from his. “You saw it happen and you never told me.”

“You saw for yourself.”

“At the risk of biting Mallory!” She exclaimed, and covered her ears with her hands. “I wanted to. I thought about it.” Blinking tears away, she clenched her jaw, and whined.

“Don’t do that, it will hurt worse.”

“I couldn’t look at her,” she continued as if he hadn’t said a word. “I kept thinking how easily I could tear into her skin, like ripping paper.” Her shoulders drooped as her body swayed closer to his. “Will it always be like this?” 

“After centuries of experimenting, everything with you has been—”

“I’m not one of your fucking experiments!” She yelled, pushing at him. When he didn’t release his grasp, she delivered a blow that would have hit his face if he hadn’t dodged. “Let me go. I won’t stay near you a minute longer.” For a second, he was captivated by the sight of fangs glimpsing through her lips and didn’t take in her words, but then he let go.

“Leave, then,” he said, gesturing with his arm for the door. She glanced at it, frowning. He smiled. “Leave. Open that door, go down the steps if you want to. I have no problem with prying you away from someone’s neck.” 

“Take me home.”

“No.”

“Then you fucking leave!” She shouted, glaring at him. He didn’t move. Y/N stepped forward and pushed at his chest. Again, he didn’t move, nor did he budge. “Leave me here while you entertain guests and act the gentleman. Do it. I’ll stay like one of your fucking experiments! That’s what I fucking am to you.” She pushed, and pushed. He remained still, like a statue. “I hate you,” she declared. Behind her eyes, filled with tears and framed in a scowl, he saw her rage and her fear. In his ears, her heartbeat sang a hesitant melody. 

“No, you don’t,” he said. 

“I do.” She shook him by the lapels of his coat. “Right now, I do.” 

“You love me.” His hand found the nape of her neck and tilted her head up. 

“Fuck you,” she murmured, without any of her usual defiance. A halfhearted insult.

“Insolent.” 

He leaned down, crushing her lips to his, and for the first time, her teeth cut him. Low on his chest, he laughed as Y/N’s mouth became urgent and sliced his bottom lip again. He couldn’t remember something other than his own teeth piercing his skin, which had become nearly impenetrable over the years. 

When she pushed him again, her lips never leaving his, it was to steer him towards the bed. Dracula gave in to her whims to amuse himself, so he perched on the edge of the bed, with the full expectation that Y/N would realise what was happening and stop, but she climbed on top of him in a constricting embrace that could’ve squeezed air out of his lungs. Thirst made her demanding, and not a particle of her self control remained as it consumed her. Yet, it was not something that weighed especially on Dracula’s mind as her mouth veered to his neck. The brushes of lips, sloppy and wet with saliva, as teeth scraped below his ear completely stole any sense of responsibility to remind her about self control. 

His hands followed the curves of her legs to each side of him, fingers pressing to feel the delicious softness of her thighs. Almost as if teasing him, her hips brushed his as she moved on his lap. The scent of blood wafted off her, all honey to his senses. Her hair stroked his face as arms went about him. He pulled her closer until not an inch of air separated them. 

Y/N bit hard, and when the tougher skin on his neck didn’t break as easily as the skin of his lips, she bit even harder. Cold pinpricks slid from his neck to his spine, quickening to pleasure as her teeth sank deeper. Dracula pressed their bodies together and tried not to squeeze her, lest he break her.  In her need, she tried to lick the little blood that poured out while her teeth scraped shallow cuts. He groaned, shuddering as he tried to regain control.

Fingernails grazed his scalp as she took hold of his hair and pulled his head to the side. The raw desperation sent her heart hammering. It beat against his own rib cage. Finally, she let go of it all and gave into blind desire, as he always wished since he observed the beginnings of change. He wanted to taste her too, but mostly he needed to feel what she felt as she tried to consume him. Feeling her draw his blood out, thoughtlessly. He needed to know if beyond it all there was still her love, lying there in secrecy and reserved for everything that he was.

A rumbling growl sounded from the depths of his chest. His gums stung lightly as his teeth sharpened. As Y/N tried to bite him again to make more blood flow, Dracula shut his eyes. If he were to drink her now, it would only increase her hunger. The other — more likely — possibility was that he would lose himself along with her and kill her. He had made her a promise. He wouldn’t break it. 

Her hips came down his, and Dracula smiled. So often the thirst for blood blended into another kind of need. With her, they were one and the same. It was easy enough to redirect his blood lust. 

Quickly, Dracula grabbed both her hands, twisted them behind her back, and shoved her face first on the bed as he climbed on top of her. 

“No!” She protested, struggling madly to try and escape his grip. “I need more. Please. More!”

Holding both her wrists in one hand, he pushed her dress up with the other one. A black garter belt paired with stockings and sheer underwear met his gaze. Y/N’s struggle lessened to a disheartened wriggle as he made this discovery. He preferred her without any underwear, but lingerie like this was a strong contender to change his mind. The straps pressed down on each cheek and he trailed them with his fingers, then pulled them, causing them to snap against her skin and eliciting a yelp. That seemed to trigger something in her because she twisted her wrists inside his grip and pulled free — for a moment. Dracula captured her hands again and brought them behind her back as he pressed her down on the bed. 

“The more you struggle, the more I’m going to take my time with you.”

“Please,” she sobbed. “I need more blood. That wasn’t enough.”

“You bit me in the wrong place, dear,” he explained. He caressed the thin red welts the straps had left in her butt cheeks. “It’s easy to miss the jugular at first. Takes practice.” His hand closed on her ass, spreading her open before him. “Some veins are easier to find, for example, there’s one right here in the inner thigh —” he slipped his hand lower to trace the spot and Y/N raised her butt higher as his knuckles brushed the ever growing wetness of her underwear “ — that I particularly like.” 

“Show me where to bite and I will, just– please,” she panted. “Let me. Plea– oh!” A slap landed on her ass. 

“Beg all you want.” He chuckled, and slapped her again. Y/N squealed and kicked her feet. His hand stung from the slap. “I’m used to hearing it. Nothing you say will make me take pity on you.” Another slap brought a blush to her buttcheek. Y/N kicked her feet again as pain coursed her body. She had her face turned to the side as she glared at him out of the corner of her eye. His hand came down once again. Her body jumped involuntarily but he saw her biting her lip not to scream. “Aren’t you brave?” he taunted. “Shall I match the other side, then?”

Eyes shut, she nodded. He smiled as he backed up a little to grant better access to the task at hand. As he sat on her legs, his cock strained inside his trousers, pressing just between her thighs.

Dracula switched his grip on her wrists before continuing. With each spank her ass jiggled and grew redder, each a little harder than the one before until Y/N’s bravery waned to let small whimpers escape her lips. Pain should put her mind elsewhere and make her concentrate — or not. Either way, it was he who was enjoying this far more than she. When she finally relented and a throaty groan left her, he ceased his attack to caress the tender flesh. 

Blood pumped where welts appeared and it left her skin burning hot to his touch. Pain had left only sweet aching in her. Her lips were swollen from biting them, her eyelids fluttered, and all of her body was fragrant with this new heat. Warmth raised from her, enveloping Dracula in a feverish daze that made his teeth sharper. 

Control was never his strong suit. Redirecting his cravings was a simple matter, he reminded himself.

Y/N gasped as he suddenly ripped her underwear off. What remained of it was tossed aside as Dracula undid his belt and trousers, and barely pushing them away, he aligned his cock and entered her forcefully. So incredibly warm, and dripping wet. Beneath him, Y/N cried out a curse and moved her hips against his, an inviting roll for him to keep going. As he obliged and watched a delicate frown on her blushing face, he knew he must feel her body burn on his. Briefly stopping, he discarded his blazer and shirt. His fingers wrapped around the collar of her dress and ripped it down the middle. She helped him tug it completely off her to reveal arms covered with marks. Warmth raced along his chest when it came in contact with the glistening skin on her back. Lying atop her, he rocked against her to the rhythm of her heart. She panted to every thrust, barely making a sound with his weight pressing her down. Beneath him, she shuddered and sighed deeply as her lungs tried to accommodate the thrill of a nearing orgasm. Her body became even plumper with blood. Every nerve ending set alight, every vein dilating as if to feel pleasure in all cells of her body. A few more hard pushes, Dracula groaned low and finished, head swimming and lost as her heart beat madly on his eardrums. 

“You–” she began hoarsely, “you’re done?” Her shoulders pushed against his chest, struggling to move. “Get off me right now,” she demanded. “I’m not done.” He rolled off her, and smiled as she threw a leg over him and accommodated her hips on his. “Where do I bite?” The question was followed by her cunt rubbing on his cock. He shuddered.

Dracula made himself sit down, against all his will to simply lie down and let her question him again and again. Her legs to either side of him squeezed. Grabbing her hand, he touched the tip of her fingers to his neck below his jawline and close to his ear. 

“Here, always here. Shall I make it easier for you and cut?”

Her only answer was to lean closer and place her mouth where he showed her, and bite. Sharp teeth slid into him so easily that he gasped. Y/N moaned low in her chest as blood flooded her mouth. 

All the while she drank, her hips continued to roll over him, seeking to have him inside again until finally she got what she wanted. As she drank greedily – desperately – her hand reached and held onto his face when her cunt began squeezing his cock, tighter and tighter. He pushed his hips up, going as deep as their position allowed, causing them to moan in unison.

Pleasure won the battle against her thirst and her head fell back as her body took over instinctively to continue fucking him. Her face was a half mask of blood that dripped down to her breasts. His tongue licked it clean as her legs started shaking and her rib cage rattled with breaths too small to contain the power of an orgasm. 

The sight of her moving, breathless, bathed in his blood and the feel of her skin on his, wrapped around him, ignited his hunger once again. Dracula tried to push it aside but the ever growing pressure in his gums could only be bearable until a certain point, and he had never quite trained himself to sustain that bothersome pain. His solution was grabbing her legs and pushing her down to the bed, where he raised her hips off the mattress, and thrusted hard and fast. She gasped, and a breathy laugh left her mouth when he carried on.

_____________________________________________________________

Wiping his neck off blood stains with a damp towel, Dracula turned the faucets and left the bathtub to fill. His reflection drew his eyes to the adornment on his neck. Haphazard holes decorated it, as if framing the true pièce de résistance that  was the small arch of Y/N’s teeth indented on his skin and the deep double punctures. Her mark on him, at last. It saddened him that it would only last a few more minutes.

Count Dracula’s smile was still stamped to his face when he returned to the bedroom. 

Y/N, lying nude on the bed if not for the remains of her lingerie – garter belt and stockings and a half ruined bra –, had a finger in her mouth, poking her gums and rubbing her teeth as if expecting them to grow. He stopped by the bed, admiring her. Blotches of blood painted her cheeks in a way that made it seem that she had applied excessive amounts of makeup.

“They’re normal again,” she said, considering him briefly. “Where did they go? I mean– do I have new teeth growing somewhere?”

“I have a second set of teeth that I only use for special occasions.” She stared at him. “A joke.” She rolled her eyes but her lips curved a little. “You’ll learn to control it in the future, but yes, your teeth will grow when you need blood. They may come out on other occasions as well.”

“When I’m angry for instance?” She asked, rolling on her stomach and resting her chin on her hands. The sinuous shape of her back and round ass, bruised with the shape of his hand, drew his eyes.

“For instance,” he agreed. “Speaking of, are you still angry with me?”

“I haven’t decided yet. You did make a very compelling argument.”

“Hitting you and making you cum?”

“I’ll take it under consideration.” She chuckled. “But don’t hide things from me anymore.”

He threw himself on the bed next to her, and extended his arm as an invitation for her to cuddle up to him.

“You refused to see it yourself. Would you have accepted it as the truth if I brought to your attention what was happening?” He heard her take a breath, raising her head from his chest. “Rhetorical question. We’ll take a bath and never speak of it again.”

“Oh, we’ll speak of it again but not tonight. I’m feeling way too good to fight.” She squeezed her arms around him. “You have to return to the party, or people will think we came up here to fuck.”

“We did fuck.”

She blinked. It always surprised her when he cursed, he knew that.

“We don’t need to make it evident.”

“It’s my home. I can do what I want here.”

“Right. But I’m the one who has to work with those people, for at least one more month. It’s enough that they give me looks whenever you’re around but I can’t bear if I hear them whispering in the office that they could hear me scream from the floor below.” Dracula laughed. “I’m serious.”

“No one heard, Y/N.”

“I know. Get dressed and go downstairs. Tell people I’m recovering from a migraine, and wipe that devious grin from your face.” She started slipping away from him, and he locked his arm around her. “I need a bath.”

“Lie down for a minute.” Dracula shut his eyes. “At least let me enjoy this.”

At his side, he felt her body slowly relax. One of her legs hooked on his hip, her heel sliding down to find its place behind his knee where it so often rested. He inhaled deeply to fill his lungs with her, and found that something had changed in her scent. He couldn’t place it, but instinctively knew what it meant.

Grabbing her leg, he pulled her on top of him, slowly, as she quietly asked what he was doing. She asked again as he pushed her legs down, but understood that he simply wanted her to lie atop him when his arms wrapped around her. When he inhaled again, her body moved as if it was a ship rocking to a raging sea. The thought ignited memories of Agatha – his last great experiment – that had cost him one hundred years at the bottom of the sea. 

Four hundred years searching for the right method. Four hundred years of mistakes, and a hundred years lost, had finally brought him what he always wanted. 

“You aren’t usually this quiet,” she murmured, lips brushing his chest.

“I’m happy.”

“Oh.” Her heart skipped a beat. It surprised him, too. “Has it been a very long time since you felt that?”

“A very long time indeed.” One of his hands combed her hair. “Allow me to revel in it before I have to act the gentleman again.” 

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My feet touched the floor quietly as I slipped from Dracula’s embrace. Careful not to juggle the bed and wake him, I made my way out of the bedroom, leaving Dracula alone with his dreams. 

Wind howled and a window downstairs shook. Peering down the mezzanine to the lower floor, I saw the billowing curtains partially obscuring the open window. The source of the raucous that had woken me. A particularly strong wind shot the curtains up and aside, flashing light inside the room and making me squint to protect my eyes. Dirty glasses stained with amber and violet liquids decorated the surfaces all around the lofty, ample room. Crinkled napkins lay near almost all those glasses. Food crumbs decorated the floor as if it had snowed puff pastry. The long centre table was still pushed to the side as if the party would continue at some point. 

As I hurried to close the window, shutting my eyes against the light and the hairs on my legs standing up from the cold, my brain pulled the memory of waking up half drunk, half hungover in my university years, in the middle of the night at someone’s house party to grab water. I had quite literally stumbled over Mallory, sleeping in the middle of the kitchen, and woken her with a kick to the thigh, while I fell on top of her date, who conveniently cushioned my fall. Our drunken, happy laughs made half the house grumble and shout at us to shut up. 

Young and full of dumb decisions that we thought were actually brilliant. Our bellies hurt half the time we were together from all the laughs we had.

I couldn’t live without Mallory. I knew I would have to learn how, but until I was truly dead and gone, I refused to do so. We put our friendship aside because Mallory had given her career more importance once. To do the same to her after I had just gotten her back was not only unfair but also terrible. 

One day to live, one week or one month – it didn’t matter. I would not pass onto another life without at least apologising, and saying goodbye. 

My stomach grumbled at me as I snuck upstairs to retrieve my phone.

Dracula, my warlord, my centuries old vampire, death in a fancy blazer, lied in bed with his hair tousled, his sensuous lips that were so often curved in a devilish smile were now pressed to the pillow as he hugged it. 

Grinning, perhaps stupidly or lovingly – quite hard to tell those apart, frankly –, I opened the camera on my phone and snapped a photo of him asleep. The edges around him appeared blurred, as if he had moved. I tried again. I must have taken 10 photos of him with no different results. Finally, I had to content myself with those, even if I could not capture his tranquil and boyish expression.

On impulse, I flipped the camera to my face and watched as my grin faded right before I snapped a photo of myself. Clear, sharp edges highlighted the glowy, almost dreamlike complexion I had acquired over the past few days. I looked ethereally beautiful, yet still human. Soon enough, I would not have photos of myself. At least not visible ones. 

Worrying about that seemed like such a futile thing to do that I forced myself to put it out of my mind. For the time being, apologising to Mallory was more important than having another identity crisis. I was starting to lose count of those anyway.

Hi. Are you there?

To avoid pacing around the room while I waited for a text back, I went downstairs to the kitchen and busied myself with making tea. 

Mug in hand, I went back to the living room and sat at the armchair half hidden beneath the stairs. I had chosen that little place as mine in Dracula’s home. In a living room so spacious and open, having a tiny secluded spot gave me a sense of security. 

Still no reply.

Mal, I’m sorry about yesterday. I didn’t mean to say that. It came out wrong. 

My breath left me when my screen lit up with the three tiny dots that indicated she was typing. They disappeared a moment later. I stared, almost praying for her to continue. 

I’m sorry about all the other days too. Can we talk?

A moment after I sent it, I considered it. I owed her some grovelling. 

Please? I am really really sorry. There is a lot of stuff going on. I don’t know how to explain but I’ll try. Please talk to me. 

The three dots appeared again.

Okay.

Eyes filled with tears, I typed back hurriedly.

V&A cafe tday? At 3? 

A broken response but I was afraid she would delete her text back. 

You’re paying.

When I laughed in relief, tears ran down my cheeks. I would pay for the entire menu and more if she demanded it of me. 

________________________________________________________

The glowing orb fluctuating above me pulled my attention in. I imagined myself as a moth drawn to its light, throwing myself against it, beating my fragile body to be imbued in that warmth. My eyes stung and watered. I would have to blink in a few seconds. Narrowing my eyes so tears spilled over delicately, I focused all my thought into the dispersion of light and its centre. The moment I noticed the outline of the chandelier, the spell would be gone.

“Hi.”

Blink. 

Tears poured to accumulate beneath my eyes, and once again I blinked to clear them away. 

The round centre chandelier materialised above me. It was like the Victorians had stolen the moon to illuminate the café in honour of Her Majesty Queen Victoria. It was a mere fantasy – the three moons hovering between columns of gold leaves and golden arches were far too modern for the minds of Victorian architects and only added much later. I was a frequent patron to know that. The room was a palace inspired by the Renaissance. A restaurant so far removed from English reality it was easy to imagine I was in Italy. 

The thought dispersed quickly as I took notice of Mallory sitting across from me. 

She had no makeup on today aside from blush and a rosé lipstick. The blonde eyebrows and blonde eyelashes gave her an unnerving look paired with her huge eyes. I could never look at Mallory long when she stared like that. She always looked a little sad. 

How long had she been sitting there before she said hi? I was almost sure I had seen her in my peripheral vision but had refused to acknowledge her. 

“You’re being creepy,” she said. 

Long enough to say that.

“Sorry,” I croaked, and cleared my throat. Unable to hold her gaze upon saying the fateful word I had come here to say, I looked down to fiddle with my sandwich. Chatter and the clinking of cutlery flooded my ears. “I just– got distracted, is all.”

Push it out. Focus.

I dropped my sandwich and hid my hands under the table as I dug my fingernails on my palms. Pain surged, and the maddening chatter echoing inside my head subsided. Perfect technique, I congratulated myself. 

Before I left, Count Dracula had warned that my senses would be even more acute after drinking incalculable amounts of his blood, and that I should try and focus on only one. The chandeliers at V&A Museum Café had been my saving grace after discovering the noise and smells made me dizzy. 

I adjusted myself on my seat, felt the stinging bruises on my buttcheeks, and bristled. Dracula had shown me, true to his sadistic side, that pain worked to bring me out of the blood haze, as I was beginning to call it. I was not about to walk around with a cat o’ nine tails to purge myself of those desires, so I had to make do with what I could, such as scratching my palms raw.

“You’re regretting coming here, aren’t you?” Mallory accused.

“I’m not.” Digging my nails deeper, I raised my eyes to hers. “I don’t know how to start,” I confessed, feeling my face get warm.

At that, Mallory leant back in her chair and her shoulders relaxed. She rubbed her brow, stared at my plate, and called for the waitress. I must have counted all of her eyelashes by the time the waitress was gone. Better than tearing my hands to the bone so that I could focus. 

“I’ll start,” Mal declared after a while longer. “I’ll speak and you’ll listen. You won’t like it but I need to get it out.”

“Can I interrupt as you go?”

“No.”

“Do you mind if I eat while you talk?”

“By all means. You can’t interrupt me with a full mouth.”

I snorted and gestured for her to start as I took a bite from the sandwich. Dry and tasteless, as expected, although it was my favourite food from the menu. 

Mallory inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and opened them again as she exhaled. 

“Actually, I don’t know how to start either.” Her voice broke at the last word. “You can’t fault me for trying to protect you, Y/N. That’s all I’ve been trying to do.” I raised my eyebrows at that and she frowned. “I’m not asking you to agree with me. I don’t care  if you do or don’t. But… I won’t do that anymore. I won’t try to protect you anymore because I realise you don’t want to be protected.” She stopped and leaned her elbows on the table. “You want to be with him, fine, be with him, but don’t isolate yourself. Don’t leave me out of it, please.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I just don’t get it. You changed, yeah, I know and accept that now, but yesterday– that hurt a lot.” Her voice broke as she spoke. My heart broke a little, too. “Fuck, I wasn’t supposed to cry. I wanted to be tough and give you a lecture about how terrible you’ve been and spill venom on you but I just don’t have the energy anymore, and frankly I don’t care about having the last word!”

“Mal, I am so so-”

“Shut up, I’m not done.” Closing her eyes, she amended, "Sorry, that was really rude.” Her gold rings flashed brightly at me when she covered her face with her hands. “I was trying to wave the white flag. Hell, I talked to Count Dracula for god’s sake, and you– you said… that.” Her lower lip trembled. “I felt so belittled, Maddy. So small and so insignificant to you. I had to leave the party so no one saw me burst into tears. I put in the effort to meet you halfway but it was useless. I just don’t know what I did to make you hate me to the point that you can’t stand the sight of me. I don’t.” Tears flowed down her face and she sobbed. Her shoulders shook with every breath as her small chest seemed to fold with the force of her sadness, making her hunch over as if she was humiliated all over again. 

I watched, trying to detach myself from the scene by clawing my palms again, but her misery drew me deeply to her. It was salty and somehow still sweet, as if her tears were on the tip of my tongue for me to taste. 

As I watched her, all I could focus on for a few moments was that, until I realised the proper response should be to empathise. Like I had flipped a switch, her sadness touched on my regret. I extended my hand to her and she took it. We held onto each other for a long time, until she nodded and looked at me again.

“You can talk now,” she said in a small voice.

“I don’t think saying sorry can fix how I made you feel,” I said. “But I can still say it, and I can promise you I’ll never do it again. These last couple of months have been a lot for me–” I closed my mouth. That was not how I was taught to apologise. None of it was an excuse. “What I did, how I treated you, that is not how anyone should treat their friends. You have no idea how happy I was when you offered me your glass yesterday. Honestly, it was enough for me to almost scream ‘yes’ at the top of my lungs but Hayes would’ve gotten the wrong idea.” A corner of her mouth turned up. “I need you to understand that I didn’t mean that. My mouth completely disconnected from my brain, which I’m sure you can empathise with.” The other corner of her mouth tilted up, too. Headed in the right direction. Perfect. “There was a lot going through my head last night-”

“Like being pressured into accepting a million-pounds-a-year offer?” Mallory asked, the smile that had started to grow was now gone.

“You have every right to be jealous-”

“I’m not jealous.”

“Mallory, come on.”

Her nostrils flared before letting go of my hands. She was opening her mouth, ready to lash at me, when the waitress came back with food, and Mallory’s politeness won against her anger.

“I am not jealous,” Mal said when the waitress left. “I’m not delusional like Evelyn. I know I can’t take that on yet, but I know you can. It’s not jealousy, Maddy. I’m angry that you’re throwing something so big away because of a man.”

When Mallory brushed her tears away, her knuckles left reddish marks on her cheeks with the brutality of her newly flared anger. The sickening taste of bitter oranges blossomed on the back of my throat. And so, I found out what anger smelled like. Hairs raised on my arms. 

I need to get this over with. Mallory had said it right – I was being creepy.

“Have you spoken with Diana about Dracula?” I asked, gathering every last thread of patience I had in me. Mallory nodded. Bitter oranges and a dying fire, to be precise. I shut my eyes and tried to remember the night when Dracula counted my vertebrae. Unu, dui…  “So I’m sure Di has told you that she would give up anything to have her husband back. She would’ve given up anything to not lose him in the first place. Do you see where I’m getting to?” Lips pressed to a thin line, Mal frowned but nodded again. “I know it may seem ridiculous to you, I’m not asking you to understand or support me, I’m just asking you to trust me that I know what I want, and I want him more than anything I’ve ever wanted. An entire lifetime couldn’t give me what he gives me.”

“And what is that?”

“Confidence. Passion. Grandiosity. Life itself. All endless.” 

“Not love?”

“In his own way.”

Mallory had the decency to pull on her courtroom face, as I must have done hundreds of times when she told me something I thought was ridiculous. It struck me just then that I had had a similar conversation with Renfield when he was in the psychiatric ward, and I sounded exactly like him. 

“The way you talk about him is so weird, Maddy, surely you see how it comes off? Like he’s– he’s… some kind of… entity. He’s something other, I think, I just know he is. I have dreams sometimes–” She straightened. I could almost see the cogs of her brain turning. Mallory’s lower lip trembled, neck growing stiff as if she had suffered an electric shock, her brows drew together in what I thought was terror. She was going to scream, I realised. Something must have triggered the buried memory of being forcibly bitten. 

“Mal,” I called, but she didn’t seem to hear me. “Mallory, you’re okay.” I grabbed both her hands, accidentally knocking over my tea on my plate. “Look into my eyes. You are with me and you are okay.” Mallory’s pulse hammered on my thumbs when I dug my fingers on her wrist. It reverberated up my arm straight into my chest. I pressed a nail on her wrist, an attempt to make her focus, I told myself, but truly I wanted nothing more than skin breaking and giving way to life’s blood, freeing that terror and anger all through a tiny cut, and making it mine.

“I’m with you,” she said, complacent, eyebrows relaxing and eyes swimming in light. 

Her heartbeat, pulsing against my thumb, sounded on my eardrums, vibrated down my jaw and, at last, synchronised my heart to hers. I inhaled deeply, and knew that I had Mallory within me. 

“You are,” I echoed. She leaned forward in a way that she bumped her small chest on the table. Baby blonde hair fell from behind her ears to frame her face, brushing her clavicles, and drawing my gaze to the scar that had made me say that I couldn’t look at her. And yet, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her, nor my hands. Whatever I had done, it had given Mallory peace. The taste of bitter oranges died with the fire of her anger. Her pliant mind within mine was cotton candy, sweet and just as easy to pull apart. “Isn’t that so much better?” I nodded, and she nodded back. A distant part of me recognised what I was doing, but I could not make myself stop. Control over her mind, so easily taken without my need to try, filled me with power and want, similar to sinking my baby teeth in Dracula. “Mal, you’ll forgive me, won’t you? You have to, you have to.” She tilted her head, as if she was thinking about it. But I had her, I knew I did, and I needed to be forgiven. “Have to, please, please, please, you have to.”

“I have to forgive you,” she repeated, nodding, her voice weak-willed. 

“Yes, you do. I am so sorry. Forgive me for this too. I can’t stop.” My voice trembled. I needed to let her go. My hands didn’t respond to command, however. Her pulse still vibrated on my hands and my heart answered back. “You have to do it, Mal. I can’t let go, but I know you can. Slip between my fingers. Get up. Go home, and please forget about this.” Mallory blinked her pale eyelashes, her doe eyes shining at me. Deer at headlights, that’s what she was, and she had to run from me. “Look away,” I asked her. I did not have the power to do it myself, but I had it over her. She obeyed. Control slipped away as she slipped her hands from mine.

Mallory stood up so fast that her chair fell back. The sound cut through conversation and snapped inside my head like a bullet ricocheted inside it. A waiter materialised, asking if everything was okay, his gaze ping-ponging between a shocked Mallory, the table stained from the tea I had spilled, and myself, sitting there, fists closed to focus with the pain, and staring blankly at my friend. 

“Get me the check, please,” I bit out. The waiter left. 

Mallory shrugged her beige coat on and threw her tiny purse around her shoulder. 

“You did something to me,” she said. I looked at her, almost pleading for her not to leave, not to be angry anymore, to forgive me. “I felt you in here. I don’t know how you did it, and I know it has to do with that psycho you love, but I know I will never forgive you.” She raised her chin, staring down at me, below her. “I hope that hurts you as much as you hurt me.”

She gave me one last withering look, and marched out of the café, leaving me with the rest of my sandwich, the bright moon above my head, and the bewildering realisation that I had just hypnotised my best friend and tried to force her forgiveness.

How long had I blinded myself to what I could do?

________________________________________________________

@5thelement @jar-of-moondust @festering-queen @deborahlazaroff​ @mr-kisskiss-bangbang @girlonfireice @saint-hardy @xoxodracula @princessayveke @dreamer2381 @25ocurer @vampirescurse @blue-serendipity @iwasjustablur @sunscreenfeverdream @daydreaming136 @bittenlove @newyorkrican922 @feralstare @soph3228 @jmor25 @clussysposts @werwulfy @rainbowgoblinfan @soulofsalt @mistandmoss @lddracula @skelior @cesspitoflove @mymindpalaceismywonderland @candleslut @sweet-delila @jackbootedfucks​ @tilldeathripsusapart​ @recklessgiraffelife 

[moonlightmaeve]

This is one of the first Dracula fanfics I wrote, I put Dracula's words and actions into red to help distinguish them from mine. Let me know your thoughts on how this affects the flow/readability. For a bit of context, this is based on BBCs 2020 Dracula. One of his powers is obtaining memories and information through the taste and smell of blood. That's why he licks for a term he'd forgotten. Please let me know if you enjoy this and if I should post more of my writing!!!

"Drac, do you think I'm a bad person?"

"I think that's a bit too philosophical for a Friday night."

"But you love philosophy."

"I like to study philosophy in the same way that you like to study black holes. You cannot even imagine–"

*looks pensively and moves his tongue around in his mouth before resorting to licking the small wounds on my neck*

"–ah yes spaghettification. I cannot even imagine morality. You don't wish to be crushed by the indescribable force beyond an event horizon and I would hate to believe in good or evil."

"Now THAT'S too philosophical for a Friday night. Just answer my question."

"I'll humour you since I am the closest thing to a god that you will ever know. Everything I know about morality is what the blood tells me. Some people regard themselves as honourable but are quite bitter."

*he moves closer to me, and places his hands authoritatively on my shoulder and looks into my eyes.*

"You often have the soured tinge of guilt, a habit that you must cut back on, for the sake of my enjoyment."

"So my blood tells you I'm guilty? By that account I should be terribly ugly as well."

*getting notably frustrated* "No. Your blood tells me that you are still caught up in the lies humanity likes to tell itself. Concepts of good and evil, beautiful and ugly. They are nearly completely absent from the rest of the universe. They live only in feeble minds that allow them to simmer and grow."

"But when I feel guilt, it becomes real because it is real to me. Isn't that how everything is created?"

"My god, clearly you're not listening to me."

*I grin at the opportunity for a joke to break growing tension* "my... what? I thought that's a name we don't say in this house."

*he flashes a mischievous smirk back at me* "quite right my dear" *moving his hands from my shoulders to my waist to pull me closer to him* "we also don't talk about good and bad" *he kisses my head*

"I'll try to avoid it in the future, maybe we should start a swear jar or something, in case I bring up ethics again."

*looking obviously amused and curious, his voice takes on a decisively playful tone.* "a swear jar??"

"Ya know it's like I have to give you some money every time I swear. Except for instead of saying FUCK, it'll be 'good or evil.'"

"Watch your tongue young lady, or I'll pierce it for you. And yes now that you say that I do recall it, from the 80s. Money is something I have little need for and much of. Now attend my words very carefully darling. Your beloved cat kills baby birds because she was made by nature to do so. I erm ‐harvest‐ blood because I need it to survive. And you, you are often moved by something unseen and powerful that you crave. There is no good or bad in that. Do not bring it up again. Come back with sweet, shame-free blood."

"Drac?"

"Yes?"

"You said 'good or bad' just then, now give me £5"

[anncanta]

Atrium

I don't know if it is OK to reblog your own fic but I want to share it again. It is my favorite work so far. And I made two covers for it. Couldn`t choose one so decided to show both. Which one is better for you?

[seleneblue]

Winter Fruit (Part 1)

x. Dracula 2020 x. Dracula x Reader x. Explicit x. Summary: A new life, a new chapter, and everything is getting so heated. x. Word count: 630

“What is it that you desire?”

So lush, lovely, and dark. The vampire’s voice is like a fine and deadly syrup. The vowels tickle in your ear like a beautiful, sinister little dance.

The sun slowly dips below the horizon. Plush curtains and lamps with soft amber glows blocked out most of the golden rays, except for one sliver peeking through a far off window. Close enough for you to see the waning sunlight, and far away to do any harm. Soon, the night would bloom with pinholes of stars like silent cosmic guardians flitting over your darkest desires.

The vampire is talking to you.

You reach for an onyx bowl and finger a fresh fig, delaying the inevitable answer Dracula already knew. Days passed—maybe even a week—since you eschewed your old life. Abandoned routines and livelihoods to run head first into his arms with no plan, present or future.

You make eye contact with him and bite into the petal-soft ripened fig instead of answering. You hope it burns him. Just a little bit, enough for some delicious trouble.

Dracula says your name one more time. The urge to say Yes, Daddy pulsates in your throat.

You eat the rest of the fig. “Mm, you.”

In Dracula’s chambers the fireplace is full of blue and orange tipped flames. Something else in you is already burning, it’s mossy and ancient. Carnality lives in your mouth.

If only he would fully taste it.

Everything around you both is an embrace and a spell. Wreaths of dried pomegranates and lamb’s ear (fairy treasures, Dracula tells you), candle sconces, and portraits of beautiful women and men long gone adorn the flocked velvet wallpaper. The room is warm and the heat pools inside your belly in wild anticipation of his mouth, his such sharp teeth.

In this arid, forest-tinged museum is where new art will be made—Dracula’s worship of you.

+++

Dracula is upon you before you take a new breath. The scent of you is intoxicating, like a lush forbidden fruit. The rising heat makes you both hunger.

“What is it that you desire?” he asks again.

At this moment, you study his hands. How close they are to your neck, how large they are against your skin. His fingers trace lines at your clavicles, the other hand reaching to your breast and teases your nipples.

You gasp. Dracula continues.

“Yesterday, you asked me to rip your dress off into shreds,” he says into your ear. “And you rode my thigh.”

Dracula nips at your neck. Teasing, so much teasing. You moan and his eyes turn red. “The day before that, I worshiped your slit again and again.” You grin, remembering the delicious forced orgasms, quivering in a pile of sticky sweat with pinpricks of blood glistening at your throat.

Dracula shivers with arousal. “You are beautiful, my dove,” he says.

He bites you hard, leaves a trickle of blood on your neck and chest in his destructive wake.  Sighing, you try to muster the words of your desire. “Tell me,” he commands.

The small puncture marks on your neck ache with pleasure. Your lips feel warm, pulsating at the prospect of his kisses, and even more pleasure. Languid thoughts race through your head, if he could take you fully. If Dracula could make you truly his.

Dracula lazily pinches your nipples again, your body keeps heating up. The wet space between your thighs throbs. “I want you,” you say. “All of you—completely inside me.”

He straddles you and that sickly divine scent of mythology and dark pomegranates fills your nose. You’re ready to take him, to be filled up with his hard hot sex. You’re ready to be a bride.

“You wish is my command,” Dracula says. “My bride.”

Part 2 (Coming soon, hopefully by the end of this week.)

[xquantifiablybitchy]

Okay so I know there's divided opinion on how good an adaptation Moffat and Gatiss' Dracula was but I loved it and I am shamelessly in love with Claes Bangs performance, so to that end I wrote a thing (and intend to keep writing the thing, if life doesn't throw me another curve ball)

If you do read it and like it, I absolutely welcome interaction either on AO3 or here!

[alma37]

Yes?!

My therapist just told me my problem is that I need to write more fanfiction.

[moonlightmaeve]

So I've written quite a few one-off fics based on BBCs Dracula 2020, but I'm trying to decide if it would be worth trying to turn into a longer form story?? I have a rough idea of a plot in mind and I've renamed the character in case "Dracula" is too cheesy for a novella. Thoughts?

[anncanta]

Solace

Fandom: Dracula (2020)

Characters: Count Dracula, Agatha Van Helsing

Relationship: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing

Rating: Mature

@hopipollahorror @ravenathantum @dragatha @ladyhaley28

Read on AO3 or read below

‘Now let's talk.’

Dracula closed the door behind Jack and turned to Agatha.

‘There is nothing to talk about.’

‘Why did you come back?’

He got to her quickly. She stepped back towards the wall.

‘What do you want –’

‘You are in pain. I can hear your heart beating – twice as fast as normal. You are dying.’

‘This is Zoe's body.’

He stepped closer.

‘Why did you come back?’

Agatha was silent.

‘You gave her your blood,’ she said with a chuckle. ‘It was your idea. You tell me.’

‘You have returned to a sick, exhausted, weak body, which has little left and which torments you every second.’ Dracula stood very close. ‘What for, Agatha?’

She looked into his eyes.

‘Someone had to stop you.’

Dracula tilted his head.

‘Stop me? Oh, what was your plan? That?’ He nodded at the aspen stakes lying on the table. ‘You can barely raise your arm, not fight. I'll break your neck before you can glimpse there.’

Agatha was silent.

‘Why did you come back, Agatha?’ he almost whispered, touching her cheek with his palm.

‘I don't think I had a choice.’

‘Of course, you had.’

You have always had a choice.

Agatha raised her hand, rubbed her forehead.

‘Well, I deserve it,’ she said.

Dracula looked at her in surprise.

‘I deserved it,’ Agatha repeated with a sad smile. He stood close to her, and she was in so much pain, she was so hard and ill that she could barely understand whether she was still leaning on the wall, or already lying on the floor. The heat that gripped her – was that the heat of her own languishing body, or it comes from him? It can't be, she thought, vampires are cold. That's what it says in all the books. She looked up. ‘I deserved it. For killing Jonathan, killing the Mother Superior, the nuns, and Sokolov,’ she said bitterly. ‘And God knows who else. I didn't stop you, I didn't stop…’ Agatha took a breath. ‘That's why I came back.’

‘You lie, Agatha,’ he spoke softly. His hands grabbed the lapels of Zoe's jacket and pulled them back. ‘You know, I can prove it.’

On the floor, after all, Agatha decided, as the top and bottom briefly switched places, and then there was a hard and smooth plane underneath her. The jacket has disappeared.

‘You won't kill me. You... you will be poisoned,’ Agatha whispered, watching Dracula lean towards her.

‘You came back,’ he kissed her, softly, tenderly, – slowly, as if he had the whole night ahead of him. Like he had his whole life ahead of him. ‘You came back because, Agatha, you wanted to see me. You wanted me to touch you – just like now. You wanted to feel me. You drove those thoughts away from you,’ he said, tearing himself away from her skin and pressing his forehead against hers. ‘But they came again. And again. You wanted me.’

‘It's much worse.’ Closing her eyes, Agatha almost laughed. ‘You didn't guess, Count Dracula. – Such an insufficient pain. She deserved the worse one. ‘Didn't guess. I fell in love with you.’

When did she realize? On Demeter ? After thinking they beat him? When it was already safe. When no one else had to die because of her missteps. When could she afford not to fight, but only to remember and regret him? Or later – already in Zoe's head, returning without knowing why? Is that why she was silent for so long? Is that why she didn't dare to come?

His amazement was palpable, vivid. He looked at her for a second, silently, as if in disbelief. Then he leaned down again and said softly,

‘Hold on, Agatha Van Helsing.’

She frowned in surprise.

‘What –’

Dracula pulled off his jacket. He unbuttoned his shirt collar.

‘What I need unlikely is deadly, but it can be hard.’

She didn't have time to say anything. Darkness enveloped her so quickly that Agatha thought she was dead at last. Until a few moments later, a glimmer of light appeared in the darkness – bright, golden. Disappeared – as if it was not there – the pain. Dracula was next to her – so obvious here, so insistent, as it must be only after declarations of love.

Agatha looked at him.

‘Let me go.’

The pleasure was unbearable in its newness.

‘No way,’ said Dracula. The light was on fire. ‘You promised to show me what I'm afraid of.’

[mossworth]

Uuhhh lemme try

ao3 has seen me at my lowest points 

[thebeautyofdisorder]

You ever read your own fanfic and get mad at yourself for not finishing it?

Yeah... Anyone still wanna read my BBC Dracula nonsense? 😂

I could be pursuaded.

[hugintheraven]

Dracula Daily and Fanfic

So, I decided to look into AO3 and see what this fandom produced since the beginning of *gestures vaguely* ALL THIS. 

Historical context: Pre-2016, there were 166 fanfics total in the Dracula(Bram Stoker 1897) tag on AO3. 2016-2019, there was an average of 60 fics added to the tag per year. In 2020, Moffat dropped a BBC Dracula series and the fandom exploded, posting 242 fics in 1 year. 2021, things died down, only 156 fics posted, still far better than any pre-2020 year for the tag.

And in 2022, as of November 11, the tag has 320 new fics. Double last year, and the year’s not even over yet. Of those, 265 have been posted since May, which is more than the previous record year(Moffat), and this fandom did it in 6 months. Congratulations, that is legit impressive and I just want to say thank you to everyone involved. I hope to see more fanfics added to that list so that I have to revise my numbers even further in 2 months.

Now, some disclaimers. This data was gathered manually so I may have messed up some marginal things, and the practice of uploading other archives and backdating fics makes it more confusing. I have also not excluded crossovers. This means that this definitely includes some works based on the 2013 TV show(for example) that were tagged with this fandom as well, but defining a crossover in a useful way for my purposes here seems difficult. And I only checked the Bram Stoker Dracula tag, because the “All Works” Dracula tag will include plenty of other unrelated works. And of course, there’s fanfics that are in the tag for this year that aren’t Daily-related. But the conclusion is pretty clear anyway, this was a good year for Dracula fanfic.

[made-of-wood]

Hello there, dear Renfield fans!

Do you enjoy Mel Brooks' Dracula: Dead and Loving it? Do you enjoy a bit of light angst thrown at a rather ridiculous character? Would you perhaps like to help a fellow out?

Then, consider checking my fanfic collection of two one-shots and one preview of an AU I've been brainstorming up!

Yes, I know it's quite late, but I found it quite appealing as this would be normal hours for Renfield and Dracula.

Anywho, support always appreciated!

As thanks, enjoy 1977 BBC Renfield staring longingly out the window.

[lapelle-du-bubblegum-vide]

Tagged by @aurora-boreas-borealis Thank you <3 (and sorry for getting to this rn asfghjsjk)

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! Then tag as many people as you have WIPS.

I apologise in advance for how some of these will sound LOL. Also some are titles to bigger folders and idk i hope that's gonna be comprehensible.

Ah yes, strangers/idiots to lovers in a wasteland + crows my beloved~ (lmao)

Dracula (1897) AU

Dream smp slasher au

DSMP BBC Sherlock AU <3

Emo/Scene SBI AU

Enemies to lovers but literally the plague but Phistin

Halloween Wilbur and Kristin special

Hounds of Love and Phistin My Beloveds

Incredible Immortals 2023 event (Anynone remember that one? Lmao)

Kate and Leopold au

Some sort of royal au with prince/king c!Wil literally exists only so I can use FOB’s “From Now On We Are Enemies”

The Family Jewels AU (kinda)

All Was Golden - An Dream SMP AU/Phil is a nationalist/royalist au (consisting of: A baker and her fisherwoman :D, One shot???? Another fanfic????, Wilbur fucked a salmon and nobody believes him :), Wilbur is a general and playing Hamilton with his mums army :), Yay mumza dadza and crows fanfiction :D)

MH AU - Text

IRYEWYG (consisting of: I'll Remember This Night When You're Gone, I'll Remember Your Eyes When You're Gone - Full Work, Surrender Your Heart (Surrender Every Dream), We’ll Drive On And On, So Dream On And On)

Bingo Bang 2022 (consisting of: BingoBang2022 - Ideas for oneshots, First date - BB2023 prompt turned oneshot)

Scream fanfic

Ready or not fic ideas

Cabin AU (consisting of: Cabin fic, Cabin sequel, Cabin sequel-prequel)

If anynone wants to ask about anything after reading all that oh my god, WOW, brave of you.

Tagging these guys @slasherbat @demonadelem @horse-plinko @ace-attorney-go-brrrrr (don't feel forced to participate <3)

[korkietism]

Actual Pinned Post

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

I honestly completely forgot to do a pinned post because I am a fool but oh well here we go again.

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Korkie/Wolfe ੈ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊˚ xe/xem ੈ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊˚ queer, native, autistic ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊My blogs~

@k0rksp0rk - oc blog

@loathed-to-be-her-hound MCD rewrite (indefinite hiatus)

@spinrekiyo Kiyo blog

@mlp-warpedaway MLP AU things/fanfic (also on hiatus until I'm fixated again)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ASD---- spins; service animals, korekiyo shinguji, drv3, HLVRAI, Octonauts ✩‧₊˚

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Interests: Dracula, Octonauts, MLP, Danganronpa, wolves, MCD, Ace Attorney, axolotls, BBC Sherlock, Hannibal, TOH, sea slugs, Helluva Boss (regrettably), She-ra, Monster High (new gen), HLVRAI, Sam and Max (by osmosis from wifey), PTP, fluffle puff, LMK, BNHA, more to be added ੈ✩‧₊˚

(I have a vast range of interests.)

ੈ✩‧₊˚Current focus: Fumikage Tokoyami (BNHA) ੈ✩‧₊˚

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Free Palestine.

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[astrangergivingthestrangewelcome]

For the ask game!

💕 What is your favorite fic that you’ve written?

🥳 Why did you start writing fanfic?

🦈 Which character is the toughest to write?

💕 there are different things I really like about a lot of my fics, but honestly it's Blood Wisdom. Even though I've written 71k (!!) more of the story since Blood Wisdom and I think grown as a writer a lot since then... it's Blood Wisdom. One of the reasons that I started to write Strange Wonders was because I just thought that the ending of Dracula was lackluster. It's fine, but it starts off this Very strong psychological drama between Jonathan and Dracula and the way it ends... You might as well have car chase music playing tbh. Dracula doesn't speak past October 3rd. He's a total non-character in his own climax. It's cool that Jonathan kills him, but you're not in Jonathan's head in anyway... I wanted to end it as a psychological drama between Jonathan and Dracula and it was just really really satisfying to me to write. You know when things are just going great and you're sitting at your laptop and it's like you're in an elevated state of being and your energy is up bc you're writing it and it's like you're in your story and you start to feel the emotions you're writing for your characters? That's really what it was like for me to write Jonathan and Dracula's last verbal exchange. Like there's a line in that story where Mina says that Jonathan left the study in an agitated state and went out for a walk after he wrote his ending, and I included that because I left my living room in an agitated state and took a walk after I wrote that scene as well. I had just the best time.

And even though I would say New Woman has really given me the most valuable practice at adaptational plotting, Blood Wisdom was really the first successful time I had to sit down with a plotting problem and figure out "hey, I need these story beats from this moment. What do I need to do to get myself there?" It was a big moment of proving to myself that I could do that sort of a thing, and even though the story was only under 30k at that point in time it meant a lot to me that I had written a longer story with a beginning, middle and end.

🥳 The year was 2010, I was 10 years old and was very guilty telling fanfiction.net that I was 13 years old so that I could read James and Sarah fan fiction for PBS's American Revolution cartoon Liberty's Kids... I decided I wanted to write James and Sarah fanfiction myself and spent an afternoon writing maybe a page before I accidentally deleted everything and never started again because I was so discouraged. The next fanfic I would write and actually publish would be a BBC Sherlock fic in 2016. 🤣

I think my reasons are the same as anyone else's really. I get inspired by fiction and want to fill in the gaps. While this is not true for all of the fanfiction that I've written, I definitely tend to write my best work when I want to see something happen in a story that I don't get to see.

🦈 I've only ever written one scene with Lucy in it but I don't think she'll prove very difficult to write for. The character that I struggled with the most was probably Van Helsing. I know that Uncommon Horrors and the Resilience of the Dawn were in fact supposed to be one fic, but I switched perspective because I was like God damn I can't be in his head 24/7 anymore this is killing me. Just in terms of doing a pastiche of how Stoker has him talk. It's all right when he's just saying dialogue, but when the entire description of everything, dialogue and thought and all that has to be in that style as well... it was challenging. But I do like some of the lines that I wrote as Van Helsing. I am moderately satisfied with the end product but a lot of blood sweat and tears came before it lol.

Thanks friend!

[jo-harrington]

wehehehehe ok LETS TALK ABOUT THIS SERIES because I just recommended BBC Dracula to @courtingchaos and she’s watching it and going feral in my DMs. So of course I recommended this series as a followup because what fun is it being part of the fandom experience as a whole without sharing some of your favorite fics when introducing friends to new media. And this is seriously seriously high on my list, one of my all time favorites.

Now I know I need to reread it but damn just rereading the first chapter again after a few years and I’m already hooked back in. GOD and there are definitely scenes I’m looking forward to. Aghhhh. It’s like coming home.

This is one of my Ultimate Fic Recs for anyone of my current fandom friends looking for some good juice.

distorted lullabies [chapter I]

Word count: 2,134 Warnings: none but please keep in mind this story will eventually delve into mature themes so go away if you’re not 18+ Pairing: Dracula x female reader

I’ll try posting a chapter per week. Any constructive criticism and feedback is very welcome (really, english is not my first language so I’ll take any help I can get). I’m waiting for ao3 to e-mail me an invitation so I can post it there, too. 

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