#i have finally jumped on the Agatha All Along train and am all caught up and it is a DELIGHT

[smirk47]

“My particular kink is women being good at their jobs,” Jac Schaeffer tells TheWrap of assembling what she refers to as the “Ocean’s Eleven” episode

(source: The Wrap ep2 deep dive with Agatha All Along Showrunner Jac Schaeffer)

👀😍🤩💯🙌🙌🙌

[thisisarcanereverie]

Should’ve Known Chapter 14

A/N:  FINAL TIME SKIP. Also we are reaching the point now where there are only maybe 3 chapters left in this series but res assured I will be doing asks and will be writing small side shots to this series. Because I did leave a bunch of detail to the imagination. Also PLEASE INTERACT IT GIVES ME LIFE. Like seriously hearing active feedback on chapters really helps motivate writers like me to write. 

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own Wanda or Steve they are owned by Marvel, I don’t own the gif either.

WARNINGS:Angst, Swearing, loss, dark themes, 18 + from here on out. 

WORDS : 3,113

SUMMARY: Months turn into years and now the twins are six years old. Unexpected visitors arrive and things take an unexpected turn. 

In case you missed last chapter

series masterlist

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST

Sunlight danced through the crack in the sheer curtains in your shared bedroom and glinted off of the ring on your finger. 

Wanda couldn’t help but stare at you, appreciating every detail of your face, the way your nose twitches occasionally, the sound of soft breathing coming from you, and the rise and fall of your chest as you simply existed in this moment. She thanked every star she could that you existed. You changed her life for the better and she dreads to think of what life would have been like without you and the two beautiful children you gave birth to six years ago. 

You kept her grounded, you and the kids made her feel loved like she hadn’t felt since Pietro was taken from her. 

Wanda would be damned if she let anything take her family away from her again. 

Wanda still had her nightmares, the scars left behind from Vision and from Pietro, her parents, and Agatha were still there. But thanks to you those scars became simply that, scars. Scars that were faded but would forever remain there. 

However, as her old fears started to fade, new fears came to light. 

Some nights she dreams that Agatha had been right, that Wanda only brought chaos and death. She dreams that you and the kids died horrifically like everyone else she had ever loved. 

Other nights she dreams that she is the one who killed you. On those nights you spend hours combing your fingers through her hair and rubbing those familiar comforting circles on her back. Bringing her back to where she was now, that you and the kids were still alive. 

Then there were those special nights when her dreams were sweet and full of love. Sometimes she’s reliving a happy memory with her family before the bombing, sometimes she dreams of Vision and sometimes it’s with two boys that she doesn’t recognize but she knows she loves. However, if she’s really lucky, she dreams of you. Wanda dreams of sitting on the porch with you, sipping steaming tea with honey, grey and white in your hair, but your eyes are as youthful and as full of love as ever. Wanda dreams that her hair is peppered in grey and white as well, wrinkles of time written on her face, and that in the end she had never been what Agatha claimed she was. the Scarlet Witch, the Harbinger of Chaos, the Destroyer of the World. She dreams that all of that was just myth and that in the end all Wanda was, was Wanda Maximoff. 

Your wife. 

Wanda feels the corners of her lips curl upward as she remembers proposing to you. She did it at home, she hid it in the popcorn and you nearly choked on the damn thing. After spitting the ring out Wanda had the worst case of butterflies she ever felt. Wanda knew that marriage was an off subject for you and you weren’t quite sure how you felt about it and Wanda respected that greatly. However, she wanted to let you know that if you ever change your mind, Wanda would gladly marry you whenever you wanted, be it fifty years or an hour. So long as she got to be with you in the end. 

Wanda’s patience with you and the respect that she held for you and vice versa. You didn’t know you could fall even more in love with her. 

You and Wanda had been happily married for three years now and it was safe to say this was the happiest either of you had ever been. 

“Staring’s rude babe.” You muttered under your breath as your lashes fluttered before you fully opened your eyes. Taking in a brand new day in the same old world. 

“Stop being so beautiful in the morning then I’ll stop.” 

“Am I not beautiful any other time in the day?” You teased her. 

“No,” Wanda said before starting to litter your face in soft kisses. 

“You’re gorgeous in the afternoon,” Wanda whispered as she kissed your neck, nipping it slightly causing you to giggle. “You’re exquisite in the evening,” Wanda’s lips trails up your throat, her talented hands wandering as she did, “and you’re downright divine at midnight when the moonlight peaks through our curtains and bathes you in this silvery light.” Wanda’s lips are at the corner of your mouth now, your breathing now becoming hitched as Wanda’s lips are so far yet so close to your lips, “It’s at that time of day that I stare at you the longest.” Finally Wanda’s lips place a gentle but loving kiss on your lips. Her lips on yours never failed to make your heart flutter like it was the first time, fireworks and electricity running through you like wildfire. 

Just as you were about to deepen the kiss you heard the door to your shared room slam open, tearing your lips from Wanda’s to see two small figures rush and jump on your and Wanda’s bed. 

“Good Morning Mama and Mommy!” You heard the excited voices of your twins say. You and Wanda scooted aside to make room for the two already rambunctious twins in between you. 

Steve immediately went to cuddle by your side while Scarlet went to Wanda. Even when the twins were infants they had a preferred parent that they naturally drifted to. For Scarlet it had been Wanda and for Steve it was you. 

You looked at Wanda who looked at Scarlet like she was the world, in fairness she looked like that at Steve and you as well. And instead of scaring you, it felt nice. It warmed your heart to know that Wanda felt the same way, that the people in that room right there were your entire world.

Once the twins settled in between you, you and Wanda kissed the tops of their heads to which Steve giggled as you kissed raspberries on his cheeks.

“What’s on the agenda today little ones?” Wanda asked, Wanda often missed out on most of the day due to training with Strange. She’s gotten very proficient over the years at controlling her powers, Wanda’s learned more about herself and what she could do over the past six years and the more she learned the more frightened and amazed she was. 

“We’re going to go pick raspberries to make jam and pies!” Scarlet said excitedly. 

“Don’t forget,” You chimed in, booping your daughter's nose lightly with your index finger, causing her to giggle her bell like laughter, “that’s only after we finished our classwork today.” 

Steve let out a groan while Scarlet seemed to buzz with excitement. Scarlet loved learning, and Steve did too although not as much as his sister.

You had been homeschooling them, for fear of the worst. You knew that they were young and the likeliness of their powers showing themselves when they were really young were slim. However, you knew that their existence alone would cause a tsunami of reporters and agents ready to probe them. You knew there was a chance that their powers may never come, however until you were certain you and Wanda thought it best to homeschool them. 

It wasn’t bad, you took them to the park for them to play with kids their own age. After all, Nat did teach you the best way of hiding was in plain sight and acting naturally. 

---

You and the kids had just got done with school work for the day when you grabbed three baskets and headed to the raspberry bushes in the garden. Wanda had cast a spell on the bushes to make them grow raspberries anytime in the year. 

You laughed and watched lovingly as the kids ran around the yard playing tag. You counted your blessings that they got along with each other, maybe all the Sokovian whispers to your belly had done something after all. 

You gathered the three baskets of raspberries and brought them back inside. You washed the raspberries at the sink and occasionally checked outside the kitchen window to make sure that they were alright. 

After cleaning the raspberries you fixed them with a snack of apple slices and celery. You went on the porch to call them in when a vision of red, white and blue caught your eye. 

the Shield. 

It brings you back to Steve, his baby blues and his smiles and Tony’s funeral. 

You had heard what happened in New York with the Flagsmashers all those years ago and you would have gotten involved had you not been heavily pregnant at the time. 

You're brought back to the present when the Star Spangled Man with a Plan (now upgraded with wings) asks your twins where their mom was. 

“Sam...” You say, the tall man turned to you and it was then you see that he wasn’t alone. You don’t know how you could have missed the roaring of the motorcycle in the yard and the other tall man. “Bucky....”

The men walked toward you while the twins ran. 

“Mommy! Mommy! There are people here to see you.” They say at the same time, it wasn’t very often that you had company, much less unexpected company. 

“I see that,” You said evenly, keeping your face straight as the two men in front of you widened their eyes in realization. You tear your eyes away from them and to the two children in front of you and you knelt down to their height. “Why don’t you two go inside and play while Mommy talks to these gentlemen for a second.”

“Do you know who they are?” Lettie asked curiously, her eyes scanning the men. 

“Do we get to meet them?” Steve asked excitedly, looking amazed at Bucky’s metal arm. 

“I’ll let you know that in a second, but for right now go inside and play.” You said firmly, the twins waved goodbye to the men before heading inside. You waited until you heard the door close behind them to walk toward the men in front of you. 

“Boys,” You greeted motioning the porch chairs on the other side, “take a seat.”

Sam and Bucky listened and sat down. 

“Do you want a drink?” You asked, arms crossed. 

“Got anything strong?” Bucky asked. His eyes are not meeting yours. 

“It’s Scotland and I am a mom to twins,” You pointed out, “of course I do.” 

“I’ll take that then.” Bucky said, you looked at Sam who simply shook his head. You went in and grabbed the only bottle of Whiskey and a glass. 

By the time you gave Bucky the whiskey they seemed to have processed what they just saw. Sam looked at you with pity and concern, meanwhile Bucky looked off in the distance, anger radiated off of him in waves. 

“Are they Steve’s?” Sam asked. You simply nodded. 

“I only found out a month or so after the funeral,” You revealed, “I didn’t even know I was going to go through with the pregnancy until the events of Westview happened.” 

“Why didn’t you tell us?” 

“The less people that know the safer they are,” You explained, “I wanted to tell you.”

“But you didn’t” Bucky chimed in, his voice was shaky and his grip on the glass tightened. 

“They’re the children of the former Captain America and Sargent Steel,” You said, “I have to keep the people who know about them tight and few.”

“Who all knows?” Sam asked. 

“Director Fury, Director Rambaue, Pepper, Strange, Wong-”

“Does your husband know?” Bucky interrupted. Sam looked confused before he noticed the subtle wedding ring on your left hand. 

“Holy shit you got married.” Sam said, astonished. 

“Yes I am,” You confirmed feeling slightly awkward since it only took you this long to realize that you never officially came out to them. 

“My wife knows.” You said vaguely, you see both of the men's eyes widen in shock. Sam recovered faster than Bucky who took another drink from his whiskey. 

“Who’s the lucky girl?” Sam asked.

“That would be me.” 

You all turn your heads to your wife, still clad in her Scarlet Witch form. If it wasn’t for the fact that you had company you know your lips would be all over her by now. 

She winks your way and you flush. Wanda didn’t need to read your mind to know exactly what you were thinking. 

“Hold up,” Sam said, “You married her?!” 

“Yup.” You confirmed as her form sat down next to you and grasped your hand. 

“How long has this been a thing?” Bucky spoke for the first time in a while. 

“Why do you need to know?” Wanda asked, her hand firmly holding yours. Bucky held his hands up in surrender before taking one last swig from his glass. 

“The bottom line is, only Wanda and the rest know, and I guess now you two do as well.” You said. There was a long pause of silence, before Sam spoke. 

“I won’t say anything.” Sam said finally, before nudging Bucky out of his staring spell. 

“Boys,” You call out as you see that they’re about to leave. 

“I truly am sorry you had to find out this way, but I was only doing what I thought would keep them safe, and now that you know you’re free to visit them anytime.... It would be good for them to finally meet their fathers old friends.” You said. You see Sam and Bucky nod, you reach out for a handshake only to be pulled into a firm hug by Sam. 

“I understand Sarg, you only did what you thought was best.” Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you returned the hug. Bucky still couldn’t look at you. 

You knew that you had broken his trust and you would work on getting it back. You just hoped that whatever grudges he had against you wouldn’t stop him from forming a bond with the kids. 

After Sam lets you go Bucky surprises you with a hug as well, his beefy arms encasing you firmly. 

“We’ll be visiting again soon.” Bucky promises as he lets you go and shakes goes to shake Wanda’s hand. 

“Wait,” You say as Bucky already is making his way to his motorcycle and Sam prepares for flight. 

“Yeah?” Sam replies. 

“There’s one thing I don’t get,” you said, “what brought you guys here?”

Sam paused for a second before replying. 

“I was just flying overhead, Bucky and I got word that there might’ve been an abandoned HYDRA base here but, turned out to be a faulty tip.” Sam said before saying his final goodbyes as he lifts off into the air and Bucky peels out of the driveway. 

“He was lying.” Wanda says, her eyes giving off a faint red glow. 

“I know.” You say, Sam’s pulse jumped when he spoke about the abandoned HYDRA base. You softly grab her hand and bring it to your lips, planting a small peck to the back of it. 

Wordlessly you walked hand in hand with Wanda through the front doors and continued with the regular evening schedule. 

You and Wanda made dinner as the kids helped set the table and talked about the day. The kids asked questions about who the men were and you and Wanda answered as best as you could without giving them the full truth. Which was surprisingly more difficult. Eventually dinner ended and while Wanda got the kids ready for bed it was your turn for dishes. After dishes were washed and rinsed you let them air dry in the rack and went to tuck in the twins with Wanda. 

Wanda and you kissed their heads goodnight and then proceeded to the couch.

Just as you made your way to the couch you noticed Wanda standing still. 

“Wands, what's wrong?” You asked, reaching out to her. 

“Nothing it’s just,” Wanda started as she played with her hands, “I have a bad feeling, like something is about to happen.”

“Come sit on the couch and talk me through it.” You say as you lead her to the well loved couch. You and Wanda sit and immediately fall into the position you always do, her leaning into you and your arm swung around her shoulders. Wanda had long since transformed out of her Scarlet Witch form but she still looked magical to you. Her fiery locks cascading down her dainty shoulders and just a hint of sparkle on her cheeks remained. You felt Wanda give a deep sigh before speaking. 

“I don’t know what it is, it’s not anything deadly but it fills me with dread just the same.” Wanda said with her green hues giving off a faraway look, “something is about to happen and I don’t know what it is.” 

“Whatever happens,” you say, maneuvering her so that way she faces you, “we’ll face it like we’ve done most things. Together.” You press your forehead to hers and let your eyelids flutter shut and Wanda follows suit. 

“Together.” Wanda whispers back as she finally closes the gap between you in a promise like kiss. 

---

---

---

“Buck don’t do this,” Sam tried to stop the centurion. Over the course of six years the two men had grown close and eventually Sam had earned the privilege of calling the taller man Buck. 

“He has the right to know.” Bucky responded, icy eyes focused solely on the communicator that their mutual friend gave them for ‘universe level threat emergencies only’ 

“We promised her we wouldn’t tell anyone Buck.” 

“No,” the Brooklyn man gruffed, “you promised her you wouldn’t tell anyone. I didn’t promise shit. So don’t worry your pretty little head about breaking your promises.” 

“First off thank you for finally admitting that I’m pretty,” Sam said before attempting to snatch the communicator and failing. “Second off, we should’ve told her the truth from the start. Instead of leaving puzzle pieces to put together.” 

“She had plenty of puzzle pieces. It's not our fault she didn’t put them together.” Bucky said not looking the man in the eye, “He left her a message on the phone and a message in the personal notebook. It’s not ou-” 

“If you’re going to say not our fault again I’m going to slap you.” Sam interrupted. “You know damn well that (Y/n) was as strong as steel, but Nat and Tony’s deaths wore her down, but HE was the breaking point. HE fucked up man, HE has to live with that and THAT’S NOT our job to help him make up for that.” 

Just when Bucky starts to reconsider, the communicator beeped. 

MESSAGE SENT - - - MESSAGE RECEIVED  - - - MESSAGE INBOX (1) 

- ON MY WAY_CSGR

[chelsfic]

Inherited Chapter 12/12 - Dracula x OFC - BBC Dracula fanfic

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Part Eight | Part Nine | Part Ten | Part Eleven

A/N: You guys! I just wrote this really quickly, but I was on a roll and wanted to get it up for all of my lovely, patient readers who have been so friendly and kind and supportive throughout the life of this fic.

This is the last chapter, babies. There’s room to go on--but honestly, I never intended to take this further than Emilie’s err--”wedding.” So for now this will be the end for Emilie and Drac, but I hope you love it. And I’m going to be working on my Drac x Agatha fic with more energy now...

*** The enclosed carriage rocked over the bumpy road as it made it’s slow and steady progress through the dense wood. When they approached a break in the trees Emilie got her first glimpse of the castle standing stark and magnificent against the moonlit sky. It took her breath away. Ruined ramparts stuck up like jagged fangs, crowning the ancient stone facade. Even from a distance she felt the energy of this old castle: its history, its power, its ghosts. It was just the type of place she pictured her Count thriving and occupying with his dark presence. And could she see herself here also? Could she discern the amorphous possibilities for her future in the craggy, chiseled walls and worn, creaking shutters? 

Her eyes shifted to glance at her traveling companion, her dark lover, her dear man. He was looking back at her with an expression of anticipation and affection. A soft smile touched his lips which she returned with her own shy grin. 

No, she didn’t see her future in the ancient ruined castle. She saw it here, in Dracula’s eyes.

***

They took the train to Edinburgh and made the rest of the journey via horse-drawn carriage. When the Count had given her his...proposal, he’d explained the need to move away to a less populated place.

“My Emilie,” he’d whispered into her ear in the shaking, vulnerable moments following their union in her childhood bedroom. He held her in a tender embrace, cherishing the rise and fall of her chest, the heat of her body against his. “I want you, Emilie….always.”

She looked up at him, eyes scanning his face and luxuriating in his presence. She’d missed him so. 

“I want that too, Vlad,” she breathed, cupping his cheek in her hand and running her thumb over the plump, tender flesh of his lower lip. Dracula’s eyes fluttered shut and his lips parted. With a playful growl he lunged forward and captured her thumb in a blunt edged bite. Emilie jumped and squeaked in surprise before settling back into his arms. 

His face grew serious, “But do you understand what I mean? When I say ‘always’...?”

Emilie felt suddenly bashful and murmured her answer, “You want to make me...like you?”

“Yes, my little human. You will be magnificent. A prodigy. Fed from my own veins for so long, how could you not? But we’ll need to go away for a time...perhaps the Highlands, I own a lovely little castle that would do nicely. You see, it’s been my experience that vampires need some time to adjust after the change. You’d never forgive me if I let you become overwhelmed with blood lust and drink your own mother…”

Emilie shuddered at the image he’d created, “But you don’t...you seem to be able to control it…”

Dracula smiled encouragingly down at her. He didn’t want to scare her away, but he needed her to understand.

“Well…,” he sighed, “I am a lot older than you, darling. But I promise it won’t be forever. You’ll just need a little time and my guidance and then, if you want, we can return to visit or to stay…”

She said yes. Yes to all of it. Yes to him. Forever. She was afraid of losing herself and of something going wrong. But her passion for him was more than she could bear and she’d prefer death in his arms than a long life apart.

She thought of little else during their journey. Vlad was forced to ride in the storage car for much of the train ride. They laughed about it as she sealed him away in the oblong box, so like a coffin that Emilie’s breath caught in her throat and her eyes pricked with tears once the final nail was hammered. The idea of her lover shut away by himself was so melancholy. She leaned down and placed a kiss on the wooden slats, right over his heart and whispered, “I love you.”

Dracula answered her by knocking three times on the inside of the box. I. Love. You. Her lips curled in a brittle smile and she marveled at the bizarre love affair in which she’d found herself.

Alone in the train car she had ample opportunity to question herself, to miss her mother, to worry about what was to come. But when she thought of her Count...the way he touched her with a heady mix of ferocity and tenderness...she felt her resolve strengthen. He was hers and she would have him forever. She felt deep down that it was fated to be this way.

***

Dracula stopped her with a hand on her arm before she could cross the threshold into their new home. With a wicked grin and a flourish of his cape he scooped her into his arms and carried her, bridal-style, inside the massive entry hall. Emilie squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. 

“You’re so…” she trailed off, shaking her head. She’d never seen him so carefree.

“I’m happy,” he murmured, dropping a slow, languid kiss on her lips as he released her to stand beside him. “What do you think of your castle, Emilie?”

She swallowed against the lump in her throat that formed at his words. It was absurd! She’d gone from a lowly servant to an unemployed lowly servant to the mistress of a grand old castle and the bride-to-be of a noble vampire. It was all too much to take in and she felt tears well in her eyes as she surveyed the grand hall around her. The ceilings vaulted overhead, shadows pooling in the corners. The walls were decked with elaborate tapestries decorated in swirling Pictish symbols and landscape scenes. A winding staircase led up to a gallery on the second floor and arched doorways on either side of the room opened to the rest of the castle.

“It’s beautiful, Vlad,” she answered.

The driver followed them inside and placed their trunks off to the side, keeping his head down all the time.

“Thank you, Mr. Chambers,” Dracula said, waving his hand to dismiss the old man. Emilie saw the look of relief on his face as he turned on his heel and fled back outside. Dracula seemed to have a bit more of a reputation in these parts…

“Rural superstitions,” he remarked, catching the thoughtful look on Emilie’s face. “They have no idea what I am...or what you’ll soon be. They’re only suspicious of outsiders and my name is...rather exotic.”

She nodded her understanding and watched as he picked up a sheet of paper from an accent table by the door and read its contents, a smile spread over his lips, “Excellent. Mr. Renfield has made arrangements for dinner. They should be arriving later tonight…”

Emilie shivered at his words but she squared her shoulders and raised her eyes to meet his gaze, determined not to shy away from the realities of her new life.

Life came from life, she reminded herself. Dracula stepped into her space and ducked down to lay kisses along her brow. 

“My darling Emilie,” he whispered into her hair. “Are you ready?”

***

He led her by the hand up the winding staircase and along the dimly lit gallery to the master bedroom at the end of the hallway. Inside she found that the room was already furnished and decorated in a fashion very similar to his chamber at Carfax. A massive bed dominated the room, piled with lush fabrics and furs. They settled down into the luxurious nest. Dracula leaned back on his elbows, his body language loose and casual. Emilie sat up against the headboard with her hands clasped together in her lap. He regarded her with a hint of the old predatory gleam in his eyes. She was trembling worse than the first time they met and Dracula felt a sudden, unwelcome clench around his heart. He didn’t want her afraid. He never wanted her to be afraid again.

He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her, resting his head on her shoulder and whispering, “Shhh...Emilie. We’re not going to do anything unless you want to, alright?”

Emilie took in a shaky breath and nodded her head, “I know, Vlad. I trust you.”

The vampire felt his chest swell with pride that he’d earned this fragile beauty’s love and trust. Even after everything, his cruelty and betrayal, she still loved him. He stroked his hand over her back and cooed soft, comforting words to her. He felt the tension in his body relax as he did so. He needed this moment as much as Emilie did. For there was still that nagging, intrusive fear in the back of his mind. What if? What if it didn’t work? He’d downplayed that possibility to her before. But she needed to know. 

“Do you want me to tell you what will happen?” he asked, sitting up and shifting until he was holding her against his cold chest. 

Emilie curled her fist against his chest and closed her eyes, pleased with the rumble of his voice against her cheek, “Tell me.”

“Before I can do this thing, you need to fully understand. And when you understand I will ask you once more if you wish to join me...to be my bride. Alright?”

His tone was somber and Emilie opened her eyes to look up at him and respond, “I understand, Vlad. Tell me.”

He took an unnecessary breath, tightened his grip on her little body, and spoke, “In order to become like me...a vampire...first you must die. For you to be born anew, sweet Emilie, I must take your life. I will bite you and drink your blood. It will be like it always has been; I won’t let it hurt. This time, though, I will drink you dry. I’ll take your blood until there is nothing left to give and you’ll be dead. Now, this you need to understand: I can’t be certain that you will rise again. I’ve taken every possible precaution. I’ve fed you my blood to make you stronger and to build the bond between us but...there is a chance that when I kill you...it will be final.”

She could hear the anguish in his voice as he spoke and she felt it even stronger through their bond. He was afraid. Just as afraid as she was. She felt as if they were standing on the edge of a precipice together, about to jump. If Dracula jumped he would fly on the wind, landing safe and sound. Would she take his hand, uncertain if his power would protect her?

She propped herself up on her elbow and looked down into his soft, bottomless gaze, “My Count. You think I haven’t considered the risk? I’ve thought of little else since we left Carfax. I’m afraid. I know you can feel my fear just as I can feel yours. But...I’m ready. I’ve thought it through and I want to be yours, Dracula. And I want you to be mine. I can’t truly have you any other way. Please.”

Dracula smiled down at her and captured her lips in a searing kiss, pressing his body flush against hers as he plundered her sweet, hot mouth. No one but Emilie had ever understood this simple fact. The only way to bond with another--to claim them and know them as lovers must--was through death. 

He pulled away, panting with the effect of the kiss and the borrowed heat of her body, “I’ll hold you in my arms until you wake up.”

Tears pricked her eyes and she nodded, “I love you, Vlad.”

He brushed the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear before replying, “I love you, my bride.”

And then he leaned down into the crook of her neck and sank his fangs into the tender, warm skin. Emilie’s blood pulsed over his tongue and it sang with love, longing and devotion. What had he done to deserve this dear creature? He cradled her head in the palm of his hand as he drank, stroking his fingers through her hair as the sweet nectar of her life drained away. He felt her body start to sag, relaxing into the final sleep. The blood was coming slower and it was thicker and more concentrated as if it came from her soul itself. He drank it all even as tears pooled in his eyes and ran down his cheeks. Her precious heart beat slowed, staggered and then finally...stopped. 

Dracula pulled away, his mouth hanging open as he groaned in pleasure. Emilie’s life’s blood stained his chin and lips. He swallowed the final drops and clutched the girl’s limp corpse to his chest, clinging to her like a life preserver and praying to a God that he had no right to address. Please...please...my dear one…

He looked down at her little face. All the color had drained from her cheeks and her lips were blue. She felt heavy and lifeless in his arms even as he felt the thrill of her blood race through his own veins. He just held her, staring down at her ashen face and willing her to wake up. He chastised himself, trying to temper his impatience. He’d done this before and it had sometimes taken hours for a new vampire to awake. He must not despair...but he’d hoped that the gift of his blood would ease the transition somewhat…

Minutes passed and his lover still lay lifeless in his arms. He started to rock her gently and whisper to her, talking of all the things she had to look forward to if she’d just return to him. Not just blood and power...but a life together. In a moment of panic he reached out and tried to feel the bond, the strand of energy forged between them. He tugged at it with his mind and tried to send all his love and hope and fear through the connection to reach her wherever she was.

Dracula’s face was pressed against the wound on her neck, tears falling and mixing with the blood, when Emilie’s eyelids fluttered open at last. He felt it immediately, the change in her body, the vibrating, thrilling, aching presence of his lover through the blood bond. He pulled back and stared down at her in wonder and joy. 

Emilie looked up at him for a moment, unseeing and without understanding, before squinting her eyes shut and flinching against the harsh, vibrant assault on her senses. If she’d thought her abilities were heightened before they were now on a whole new level and it was painfully overwhelming. She moaned and writhed in his arms. Dracula wrapped her in a fierce hug and ran his hands over her back.

“Shhh...my beautiful, amazing girl. It’s alright. It will pass…”

It was minutes or hours or days later when Emilie finally relaxed into his hug and nuzzled her face into his chest with a purr of affection. Her first words since waking were muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

Dracula pulled back a bit, “Did you speak, Emilie?”

She looked back at him and he saw with a swoop in his stomach that it really was her. The transition had been kind and she seemed in full possession of herself as she answered, “I said I love you, Count Dracula.”

He smiled and pulled her against him in a fierce, aggressive embrace, letting go just a bit of his control over his vampiric strength to show her how good, how wonderful it would be now between them. He kissed her lips, her chin, her neck. He marveled that the wound was now nothing but a faint scar. He hadn’t had nearly enough of her but he knew his new little vampire would be thirsty after her transformation.

“I believe dinner should be arriving shortly, dear one,” he murmured against her lips. “We should get ready.”

“Yes!” she nearly shrieked and then looked abashed. The mere thought of blood had sent a spike of pleasure and lust through her stronger than anything she’d felt as a human. It was honestly frightening. 

Dracula felt her embarrassment and confusion through their bond and he shushed her, “It’s nothing to feel ashamed of, Emilie. This will be your life now, sweet girl. I’ll show you the way.”

After they’d dressed for the evening and were making their way down the grand staircase Emilie turned to her Count and asked playfully, “Shall I set the table tonight...milord?”

Dracula’s eyes glinted in amusement, “No, Emilie, I don’t think that will be necessary any more.”

The End.

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[v-thinks-on]

Six Feet Apart

Note: Now for something a little bit different. I didn’t expect to write quarantine fic, but I was thinking about how Jeeves and Wooster usually keep a little bit of physical distance between them, and was wondering if actually being forced to keep that distance might change things, and so this happened.

There was no way around it; old Bertram had fallen ill. I went to bed a little early the night before, a little scratchy, perhaps, but no worse for the wear, and woke up feeling like I’d been bowled over by a freight train. I shivered and ached and felt like I was made of lead - all together not a pleasant picture by any means. Now, I’m a usually healthy fellow, but I’d heard from Jeeves - and you know how he keeps up on everything - that the flu wasn’t just in Spain, and it was only a matter of time before it came around to our neck of the woods. I’d already known a couple fellows who fell ill, but they were just some distant acquaintances - uncle of a friend of a cousin sort of thing - I never thought it would come knocking at my door.

But there I was, pilled up under every blanket in the house - Jeeves tells me I had a fever of a hundred and three - hacking up a storm. The doctor was called in post-haste, of course, medicine was doled out, and orders were given that no one was to approach my person unless absolutely necessary for fear of contagion. I would like to hope that Jeeves put up at least a bit of a fight in the old feudal spirit, but in the end, the doctor’s wisdom won out and I was consigned to languish on my lonesome.

To tell the truth, the better part of a week passed in hazy delirium, and even now I only recall a few passing moments and couldn’t tell you if they were real or just dreamed up. But eventually, one morning - or rather late afternoon - I managed to sit up on my own, rubbed the sleep from my eyes, and had the wherewithal to wonder when Jeeves would come in with the oolong.

To my rather indignant surprise, Jeeves did not appear shortly with the oolong. I was eventually greeted by a nurse, who examined me from a distance like I was a pregnant rhinoceros. Her mouth and nose were covered so we didn’t even have to breathe the same air. It was she, I believe, who informed me that, despite my recovery, I was to remain under quarantine for the foreseeable future - at least what felt like the foreseeable future, and a little while beyond it - and that no, Jeeves would not be coming with my morning tea.

I don’t mind a little peace and quiet, but by the time they finally let me out of that flat I had just about gone bad. I never realized just how small it was and it’s never felt quite so miniscule since. That first breath of fresh, unfiltered air, as I stepped out onto the street at long last, was like a breath of life. I strode along, cane in hand, feeling like a new man, beaming and waving at everyone I passed - maybe I had gone a bit barmy, but at the time I didn’t have it in me to care.

My luck had turned, and it wasn’t over yet, because I was just strolling down the way, not a care in the world, when I nearly ran straight into the man I most wanted to see. Of course, Jeeves shimmered out of the way just in time, but I caught him round the shoulder before he had made too much distance between us. Now, I’m generally not a clingy sort. I can entertain myself well enough, and Jeeves and I are usually content to exist with a comfortable distance between us, but after a few weeks of being tip-toed around like Aunt Agatha when she’s on a roll, a fellow can get a little lonely.

“Sir?” he asked in a most disapproving way, but he must not have minded too much, because he didn’t move away.

“They’ve set me free at last!” I proclaimed, steering him toward the park.

“Yes, I am aware,” Jeeves answered drily. “It was my intention to return to the flat and return it to a habitable state.”

I waved it off. “Oh pish! It’s too nice a day to waste inside! You’ve got to tell me about everything I’ve missed while I was locked away.”

“Very well, sir,” Jeeves said, and resigned himself to the perfect weather and my gregarious company.

Eventually we meandered back to the flat, and Jeeves set about tidying up in his usual fashion. I was content to just sit back and watch him work for a while, relishing the sight of everything back in its place. I glanced at the latest paper that Jeeves had been kind enough to fetch for me in town, but it only held my attention for so long. Jeeves had moved on to the kitchen by the time I tossed the paper aside, so I ambled in to join him. I wasn’t a common visitor to Jeeves’s lair, and he seemed a little surprised to see me as I stepped through the doorway that separated his domain from mine.

“Sir?” he said, his attention torn between me and the food cooking on the stove.

“Don’t mind me,” I insisted, “Just wondering what’s for dinner.” I took in a deep breath and it really did smell delish, especially after what felt like ages of living off of whatever I managed to scrounge up. I’d almost forgotten what a real meal tasted like.

“I hope it’s to your liking, sir,” Jeeves said, but he was smiling a little, like he did whenever I finally noticed his latest feat.

“Absolutely!” I exclaimed, drifting a little closer to take it in. I leaned over Jeeves’s shoulder until I nearly bumped up against him and I had a sudden desire to press closer still, but I knew better than to encroach.

As it was, Jeeves glanced my way, but he didn’t seem to mind.

So, I lingered, watching him put the finishing touches on my dinner with well practiced ease. I didn’t dare go near the stove myself; we’d had one early disagreement and that had been the end of that.

At last, Jeeves jarred me back into the present - “Sir, if you would wait in the dining room, I will be out momentarily.”

“Right ho!” I exclaimed, never one to argue, and did as I was bid.

I didn’t have long to wait before Jeeves shimmered out with the daily bread. He laid it all out on the table and asked, “Is there anything else you require, sir?”

“No,” I said, but as he began to fade out just as quietly as he appeared, the whole room started to feel a little sparse and empty - a little less lively without his presence to fill it up, if you see what I mean. So, on a bit of a rummy impulse, I called out, “Jeeves, you could join me, if you wanted to. For dinner, I mean.”

He turned sharply to face me, and for a moment I could have sworn he was going to say yes, but that feeling was gone like a flash. He only said, “Thank you, that’s very generous of you, sir,” before receding into his lair.

Dinner was fine, but after that, I sort of gulped it down. While Jeeves cleared up the table, I meandered over the piano. I had played around a little while I had the place to myself, but it just wasn’t the same.

Now, I started with gusto on one of the old favorites:

“In the land of San Domingo,

“Lived a girl called Oh! by Jingo,

“Ja da Ja da da da da da, ump-a, ump-a, ump-a, ump-a...”

Sure enough, Jeeves came drifting in, looking a little less than pleased.

I finished up the chorus before calling it a wrap. Instead, I asked, “Jeeves, what was that clever song you picked up?” I tried humming a snatch of it, though the old cranium was a little foggy on what it sounded like.

But, of course, Jeeves was undaunted by garbled melodies. With a polite, “If I may?” he sat down beside me at the piano and had it in no time. It was all I could do to keep up with the harmony - though I may have first taken a moment to inch a little closer on the bench.

Jeeves finished with a flourish and I burst into applause. “Brilliant!”

“That’s very kind, sir,” he said with a little bow. He looked rather pleased with himself.

We paused for a little while before the next set. Jeeves looked as fresh as ever, of course, but after all that exertion, I was feeling a little winded - perhaps I wasn’t quite back to my old self after all. I tipped over a little and my head found Jeeves’s shoulder; a nice comfortable place to rest for a moment or so.

For a while, Jeeves didn’t say anything, content as we were, I suppose. I think I may have dozed, because I started a little when he asked, “Sir, is everything alright.”

I forced myself upright, feeling rather top-heavy. “I’d say so,” I attempted. “Just a little tired all of a sudden, but I’ll be right as rain in a jiffy.” At least, that was what I tried to say, but the last word was interrupted by a large yawn.

“I see,” Jeeves said rather dubiously. “I can demonstrate another piece tomorrow, if that would be to your liking.”

I brightened immediately. “I’d say!”

“Very good, sir.” Jeeves pushed back the piano bench a little and got to his feet, but he remained hovering by the piano. “Do you require any assistance?”

I shook my head and braced my hands against the piano bench, readying them to push me to my feet. “I think I’ll be alright. Thank you, Jeeves.”

He wasn’t fooled. But, with a tremendous shove, I managed to get myself upright, and I walked confidently toward the master bedroom with hardly a totter, though my legs felt rather laden. Jeeves drifted after all the while.

I got as far as the tall mirror in the bedroom and began fumbling with my cufflinks, cursing all the many layers of my raiment.

“Might I be of assistance?”

I had nearly forgotten he was there, he’d been so quiet, and jumped a little at the interjection. My wardrobe wasn’t usually so complicated that I needed help with it, but my arms had gone all stiff and heavy, and there was something that seemed rather pleasant about the whole idea after being without Jeeves for so long, so I answered with an enthusiastic, “Righto!”

I held up my wrists and Jeeves efficiently undid the cuffs before taking a step closer and moving on to my waistcoat. Each movement was quick and precise, like everything else Jeeves does. I’ve often thought he could have done a zillion things with that brain of his, and maybe I’d spent too much time surrounded by doctors, but all I could think was that he’d make an incredible surgeon with hands like those, but there he was helping me instead. A thing like that warms a fellows heart. After spending a few long weeks feeling like I was alone in the world, here was Jeeves to remind me I wasn’t alone at all.

He was done in a jiffy and then it was off to bed. I could hardly keep my eyes open as Jeeves covered me in blankets to keep out the chill.

“Good night, sir,” he said, before turning off the light.

“G’night Jeeves.” I fought off the tendrils of Morpheus long enough to say, “It’s good to have you back.”

“It’s good to be back, sir.”

Before he could drift into the other room, I reached out and somehow my hand found his. I just gave it a quick squeeze of a reassuring sort, maybe to assure myself he was there, and then at last, I surrendered to sleep.