#vladimir dracula

[tf-kinky]

// First TF story of 2025, based on tv show Young Dracula. Enjoy! 😈😈 \\

In the shadowy, time-worn corridors of Garside Grange, Vladimir Dracula, affectionately known as Vlad among his circle, was known for his kindness and gentle nature. He was a vampire who prided himself on compassion, often going out of his way to help both the living and the undead. But when it came to Malik, a vampire whose treachery had once caused havoc in Vlad's life, that kindness was nowhere to be found.

Vlad found himself in his ancient study, surrounded by the relics of his long life, with a plan fueled by a mix of vengeance and dark magic. He had retrieved a vial containing the remnants of Malik, who had been dusted by enemy vampires. With a heart hardened only against this particular adversary, Vlad began to chant in an age-old language that echoed with the weight of centuries.

The air shimmered as the spell took effect, the dust of Malik swirling into existence. But Vlad, with an uncharacteristic twist of cruelty, altered the magic at the last moment. Instead of reviving Malik in his former glory, he transformed him into something both elegant and degrading—a pair of black gothic vampire boots with sharp, pointed toes, the leather as dark as the void.

Malik, now the boots, was assaulted by an intense barrage of sensations. Every footfall sent waves of sensory information through him, from the cold of the stone floor to the musty scent of the castle. His senses were heightened to an excruciating degree, making his new existence one of constant, overwhelming awareness. But what gnawed at him more than the sensory overload was the humiliation of his state, especially at the hands of Vlad, whom he despised.

Vlad, however, felt no remorse. He admired his new boots with a cold satisfaction, their gothic design complementing his usual attire. "Malik, my dear," he said with a voice devoid of his usual warmth, "you've finally found your place." He slipped his feet into the boots, feeling them mold perfectly to him, a dark smile playing on his lips.

Each step Vlad took was a reminder to Malik of his new, powerless existence. His hatred for Vlad boiled silently, a sharp contrast to the gentle nature Vlad was known for. He felt every movement, every shift, every step Vlad made through the castle, each one a testament to his fall from grace.

Vlad, now adorned with his new, unwilling boots, walked through Garside Grange with a different kind of pride. To the rest of the world, he was the kind-hearted vampire; to Malik, he was the embodiment of vengeance. In this dark twist of fate, Malik was forever bound to Vlad, a constant, silent companion in his most humiliating form, while Vlad enjoyed the irony of having his enemy so close, yet so utterly at his mercy.

From Malik's perspective, existence had morphed into a relentless nightmare. Each day brought with it a fresh wave of agony, his very being now synonymous with the soles of Vlad's boots. His face, once proud and fearsome, was now the insole, pressed flat against the hard, unyielding leather, only to be crushed under the weight of Vlad's feet.

Every step Vlad took was a torment. The pressure of Vlad's heel was like a boulder grinding into him, his skull feeling as if it would burst from the constant pressure. The balls of Vlad's feet pressed down with each stride, sending shockwaves of pain through what was once his face, now a mere part of the footwear. The texture of the stone floors, the occasional sharp pebble, or the smooth glide over the castle's carpets—all translated into a symphony of suffering for Malik.

The sensory overload was maddening. The smell of the ancient stone, the dust, Vlad's scent, all mixed with the leather's mustiness, was ceaseless. But the worst was the taste, the bitter, stale taste of the inside of the boot, combined with the occasional drop of sweat from Vlad's feet, which felt like acid on Malik's senses.

Time had lost its meaning; there was no day or night for him, just the endless parade of steps. There were moments when Vlad would sit, and the pressure would lessen slightly, but the pain was always there, latent, waiting for Vlad to move again. Malik's screams, once loud and defiant, were now silent, trapped within the confines of his leather prison.

The humiliation was as palpable as the physical pain. To be reduced to this, to be at the mercy of Vlad's every whim, was a fate worse than death for Malik. He could feel Vlad's smug satisfaction with every step, the subtle shift in weight as Vlad would perhaps pause to gloat over his new boots, over him.

Malik's hatred for Vlad grew with each passing moment, but it was a futile emotion. There was no escape, no way to fight back. He was bound to Vlad, not just by magic but by this excruciating cycle of pain and degradation. Each step was a reminder of his fall, his powerlessness, and Vlad's unyielding vengeance.

In this personal hell, Malik could only endure, each step a strike against his very essence, every moment a testament to his new existence as nothing more than the boots Vlad wore with cold satisfaction, walking through the shadows of Garside Grange, forever.

[gabirox]

girlhood is thinking about young dracula a bit too hard when you're out of academia for the first time in your life and starting to write an essay on ingrid because you don't know what else to do

[norsko]

[lovelikehomicide-ao3]

MORE. I MADE MORE.

(First lot.)

[wattsandroot]

[vladraculas]

i'm rewatching the young dracula pilot and i have some thoughts

the beginning is iconic - and the only time vlad is talking to and looking at the camera as far as i remember

"she's so much like her mother" the count not liking ingrid because of his complicated relationship with magda, her leaving him for a werewolf as we found out later in this ep and he's taking it out on his daughter - it all makes sense

robin hanging upside down in his room - what a legend

the first episode is actually doing such a good job setting up all the characters and the story

i like how it's mostly just a silly little show but it already introduces the dread and pressure vlad faces of becoming a vampire and that feels so real and sad

the scene where the count puts the cape on vlad in the mirror hit me harder than i thought it would probably bc i know where the show is going

"we're vampires. can't escape it. it's your destiny"

renfield in the nurse (?) outfit lmao

"have you come to donate blood?" "no" "it's for a good cause?" "what cause?" "lunch" alskdkjdd

i'm sorry but how did robin go from his hiding spot under the bed out of the door and walk around the castle without vlad, ingrid or zoltan noticing?? they're standing right there!!

the branaughs all going up to the castle one by one - really funny

ingrid is already a fashion icon

did renfield get tortured by a tarantula i totally missed that before and wow am i glad we did not really see that

and then he kills it (imelda) "if it's any consolation, master, she wouldn't have felt a thing" "except your huge bottom squishing her" INGRID lmao

love seeing vlad and ingrid teaming up and act like typical young brother/big sister

the count being dramatic as always but i feel like he gets introduced to being more formidable than he later is but i like it more this way than the borderline only comedy figure he becomes later

the actors are all really good actually but you can tell it's the first episode and it's still a little awkward and they're still working on the dynamics

all in all what a nice little kids gothic horror show that i have become obsessed with, totally accidental, six years ago

[loveralbumtv]

YOUNG DRACULA

4.02: Revamped

[bisexualmultifandommess]

My favourite thing about the original Young Dracula show is that the Count and his kids are so obviously unusual (yes even Vlad) yet so many of the characters are just like “aren’t our neighbours nice ☺️”

Like the people who do realise they’re weird are like looking at everyone thinking what the hell is going on and everyone else is like “That’s Mr Count and his children they’re so interesting!”

[klc-archive]

The Count: Oh please, no woman forgets this… face. Vlad: Ugh. Gif by divinecoma.

[stormofstarlight]

The thing that still gets me even 10 years after Young Dracula finished airing is that it was pretty well-established that vampires couldn't use their powers on people they were in love with, and that was. Pretty much the only exception as far as I can recall. Then Vlad wasn't able to mindwipe Jonno because he "cared about him". Like Vladimir that is not the most heterosexual thing u could have done

[lifexfjasmin]

The only way he is leaving here is in a dust bag.

[lovelikehomicide]

The Ghosts in the Castle

I've started playing around with a Young Dracula fan fiction idea that explores Robin's mental space following the season two finale. I'm also interested in the possibility of a small-town mythos forming in Stokely, what with the family moving away right before Ingrid started draining the local livestock (and eventually the locals). The Count was implied to have at least tried to keep a low profile.

Please let me know what you think.

________________

My best friend, Vlad, and his family were killed two months ago.  

Mum and dad told us, the morning after it happened, that the family had packed up in the middle of the night and moved away.  

‘Why?’ Chloe had asked.  

Dad shrugged. ‘Maybe immigration troubles, or tax evasion,’ he wrinkled his nose, like the words carried an odour, ‘or a family emergency. Who can say? We didn’t know them that well, all things considered. Anything could have been going on behind those giant doors.’ He turned to me with a pitying smile and laid his heavy, far too hot hand on my shoulder. ‘I’m sure Vlad will reach out once things have settled.’  

Vlad wouldn’t reach out. I knew it then and I know it now. Just like I know, despite what my mother would have everyone believe, that I was at the castle that night.  

What I don’t know is what happened there—but I have theories. Absence is a presence in and of itself, after all.  

I’m full of holes. Pieces of myself were sliced out that night and have since gone missing. Chloe explained the concept of repressed memories and advised me not to try and dig them out, as the brain is good at playing tricks on itself. She believes me, but she’s also heard the rumours, and she’s trepidatious of how they might influence me.  

When you repeat something enough, it becomes fact. Let enough time pass and the story, the reconstruction, and the memory will all bleed into one, never able to be completely disentangled. Everyone has those memories, the ones of things that happened when you were a child, constructed entirely from stories told one too many times at family get-togethers or while reminiscing over tea. Or maybe it isn’t a story, but a photograph that you’ve been glancing at for years, until you start to remember the day it was taken. False memories, Chloe called them. They’re what happen when you let other people convince you of what you should remember.  

Sometimes my dreams feel like drafts sweeping through those holes. Not quite memories, but not normal dreams, either. Something born from corrupted images, discarded thoughts and forgotten conversations. Unlike Chloe, I don’t believe the barrier between our thoughts and objective reality is exactly definitive. It’s more like a gradient. Reality, our perception of it, what we remember afterwards—it's all a matter of cognition. That is to say, I know that just because I think something that doesn’t mean it happened, but if I dream it enough, I’m afraid it’ll become real.  

I have theories, which are built around the things I know for sure. Something happened that night, which my brain considers traumatic. This event either relates to things that had happened before, or was severe enough to have a ripple effect, tearing holes into memories spanning the past year. Memories pertaining to Vlad. The event preceded, included, or followed the death of Vlad and his entire family.  

These are the things Chloe and I have agreed on. We are also in agreement that our parents must know something about what happened, but they have chosen to lie to us. They insist I was with them at a party that night. I would remember that.  

I try not to listen to the rumours, but that’s impossible when it’s seemingly all anyone wants to talk about.  

The Count family died Friday night. Ingrid was young, and pretty, and well-known among the locals. Well-liked, they claim, and such tragedies are so romantic.  

There were rumours by Saturday afternoon. 

Saturday night, something went sculking around old Jenkin’s farm and drained all the blood from one of the sheep. It stood upright, Jenkin’s son told the papers, though it didn’t walk so much as float. It was ethereal, with its billowing cloak and the single pale hand it used to beckon the sheep, luring it away as if in some trance. He didn’t dare approach it.  

By Monday, everyone had their own versions of what was going on.  

[gabirox]

some thoughts on vlad between seasons 2 and 3

i have many, many conflicting headcanons about what exactly happened in the gap between s2 and s3 and how the entire family was at that point in time but one concept i think is interesting is the idea that vlad was drinking blood in that time.

obviously its well established that vlad refuses to drink blood and believes its wrong. in s3e1 we see him say this from the offset, however we also see him really struggle with being in a room full of breathers. most of this can be easily brushed off with the writer's trying to display that drinking blood isn't who vlad is, even though its what his nature calls for. this is pretty boring however and therefore i am choosing to project headcanons onto it <3

after wearing the crown of power at the end of s2, vlad collapses leading to the iconic scene of ingrid saying she neither knows nor cares if vlad is alive or not. this is where the blank spot begins. we know that the batteries on the uv cage ran out so the count could escape with renfield and vlad, however we don't know what state vlad was in at this point of time but we can assume it was bad.

working on the basis that the crown of power at least partially transformed him (e.g. gave him his fangs and boosted his powers, i then believe that he never went to the blood mirror on his sixteenth birthday as everyone believed he had already transformed, which then allowed for the events in s3e7/8, but thats another post) i think its an interesting idea that the count - unsure what exactly to do with this extremely ill vampire child - gave vlad blood whilst unconcious in an attempt to heal him. when vlad eventually came around he would deny this as treatment, but i'd like to believe that it is what made him better. to go along with this i think it provides an interesting dynamic that vlad is unaware that he was being fed blood whilst in this weakened state, with the count never having the heart to tell him that he had been drinking copious amounts of blood. its for this reason that we see vlad then struggle so much to be around breathers, as he went cold turkey on blood after he woke up properly. it shares some parallels with how much he struggled after biting erin - although it wasn't entirely the same.

TLDR: vlad had a blood addiction he never even realised he had because it was used to save him when he was ill

[norsko]

[wattsandroot]

[niamhthefae]

can somebody please write a multi chapter fic based on bad vlad but they actually treat him like a 17 year old evil vampire, meaning he gets to bite people, say swear words and we get to see things in a darker way