#itendedbadly

[itendedbadly]

Invited In

An explanation: So, the reader is going through her fertile cycle, and this thought came to me and I couldn’t leave it alone, so here you are. It’s un-beta’d, purely self-indulgent, and yeah that was an unintentional throwback to Twilight listen it was an accident. Honestly, I wrote this because I’m a horny bitch for Claes Bang and his role in BBC’s Dracula and needed an outlet for my fantasies, no I won’t apologize, and I really like imagining him saying dirty things because his voice really gets to me.

Pairing: Dracula x reader

Tags: Mentions of blood and gore, dirty talk, sexual reference, the reader is not technically his servant freely?, Dracula has a super-nose, honestly the reader should’ve just gone to bed

Wordcount: 2.3k

Summary: “You daft girl,” his voice was a low growl.

Another inhale and a heavy groan vibrated against you.

“Your smell, it makes me want to eat that sweet cunt of yours.”

Three years. It was a long three years you’d been with the Count, helping with personal affairs and just overall trying not to get in his way. The last thing you wanted to be was a nuisance considering his allowance of your stay in his condo ever since the unfortunate circumstance of your accidentally viewing his “extra-curricular” activities. Well, “allowing” you to stay was a bit of an exaggeration. The terms of your agreement not to kill you were that you kept his secret and stayed in his home to help him adapt to the different climate of the present date. This included the management of his social media presence as well as introducing modern fixtures into his lovely home (the television heralded an immediate fascination from Dracula as well as, surprisingly, detachable shower heads).

Now, if someone asked you how you felt about said arrangement (which they didn’t) you would say that while preferable to the alternative, it didn’t come without its hazards. Such hazards including: Constant fear that the slightest mistake will lead to death, the constant degrading reminder from the Count that the slightest mistake could lead to death (should the mood take him), and that no matter how hard you tried, you could never escape. What you wanted was and shall remain irrelevant to him, because how could such a selfish creature ever contemplate the desires of a young, empty-headed girl. Or rather, that’s what he labelled you in his mind, if he ever spared a thought for you at all. Though, you had an inkling that he cared for you more than he let on. If you ever said something particularly clever, or helped to solve an issue weighing on his mind, he would sometimes afford you the same kind of glance an owner would for their pet after doing a trick with no training.

It was this idea that brought a sly grin to your lips while picking up a towel and left-over pieces of clothing Dracula had, again, left on the floor of his master bedroom. Contrary to popular belief, brought about by his well put-together demeanor, the Count was, in fact, a bit of a slob. Constantly forgetting things or just throwing others away out of disinterest, it left you to clean up the mess. Though, you made it known that you drew the line at any piece of clothing or linen with a blood-stain on it. The idea of who it may have belonged to often left you feeling queasy and remorseful for serving such an unempathetic master. Though, you would never admit to his face that you thought of him as such, either unempathetic or as your master. Any scrap of power you could successfully keep him from holding over you, you would.

You’re brought out of your now slightly-dreary musings as the door slams downstairs. Uh-oh. The Count had been in a dreadful mood for the past few days, with no explanation as to why, but it seemed the mere sight of you made it worse. Quickly, you threw what you were holding into the dirty laundry basket and tried to slip to your room, where you would often find your sanctuary when Dracula had said something particularly harsh. You didn’t make it more than a few steps before you heard your name being called in a tone conveying urgency. Your chest swelled and deflated in a heavy sigh as you made your way downstairs. It wasn’t halfway down when you heard Dracula conversing with someone, presumably over the phone since there was no other discernible voice. It took some strength not to meekly peek around the corner of the bottom of the stairs before rounding into the spacious living room.

“Yes, I said that’s what I wanted. No, you don’t need to come my home and further discuss the details.” It seemed you were catching the tail-end of a conversation between him and his lawyer. “Alright, I’m hanging up now, yes, yes, yes, goodbye.” The Count brought the phone slowly away from his ear, and faintly you could hear the sounds of someone struggling to be heard before the call was cut off.

“Y/N, come here a moment. I need you to dispatch of my profile on this particular dating website.” Sigh. Seemed Tinder hadn’t worked out, then, a matter most definitely having been brought up by his lawyer. You reluctantly made your way to the laptop sitting, already opened, on the coffee table. With a few mouse clicks and password entries for confirmation, the Tinder profile was deleted and with it, any trace of how Dracula was finding his victims.

A cold presence settling in behind you made you aware that your actions were being closely observed, and that, if you wanted, a single step back would press you to the vampire, back to front. An errant thought you swept away with a quick shake of your head.

“Are you displeased with my orders?” You quickly turned your chin over your shoulder to address the Count, hoping to dispel any ideas he had towards your dissatisfaction.

“No, sir.” Nothing further was needed, and you hoped he would leave the thoughtless action alone. And, it seemed to be so, since you felt his presence fade and heard soft footsteps to the couch, where he sat down heavily.

“I think tonight will be a quiet one, so you may dismiss yourself to your bedroom.”

Now this, this was odd. It seemed the ever-energetic supernatural being was … worn down. Considering this, what you should have done was thank him and immediately start to the stairs, and then head down the opposite hallway to his, towards your own room for some quiet, personal time. Instead, you couldn’t help the words that practically fell out of your mouth.

“Do you- I mean, are you alright, sir?” The Count didn’t seem to pay any attention to the oddness of your actually questioning his orders, and merely waved a large, pointy-nailed hand in your direction in a clear sign of ‘go away’.

“Don’t bother your pretty little head over it and run along like a good girl.” A flush tried to make its way onto your cheeks, but you successfully stifled it and calmed your heart rate with gentle breaths, so as to not let him know how much those two words actually affected you.

You gave a hesitant nod, even though he wasn’t actually looking at you and made your way past his figure, towards the stairs. Just as you dropped your shoulders and let a long breath past your lips, you felt a hand of icy fingers wrapped like steel around your wrist. With a gasp, you looked back to see that Dracula had nearly lifted himself off the sofa, bending away from it and towards you in his, clearly, unplanned grab of your wrist. Even his eyes seemed to widen a little, taking in what he had done. You looked at his face, expecting another command, but instead found that he would not meet your eyes, merely staring at his own, apparently-traitorous, hand. In a movement that screamed the effort of prying off a metal beam, he released your own appendage finger by finger. The vampire turned his head away, clearly waiting for your departure, but you just stood there, staring at him.

In three years, you had not seen this sort of behavior from him in any way or form. Maybe he was ill, did vampires even get ill? Maybe he was finally getting too old, and he was not, in fact, immortal. In any case, the smart thing to do would have been excuse the action and head back to your room regardless. However, smart wasn’t a word you would use to describe yourself, brave certainly, but not smart.

“Is there anything else I can do for you, Count?”

Almost as if speaking was too much effort, his lips parted and closed again, resulting in him turning his entire body away from you. You admired the broadness of his shoulders from this heightened angle, and the always well-styled black locks on his head. You didn’t want to presume the meaning behind his actions, all too aware that jumping to conclusions could not only break your heart, but lose you your life. In a bold move that you normally would never even consider, you placed your hand on his shoulder and let out a shaky breath at the firmness of his frame, unable to help yourself imagining it placed against you. But, even as you thought about it, the muscles beneath your hand began to relax and almost sag down onto him. Well, you had certainly never considered it possible that you could help the Count relax in any way. Even so, you drew your hand back and made a few steps to circle towards the older man’s front. What you saw took your breath from your lungs like a punch in the chest.

Pupils surrounded by red and elongated teeth were exposed in a pained grimace, as if he were holding himself back. Quickly realising that you had placed yourself into a precarious position you stepped back, only for a low growl to rumble out of Dracula’s chest. You froze, not wanting to further upset him.

“If- uh, if you’re hungry I could go out, maybe bring someone home.” It wouldn’t be the first time you had asked someone on the street to come back with you, to help you with something, only for them to become the main course for the beastial man in front of you, however guilty it left you feeling.

“I’m not hungry” the words left him in a choked manner, “for food.”

“Oh, ah, well. Um, what exactly could I do to help you, sir?”

“You could leave to your room, run away, this very moment.”

You felt a swell of hurt rise in your chest, was your very presence so distasteful and unwanted to him?

“Have I done something wrong, sir? Do I disgust you?” The words slipped past your lips without permission, yet you let them embolden you and took a few steps forward so that your knees nearly touched him in his near-crouch position.

You could tell he was holding his breath, though the reason for why did not make itself clear to you. Maybe, you had a bad smell lingering on you somewhere? Surely, nothing to call forth this sort of reaction. You waited for him to reprimand you for your behavior, or to even threaten you with the end of your agreement, but he didn’t make a sound, to prevent any sort of intake of air.

With red staining your neck and collarbones, working its way onto your cheeks you asked, “Do I smell bad or something?” A quick sniff to your wrist and hair proved useless, you smelled the same as usual.

At your actions he huffed out what might’ve been a laugh, if he hadn’t breathed back in on habit, the air seeming to get stuck in his throat. A loud snarl wrenched the air and his hands appeared on your hips, with a grip tight enough you were sure you’d see bruises later.

You tried to pull away in fear, despite knowing that the motion would prove obsolete, and felt a shiver run up your back. This was it, you didn’t know what you’d done or what you’d been thinking, but this was it, the end of your agreement, and subsequently, your life.

A pitiful whimper left you as his head nodded forward to rest against your lower stomach and he inhaled heavily, like he would never breathe again.

“You daft girl,” his voice was a low growl, “It’s your scent, darling. But, you don’t smell repulsive.” Another inhale and a heavy groan vibrated against you, where you felt warmth start to pool in your abdomen. “Your smell, it’s divine. It makes me want to eat that sweet cunt of yours.”

A shock of arousal shot through you, and any sound you might’ve made got caught in your throat as he pressed firmer against you.

“Once a month, sweetheart,” he started, “Once a month, I can smell how your wet pussy longs to be filled with my aching cock, and every month it gets harder and harder to deny how much I need it.”

His words shouldn’t make you feel as if you are on fire, but they do, and your excitement leaps with every word from his mouth. And, as he lifts his head to make eye contact with you, you know he can see in your eyes just how turned on you are, if he couldn’t already smell it. His lips tug up on one side of his face, and though what he said was filthy, his face seemed to relax as if talking about something as mundane as the weather.

“It’s unusual for someone like me to crave something other than the richness in your veins, but I’ve also never lived with someone living for a prolonged period of time.” He rose slowly to tower over you, “Or maybe,” you felt one of his sharp claws run across your bottom lip gently while looking into his rich brown eyes, “Maybe, you’re just special, hm?” A shimmer of mirth.

Finally, you caught your breath, but couldn’t make your brain put enough words together to make sense.

“I, um- What- Do you, uh-”

“No, no, no,” he shushes you in a sweet manner, though you knew what lay behind it, “No talking, now. I just need one thing.” His head dipped to bring his face closer to yours, and you knew you would be more than happy to oblige to whatever he wanted from you.

“I need an answer, just one, got that, sweet girl?” A sharp nod of your head.

“Good, you’re so good for me, aren’t you?” He cleared his throat, and spoke with clear intent, “Now, may I come in?”

Each word was pronounced slowly, and you knew by the look in his eyes exactly what you would be agreeing to. A moment’s consideration wasn’t need, because you had your answer long before he asked the question.

“Yes, Count Dracula, please come inside.”

[thebeautyofdisorder]

The Undone & The Divine (BBC Dracula) - Chapter 3

A/N: Okay, here’s finally a third chapter to this. Thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on the first two parts! This one is fairly short but it leads to somewhere more fun, I promise. 

First two Chapters Here

Fanvid I posted earlier also right HERE if you want to see

Rating: T, for blood and maybe language

Pairing: Dracula & Zoe/Agatha Van Helsing

Can be found on AO3 - Right HERE -

Chapter 3

“Has anyone ever told you what horrible taste you have?” 

Frank startled out of an already fitful sleep, his vision blurry as he squinted into the dark at the tall shadow looming in front of his wardrobe, hearing more than seeing the disappointed frown that no doubt graced his face. 

“Actually, yes,” He replied with a nervous chuckle, blindly grasping until he found his glasses atop his bedside table, and flicked on his lamp as well, flooding the room with warm light. 

The vampire, now looking far more like his normal self despite being stark nude and dripping water on the rug, let out a soft tut of disappointment, rifling with audible impatience through the contents until he finally seemed to be settling for a pale grey button down and a pair of rather expensive trousers that he had tucked away in the far back of the closet. 

“I could go fetch some of your clothes from your flat, if you’d like,” he offered brightly, though immediately regretted speaking, as Dracula turned on him with a stern expression. 

“No.”

“Of course,” Renfield squeaked in response, suddenly feeling cold despite the duvet still covering his lower half.

“You are not to go there. I will do that later.”

Truth be told, the count wasn’t sure if he would. His first instinct, the instinct that had kept him alive all these years was telling him he should cut ties with the place and not go back, much as he had done before when he’d been exposed for what he was. But given recent developments – was there even anything worth running from? Honestly, an illegal research facility and a love-sick doctor in training – he’d dealt with so much worse. 

No, he supposed, as he pulled on the trousers, not bothering with rifling through Renfield’s underwear drawer - god only knew what he kept in there - what he was really dreading had nothing to do with existential fear. It was going back after a week of sleep and finding Zoe’s corpse rotting on his dinner table. What a maudlin image. Tragic really – a waste of a mind. Two minds, it would seem. Or worse, finding that she had woken up, only to become some incoherent waste of flesh as well, and having to kill her again. It was never any fun, the second time, even in the best of circumstances. 

There were ways to check, of course. He could usually feel them, his brides. When they woke, when they fed. He had been out of it for days however. He could’ve missed it, and the curiosity was gnawing at him almost as much as the hunger. Renfield had been bringing him sustenance, of course, but nothing could compete with getting it straight from the tap, as it were. He had a hankering for something young and hopeful, usually did the trick when he was out of sorts – though he had a feeling he needed to venture outside of London proper to find it. First thing first, however.

“I’m going out, I’ve called someone in about the mess, they should arrive bright and early,” the count assured the wary man still huddled in his bedclothes. “Don’t concern yourself with an explanation, I informed them that there had been an unfortunate accident and that you really didn’t want to talk about it.” He gave a conspiratorial, if half-hearted, grin as he pulled on the shirt. 

“No guarantee they still won’t assume you’re a murderer, but you should be able to get to work without an interrogation.”

Renfield looked both shocked and relieved. “Oh master, that’s so… kind of you.” He practically winced even as the words left his mouth. Would that be considered an affront to a vampire? 

Dracula’s brows lowered over his eyes. “Hm,” he breathed,  taking that development into consideration. “Yes, yes it is, isn’t it? Goodnight Frank.”

—–

For a while, Zoe felt shockingly normal. As normal as she could even remember, anyway. Given her entire life had been a extended familial nightmare that she’d inherited from her very abnormal family, she supposed the least she could expect was better than nothing. She didn’t feel like she was about to throw up (yet), a ghost (if that’s what she was) wasn’t currently trying to dictate her actions, and her whole body didn’t hurt. Ignoring the fact she’d recently died, all was going very well. 

At least that’s what she thought, up until she felt the hairs on the back of her neck begin to rise, despite the otherwise warm air. 

The logician in her immediately checked her surroundings, observing every individual within ten feet of her and yet found nothing of alarm. Still, the feeling lingered on the rest of the afternoon, keeping Zoe ill at ease all through sundown, and beyond. 

Something was different, and she thought she might know what it was.

Excusing herself from the presence of her colleague, who despite her clear concern did not protest, Zoe hurried out to the street and began walking until she saw a cab.

She sincerely hoped they took credit cards.

——

As someone who only breathed when he had a season to, it took a certain level of effort to draw in the first dreaded inhale of air through his nose once Dracula got off the elevator and approached the door of his flat. If there was one thing he knew well, it was the scent of decay. It was a distinctive, sickening sweet aroma in the early stages that devolved as time went on into an all-encompassing miasma. It didn’t nauseate him anymore, not for centuries, but he felt himself recoil in preparation for it nonetheless.

He let the breathe out slowly. Nothing. 

Even with the modern joys of air conditioning, he would smell a corpse - undead or otherwise. Even if it had been removed, there would be traces. And yet…

He pressed his nose into the crack of the door frame, sniffing in earnest now, like a hound trying to pick up a lost trail. 

There was still a lingering hint of the sharpness of blood, but death was not a house guest of his this evening. His lips twitched at the corners, a perplexed smile flitting over his features. 

The door was unlocked, and he pushed forward with no further hesitation. 

Inside all was dark and quiet. Exactly as he’d left it, blood stains and all, but any trace of Zoe was gone. He traced his hand over the table, feeling the raised rust colored smear where, by whatever means, the half-drained woman he’d left there had pushed herself up from death and, from all evidence presented, walked out of his home. 

“Have you lost something?”

—-

I’m going to do a taglist once more, of some people who’s stuff I’ve been nerding on and who showed interested in the first parts. Thanks much. If I missed you and you want to be added, let me know!

@my-fanfic-library @ohveda @imagineandimagine @wannabebloodsucker @hoefordarkness @mymagicsuitcase @crazytxgradstudent @itendedbadly @theplumsoldier @gatissed @allfandoms-writings @littlemessyjessi @punk-courtesan @vampiregirl1797 @gleefullyselfishreblogs @break-free-killer-queen @desperatefrenchwriter @bellamortislife

[undead-notunreasonable]

Ugh people need to find their chill. Not everything is someone else's cup of tea and also its childish and irrelevant to send hate -itendedbadly (cus it's my side blog)

Its 2020, it's just sad to send it!

[laysamina]

Sabah okumaları. Kahvaltı için biraz daha vakit varsa ne yapılır? Kitap okunur. #böylemiolacaktı #tarihteizbırakan13ayrılık #jenniferwright #zeynepyeşiltuna #domingo #pazarhalleri #okumahalleri #itendedbadly #sundaymood #bookworm #bookstagram (Çanakkale, Turkey)

[crowley-needs-a-hug]

@hoefordarkness @itendedbadly @my-fanfic-library

Dracula married the reader back in Victorian times and turns her. When he returns he finds her again and shocks everyone with the fact that he is married. Maybe as sexy as you’ll go?

SMUT! I already wrote out the smut chapter for my fic, so I have a bit of confidence in writing it (only a bit, you’ll have to give me feedback on if this is good or not). I’m doing my best.

When Dracula awoke after his long sleep in the sea. The first thing he noticed was how alone he was. He was glad he had made it to England, but at what cost?

The person most dearest to him wasn’t with him. He was alone.

That was until all the cars turned up and he came face to face with someone who looked very much like Agatha. He came to the conclusion that it was not, in fact, Agatha, but her descendant.

That didn’t change the fact he was missing his love.

Dracula ignored all of Zoe’s questions as he had one far more important to ask.

“My wife. Is she still in there?” He gestured to the water.

“You wife?” Zoe looked around at the others. “Was anyone aware of this information?” No one answered. “You mean there is another?”

“Yes, my beautiful wife. I turned her to spend eternity with her, and I have to admit I’m not to happy about the lack of her presence here.” If he found out they had done something to you, he wouldn’t be so friendly with them.

“No one else is down there. Only you.”

The first thing he did when he left them there on the shore was search for you. He was certain you had no perished. You were far too clever to let anything happen to you. He hadn’t found you when Zoe had caught up to him and he began to worry.

There was no doubt in his heart that you would not wait for him.

The whole he spent caged up like an animal, he asked constantly about if they had found you. Every time they came to him with an answer he didn’t like, he demanded they try harder. He couldn’t do much from his prison. Though once he grasped the tablet, he used it look up for any sign of you.

Nothing. A part of him was glad you were keeping quiet…. if you were out there.

Zoe, surprised to learn Dracula had a wife, had asked all sorts of questions, but his answers just consisted on beautiful you were and much he loved you. He couldn’t emphasise enough how important it was that he found you.

When he got out, thanks to his lawyer, he searched for you again. He became worried about you when he couldn’t find you.

It was Zoe who found you first. She knew it was you who he was looking for because you had asked for Dracula. You had heard from a third party that he had been here, but wasn’t any longer.

Zoe asked you to wait while they got hold of the vampire.

You looked so sad. You just wanted your husband. You had been so excited when you heard he had woken. You had woken a few years ago and been searching for him all this time, unaware he was still sleeping in the sea.

Dracula came as soon as he got word.

The moment his eyes landed on you, he swore he fell in love with you all over again. Neither one of you cared for you company as you made a mad dash for him. Dracula scooped you up in his long arms and kissed you there and then.

It felt so good to hold you again.

“It’s been so long.” He whispered against your lips.

“123 years to be exact.” You smiled. “I missed you, so much!”

He kissed you again.

Zoe had to look away, this was a very private moment.

“Come with me.” Dracula took your hand, other ideas going through his head. It had been too long since he last got share a moment with you like this.

Zoe wasn’t done asking about you. She wanted to know how he turned you, why he chose you as a wife. There was so much she wanted to know, but the look on his face told her it could wait. He clearly had other things on his mind.

Dracula took you back to his apartment. From the very second the door closed, he was all over you. His lips were drawn to yours in the most passionate kiss ever. A hundred years was a long time to go without your love, he had a lot of making up to do for it.

He led you to the bedroom, which he didn’t use. He had no used for the bed… until now.

The clothes coming off was a bit of a blur, both of you more focused on the feeling of each other. Dracula did take a second to look at you thought. You were stunning. You always had been.

His kisses trailed along your jaw, down to your neck, then your collarbone.

“I have missed this.” You whispered.

“Shh, let me pleasure you. I’ve kept you waiting long enough.”

He kissed lower and lower. You tipped your head back. The feeling of his lips on your body was absolute bliss.

You curled your fingers through his thick hair, savouring every touch.

Dracula brought his face back up to yours. He gazed at you with so much love. You could see how much he wanted you. He reached out to hold one of your hands, entwining his fingers with yours. He did not break eye contact with you as he pushed himself into you.

You gasped at the feeling, closing your eyes in bliss.

Dracula kissed along your neck as you tipped your head back.

“Let us never be a part ever again.” He muttered, starting slow. You moved your hips with him, turning your head to meet his lips. As he kissed you again, he picked up his pace.

Dracula never wanted to forget how good you felt against him. You were to live eternally with him, loving you was the easiest thing he could do for you. You completed him.

Every little noise you made added fuel to his desire. The look of bliss on your face stirred him to move faster. He pushed himself deeper into you, hitting that spot. Your moans only grew in volume.

The things you did to this man.

You gave his hand a squeeze as the knot in your stomach tightened.

“I love you.” You gasped out.

Dracula could only grin as he let those words sunk in. It had been too long since he last heard you say those words.

Your orgasm hit and held onto him for dear life as you rode it out. Dracula pressed himself against you tightly, thrusting a bit more and pressing harsh kisses against your skin.

As you came down from your high, Dracula turned his head so his lips brushed against your ear.

“I love you too, darling. Never leave my side again.”

“Not planning on it.” You made him look at you as you smiled up at him. “My handsome husband.”

“My beautiful wife.”

Let’s just say for several nights this kept up. Dracula wanted to feel you against him as much as he could.

You didn’t mind one bit.

Tags:

@awyr @fandombeehive @charmed-asylum  @sigynbandraoi-blog @procrastinatingmurder  @sitkafay

[faintingviolet]

#bookstagram #book 65 of the year, #ItEndedBadly. Authorial voice is just the right amount of facetious and "say what now?" Best for reading after work

[dvbx4mom]

#itendedbadly

[jailennard]

My photo of @jenashleywright being all gutsy and hilarious, just like her new book "It Ended Badly" (13 Worst Breakups In History). Just received my copy 📕💔 #itendedbadly

[megcarr13]

Got this looker in the mail today. I am VERY excited #itendedbadly

[smallgirls]

Breaking hearts and taking names 💔Hanging out at @strandbookstore with @51cachaca for @jenashleywright's book #ItEndedBadly (at Strand Book Store)

[thebeautyofdisorder]

The Undone & The Divine (BBC Dracula)

...Is now on AO3! Follow the link here to read it/follow it on AO3 if that’s your preferred method of keeping up with fics. 

If not you can find Chapters 1 & 2 Here on Tumblr

Chapter 3 Here

And Chapter 4 Here

Tag List: @charlesdances @bellamortislife @carydorse @break-free-killer-queen @imagineandimagine @my-fanfic-library @punk-courtesan @ohveda @wannabebloodsucker @hoefordarkness @mymagicsuitcase @crazytxgradstudent @itendedbadly @theplumsoldier @gatissed @allfandoms-writings @littlemessyjessi @vampiregirl1797 @desperatefrenchwriter @iloveclaesbang @ss9slb @dreamerkim @mephdcosplay @violetmarkey @alhoyin 

[tatsmcgee]

That ended badly.

A conversation that just happened: in my classroom.

While working on a shredding project in my workskills class, two students were discussing the need for new cell phones.

S1: I need to get a new phone cause mine sucks.

S2: Me, too, but my mom says don’t need a new one.

S1: That’s too bad. My mom spoils me and will buy me anything I want. Except stuffed animals. She did that once and it ended very badly.

Bell rings. Students leave.

It ended badly?!? How? For who? S1? Her parents? The stuffed animals ?

This may keep me up nights. :(

[thebeautyofdisorder]

The Undone & The Divine (BBC Dracula) - Chapter 4

A/N: Sorry for the cliffhanger, but chapter 4 is here! I really hope you like it. Whether i will leave it here (for now) or add on anymore immediately I’m not sure of, but I suppose we will see. Please let me know what you think! 

First two Chapters Here

Chapter 3 Is Here

Can be found on AO3 - Right HERE -

Rating: T, for blood and maybe language

Pairing: Dracula & Zoe/Agatha Van Helsing

Chapter 4

He'd felt her before he heard her, despite her best attempt at startling him, her form partially blocking out the beam of light projecting from the door he hadn't cared to close. It took more self-control than the Count would ever willingly admit to remain facing away from the source of the voice, if for no other reason than to keep his confusion as close to the vest as possible. He refused to be at a disadvantage again, with her more than anyone.

“Apparently we’ve both underestimated our own resilience,” he remarked, with faint amusement calling back to his comment from the last time they’d met, though he couldn’t rightly include the ‘vampire’ designation. She didn’t feel like a vampire, and yet she was certainly not the sick woman who he’d left for dead. 

“So it would seem,” Zoe agreed, taking a few steps inside despite the agitation she’d felt from a distance ramping up to a fever pitch now that she was actually in his presence. It wasn’t fear – he wasn’t likely to be any danger to her in her current state, not anymore. She was simply hyper-aware of Dracula, and it was causing a strange disconnect between her mind and her body. At least she’d assumed he was the cause of it, but now as she found herself approaching him for closer study, without any inherent want on her part, she wasn’t so sure he alone was to blame.

“Indestructible after all.”

“Yes, I’m afraid Death has turned out to be completely immune to my allure,” the vampire drawled in a good imitation of indifference, finally turning about to meet her approach, head tilting as he took her in with careful consideration.

“What?” She felt herself ask, feeling the weight of his focus drag on a moment too long for her liking.

Dracula ignored her question, approaching closer until she had to crane her neck to meet his gaze, an act she wasn’t accustomed to having to enact that often in her daily life. His hand lifted, brushing her hair off her neck to study the state of his bite. The wound was raised and slightly jagged, but shown white against her skin - evidence of rapid healing, yet no inflammation or scabbing. 

A clear sign of life – real life, in a woman he had murdered a week ago. A wry chuckle reverberated through his chest, previously so still that she could feel it like a distant earthquake.

“Of course it would be you.”

One sharp nail grazed the pierced flesh, and she stood rigid against the tremor that bloomed over her skin until his hand dropped, and his gaze flipped rapidly from probing to analytical. 

“Why though? Five centuries I’ve been trying to procreate, and it was rare enough I even got within the realm of close. Most recent attempt notwithstanding, perhaps Johnny, but he threw himself off a bloody cliff, and well – he didn’t exactly look very alive towards the end, did he?” he blurted with a scoff, the cogs of his mind whirring as he began to pace in front of the window. They were almost audible, tripping over the obvious until someone couldn’t resist the urge to prod the bear any longer.

“You haven’t figured it out yet? Honestly, Count, maybe you should’ve eaten more doctors.” 

Dracula’s eyes narrowed, catching the muted edge of Dutch hostility he had grown to know far too well over the last century, infuriation and amusement blending imperceptibly on his face. His lips parted, intent on snapping back, but just as quickly he stopped, shut his mouth and took a moment to think. Out of spite, of course.

Then it clicked. 

The count let out a loud guffaw of frustrated laughter, slapping his large hands down on the table with so much force Agatha was surprised it didn’t split down the middle. It was the least collected she had ever seen him outside of a blood frenzy, and it was at first difficult to tell if he were furious or enthused.

“Of course. My blood. Of course,” he announced, grinning widely to himself, before spinning and turning upon the woman before him, grabbing her by the shoulders, uncaring if she shared in his jubilation or not.

“What was it, Agatha, you told Johnny all those years ago? There was a pathogen that was passed from one to another, yes? Oh, you are brilliant. And heaven’s sake, I am an idiot at times, aren’t I?” he mock-sighed, lauding perhaps a little less than an ounce of authenticity to his self-deprecation.

“At times?” She snarked back, despite Zoe’s otherwise well intended vow to not indulge him, leaning back in reluctance to his grip. 

His eyes rolled skyward, tilting his head to look down at her in disappointment, retaining her in his grasp. “Always one to ruin a party.” 

“Only if it’s yours.” 

A pointy-toothed grin slowly overcame his face. “Wouldn’t have it any other way,” he shot back, in what could have almost passed for warmth. 

With a brief, forced groan of disgust, Zoe decided it was paramount to take back control of this particular reunion with some sense of urgency before it got off the rails any further. Nudging her shoulders out of his grasp, which he surprisingly didn’t protest, she paced back and looked out the window, “You know I can’t just let you go infect the world with unquenchable bloodlust, Count Dracula.”

“Oh?” He inquired with a small hum of surprise, stuffing his hands as far into his pockets as they would fit. “You don’t look so unquenchable to me…” His tone was mocking, but his eyes shown dark with curiosity. 

“That’s because I’m not like you.”

He looked even more amused. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure. Have you been around fresh blood?”

She didn’t respond, but from her stubborn silence he already knew the answer.

“Have you been eating? Sleeping?”

“Some,” Zoe protested, turning back to face him with renewed confidence. “More often than not I’ve been working.”

Dracula looked mildly alarmed at the insinuation, but not for any reason pertaining to himself. “Don’t tell me you went back to that institute? Oh, Zoe. Surely you know that can never end well?”

“You yourself said science is the future, and I very much agree. Which is why I’m going to do everything in power to make sure that I never have to take anyone’s life,” she continued, powering through his protest like the useless distraction it was. She didn’t for a moment think he had any real concern for her well being, vampire or not.

“By starving yourself until some unfortunate intern gets an ill-timed paper cut? Dr. Helsing, they’ll lock you up and throw away the key. Believe me. I know.”  

“I’m not starving myself. The reason you can’t process solid food is because all of your organs stopped functioning centuries ago, I am going to do what I can to make sure that doesn’t happen to me. Plus, there are other ways to intake the nutrients within blood that are necessary to live without using someone else’s veins to do it,” she protested, holding her head high in protest.

His brows wagged, her stubbornness coming as no shock, despite the unfortunate nature of it. If the rest of the Van Helsing bloodline were half as persistent as just one of these women’s weakest moments, he hated to know what the family dinners were like. 

“Fine. Fair enough. If you’re so determined to try that approach I can’t stop you. But don’t expect me to join you.” 

Her smile was triumphant, but minimal. “Oh I don’t. So long as you don’t expect me to let you murder your way through the British Isles uninhibited.” 

His smile mirrored hers, and despite knowing there was nothing (he was currently aware of) that she could use to stand in his way, his eyes held a darker edge of challenge and his voice was a ragged, conspiratorial whisper. “On the contrary. I would be highly disappointed if you did.”

She quirked a brow. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you like it when things don’t go your way.”

The vampire shrugged, approaching her once more. “Call it an existential crisis. On the other hand…” He placed one longer finger under her chin and with light pressure, urged it up so that she was meeting his eyes more directly. “All my best brides are the defiant ones.”

A mocking scoff erupted from her throat, and after a short, internal scuffle it was, at least in part, Agatha’s words that countered him. “I am not your bride, Count. In fact none of them ever were – you don��t keep ‘brides’ in boxes and feed them garden pests. Those were lab rats. A bride is someone you actually have to ‘live’ with – if you’ll excuse the colloquialism.” She gently jerked her jaw out of his grasp.

“Good thing we have forever, then.”  He gave her another brief crooked smile and began to walk past her entirely towards the door. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m starving. I trust you can find your way out – unless you’d like to join me?”

“I’ll pass,” Zoe insisted, blinking out of the strange daze of his presence and Agatha’s intrusion with an annoyed set to her shoulders, looking after him with a look of warning. “I’ll be seeing you.”

He paused, glancing back one last time from the hall. 

“Looking forward to it.” 

---

Thank you everyone who’s been following it, I hope I paid off that cliffhanger while still being a tease.  I hope the Agatha/Zoe conundrum doesn’t come off entirely too confusing, though it is meant to be confusing to her as well. Poor Zoe. Join the OT3 or put up with our incessant fuckery Also, I wrote this at work yesterday, so this post is funded by the US government ;)

@my-fanfic-library @ohveda @imagineandimagine @wannabebloodsucker @hoefordarkness @mymagicsuitcase @crazytxgradstudent @itendedbadly @theplumsoldier @gatissed @allfandoms-writings @littlemessyjessi @punk-courtesan @vampiregirl1797 @gleefullyselfishreblogs @break-free-killer-queen @desperatefrenchwriter @bellamortislife @charlesdances @iloveclaesbang @carydorse @ss9slb @dreamerkim @isayhourwrong

I’ll add anyone else who asks! 

[thebeautyofdisorder]

Chapter 5 is now on AO3! >Here<

And due to tumblr apparently not making tags work if they’re copy/pasted - despite the links still being active, I’m going to to re-do my tag list here, just in case it didn’t work for you. I know it did for some and not for others. If you want in, lemme know. And a HUGE thank you to anyone who’s commented or liked so far. 

@break-free-killer-queen @mephdcosplay @charlesdances @punk-courtesan @bellamortislife @crowley-needs-a-hug @carydorse @imagineandimagine @my-fanfic-library @hoefordarkness @wannabebloodsucker @mymagicsuitcase @ohveda @crazytxgradstudent @itendedbadly @gatissed @allfandoms-writings @littlemessyjessi @vampiregirl1797 @desperatefrenchwriter @iloveclaesbang @ss9slb @dreamerkim @violetmarkey @alhoyin @thozaarmitage @girlonfireice @cipherwheeldecoder @mr-kisskiss-bangbang @hyacinth-meadow @isayhourwrong

The Undone & The Divine (BBC Dracula) - Chapter 5

A/N: Okay…this took far longer than I expected it to, but to be fair for five minutes I was almost convinced to take a break and leave it at four. Five minutes is giving it too much credit, I think. But, either way - here it is. I hope you enjoy it. I labored over the last bits of this for far too long wondering if I was getting too ahead of myself, but… what the hell, right? Please reassure me with comments.

Rating: still T, for blood, language, and a bit of dubious consent/alluding to adult concepts 

Pairing: Dracula & Zoe/Agatha Van Helsing

Chapters 1 & 2 Here - Chapter 3 Here - Chapter 4 Here

It will be on AO3 later tonight

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