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onestepbackwards · 3 months

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Love that Bites Pt. 13

IT'S DONE AAAA Sorry this took so long, I have had a rough few months, it's made it hard to write and focus. BUT! This chapter is at least 8000 words to make up for it! I hope you enjoy!! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

Summary: Despite what he had hoped, Dracula has decided to spring a talk of 'business' with you earlier than he had intended. He anticipates it to end in disaster, destroying what little peace you both had. However, he finds things might not end like he presumes...

CW: Anxiety, talks of depression, allusions to abuse, mentions of murder, mentions of sexist behavior, brief mentions of injury

Word Count: 8039 Words!

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Tag List: @kittenlover614 @simpytheshrimpy69 @midgetdemon17 @just-nother-dreamer @adrakeshoard @tilldeathripsusapart @thedeadlynights @pumpkinvampie @bethleeham @mshope16 @sixsixtwenty @haleypearce @rvautomatic @tinystarfishgalaxy @marshmelloe @maorizon @ursamajor17 @sapphicsfordracula @dame-sunflowers @sleepyendymion @starrlo0ver @onewiththebeanbag

First: Here Last: Here Next: Here

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Dracula, if he were being honest with himself, had dread when this day would come.

Deep down, he knew eventually you two would have to talk. There was no getting around it, no avoiding it forever.

After all, you were still a Belmont, and he was King of the Night.

He had known this talk would come before he eventually had been freed. How you mentioned wishing to talk instead of immediately engaging in battle.

However, he would admit that a small part of him looked forward to this, especially before he had been freed from his stone prison.

Back then, he could not help but imagine different scenarios of himself and you discussing the future. This primarily was before he had got to know you a little bit more with each ‘visit’.

Before you broke the curse on him, he had planned on using this talk to gouge your own plans, and see just what kind of a Belmont you really were.

Would you be all bark and no bite? Or was the idea of wanting to talk really just a guise to make yourself more high and mighty than him? Another ‘holier than thou’ spiel he had heard countless times throughout history, and still managing to condemn him?

Perhaps it was even a trick to try and lower his guard? Just to attack like a snake on unsuspecting prey?

Not that he would have let his guard down that easy in the beginning, of course…

Other questions though still had run through his mind at the time as he slowly grew to know you in his imprisonment.

Were you really different? Did a small bit of Leon still persist despite the generations of Belmonts? Was it truly kindness that shone bright in those tired eyes of yours?

It certainly wasn’t naïveté, despite what some may think. Those eyes of yours had seen too much to be dull witted. Any kindness you had to give, it was because you chose to, despite knowing the risks.

That kindness, and your interest in asking questions for yourself. That still drew him in.

However, as time went on, it became almost alarmingly clear that you were in fact serious about this. How you didn’t particularly want to battle him, at least not without hearing him out personally.

No power play here, no desire to put yourself above him while seemingly giving the vampire a chance.

You were a rarity that Dracula didn’t want to let go. Especially when you were just within his grasp.

Humans like yourself were rare, he didn’t want to just let you slip through his fingers, even if you were a Belmont.

If anything, that made it all the more important to try and sway you to see his side of things.

Or to at least… come to an understanding.

However, Dracula was all too familiar with how finicky fate could be. Should he try and lock you away or strongarm you into staying, he’d simply be pushing you away.

It also didn’t help that the idea of simply holding you hostage didn’t sit well in his gut. The last thing he wanted, (even if he refused to admit it out loud), was for you to hate him for stealing you away.

…He would admit he did consider it, though. Dracula had already lost so much, was it hard to blame him for wanting to protect this Little Belmont who was clearly a hidden gem amongst the rotten trash that was humankind?

Still, he couldn’t afford to risk losing you to his own arrogance. Not like this.

Unfortunately though, you unintentionally threw a wrench into his plans.

Originally, he hoped to have you here for at least a week, if not two. During that time, he planned to gleam who had hurt you, and deal with them swiftly if need be.

All while healing you, and seeing if he could push past a few of your walls.

That way, hopefully when you eventually had to have a talk with him about where you both stood, he had hoped he would have enough information to form a way to convince you to stay.

Alas, things never went to plan for him. Fate seemed to enjoy taunting him that way, it seems.

Despite how receptive you had been to him, and how you accepted his care, you surprised him with what you had to say.

How you could not stay much longer. You had to leave soon.

Your words weighed heavy in his heart. However, it became clear this wasn’t exactly a choice you wanted.

It seemed you were oddly reluctant to even mention why, clearly unhappy and anxious about the idea of going back.

That had alarm bells ringing in his mind.

The Lord of the Night was no fool. When he wasn’t constantly being slain by your ilk, he was a ruler, a leader, and a tactician. Among many other things.

No one lived as long as he, and not pick up on different things about human behavior.

A part of him wanted to puff up in pride. You seemingly wanted to stay.

But that was unfortunately a double edged sword, so it seemed.

Sure, you were receptive to his care and being his guest, but that was far from being entirely trustworthy and comfortable around him.

…So just how bad was your home life for you to prefer staying at his castle, even after someone already tried to foolishly tamper with your life?

You seemed a bit dodgy when he delicately prodded about your home life. However, the less you said, the more of a picture it seemed to paint.

No words had to be said for him to assume the worst. The wounds you had must have been from wherever you resided outside his castle.

Yet you stubbornly refused to give him details. Even if you were different from your ancestors, you were still very much a stubborn Belmont.

It would be endearing, if not for the fact he worried about your safety the moment you left his property.

And the fact he had to have this conversation with you now, rather than when he would have liked. He had at least hoped you would be in a better physical and mental state before he sprung this talk on you.

After all, you both couldn’t ignore the elephant in the room forever. One of you would either have to give and declare war, or… Perhaps meet halfway.

Even though he hoped for the best, Dracula was well aware this may end in disaster. He at least hoped it wouldn’t be too explosive.

He’d like to at least fight you on even ground with respect, like you had wished to do for him.

The last thing he wanted was to fight you as you looked up at him, clearly still incredibly injured, despite what the potions have done for you so far. He wouldn’t underestimate you, but he knew that you would no doubt leave with permanent damage if you managed to win.

And if he were being honest, Dracula didn’t want to deal with the whirlpool of emotions he no doubt will have to suffer from if you choose to try and destroy him.

He may be a prideful man who didn’t like admitting his faults, but he was well aware how badly he handled losing someone last time. He didn’t want to kill you or try to hurt you with his own hand.

So he donned his King of the Night mask. Ready to face the music.

Your reaction to his change in demeanor was instant.

Those wide eyes of yours sharpened, and he could practically see the hair on your neck stand on end. Seems a hunter’s instinct never rests.

It was almost fascinating to watch in real time, if he were being honest with himself. Any Belmont he had faced, almost exclusively were ready to fight him from the get go.

So to see you so subtly shift, as if a snake preparing to strike, or a cat ready to react with a strike of its own…

Dracula would be lying if he didn’t find such a sight interesting, stirring a set of feelings in him he thought he had long since buried. A shame he had to see such a shift when he might become your enemy in mere moments.

The air around you both was tense, and was charged with enough energy Dracula idly wondered if it could charge a light at this rate.

“So,” Dracula began, his voice becoming a bit of a bored drawl, “what exactly do you intend to do now, Little Belmont?”

Your eyes nervously bore into his own, and you swallowed thickly as you sat up straighter.

“What I intend to do?”

Dracula kept his lips from curling up into a grin. He at least would try to hold off from antagonizing you like he would with annoying diplomats from other monster and vampire clans.

“Yes. Forgive me for being rather blunt,” he began, his eyes glowing idly as he watched you for any change in behavior, “-but you know as well as I do, that we can’t just pretend the other doesn’t exist after you leave.”

It was subtle, but he recognized the calculating look on your face after he finished speaking. He wondered what thoughts were flying through your head as you scoured your mind for an answer.

Dracula knew his words had to be thought on, though he also imagined you probably had thought about this long before he had even been freed. Although, imagining what one would say in such a situation, and being in the situation you had imagined didn’t mean things would go as one planned.

You were silent for a moment. Then another.

Dracula didn’t mind, nor did he rush you. Despite his shift in attitude, he didn’t intend to push you to make a choice at that exact moment, even if he did put you on the spot.

Though perhaps, that may just be his thin veiled excuse to keep the peace, just for a little while longer.

After a few more moments, you let out a sigh, and put a hand on top of your head. You averted your eyes from him, and closed them.

“I… I don’t wish to fight you.” you began, almost tentatively. Your hands gripped the blanket nearby, and began to fiddle with it.

“You have been very kind to me since uh… Since you were freed from being a statue. You didn’t have to do that, for me of all humans.”

For a moment, your eyes met his own, and Dracula felt some tension in his body lessen, just ever so slightly.

So you didn’t wish to fight him either. It was one thing to suspect as such, but to hear it from your own mouth relieved him in a way he couldn’t explain. No doubt it also took a lot for you to admit that, to your own destined adversary.

But that didn’t mean you wouldn’t fight him. No, it was clear you would if you had to. The words were unspoken, but still there.

Despite this, you were still clearly nervous, your heartbeat pounding hard enough for him to hear in the quiet room.

“I’ll be honest. I… may be a fool for admitting this, but…” you began, your eyes flickering between your whip, which sat next to you on the bed, and Dracula himself.

“...I probably wouldn’t even win. What’s the point, anyway?”

That was indeed surprising to hear from your lips. The way you practically sagged as you admitted such a thing, showing just how tired you really were.

Dracula could see it now. It wasn’t just exhaustion in your eyes from whatever happened to you at your home.

You were tired of life. You were tired of the burden you had on your shoulders. You didn’t have much to fight for, anymore.

Dracula felt those words of yours tear into his heart. They struck a chord with him in a way that was almost unsettling.

“If I fight you, then what? I ‘win’? There’s nothing in it for me. Sure, I save humanity, or whatever-” You say, making finger quotes as you shake your head, “-But then I just end up back home in my own hell hole, no doubt with injuries that can no longer be healed. Then I’d still be expected to keep hunting.”

It was strange, as if a dam had broken within you. Dracula had a feeling this was something that had been building for years. No doubt from when you were a child, thoughts like those had been swimming in your head. Especially after you had lost a parent.

“Plus, what then, you rise again in a century? If even that? I know for a fact sometimes you have risen in half that time. What’s the point then? Just holding off until the next battle until someone else in my family stands up to fight you?”

Blinking quickly, you rubbed one of your eyes with your wrist, clearly trying to hold your emotions in check. The conversation clearly weighed heavy on you when you were already dealing with enough as it is.

He’d admit though, it was surprising to hear this from you.

Some Belmonts seemingly had been eager to seal him away. Either for glory, or the sake of mankind, thinking it a triumphant thing to succeed.

Here, you simply showed the opposite. How cruel fate really was, how winning against him was nothing more than a temporary, hollow victory in the grand scheme of things.

And how those words of yours echoed deep within his own mind. How many times had he been forced to answer the call of humans and other forces since he was killed that first time after Lisa’s death?

Those first few times, he had been vengeful. But after he had fought with his own son one on one, it had become increasingly clear how hollow his life had become.

How far he had sunk since he even lost his own dear Elisabetha.

How he encouraged this lonely life as a vampire after losing his first wife, then grew to detest the cursed cycle he had been put in after his second wife was murdered.

Fated to be the monster talked about in folk tales to keep children from misbehaving, only to reappear due to the whims of Chaos and Order. Cursed to be revived, when after all these centuries, he had finally wanted to rest.

He was tired too.

At least he was living in the hole he had dug for himself. He had no one to blame other than his own self and actions.

But there was a strange pang of sympathy for you in his chest. His actions were his own doing, but you? Your family was doomed because of both him, and your ancestor who created his whole clan just to slay him and his kind.

You were born to slay him, for better or for worse. Raised to kill him, and if he didn’t appear, raise a child in your family to kill him in your stead.

Did you even get to live a life of your own? Dracula doubted you could, unless you completely cut all ties, probably having to go as far as to change your own name.

After all, any Belmont was free game, regardless if they hunted or not. If there was a chance someone was related to a hunter, let alone a Belmont, beasts and monsters would hunt them for sport.

He would say at least you had your own family to support you. In the past, that seemed to be the case.

However… If your own family treated you like the dirt they walked on…

No wonder you were tired.

The room was silent for a moment, the tension having morphed from something tense and anxious, to somber and dreary.

“May I ask you a question?”

Dracula was almost startled by your voice, and how soft it had gotten. You were now looking out the window, watching as rain had begun to fall. A rolling thunder was heard off in the distance.

He wondered if that was due to the castle, or from him from the dull ache in his chest.

“You may.”

Dracula was also surprised by how his own voice had softened. He prepared himself to act like The King of the Night, yet here he was, already unable to stay cold and curt with you.

How his icy demeanor had already cracked seeing you so… broken.

It was silent for another moment as you gathered your thoughts.

“Why bother at this point? Is not coming back again and again exhausting? Why keep planning to attack humanity?”

At first, the questions seemed piercing and aggravating, until you finally looked back over at him. Those tired eyes of yours meeting his own.

“No one ever really told me. I have an idea, but… Most of what I know I learned from old journals. I highly doubt things written by a victor are always 100% accurate.”

That familiar, proud warmth stirred in his chest amongst the painful feelings that swirled from old memories.

But this… this is what he had wanted. When was the last time he got to explain his side?

…Though to be fair, he knew he would be seen as wrong, regardless of what he told you. However, it was still nice to at least have a chance to explain, without immediately being called a heartless monster first.

You at least were curious. You wanted to know for yourself, rather than just believe the words of your ancestors without thought.

Truly a marvel for most humans, even now.

Dracula looked over you, and how your eyes still watched him with a wary, curious gleam.

He sighed.

“Several centuries ago, my wife, Lisa, was murdered by humans.” Dracula began, letting himself relax slightly as he began to speak. You, meanwhile, sat up a bit further, clearly interested in what he had to say for himself.

“She insisted I go travel, and that she would be fine in the small home we had built away from the castle. Lisa wished to stay, having pursued the career of a doctor. Taught her everything I know.”

A small smile flickered on his face as he recounted his time with his late wife, though that smile quickly fell back to a frown.

Your eyes seemed to sharpen slightly, and it was as if he could see you calculating in real time what must have happened. No doubt you were already making educated guesses.

“Unfortunately, many didn’t take kindly to her healing others. Even a few of those she treated reported her to the church.”

Eyes widening slightly, a look of sorrow and horror briefly passed over your face. Had he not been paying attention, it would have been easy to miss.

No doubt you had an idea before, but his words were painting a horrific story, even if he hadn’t even said what had happened specifically just yet.

“For a year, she was fine. We occasionally wrote letters to the other, and she would tell me about her different patients. Sometimes how fulfilling it was to be a doctor, something she had dedicated her life to. Other times… She’d mention how her patients weren’t as kind or cooperative.”

Dracula held back a sneer at the reminder. He really should have noticed the signs so much sooner. How he could have avoided her horrible fate if he had just relied on his gut…

“They would groan or complain that she was treating them. How it wasn’t normal for a woman to do man’s work. They would sometimes curse her out or grow aggressive even. Some accepting her treatment while saying vile things about her. Although… My son at the time usually was around to help if things were too violent.”

Recognition flashed in your eyes. Of course you would recognize his son, to some degree, if you didn’t already know him.

There was doubt in his mind however, that you knew his son. Dracula at least liked to think his and Lisa’s son would have stepped in by now to help you if he had an idea of whatever was happening behind closed doors.

Especially given how his son had been insistent on helping the Belmonts throughout the centuries, even if it wasn’t always by choice since it regarded slaying him.

Details.

Though that did make Dracula briefly wonder just where his son was. Had he gone back to resting? Or had he stirred now that he himself was awake and free?

Dracula was no fool. Alucard had a connection to this castle just like he did, even if it wasn’t on the same scale. His son’s powers being from his own would always have a connection to this place, so long as Dracula remained alive.

Those thoughts were pushed back into his mind. He could dwell on such thoughts and speculations later. If he was still alive and this went well, of course.

Clearing his throat, Dracula continued.

“It was nearly the time I was to return home, when it happened. The church and heads of the nearby town seemed to have had ‘enough’ of my wife ‘playing’ healer, despite the fact she had most likely treated someone they knew, if not themselves.”

Anger and irritation began to simmer a bit brighter in his chest as he thought of how his wife had been treated. How alone and scared she must have been that day.

“They came. They saw the instruments we both used for medicinal purposes. Something I believe you would find rather modern, or even old by today’s standards, but at the time…”

You looked up at him then, realization in your eyes.

“They accused her of witchcraft, didn’t they?”

It was more of a statement, then a question.

Dracula could only give you a small nod.

“She was.”

You had a pained look on your face, clearly upset.

“I’m… not surprised.” you began, a bit hesitant.

“Humans fear things they don’t understand. Or things they can’t control. I imagine being a woman, and a doctor who no doubt had a great success rate at that… Add the more modern medicine practices…” you mumbled, eyes looking down to the side as you thought out loud.

Dracula was at least somewhat pleased you were beginning to see the gravity the situation had been. He had no idea what your knowledge of his wife had been, but this no doubt was an eye opener. That is, if you were choosing to believe him.

Given how you were reacting though… he’d like to hope you were. At least you weren’t screaming obscenities at him and calling him a liar and a heathen like some of your ancestors might have.

“Indeed. It… was brutal.”

Your eyes were now back on him, and he mentally cursed as his voice nearly wavered. He wanted to grow angry once more, and yet, a part of him wanted to simply mourn.

When did he last ever get the chance?

“When I arrived at the small home we had shared, all that was left was cinders. She had been taken captive, and I had been informed… She was to be burned at the stake.”

The air was colder, and your body tensed as a growl slowly crept into his voice.

“By the time I had found where they were keeping her…” he began, his voice low, growing strained, “...They burned her, claiming she was a witch. That this was God’s will.”

He could feel his fangs grow just ever so slightly, as well as his claws. Dracula could practically remember the smell of those ashes of that home.

“It was a lie, of course. All of it. They simply wanted her dead, and used all of that as flimsy excuses to placate the town.” he snarled, leaning forward slightly.

Despite the anger clear on his face, you remained steady. You didn’t flinch away like he thought you might, though your eyes were still wide with horror all the same.

Though… he had the feeling it wasn’t horror from seeing him like this. You weren’t scared of the beast threatening to break free from his flesh.

“By the time I located her, she was already burning. Her soul was already beginning to fade. She was gone.”

Dracula leaned back into the chair, his heart heavy in his chest.

A moment passed, and then another once more. The only thing either of you could hear was the storm that had begun to persist around the castle. How the rain harshly hit the window against the wall, and the wind wailed.

“Not one human stood up. No one looked at what was happening, and said no. All they did was watch.”

Your eyes flickered to the arm of the chair Dracula was sitting in, how it splintered under the pressure of his claws.

Yet… you still didn’t look afraid.

“I then warned them. I gave them a year to apologize and admit they were wrong. A year to pack up and leave. No one did. Not one.”

It was quiet for a moment, and Dracula took a deep breath. In an instant, the air was no longer as heavy as it had been a moment before, though a deep chill still ran throughout the air.

A part of him wanted to feel a bit bad. The moment the air lessened, you slumped again. You were still wounded, and weren’t able to hold yourself together like you no doubt would have if you were healthy. He would have to be mindful how much of a powerful presence he had.

Thrumming his claws against the partially destroyed arm of the chair, Dracula looked over you briefly before continuing.

“In my grief and anger, I declared a year from that day, I would rain hell on those who killed her. I would raze humanity to the ground.”

Your eyes met his.

“And then you did. Or tried to.” you spoke, your voice surprisingly steady.

His eyes never left your own.

“Indeed. I did.”

You swallowed thickly, your hands gripping the sheets under you nervously.

Different ways over how you would respond flashed through his mind again, much like they had earlier these past few days. However, what you said next surprised him.

“I… I don’t blame you, if I am being honest.”

Sure, Dracula thought of the possibility of you saying something along those lines, but he didn’t think you’d actually say it.

Even if you were different from some of your ancestors, he still expected you to go along and claim he was still an evil bastard, that killing those people was still horrible.

Though, that thought isn’t wrong. He knew what he was doing all those centuries ago, and knew what he was doing each time he had been revived and set out to attack. How evil those actions were.

Yet here you were, so quietly admitting you didn’t blame him.

“I’ll be honest… If it were my partner, or someone close to me… I can’t say I wouldn’t have wanted revenge.” You began, head tilting slightly towards him.

“Though uh… I don’t think I would have tried to kill all of humanity, but… Well… I don’t know your situation in full, but I do know grief is a powerful motivator for a lot of things…”

Dracula wasn’t sure what overcame him, but he found himself standing up out of the chair and leaning forward. His arms caged you in as he rested his hands on either side of you on the bed, while he loomed over you.

“You, Little Belmont, would commit murder? To avenge someone close to you, despite what your ancestors have stood for?” he asked, curiosity truly burning in his chest.

You didn’t shrink back, instead met his gaze head on, even as he caged you in. Even as he heard your heart pick up, and your breath hitch, you didn’t back down from his question.

“I’m not saying I would have tried to destroy all of humanity… or even that entire town. But I would hunt down every single person involved. They would know I was coming, one by one.”

Your eyes spoke promise, as if this was something you had thought of plenty of times before. The certainty in them was surprising.

“I’m not my ancestors. I protect humanity, sure, but don’t assume I'm just like them.”

He stood over you for a moment, his face so incredibly close to your own as he stood above you as he took in your words. Your pulse was loud enough to ring in his own ears, and your body was stiff as stone, as if awaiting him to call you a liar.

Then, he laughed.

It was more of a chuckle really, though seeing your bewildered face as he pulled back away from you nearly had made him want to laugh harder.

Leaning back and sitting into the chair once again, Dracula ran a hand against his face and into his hair.

“Forgive me- Forgive me…” He began, his lips twitching into a smile. “I just never thought I’d see the day where a Belmont would admit something such as that. Though…”

Dracula adjusted his posture to a much more relaxed one, most of the tension that had been in the air washing away in an instant.

“You are correct. You are far from what some of your ancestors have been.”

You definitely had Leon’s fire. It was hard to say if Leon would have committed murder against humans if the past had been slightly different… But you had that gleam in your eye that his old friend once had. A fierce look that was different, yet just as vicious as Belmonts before you.

With such a revelation, Dracula could feel the heavy feeling in his heart lessen, but that didn’t mean you both were in the clear, even if you understood each other just a bit better.

Even if you were sympathetic to him, that didn’t change the fact he very much attempted to kill many people. Multiple times, sometimes against his will. He very much has caused harm again and again.

Still, you looked at him with such a complex look on your face. No doubt conflicted yourself with everything you had learned today, especially if you were going to go ahead and plan to fight him anyway.

“So, Little Belmont.”

His voice had you looking back up at him.

“Now that you’ve heard it from my lips, why I detested humanity for so long, what do you plan to do now?” he asked.

Dracula wouldn’t lie. He was genuinely curious what your response would be. Anxiety began to creep up his throat once again, however.

…Maybe you would say something that would once again surprise him.

It was silent for a few moments, as you looked deep in thought, before looking back up at him.

“Well… Do you intend to keep trying to kill every human? Seems kinda… counter productive to do so now. Especially when things have changed so much in the centuries that have passed.”

Though you gave a slight wince.

“Granted, I don’t expect you to like anyone. But at this point, what do you gain? Are you… Not tired of fighting and dying and being revived?”

Once again, he could sense a genuine curiosity in your questions.

What did he gain, at this point?

Killing every human would be suicide for vampires everywhere. It would do more than just destroy vampires, but ecosystems as well.

As much as Vlad hated to admit it, humans were a necessary factor when it came to the earth.

But why should he care?

The moment that thought crossed his mind, his eyes landed back on you. How you fidgeted a bit on the bed, though seemed far less anxious than before. Your instincts didn’t seem as on edge as they had been when he first initiated this conversation.

Granted, he hadn’t been as… enthusiastic about world domination in centuries, if he were being honest with himself. His last run in with his son definitely left a mark, how his son grimly told him what Lisa’s last words had been.

But even though he often wished to stay dead, many would find ways to bring him back, and it was as if a cord was attached to his back, tugging him like a string. A force urging him to kill once again.

He’d barely be awake even a few hours, before he was set to be killed again.

Dracula would admit, he was definitely tired.

This wasn’t exactly what he expected his life to become after he chose to forsake his own humanity to spite God. Though he supposes that’s what he gets for doing so in the first place.

Who knew immortality would be full of boredom, tragedy, and bone deep tiredness?

Still, without it, he wouldn’t have experienced the brief bouts of love and joy that he wouldn’t trade for the world.

His eyes stayed on you as those thoughts swirled in his mind.

Despite everything that has happened to him, he found it hard to regret meeting you, at least so far.

For a moment, his eyes gazed to the side, different thoughts conflicting in his mind, but…

He didn’t wish to fight you, either.

Fingers thrumming against the arm of the chair, Dracula leaned his face against his hand.

“I suppose that is a fair point. Nearly every human that has personally spite me is dead. It gets tiring being woken up, and then killed for attempting vengeance when those who personally wronged me are gone.”

Your lips twitched upwards slightly at his ‘admission’, before giving him a look.

“But tell me, Little Belmont…”

He leaned in close again from his spot in the chair, looking at you almost amused.

“What should I do instead, hm?”

You blinked, and your face briefly flushed from the proximity.

“Um… Well, what did you do before declaring humans as your enemy? Uh, I’m no historian, but didn’t you just kinda do your own thing, only killing people that came to bother you or hurt you? Like how the church likes to refer to you as Vlad the Impaler to hide that you are a real vampire that exists?”

Dracula stared at you for a moment.

“They what.”

Hands flew up, and you shook them a bit in front of you as Dracula leaned back.

“Uh- don’t worry, I can tell you that later, but in all seriousness-”

Arching a brow, Dracula briefly wondered just what the church and human historians have been saying about him all these centuries if they were attempting to hide his existence. Despite being freed for a few days, he still had much to catch up on.

Regardless, he gave what you said some thought.

“That is true. I… did mostly keep to myself. I had no desire to join or hide amongst humans. Though I had little pity for those who sought me out to destroy me and met a… bloody end.”

At his words you blinked, before nodding to yourself as if you agreed. However, your eyes widened ever so slightly, and you were looking at him with that familiar spark in your eye he had seen come and go.

“Um… Why not do that again? Actually, how about a compromise?”

Now he was interested. What kind of compromise would a Belmont come up with? You were different from many of the others, sure, but he couldn’t help but be curious.

“Well…” You began, clearing your throat, “Unless any innocent humans are harmed, I have no desire to or need to hunt you, or anyone in the castle, really. What would be the point? I know from personal experience not everyone of the paranormal nature are ‘evil’, after all.”

Your hands were fidgeting in your lap, and you were having a hard time sitting still.

“Uh… that is to say I won’t hunt anyone that hurts any innocent folk. But at that point, that was their own choice, right? Unless you ordered it, I can deal with them personally. No need to go to war if you aren’t attacking anyone. And…”

It was clear you were growing more and more flustered as you tried to explain yourself and your reasoning. It wasn’t for the fact he had to take this seriously, he would have found it cute.

“And I- um- I can try to keep people away? I own a part of the property nearby and can have the road closed off. Of course, I can’t stop trespassers if I am not here, but I have plenty of traps set around the property… close to my cabin, really. I can try and keep people away…”

You were mumbling more in thought now as you tried to come up with ideas.

“...And I know a few blood banks for vampires, and a few other paranormal people who require blood to live. I know a witch that owns one, too. I’m sure she’d be thrilled to bits to help.”

All were interesting ideas, if you felt you both could really pull it off. However, he still had one question.

While you were rambling, he gently reached forward, clawed fingers tenderly grabbing your chin to have you look at him. You stopped talking and froze, eyes wide.

“All very good ideas, Little Belmont, but please answer me this,” He began, watching as your eyes comically flickered between his hand and face, “What about your family legacy? It was founded on the very idea of killing me.”

You swallowed thickly as he spoke, eyes trained on him.

“You asked why it mattered. Are you really willing to throw away the one thing your clan was founded for? For peace? For both humans and monsters? Are you willing to toss aside the very reason your ancestors became hunters in the first place?”

You stared at him in silence for a moment, swallowing thickly once more. After a few moments, you moved your head out of his grip, a sudden annoyed look in your eyes.

“I said it once, and I’ll say it again. I’m not my ancestors.” you began, a sharp look on your face.

“I didn’t ask to be born a hunter. To be born a Belmont. I’ll protect humanity, sure, but why do I have to limit myself and people’s lives based on what my ancestors decided what- 500 years ago? Why should every rule my ancestors made define my life in its entirety?”

It was as if your nerves had dissipated, and you crossed your arms in annoyance. Dracula wondered if this also was something you have thought about for years.

It made sense, he supposed. If your personal life was as much of a mess as he suspected, then what did you have to show for being a Belmont besides pain and strife?

His lips twitched upwards slightly into a small grin. You just keep finding ways to surprise him.

“Fair enough. It’s admirable to forge your own path rather than be held down by your ancestors.”

Dracula then tilted his head, that smile never quite leaving his face.

“So, Little Belmont. Let’s say I do agree to your ideas. I won’t destroy humanity, and you won’t hunt myself, and the residents of my castle. You’ll help keep humans away, and help anyone here who needs a meal. What will you do then?”

The annoyed look on your face fell, and you thought for a moment.

“Um… I could show you a bunch of modern stuff? No offense, I know you are a genius and all, but uh… I doubt you know all the ways civilization has changed since you were last around for more than a day.” you said with a wince, though you perked up almost instantly.

“Oh! I could get you a cell phone! Oh, I bet you would like some of the online libraries as well-”

He would admit, he had no idea what a cellphone was, but he was intrigued by the idea of a library.

But he was more interested in the very idea of you not only not slaying him, but you coming back to visit.

Yes, the idea of you wanting to come back was very pleasing to him, indeed.

It was at the cost of playing nice, but was that such a hard thing to achieve?

If it had been several decades ago, he doubted he would have been so… willing. He has had plenty of time to cool off, being imprisoned in stone. That urge to kill never truly left…

But that urge to devour humanity whole… that was dwindling. He’d argue that it had been dwindling for a while now.

He may be King of the Night, but this song and dance was growing tiresome.

That, and your ideas had merit. He could work with them, within reason.

“Alright Little Belmont.” he began, and you paused in the middle of your muttering.

“I’ll make a deal with you.”

You sat up straight again, eyes at attention, and he could practically hear your heart pick up in anticipation.

“For starters, I won’t attack humanity, not as a whole. However, I won’t show mercy to anyone who personally slights me. That, and any human foolhardy enough to come to my castle in an attempt to destroy me shall be dealt with accordingly.”

After you gave him a brisk nod, he continued.

“You, on the other hand, shall not lay a hand on anyone in this castle, unless they attack first. Am I clear?” He spoke, his voice becoming firm. You tilted your head, and he decided to elaborate before you agreed.

“Everyone in my castle is under my protection. They are here either as a direct connection to me as my servants, are here for sanctuary, or are here for political endeavors. They are not to be harmed unless they attack you first, or attack humans on their own accord.”

He could only imagine the shit show that would follow if you killed one of the political guests for another coven. A part of him actually considered letting you loose on them, now that he thought about it, especially with those nasty guests that like to undermine him for dying to Belmonts…

That could be a thought for another day.

A look of understanding crossed your face, and you gave him another nod.

“That’s reasonable.”

It was more or less your idea, after all, but he was glad you were willing to agree to what he added on to it.

“Next, you said you own the property nearby, and could help keep other pesky humans away. I’ll hold you to that, because I may not attempt to kill humans for existing, but I do not wish to be bothered.”

Though he’d admit, he wondered if you would be willing to show him the land you own. Vlad was curious how a little cabin you owned.

What would it look like? Did you keep it clean? Messy? Was it large? Small?

Questions he could ask later, should he see you again and you agree to these terms.

You blinked, before nodding at him slowly.

“I mean… I’ll try and do what I can. Of course, If the government or church discovers you, they may try to override me, or send someone to attack from a different position. I can’t stop that, but… I will do what I can. If I can’t, and you haven’t done anything besides exist…”

Your eyes flickered to a nearby mirror, before looking back at him.

“Well, like you said, they’ll be dealt with. I can try to persuade but… well at that point, if they won’t hear me out… I can’t stop anything you do to someone trespassing.”

That was a fair compromise, he supposed. He had little idea how the human government worked in this day and age, let alone how entangled hunters were with them. Should anyone be foolish enough to challenge him, then he’ll make sure to deal with it.

But if you were at least willing to help him out, even a little, in regards to keeping humans away. Even if you most likely weren’t a fan of the idea of him exterminating any human that foolishly sauntered into his domain.

“Agreed. Now, another thing…”

Dracula tilted his head as he looked at you.

“I’d like to see you again after this, Little Belmont.”

Your eyes widened a degree, and your face grew slightly flushed from surprise.

“What-”

“What I mean is, you intrigue me. You fascinate me in ways I had long since forgotten, and I’d like to hope this simple compromise will simply be the beginning of a… commendable relationship.”

He felt his lips curl upward again at the look on your face. Clearly you weren’t expecting him to be so forward in asking to see you once more.

“Are… Are you sure? I uh, no offense, didn’t think you’d want a Belmont around after I leave… Or your castle’s inhabitants, since I know how some of them feel with me recovering here…”

Oh, how you had no idea how much he wanted to see you again. Vlad knew his time with you now was short, and his old heart was beginning to pound in his chest at the possibility of this little meeting actually working out.

He had to see you again. One way or another.

“I am sure. You will soon find that I don’t say things I don’t mean without reason, especially in company I like.”

He wished he had a camera, it was clear you weren’t quite used to subtle compliments. Or perhaps there was more to it?

Dracula could think more on that later.

Gently, he held out a hand to shake.

“What do you say, Little Belmont? Are these terms agreeable?”

Eyes flickering between him and his hand, you held out a hand, before hesitating.

“Okay… On one condition.” Dracula raised an eyebrow, but was curious nonetheless.

“Name it.”

After a reluctant pause, you spoke up.

“It can’t be this easy.” You began, though quickly continued when you saw his face fall.

“When I say that, I’m not referring to you. I mean our circumstances. I worry something might come up that would be… disruptive to this ‘peace’. I propose that we at least try to talk about something before acting rashly if one of us feels slighted, or if the other may have broken the agreement without realizing it.”

Dracula had to give you credit, even while injured and under what must be an absurd amount of stress, you were managing to think ahead. Something a hunter no doubt had to be good at while on a hunt, so why wouldn’t it show in other areas as well?

Plus… It pleased him you were still being careful, critically aware of your situation instead of blindingly agreeing. You were no fool.

No doubt your mind was whirring with possibilities, ways he, or someone in his castle could try and trap you by these agreements. Those thoughts weren’t unfounded, at least involving his subjects.

He had no doubts there would be chaos when you started coming around for visits.

Even if he himself wouldn’t dare try and trap you by your own rules to invoke a battle, it still impressed him that you were cautious. There were too many conniving fools when it came to such politics, even now as he settled back in as King.

Vlad smiled.

“Very well, that is agreeable. Anything else?”

You were still hesitant, but after a moment, you reached forward, your smaller hand meeting his own.

“No, that will be all for now.”

With your warm hand clasped with his own, Dracula felt his body finally relax, and his gaze on you softened.

For now, things might finally start going his way.

Even if that meant his desires had morphed into something different than pure destruction. All he wanted was to learn more of you.

#castlevania #dracula #vlad dracula tepes #castlevania x reader #dracula x reader #x reader #reader insert #gn reader #Belmont!reader #long post #cw death mention #cw depressive thoughts #zed.writes #love that bites #ltb #fanfic

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jamiesfootball · 7 months

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Anyways. Back before season three aired, my working theory for What Ted's Deal was - with his advice to Jamie, with the panic attacks that were layered Jamie and his son - that it would turn out that his late father had also been abusive, but that with his father's death Ted had never processed it.

Obviously the show didn't go that route, but in general these were the points that I was daisy-chaining together to build something of a narrative flow:

Ted preaches kindness and positivity but also struggles with his own repressed anger and inability to be direct in what he wants. He continually, pathologically, puts people before himself, to the point that it's becoming a breaking point in his marriage.

Ted repeatedly praises 'women' for being the more emotionally intelligent of the genders. He looks at toxic masculinity as not just a thing to be examined and overcome, but the root of why men struggle.

He himself is a product of the same toxic male behavior, and while he tries to lead by example as an individual, there's a part of that culture that he almost sees as... natural? Like a foregone conclusion. A lot of his methods for dealing with the team in season one happen within the same social boundaries he decries. If he can get Roy to step up, if he can get Roy and Jamie to stop fighting and call a truce, then everything else will fall in place, because men follow a hierarchical structure. This is How Locker Rooms Work, and-

I always go back to Jamie's first, open receptiveness to Ted's 'one in eleven' speech as the first sign that Ted doesn't know how to deal with things directly. This scene reads as Ted being very taken aback by Jamie's willingness to listen. It has shades of their later scene at the Crown & Anchor in it, with Ted being the one who pulls away from a conversation that has the ability of getting emotionally direct and real.

Ted's repressed anger. His shouting at Jamie in 1x06 over practice, but also his shouting at Nate when Nate tries to stuff the letter under his hotel room door.

Ted emotionally reaches for the bottle like. A noticeable amount of times. But especially when he's getting divorced.

Every Sunday afternoon Ted's father used to take him to a sports bar. From age of 10 til 16.

Ted's mom is completely incapable of being direct

Ted and his mom never processed or talked about his dad's death

Ted looks devastated when he sees Jamie with his father in the boot room, but ultimately walks away

Ted sends Jamie a token to show he's not alone (Ted soldier)

Next time Jamie tries to talk to Ted at the bar, Jamie opens with addressing the subject directly (the Ted soldier) and Ted deflects. Asks about City. Won't look him in the eye. Doesn't say anything to Jamie admitting he left City to piss off his dad. He just says that line about how sometimes having a tough dad is what makes you better.

He thought he knew what he was doing [about Jamie] but Sam 'went and unsettled it.' Some people aren't lucky enough to have good dads.

Ted welcomes Jamie back but keeps his distance (much more than in season 1).

Ted begins having panic attacks that feature Jamie and his son.

Ted admits panic attacks linked directly to his father's death.

So this takes us through season two, and at this point my working theory was what if it turned out that Ted most of Ted's Ted-ness had been an active effort on his own part to become something less like his own father? It would explain his disdain for male-coded behaviors while also explaining why he seems unable to truly break away from them. it would explain his people-pleasing habits (and meeting his mom and knowing she is also allergic to asking for things, I think this could still fit as a trauma response). It would explain his putting women on a pedestal, if he had a bad male role model to begin with. It would explain how his demeanor around Jamie changes so much when they have the 'tough dads' talk turning into something closed off when his body language with Jamie has always been open before (and there's a lovely parallel with how they're both sat at the bar in that shot too). Hell it would add additional weight to that talk if it turned out he was also speaking of himself. His panic attacks would make sense, seeing himself in Jamie but also his son and his own role as a dad.

That, plus Ted being a character we regularly see drinking something harder than wine or beer, usually when he's emotionally stressed. Plus Ted's dad bringing him to a sports bar every Sunday for years, and at a young age too. Plus Jamie's dad being an alcoholic. That's where I thought this was going- I thought it would turn out that the late Lasso had also been an alcoholic and a tough dad. It just seemed the obvious conclustion at the time, to make the Ted & Jamie parallel into a full parallel.

Then you add in the fact that Ted married his college sweetheart and then waited until they were in their thirties before having a kid (In the midwest. Where he definitely would've been pressured about it) and all of this to me added up to a troubled man who struggled with the idea of becoming a father long before he had a son. Someone who spent years creating a facade, pretending (like his mom) that things were okay. Someone who maybe never felt right blaming his dad for any of it, not when it became so clear at the end how much his dad was struggling.

Only to have that facade crumble the second someone else from similar circumstances showed up to challenge it.

His dad was a product of his time, the same way that Ted is a product of his dad, the same way men are just a product of toxic masculinity, and Ted doesn't know how to 'deal' with any of it but he'd thought he'd gotten to the point in life where he had some solutions. Only to find that those solutions didn't work when held up to a mirror.

So yeah. That was my theory. Then season three happened, and I realized that unfortunately my theory had a flaw. See, I was so busy looking for a Watsonian diagnosis that would make Ted's idiosyncrasies make sense, that I completely missed the fact that the problem was Doylist to begin with. The show writers never meant for us to read into all of that, because the show writers themselves didn't see anything contrary, worrisome, or tone-deaf about Ted's behavior. Not from a toxic masculinity standpoint, and certainly not from the standpoint of discussing abuse of a male character.

It's not Ted who dismisses Jamie's dad's abuse. It's the writers. Which unfortunately means, since Ted by extension is the show, that it is Ted. Which is why all of us are left watching scenes like the 'tough dads' scene or the Mom City scene and going-

What the hell, Ted?

#apologies if this is rather rambly #i think i lost the point a few times #anyways here. have an old theory that got axed with the rest of them #though I stand by the idea that Ted also had depression in season three #ted lasso #jamie tartt #ted lasso meta #cw suicide mention #for Ted's dad #cw abuse #for jamie and (in this version) ted's dad #this is the longer version of the previous post that I mentioned in the tags

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