#i’m high but i thought it while i was watching renfield a second time

[lokiiied]

i am just making observations…

[nosferatvpussy]

distorted lullabies [chapter V]

Word count: 6,480

Warnings: vulgar language, light smut (finally)

Pairing: Dracula x reader

AO3 link

Author’s note:  I'm particularly happy with this chapter considering I didn't like the previous one. The nerd in me took the stage when I was writing this and I have a feeling it will keep happening on the next chapters. Sorry not sorry.

  “Visitations hours are almost over so I’m afraid you’ve got to be quick,” said the nurse as she opened the doors to the psychiatric ward.

I had only been to the psychiatric ward once many years ago to accompany Renfield on an interview with a potential alibi for one of our clients. I stood in the hallway, fiddling with my purse’s shoulder strap. The nurse, Margaret according to her name tag, turned to see me hesitating and looked at my neck and then back at my face with sympathy. Obviously, it was no secret why Renfield had been committed to the psych ward.

“He’s medicated, love. I doubt he’ll pay much attention to you, don’t worry.”

I nodded and gestured for us to keep walking. While I welcomed her sympathy, it didn’t help. I didn’t want to see a deranged Renfield or one that was so out of touch with the world that he wouldn’t recognise me. But what I wanted shouldn’t matter at that place. I needed to see him, insane or not.

I followed Margaret down the hallway, taking a sharp turn to the left and another one to the right. A large octagonal room spread before us, so big that it could have been a ballroom in another time. Large french windows on every wall allowed the last rays of sunshine in the afternoon to stream in, creating patterns on the linoleum floor. A bad ambient rendition of Call Me by Blondie played softly from speakers, making a patient to my right bob her head out of beat. Her eyes were empty and while she wasn’t in rhythm, she knew all the words to the lyrics. The girl sat across from her - a daughter, I presumed - smiled at the woman, mouthing the words while they held hands. I looked away, suddenly feeling like I was intruding. Two more patients on opposite sides of the room were accompanied by visitors and a third one, the furthest from me, was sitting on an armchair, facing the sun alone. 

“Fifteen minutes,” Margaret said before taking her leave. 

My high heels were loud on the floor as I dawdled my way to the lone man but he didn’t react to them. I sat on the armchair that stood perpendicular to him, refusing to look at him until I had made myself comfortable. Gathering my courage, I rose my eyes. 

He resembled a rag doll as if someone had discarded him in a chair and arranged his limbs as a second thought. His head was pending on his shoulder and his arms were crossed floppily over his stomach, though his legs were firmly planted on the ground. As I watched his posture, his knees shook as if he was trying to move. Eyes flickering back to his face, I found him staring at me. His lips moved but I couldn’t make out his words.

“What?” I asked him.

“It burns,” Renfield said louder.

I frowned and he repeated his words again. He glanced at the window and I looked outside, light shining on my face. 

“The Sun? Is that it?” I inquired. He nodded lightly. “Frank, the Sun isn’t burning you. Look, your skin is fine.” I pointed at his hands. 

“Burns.” He shut his eyes. 

Stubborn as ever, even if he what he claimed wasn’t feasible. I wasn’t the one going through what he was, though. Inhaling deeply,I stood up, grabbed the edges of his armchair and dragged it until he was in the shade with me. 

“Better?” I asked as I sat down again.

“Much. Why-” he gulped “-are you here?”

I smiled faintly. 

“To make sure you are still in condition to come back to work,” I joked and the corners of his lips tugged upward. “I’m drowning in clients, mine and yours. One them is particularly demanding. I’d be glad to be rid of him.”

“You can’t,” he said without a trace of the smile that had been forming on his face.

“I know,” I sighed. “Neither can you.”

“I don’t want to be rid of him.”

“Why?”

“I do not exist without him,” he said very slowly. “I have a purpose now.”

“Frank, you’ve always had a purp-”

“No. Working seven days a week so I will become wealthy isn’t a purpose. It is shallow and it was my entire life, until him.” He fixed his eyes on me and for the first time I saw the hint of insanity in them. “You will understand soon enough.”

He sounded eerily like himself when he spoke, even if his eyes had a different gleam to them, and that was even worse than him being insane. It meant that he truly believed in what he said, with or without Count Dracula and that he expected everyone to feel as dependent as he did.

“When you sent me to him… did you know he would-”

“Make you his bride? No but I had my suspicions. You are you, after all.” He laughed lightly. “The Count enjoys a challenge.”

“Was I a welcome gift to him?”

“Has it occurred to you that maybe he was my gift to you?”

I narrowed my eyes. 

“Have you hated me all these years in secret? What kind of gift is that?”

He laughed.

“My love for you is beaten only by my love for Count Dracula. He is freedom, Y/N. Grandiosity, power… Life itself. I wish him on every person so they will understand it.”

“Do you, really?” Sarcasm weighed my words. “You tried to kill me because he chose me.”

His jaw clenched.

“I have seen the error of my ways, now,” he said, staring at the ground. 

“He’s been here to see you, hasn’t he? To teach you a lesson?”

Dark blue eyes met mine again as he moved carefully on his chair, suddenly assuming a much more dignified posture.

“Did you come here to throw salt in my wounds?” he questioned.

“I came to check on you,” I replied and he raised his eyebrows derisively, like he always did when he thought something had no credibility. “And to ask you about him. Will you answer my questions?” He shrugged and I took that as a yes. “Why is he here? In London?” 

“Does it change anything?”

“I don't think so.”

“I taught you better than to ask dense questions. Next one.”

I sighed. I deserved that.

“How did you come into contact with him? He’s been a client since, well, forever. ”

“He was originally a client of one Jonathan Harker, a solicitor from our firm who traveled to Wallachia to never return,” Renfield laughed. “Harker was attending to all of the Count’s affairs so he could relocate here.”

“In 1896?” I questioned and he nodded. “But he just arrived…”

I trailed off as I tried to piece everything together. The Jonathan Harker Foundation surely had a connection to the solicitor. All I knew about it was what Renfield had told me, that it was an underground research facility. He hadn’t mentioned why Count Dracula had been in their custody and frankly, I hadn’t bothered to ask before I met the Count. 

“Indeed. 120 years late,” he explained. “The master embarked to England in 1896 but the ship sunk and he spent the last century under the sea. When he awoke he contacted a lawyer from the same firm that had serviced him in the past.” He pointed at himself. “Dear, your mouth is open.”

I caught movement from the corner of my eyes and turned to see Margaret, the nurse, politely interrupting a conversation between a visitor and a patient. Visiting hour was over and I had to be quick.

“Are the vampire legends true?” I inquired and continued once he didn’t answer me, “Do they apply to Count Dracula?”

“Now, why would I tell you that?” he narrowed his eyes. “If you’re planning on killing him so you are free, don’t. No matter that he wants you as his bride, he’ll kill you if you try.”

Margaret was coming our way.

“I doubt it,” I said, forcing my voice to sound strong. “Keeping me as his bride at his side would be a greater punishment than death.” I threw my purse over my shoulder and picked up my briefcase. “Bye, Frank.”

I stood up and he grabbed my wrist, softly.

“Will you come by to see me again?” 

It was his voice but the look in his eyes didn’t belong to him. I wouldn’t hold it past him to report everything we had just talked about to Count Dracula. How, I wasn’t sure, but if the Count had come to see him, then Renfield would find a way. If I kept coming to visit Renfield he would eventually let something slip and I could feed him whatever truth I wanted Dracula to believe.

“Sure,” I patted his shoulder and he let me go. 

Margaret smiled at me as I approached her.

“I see you managed to make him talk.”

“We had quite a productive talk, actually.” I returned the smile. “Has a man come to see him? Tall, dark hair, handsome?”

“No, love, you’re the first one who’s come to visit him.”

I nodded and let her lead me out.

In fifteen minutes I gathered more information about the Count than I had in the last few days. If he had come to see Renfield and discipline him, then he managed to do so undetected, which meant he could follow me around without my knowledge if he wished to. Seeing that Renfield was bothered by the sun I’d take it that Dracula was too, so I had at least one of the vampire legends confirmed. I suspected that the boat trip in which Agatha, Dracula’s dear old friend, had died was the very same one that had landed the Count under the sea. Why he stayed there for over a century was still a mystery to me. During my night with him in Camden, the Count mentioned he was widower to many brides and now that Renfield used the title when referring to me for the second time I understood just what he meant by that. And the best part, I found a loophole in my bond to him. Not once while I talked to Renfield about Dracula did my body try to shut me up. It wasn’t much but it was enough to give me hope.

My phone chirping pulled me from thoughts and I reached inside my purse to read the text I had just received. First an address and then a text by Count Dracula.

  It’s Wednesday. I hope you haven’t forgotten about our date. Meet me at this address at 9pm.

    “Here we are, miss,” said the cabbie. 

“The museum?” I asked, looking outside as he stopped the car. The Victoria and Albert Museum stood on the other side of the street, spread imposingly on an entire block while ocean blue lights illuminated it from beneath. “But it’s closed.”

“It’s the address you gave me,” the cabbie said in an annoyed tone.

“Yeah but- nevermind,” I sighed as I fished twenty pounds out of my purse and handed it to him. “Thank you.”

“Night.”

I left the car, being careful to hold on to the edges of my dress so I wouldn’t flash my underwear to a passerby. Wind immediately whipped my ponytail up but I took hold of it to avoid ruining my hair. Although I was wearing a dress, I had a trench coat over top of it to protect me from London’s harsh weather. Walking aimlessly, I grabbed my phone and dialed Count Dracula. He picked up after three rings.

“I’m here. Where-”

“Behind you.”

I almost dropped my phone as I pivoted. 

“Fucking hell. Don’t do that,” I warned, I smacked my forehead with my free hand, laughing nervously. 

“You’re not in your work clothes,” he said as he covered some of the distance between us, completely ignoring the fact that he almost scared me to death. “You got ready for me?” 

“No. Yes,” I scoffed. “It’s a date, isn’t it? I’m dressed accordingly."

“Red suits you,” he commented as his eyes traveled over me. 

“Thanks,” I smoothed my dress absently. “You look nice, as well.”

Was this how Red Riding Hood felt when she was complimenting her grandmother just before she found out it was a wolf all along?

He wasn’t dressed much differently than his usual attire. Black always seemed to be his colour of choice and he looked fantastic in it. This time he had replaced his usual black blazer with a well fitted long coat. As I evaluated him, he shifted his weight on the balls of his feet which made his coat open lightly and gave me a peek of the rest of his outfit. The black button-up shirt was slightly undone -- the two top buttons, only -- but it was enough to showcase a bit of chest hair and arouse my curiosity.  I averted my eyes when he caught me ogling him.

Nope. No curiosity here. None at all. Llewellyn, please be my brain. 

Dracula grinned, probably satisfied that he managed to have some effect on me. 

“Shall we?” He offered me his arm.

“Where to?” I asked, accepting his arm automatically. 

“There.” He pointed.

My mouth opened and closed to which he chuckled. I let him drag me along with him as we crossed the road. As we approached the entrance to the Victoria and Albert Museum, I managed to find my voice.

“But it’s closed,” I repeated for the second time that night. 

“Not for us. No, not that way.” He pulled me back by my arm when I started going up the steps. “Come, I have someone waiting for us.”

“What, did you hypnotise someone in order to grant us entrance?” I turned to him as we walked so I could catch his expression.

He smiled and glanced at me.

“Oh, no. Much more mundane than that.” He lifted his free hand and rubbed his forefinger and thumb together in the universal sign for money.

“Bribery? Lovely. Lucky that I’m not a prosecutor, otherwise I would have serious trouble agreeing to a date like this.”

“Questionable morals are better than no morals at all.”

“Says you,” I shot back. 

He laughed at that. 

As we walked, I noticed that only my heels clicked. He was completely silent, almost as if he was gliding just above the ground. Even with him at my side I couldn’t hear his clothes ruffling. I couldn’t remember if I had heard him made noise on the last times we met. Perhaps the knowledge of what he truly was, vampire and murderer, made him more unnatural on my eyes.

Ahead of us, a man appeared under a lamppost, fidgeting from foot to foot. Taking that he was dressed in a 3-piece tweed suit, he wasn’t a security guard. As we approached him, he shot furtive glances up and down Cromwell Road. He was a small man, so much so that he appeared frail. His snooty face indicated anything but. Probably one of the museum’s curators. Behind him stood a garage gate that led into V&A Museum.

“You’re late,” he complained, barely looking at Count Dracula and I as he retrieved a set of keys from his front pocket. “I can lose my job because of this, you know.”

“Yes, we know. Be quick about it or I won’t pay you the other half as promised.”

The man blew out a breath and turned around to open the gate. The sound of jingly keys striking the metal gate made me cast glances around us. I caught Dracula making a show of doing the same and I dug my fingers on his arm.

“If I get arrested because of this-” I started.

“You won’t. Hurry up, Mr. Lyle.”

Lyle slid the gate open and I sighed in relief. Forgetting about pleasantries, I nudged Lyle aside and squeezed through the small opening, hauling the Count with me. Two cars and a small van were parked on one side of the car lot, which was weird since supposedly the museum would be deserted. An open door to our left allowed a yellow light to illuminate the way. Count Dracula disentangled himself from my grip and gestured for me to go inside as he doubled back to have a word with Lyle. 

I moseyed in through the doorway, fingers over my lips to withhold my gasp. The lights were dim at the center of room while light beams illuminated the contours of sculptures, creating an incredible contrast that made me think of a Caravaggio painting. The ceiling arched above the room in a skylight. Clouds on the sky separated briefly to give me a glimpse of stars. A figure approached me from my right, joining me in the haze. I expected to see Dracula when I turned my head but instead there stood a woman clothed in a white waitress uniform carrying a tray with two champagne glasses and an open bottle. 

“Oh,” I made, automatically extending a hand and taking a glass. A raspberry dance inside the glass as the woman poured champagne. “Thanks,” I said after she served me. A whoosh of wind behind me told me the Count had just closed the door behind him after entering. “He doesn’t drink,” I said when she moved to fill the other glass.

I saw the waitress staring behind me, mouth slightly agape as she looked at my date. He did look especially hot tonight so I didn’t blame her. I sipped my drink as I strolled around the room. 

“You can leave the bottle,” I heard him say. “And bring us the food as well. We won’t be needing you for the rest of the night.”

I stopped before a statue of a man attacking another one with a bone. It stood on a pedestal, adding power to the image created. I hadn’t seen it in years and yet it had the same impact on me. Both men were nude, the one with the bone subjugating the other one by pulling their hair and preparing a blow over his head. The beauty and elegance portrayed during a brutal act of combat always managed to resonate with a part of me I couldn’t put my finger on. 

I looked behind me, searching for Dracula and found him still standing at the door. The waitress was gone. 

“Do you know-” I interrupted myself, happily surprised by the echo my voice created when I raised it “-do you know the story of Samson?”

“Regrettably I was raised christian, so yes,” he replied, walking over to me. His annoyance made me smile. “Is that him?”

“Yes, Samson slaying a philistine,” I pointed at the label glued to the top of the pedestal. I didn’t need to read it to know what was written. “Always found it funny how he possessed such amazing strength, stored in his hair of all places, and all it took to beat him was to fall in love with a woman so deeply that he told her all his secrets. There’s a painting of Samson asleep on Delilah’s lap as a servant boy cuts his hair. It’s in the National Gallery though. But this Samson,” I circled the statue, admiring the details as I had done a thousand times, “here he is powerful, raw. There’s no love in him.” 

Dracula stood on the other side of the statue and we met each other’s eyes in silence. He was just watching me, eyebrows slightly drawn together.

“I came here for the first time when I was a young girl in a school field trip. I fell in love with this place and this statue, in particular. I don’t know why here of all places…” I was rambling now but he seemed willing to listen. “I’ve been to other museums in London but this one is just special. Used to beg my mum to bring me here every weekend but she didn’t seem to get my fascination with this place. I haven’t been here since I graduated from college. Sometimes I skipped school to come here and spent the day wandering the halls, emulating some of the statues when I thought nobody was looking. There’s a room here filled with paintings… I used to sit on a corner there, trying to memorise every detail and then go home and try to find it in everyday life.”

“I know. And you felt empty because you couldn’t.” He started circling the statue towards me.

“Yes…” I frowned. “People aren’t as expressive as art portrays. Most of the time they are just blank canvases. I started to feel like one after awhile.”

“Is that why you’re always so blunt? Because you don’t want to be a blank canvas?” He stopped before me, making me tip my head back to maintain eye contact.

“I-- I don’t know.” I was scowling now. “How do you know? That I felt empty?”

“I tasted it.”

I took a sip of my glass, as if that could help me digest that information.

“This place is one of the dearest things to my heart. You brought me here because you knew I would like it. What else did you find in my blood?”

“Ah but if I tell you, I’ll reveal my future plans for our dates,” he said with a tinge of playfulness in his voice. “You don’t look nearly as pleased as I thought you’d be to be here.”

I looked around me, inhaling deeply as if I could take the whole atmosphere within me. I knew that that the ecstatic, otherworldly feeling would leave me as soon as I stepped out of the museum. I only ever felt it in places like that, places so far removed from reality that everything I felt while there was unique to them. But to be there at night in complete silence, while nobody else perused the halls… It was unlike anything I had ever experienced. And to think I was there because of a deal I had made with a vampire. It didn’t matter that I was there so he could persuade me to accept eternal life. Right in that moment, it didn’t matter that Renfield was on a hospital, it didn’t matter that I had work tomorrow, it didn’t matter that my feet hurt because of my high heels, it didn’t matter that I hated Dracula and felt drawn to him at the same time. All it mattered was that I was there. 

I grinned, suddenly getting it.

“You weren’t just being thoughtful when you chose this place. Is this your first move? Show me the unequaled experience I can have if I give in to you?”

“And here I thought that I was playing our game remarkably well.”

“You are. You get points for this.” I sipped my drink as I kept my eyes fixed on him. His eyes fell on my throat as I drank. I had a simple velvet choker concealing his bite and I could see him regarding it with contempt. “Easy there. Getting points doesn’t mean you won our deal.”

“You torture me.” He licked his lips.

“Yes, it’s very fun.” I batted my eyelashes at him with pretend innocence.

“I should try it on you sometime. See if you find that fun, too,” he lowered his voice as he spoke, leaning closer as he did. 

I swallowed dryly, unsure if I wanted to find out. Staring at the curve of his lips, I was suddenly certain that I did. A rattling of cluttery and metal made me turn my head away from him and I silently thanked the waitress for being gracelessly loud. He was still hovering over me, literally breathing down my neck and I stepped aside. The waitress hauled a cart to where we were standing, a variety of food displayed elegantly. Shrimp cocktails, foie gras on toast, finger sandwiches, zucchini wrapped in prosciutto, and those were the ones I could identify. The opened champagne bottle was lying inside a bucket filled with ice.

“Thank you,” I said, immediately moving to grab a finger sandwich.

The waitress looked between the Count and I, her cheeks blushing. So she saw what she had walked into. Count Dracula moved to my side, a 100 pound note between his fingers extended to her. 

“Here.”

“But that’s way too much.”

“Take it and leave.” A hint of irritation on his voice. He was obviously pissed because she had interrupted us. 

She took the note and hurried out of the room, disappearing through an arch at the left. I chewed my food, barely tasting it when Dracula turned to look at me. I sustained his gaze, thankful my mouth had work to do otherwise I would chew on my lip in nervousness. 

“Oh,” I made after I swallowed. “I almost forgot. I brought you something. Can you hold that?” I offered him my glass.

All traces of anger left his face as he grabbed my glass. He took the champagne bottle and topped off my drink, gazing at me curiously as I scrambled through my purse. He returned my drink as he accepted the book I had extended to him. The curious expression on his face fell away and his brow furrowed slightly as he stared at the book before raising his eyes to mine.

“Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea?”

“Thought you might enjoy the reading considering you’ve been there.”

His thumb flickered through the pages although he kept his gaze on me. 

“Clever. Renfield told you?”

“He’s able to hold a rational conversation, by the way.” I took a big gulp of my glass. “Have you read it? It came out before you took a nap under the sea.”

“No, haven’t had the opportunity,” he said as he narrowed his eyes. “Did you buy this just to spite me?”

“No, it’s from my library. You can return it to me after you finish reading it.” I smiled widely. “We’re even now.”

“How come?” “Well, you know more about me than I’d like you to, quite unfair this thing about tasting people’s lives in their blood, and I know more about you than you’d like me to. So… Even.” Though I kept my tone light as I spoke his face remained serious. “It wasn’t my intention to make you mad and I’m not threatening you, if that’s what you think. So quit it. Was it peaceful down there?”

He was absolutely unmoving, almost statuesque. I was beginning to think he had completely shut down when he clicked his tongue and straightened his body, elegant all over again.

“It was much like a dream, actually. A hundred years passed but it didn’t feel like it. All I remember this perpetual hum that is unique to underwater. Quite annoying after a while.”

“Annoying…” I repeated and chuckled. Of course he would find it annoying. I gathered that not much could surprise him or captivate his attention after centuries of existence. “C’mon. Get the bottle.” I jammed a shrimp in my mouth as I spoke, kicking off my shoes at the same time. 

“What are you doing?” 

I placed my glass on the edge of Samson’s sculpture and shrugged off my trench coat. Dracula watched me intently and when a shiver ran down my skin I knew it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. 

“Lose the coat,” I told him after I grabbed my glass again, the raspberry floating on shallow waters, or champagne in this case. “Lose it, c’mon! You can take your shoes off if you want to.”

Finally, he placed the book where my glass had been and removed his coat, throwing it on top of mine and then picking up the champagne bottle.

“What are you doing?” he repeated. While his eyes were puzzled, his lips tugged up.

I bolted, cutting through the room towards the large wood and gold arch that led to the rest of museum. 

“Keep up, Count!” I shouted, my laugh echoing after me. 

My muffled steps hitting the marble floors as I rushed through the museum was the only sound throughout the whole building and it made laugh more. As I ran, the memory of Renfield telling me the Count could kill me just as easily as he could turn me resounded on my head. Either way I would be dead and one of them seemed to be more appealing right then. But I didn’t want to entertain the possibility of actually considering immortality just yet. Count Dracula had given me one gift so far, one that had made me so ridiculously happy that I was running across rooms of art and history like an excited girl. If I wasted that moment by wallowing on my bitterness towards him or what had become of Renfield I was sure I would hate myself forever. 

“Bittersweet,” I whispered to myself as I ran, almost out of breath. “Not bitter.”

Bringing me here after hours certainly had made me warm up to him, while still retaining the knowledge that this date was clear attempt to convince me… or manipulate me. But that was how dating worked in the world. People manipulated, trying to dazzle one another until someone gave in to love. Love wasn’t part of my deal with Dracula, though.

I had passed the fashion section, as well as the sculptures section already which meant I was close. I made a turn and found the room I had been looking for. Splashes of white veined marble and golden yellow on the ground and columns made for an incredible scenery combined with the fresco ceiling. On my left stood a staircase in the same architectural style but in brighter colours than the rest of the room. I was familiar with it yet I still found myself decelerating to take in its beauty. I turned my head to look behind me just in time to see Count Dracula making the same turn I had just made. 

“Nearly there,” I told him, rushing up the staircase and looking behind me to see if he would follow.

“It’s not a good idea to make me chase you,” he warned, taking two steps at a time. 

“Oh, I’m terrified!” I mocked.

Winding down a few more corridors, I finally found my intended destination. The rectangular room was big enough to hold the size of my home over three times. Scarlet walls peeked behind paintings. Some of them were as tall as I, some small enough to fold and put in a pocket for safekeeping and some were as big as an entire wall. And all of them were painfully beautiful, much like all paintings from the Baroque era. 

“What do you think happens when I catch-” he interrupted himself as he entered the room, his jaw slacking “-you.”

“I wouldn’t dare wonder,” I said between ragged breaths, taking the bottle from his hand and serving myself. Amazingly after my marathon the raspberry was still safely inside my glass.

The Count slowly strolled in the room, head turning as he admired the paintings until he finally met my eyes again.

“This is the room you told me about. The one where you would sit and memorise the details.” He stared at me, and I nodded. 

“Did you have a favourite place to be? To contemplate?” I sat on the center of the room to regain my breath, swinging my legs to the side in my best attempt to conceal my underwear. I set the bottle and glass next to my legs and then raised my arms to free my hair of the, now ruined, ponytail. I shook my hair to let it cascade freely.

He tipped his head back, looking at a Vermeer painting at the very top of the wall closest to us. Seeing as he was momentarily distracted by it I took the opportunity to watch him without feeling like I was doing something wrong. He had a strong and sensuous profile at the same time. He had done horrible things, I reminded myself, hoping to feel a hint of rage or repulsion but those emotions were nowhere to be found.

“Not a place. A person, yes,” he replied, still not looking at me.

“Agatha?” I guessed. 

He swiveled his head then, a light smile on his face. 

“Yes. She was fascinating.”

“You killed her, didn’t you?”

His smile faltered and he walked to my side and sat down to my left. 

“I did.”

“Why? You liked her.”

“Well, she did try to kill me first,” he said and I narrowed my eyes at him. 

“Pleading self defense won’t get you absolved with me. What did she do?”

It was his turn to narrow his eyes in slits. 

“For one, she set me on fire. And then she rigged the ship we were in to blow up. I ripped her throat out before it exploded. It was a mercy killing, really.” He blinked softly at me.

“Will you kill me at the slightest annoyance?” I asked, sliding closer to him. However ill-advised it was, perhaps snuggling up to him would grant me answers as to who he was at his core.

“I have no intention of killing you whatsoever.” He took a strand of my hair between his fingers, playing with it, but he kept his gaze on mine.

“Even if I try killing you?” I got so close to him that the question was uttered inches away from his lips. 

“Even if." He threw my hair behind my shoulder, his eyes half lidded. “There is nothing that you can do to stop me from making you mine.” Every word was a whisper, like this conversation was intimate even for the faces inside the paintings around us.

“Why am I enough and Agatha wasn’t?”

“Self-preservation. If I had made her my bride she would continue her crusade on undeath to destroy me. But you, my darling, want me, even though you don’t think so.”

“Delilah wanted Samson, too, and where did that get him?” I whispered.

He scoffed, a grin taking his lips.

“Ah my Delilah,” he said scornfully. “No, you’re Samson. Sweet of you to think you can bring me to my knees-”

“I can.”

Our noses were nearly touching. A familiar thrill of doing something forbidden made my heart run leaps and bounds. 

“Care to show me how?” 

A dangerous game to play with him but I was never a quitter. I opened a large grin for him, one I hoped was as predatory as the ones he gave me. Taking my glass, I slowly gulped down the last of my champagne, keeping an eye on the hungry look that popped on Dracula’s face. After I was done, I reached inside the glass and pulled the raspberry out. 

“Cheers,” I said, smirking as I stuck the fruit on my index finger.

I stood on my knees briefly so I could swing a leg over him. My smirk turned wicked as I settled myself on his lap, delighted about the frown on his face, like he was slightly angry that I would tempt him this way. His hands came to rest on my waist as I rose my hand, taking the raspberry carefully inside my mouth and sucking my finger as I withdrew it, all the while maintaining my gaze on his. His dark eyes seemed to become even darker as he watched me. Still not satisfied, I rolled my hips on his lap until I felt a growing bulge between my legs and he let out a moan. 

“Admit it,” I breathed, struggling to keep my composure as I kept moving. “I can bring you to your knees if I want to.”

His adam’s apple moved as he swallowed and then smiled.

“No, my darling. All you managed to do is tease me,” he muttered. 

One second I was sitting on top of him and the next I was trapped between him and the hardwood floor. I gazed up at his eyes, unsure if I should fight him off or not. He had my wrists on his grasp, successfully pinning me down as he ground his hips on mine until a moan left my lips. He dipped his head, making me think he was about to kiss me but then he changed directions at the last second. He started planting soft kisses on my collarbone, veering dangerously close to my neck. 

“You made your- oh,” I was saying and then he moved his hips again, rubbing against the exact right spot. My legs wrapped around him like they had a mind of its own, causing him to grind against me another time. “Okay, you made your point.”

He lifted his head to look at me and I caught a glimpse of red in his eyes before it faded. A sudden touch of wistfulness made me frown. My scar tingled and I instantly knew where the wistfulness came from. It was stupid of me to think I could actually win that game when I had my bond to him working against me. But now that I reflected upon it, what drove me to do what I had just done was just me - the rational part of me. Somehow it was worse that I had done that in my right mind.

“But that was only the opening statement,” said he, smiling deviously at his own pun.

“I should go. I have to be at court at 8am and it’s getting late.”

Cogs turned behind his eyes as he processed what I said, a crease forming between his eyebrows. I nodded at him once as an incentive for him to let me go. 

“Don’t let it get to you,” he said, releasing my wrists and lifting some of his weight off of me.

“What?”

“Desire isn’t logical. You may think you have it under control but the leash only stretches so far before it breaks. You can’t control everything, Y/N,” he said. 

“I can try,” I untangled myself from him, almost shoving him aside and stood up so swiftly that I became dizzy. I pulled down my dress, my cheeks suddenly burning. I looked at Count Dracula, now sitting on the floor with an elbow resting on a propped knee. “I’ll show myself out. Don’t forget the book, I think you’ll like it.” I blew out a breath. “Thank you for tonight. This was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.” I felt a lump on my throat as I spoke and I forcibly swallowed it down. 

How did it get to the point where the person that I hated the most was also the one that was the sweetest to me?

Dracula knitted his eyebrows as he gazed at me. 

“You’re welcome.”

   .

.

Taglist: @festering-queen​ @dreamer2381​ @thorin-smokin-shield​ @mr-kisskiss-bangbang​ @hoefordarkness​ @girlonfireice

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [13]

Masterlist

~^*^~

Your eyes fluttered open. The amber sun beat down on your face through the cracks in the curtains. Your phone buzzed excitedly on your bedside table. With a groan, you reached out, missing once but grasping it firmly the second time. Eyes a little blurred, you answered.

“Hullo?” You asked groggily.

“Good morning, Princess, did you sleep well?” Dracula’s voice rang through.

“Very.” You hummed.

“Good... I’ll be back in a couple of days. Behave yourself and I might just be tempted to show you a little gratitude for it...”

“I have no idea what that means but you have fully intrigued me.”

“Ahh, now you have just a fraction of an idea on how I feel about you.” A smile broke out onto your face at his words.

“The most romantic thing anyone has every said to me and it’s from a vampire.” You playfully mused, rolling your eyes.

“So that is where we are,” he pondered, “a budding romance?”

“Ah, well, no, I didn’t mean it like that-“

“I think I like that very much.”

Your smile softened. And then your phone began to vibrate once more. Zoe was trying to call you. Your heart faltered. You hadn’t heard from her in so long. Worry had begun to settle in your gut, but here she was calling you.

“Drac, I’ll have to call you back.” He tried to protest, however you cut him off and answered Zoe, “Zoe? Is everything alright?”

“[First].” She spoke slowly, voice weak and having lost its character.

“Zoe...?”

“You need to come to London...”

“What’s going on? Why? Why do I need to come to London?”

“I’m in the hospital...” she told you slowly. She kept gasping quietly for breath, “my health... deteriorated... I was moved to Westmoreland Street hospital... the oncology ward... bring all your files and come...”

“What about Jack...?”

“He arrived yesterday... his friend, Lucy... is about to die...”

Your heart swelled with guilt. You had caused that.

But could you go back to London? Could you return to the place that you had once fled? Where every street had its memory - most more than painful - and every place that you had ever been there tainted with heartache. Zoe had beckoned you to join her in what you suspected were her final days but you didn’t know if you could. Over the last two years, she had become a stand-in mother figure while you were so far away from your own. She was your mentor, and your inspiration. How could you go and watch her die? How could you go and relive all that heartbreak only to create more?

~^*^~

You closed your eyes, not wanting to see the city rise up from the horizon. Already, you missed Whitby. You missed the screech of the seagulls, the constant whisper of the waves, the groan of the boats coming up and down the harbour.

A good 20 minutes later and you were hauling yourself and your bags off of the coach, wishing that you weren’t here. The familiar and unforgettable scent of London filled your lungs and you almost burst into tears right there. But you didn’t. You simply pulled up the handle on your suitcase, held your canvas bag tightly and began to walk. The coach had stopped opposite Regents Park station, and you knew it wasn’t too much of a walk to the hospital. It was a short journey. Soon you were navigating through the winding halls, trying to decipher where on Earth the oncology ward was. After asking several nurses, you found yourself outside of her door.

‘072 A

Zoe Van Helsing’

You wanted to cry for her. Your fist rapped on the door and you entered. She was lying back, head elevated slightly with cushions. Her once glowing skin was pale and opaque, matted with deep bags under the eyes. Her lips had pastelled and cracked up. She didn’t look great.

“Hi, Zoe.” You greeted softly.

“[First], you came.” She didn’t push back the tired smile, but her voice gave away her exhaustion.

“Of course I did.” You set the bags down, walking towards her side. Closer up, she looked even worse.

“Jack... asked about you...” she told you, “his friend... Dracula has been drinking her,” she stopped, just for a moment to weakly cough, “blood.”

“I...”

“She was an old friend of yours... wasn’t she...? You must be upset.”

“...not really... our friendship ended on bad terms.”

“I...” her eyes looked past you, as if she was looking at another person. You turned your head, seeing no one, “see...”

“What? What is it?” You asked her softly.

It was probably the high dosages of medicine making her hallucinate. It was the only explanation. You sighed.

Her eyes fluttered a few times before slowly closing. She was clearly exhausted. Whispering your goodbyes, you left the room and plucked up your bags. Just as you were turning to leave, very familiar male.

“Hey!” You called. He turned to look at you and then began to walk a little faster, “stop!” You called. Reluctantly, he turned and gave you a nervous smile, “Renfield, right?”

“Sorry, Miss [Last], I didn’t realise it was you.”

Yes you did, you slimeball you thought

“That’s okay!” You smiled sweetly, “can you do me a huge favour?”

~^*^~

Renfield shuffled a little away from you as you turned your head up to smile at him. It was obviously fake and very much forced. He gulped. You wanted to laugh. You had seriously unnerved him but you didn’t care.

He began to panic in his own head beside you. The lift pulled you up to the penthouse suite. Dracula had given stern orders that no one was to visit, except for... well, she wasn’t an issue anymore, she was dying. But Dracula had only mentioned this sweet [First] [Last] as his “lady in the North”. He often neglected Renfield’s plans to visit you for a few days. However, the lawyer couldn’t see what he saw in you. He rubbed at the scar on his neck.

When the doors opened, he stepped out and you happily trailed behind him. His shoes clicked on the floor until he came to the wooden door.

“Stay here for a moment.” He commanded, voice growing with nerves.

He carefully opened the door so that you wouldn’t be able to see inside and slipped away. Dracula sat at the head of the table, reading on his kindle. He had grown very close with it, having realised just how many books the tiny slab of plastic contained.

“Count Dracula...” Renfield began.

“Why do you sound so guilty, Renfield?” Dracula apple, not looking up from the page he was reading. He was playing with his fingers with his free hand.

“There is a lady here to see you...”

“Ah,” Dracula looked up, “so soon? I knew she was a lively one... though I did expect her to be trapped in her physical body... perhaps she was much stronger than I anticipated.”

“N-no, Count Dracula-“

“Enough. You can go and sort your work out. I’ll entertain our guest.”

Renfield retreated immediately. He knew Dracula had grown fond of you but he didn’t know if he would be angry that you had found him where he occasionally had the other lady around for... activities.

Dracula’s pace was slow. He knew that on the other side of the door, he was heard. He was prowling, testing the impatience of the person waiting for him. He was teasing.

His fingers reached out. He grasped the handle. He pulled.

“Just the very person I was expecting, much sooner than I expected thou-...” his voice cut and trailed off. His eyes locked with yours. He was genuinely shocked to see you standing before him, smiling. You let a small giggle pass your lips and had he had a beating heart, he knew it would have skipped a beat at the sound, “[First]?” He managed to ask through his question.

“Who else were you expecting?”

You already knew the answer, and the pain in knowing that she was openly welcome to this place radiated through your chest. But the reminder that she was dying due to becoming acquainted with him, whilst you still bloomed with life gave you some peace on the matter.

“My goodness this is a shock.” He breathed.

“Not to quote a close undead acquaintance of mine, but will you invite me in?”

He breathed a laugh. He could sense that you were angry at him, but you still joked around with him. You were smiling through the pain. Goodness, how he admired that on you.

“No.” He deadpanned, “I’m demanding your entry.” The wicked smile appeared on his face and you pushed back a laugh.

You made your way in, admiring the darkness of the room. A long table ran the length of the room and a tall, slender window was covered to conceal the sunlight. There were purple and cyan lights and it was very pretty.

You wondered where Renfield had disappeared to. There were a few doors and you wondered where they lead.

Dracula’s hands slipped over your own for a moment and the contact sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. He lifted the suitcase and the bag from your grip and moved them, setting them down by the door. You watched him move around. He seemed very much at home here, but after two months, you supposed he would in a place he could fully call his own. He fit in very nicely in the sophistication of it all.

“When did you get here?” He inquired.

“A few hours ago. I took a coach.”

“You took a coach? That must’ve taken so long.”

“Six hours. And then I went to visit somebody...” you didn’t want to say who.

You knew that over the time Dracula had been coming back to visit you, he had also been having secret meetings with Zoe. She had never told you this. You had found out yourself during your absence when Jack directed you to her office to find some paperwork he needed. You had found the diary entries, dates and all, documenting her meetings with him. He had been the one to diagnose her cancer (her blood had been poison to him - which both horrified and intrigued you), she had drunk the rest of the sample of his blood that she didn’t send off for testing, and they had been meeting secretly for months.

Count Dracula had proved himself to be somewhat of a playboy, managing three maidens all at once.

You scoffed.

“What?” Dracula, who had sunken down into the chair nearest to you, looked up at you.

“Nothing.” You shook your head.

“You must be tired, I suppose. Do you want to lie down for a while?”

You simply hummed and nodded. He stood once more, gently taking your hand and leading you towards one of the doors. He paused.

“Renfield!” He bellowed, “fetch some food for our guest! And make it nice!”

You stifled another laugh as he pushed open the door and pulled you through. The next room was similarly as dark and featured a beautiful black four poster bed, with black satin canopies. The bedding was silk, and glistened. Pushed against the wall you had just entered through, to the left was a matching black wardrobe and on the opposite side of the room beside the window was a matching tall chest of drawers.

You audibly gasped at the sight. Dracula smirked at your reaction. But then the memories of what had happened here filled his head.

Did he feel guilty...?

“Impressed?”

“Very much, Christian Gray.” You joked.

“[First],” he warned lowly, turning to face you, “never ever quote that book again.” He turned away from you, “at least I know what BDSM is now.”

“You actually read Fifty Shades...”

Oh, how badly you wanted to laugh at the thought of a well-mannered and charming gentleman reading such a book.

“It was recommended to me.” He stated plainly.

“Believe me, Drac, that book doesn’t even scratch the surface of BDSM.”

You pulled your hand out of his and he turned his head so quickly you would be surprised if he didn’t end up with whiplash. He eyed you. You bit your lip in order to prevent the laughs. And then he did the most unexpected thing. He trapped you in his arms, bringing you close as they slithered around your waist. You were pulled into him, the mere feeling of him holding you knocking the breath from your lungs. He lowered his head, connecting his forehead with yours.

“I suggest you stop right there, darling.” He whispered.

“I’m tempted to carry on now.” Your eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Yes, carry on, see where it lands you.”

Your eyes flickered to the bed and back to him. Both of you seemed to have the same thought and you began to laugh. Hard. The ridiculousness of it. Part of you was tempted to bring up a certain movie scene where a mating between a vampire and a human lead to an utterly destroyed bedroom, but you opted against it.

You planted your forehead on his chest as you laughed into him. The sweet sounds that came from you vibrated through him and he found himself holding onto you just a little tighter. He threw his head back, inhaling deeply. Slowly but surely, the room was being taken hostage by your scent.

When your laughter had died down a little, Dracula released you and you stepped back to look at him. Your eyes truly did sparkle in every light, didn’t they? Was it simply the life flowing through your veins? Or were you truly just that special?

He announced to you that he’d leave you alone to rest and your eyes lingered on the door after he gently shut it. Sighing, you turned and decided to have a little root around the room. You began at the wardrobe, opening the doors to reveal many freshly ironed suits, crisp shirts, some sweats and other items of clothing hung up neatly and colour-coded. You scoffed. Trust Dracula to have a colour-coded wardrobe. Then again, being awake 24/7 must end up proving to be extremely boring.

The next place you looked was in the chest of drawers. Everything was seemingly normal, until you found yourself opening the bottom drawer.

Women’s clothes?

You tugged a t-shirt out you gasped at the shirt beneath it. It was so recognisable. The eyeliner stain was still there.

~^*^~

You laughed as Lucy began to swipe eyeshadow all the way out towards your temple. Clearly she had gotten bored with doing a nice job with your makeup and wanted to start clowning around a little. She swapped out the eyeshadow after a moment with her brightest liquid lip and began to paint it on your cheeks, and your laughing caused her to lose the grip.

The applicator fell, not without leaving a vibrant mark on your white pyjamas.

“Lucy!” You whined.

She was too busy laughing at your despair to help. So, you did the only thing a teenage girl could think of doing. You grasped her liquid eyeliner, ripping open the lid and began to draw lines up and down her arms.

She began to laugh harder with the sensation and then, you began to swirl a dark mark into her pyjamas. She only laughed, and you couldn’t help but join her once more.

~^*^~

You dropped the t-shirt immediately and pushed yourself back. Due to the fact that you were crouching, you toppled backwards and landed on your backside. You drew in a breath and waited for Dracula to come in and find you snooping. He’d make a stupid remark at you being so nosy and would most likely forget about it sooner or later. But he never came. Instead, there was silence.

Not wanting to look inside of the drawer anymore, you kicked it shut and flopped onto your back.

So she had been here? She had been in his bedroom? She had been so often that she needed to leave clothes? So she had been staying the night... how many nights? You couldn’t help but think about what they did during that time.

Dread filled you as you pondered on it longer and longer.

Why hadn’t Dracula ever invited you down to London if he had such a beautiful home here? Did he wish to conceal his close relations with Lucy so badly from you? It must’ve been her he was expecting. You wondered how disappointed he must’ve been when he opened the door and realised that it was you and not her.

You couldn’t stay here. You had been awake since 5am, and had been on a coach since 6am. You needed your sleep. It was only 2pm. A few hours wouldn’t hurt, as long as you left before the sun went down. If you planned it correctly, you could even get the same coach back to Whitby.

Pulling yourself up, you made yourself to the bed. When you sunk down, you were surprised to find that the mattress was memory foam. The sheets were slippery beneath you. You didn’t like them much, if truth be told. Maybe Lucy had picked them out...

Instead of thinking about it anymore, you shut your eyes and regulated your breathing. There was no point on dwelling on it. She was as good as dead.

When your eyes fluttered open, the room was pitch black. From outside of the room, you could hear the soft hum of music. What time was it? You pulled yourself up and your legs were wobbly with having just woken up. You pushed past it and made your way out of the room. A soft light hit you and at the sound of the door opening, Dracula turned to look at you.

He had a glass before him, it was half full. He ignored it, however and strolled towards you.

“Did you sleep well, darling?”

“Is that what you asked her every time she stayed over?”

You were too tired to process your slightly bitchy attitude. He cocked an eyebrow. Then he sighed.

“She didn’t stay as often as you are imagining.”

“But she’s stayed more than I have.”

“Trust me, I’ve spent more time with you.”

“Did you sleep with her?” You asked sharply.

“Would you prefer my honesty or will you flee in anger again?” He was treating you like a ticking time bomb. Good.

“Just tell me. I need to know.”

You did. You needed to know how she had won him over. How she had won another person against you. Whatever she did, she was too good at it. If this tiny piece of closure would help you heal, then god damn it, you needed it.

“Fine...” he took a step towards you warily, “only... when I drank her blood... and only here. Every other time I drank her, we were in less intimate places...”

“How many times...?” You could barely speak louder than a whisper. Your heart was pounding with what you could only describe as jealousy. But why on Earth were you jealous?

“Three times.”

Your bottom lip trembled.

Why did you decide it was a good idea to inquire about such things? Why did it hurt so much? When had you grown so attached to him?

“... why not me...?”

“Why not you?” He repeated, “darling, because I have more respect for you than that. And should our blossoming romance progress, I’d rather not drink your blood. Not again. It is much too valuable.”

You turned away from him. If he saw the tears in your eyes, he’d pin you as weak. You weren’t weak. You were devastated that Lucy had wormed her way in between you and another person. Maybe you shouldn’t have come here.

“I’m gonna go, Drac.” You whispered.

“You’re leaving so soon?”

“Yes, I haven’t been to see my parents and-“ you lied, voice shaking, “I should go and see them.”

“At three in the morning?”

It was 3am?

“...yes...?” You lied once more but you sounded more unsure of yourself than ever.

“I suppose I cannot convince you otherwise. However, I am indebted to you. May you allow me to pay you back?”

“You aren’t in debt to me-“

“That’s where you are wrong. Indeed I am. I left a very beautiful lady alone at a ball after only one dance. Will you indulge me in just one more?”

He extended his arm to you and you looked at him in disbelief. Did he have to do this now? You didn’t want to think of the consequences if you didn’t; besides, you couldn’t leave now that it was dark, he’d follow you.

“Only one.”

“Thank you. Sincerely, thank you.” He smiled softly at you, “and instead of waltzing you around, we shall dance a little closer to how your generation does it.”

What?

“Hold up, if you think for one second I’m gonna grind up on you, you are wrong-“

“I’m not going to ask how you came to that conclusion. Now take my hand, darling.”

He truly was mesmerising when he wanted to be. You were a moth and he was the burning light. He drew you in even if you knew he was dangerous. Even if he would kill you, something inside of you screamed to get closer and closer evermore to him. You took a few steps forwards and took his hand.

Gently, he pulled you into him and wrapped his free arm around your waist. Your other arm came to rest on his shoulder and he pulled you just a little closer.

‘My lover’s got humour, she’s the giggle at a funeral, knows everybody’s disproval, I should’ve worshipped her sooner’

You scoffed quietly at the song choice. Slowly, he swayed your bodies, relishing in the feeling of you. Again, he could hear your pulse. Dear lord, he was begging whatever force there was to keep you this close. He had never in his 500 years imagined to meet somebody like you.

He could stay like this with you forever and he would be content. Absolutely, utterly content.

“Take Me to Church?” You whispered questioningly, “I thought you shunned anything holy.”

He chuckled.

‘The only heaven I’ll be sent to, is when I’m alone with you, I was born sick but I love it’

“I suppose this is an expection.” He whispered back.

He slightly tightened his grip, wishing to feel the beat of your heart against his chest. You sighed a little at the closeness. You shut your eyes and disconnected your hand from his, and instead wrapped it around his neck. His now free arm worked it’s way around your waist.

“Why?”

‘I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife, offer me that deathless death, good god let me give you my life’

He pulled you ever tighter, inhaling your scent. You buried your face into the crook of his neck. Here, his aftershave was strongest. You liked the smell of it. The feeling of your youth, of your life made Dracula feel more alive than he ever could devouring other humans. The rush of adrenaline he got with that was nothing to the way he felt holding you like this.

God, what was happening to him?

“Because it reminds me of you.” He whispered into your ear, pressing a tender kiss to your head.

~^taglist^~

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[goblins-riddles-or-frocks]

Moffat Dracula Review

Plot Summary For People Who Don’t Want To Watch It:

Dracula corners Jonathan, Mina, and Sister Agatha Van Helsing in a secluded convent in Budapest following Jonathan’s escape from his castle. The castle sequence itself is explained in flashback as Jonathan recounts his experience, leading up to the realization that he himself had died during his stay there. 

Realizing he’s now become some form of undead creature, he attempts to kill himself via a stake but is unsuccessful. Despairing at this, he invites Dracula inside the convent in exchange for a true death.  Agatha and Mina are able to stay safe within a circle of sacramental bread but everyone else is massacred. 

When Mina sees Dracula disguised as Jonathan approaching them, she invites him inside the circle. He of course reveals his identity immediately after. Agatha bargains her own life for Mina’s, so Dracula allows the other girl to go free.

Some time later, Dracula sets sail for England aboard the Demeter, a Russian ship with a strangely high number of wealthy passengers and a bluebeard’s cabin no one is allowed to enter. He quickly picks off the passengers one by one, meanwhile himself leading the effort to find the murderer onboard. 

This culminates in the remaining passengers finally searching the ship— and the mysterious cabin which is revealed to have been hiding a sickly Sister Agatha inside. She explains that Dracula is a vampire and together with the passengers they attempt to kill him by setting him on fire. But it is unsuccessful. Agatha urges everyone to escape on lifeboats because she intends to blow up the ship with her and Dracula in it before it is able to reach England. 

Dracula does not die but remains dormant under water. He reaches Whitby roughly 100 years later and is immediately captured by the Jonathan Harker foundation, lead by Agatha’s descendant Dr Zoe Van Helsing. He leaves captivity fairly quickly however with the help of Frank Renfield— a lawyer he hired over skype. 

Zoe is revealed to be dying of cancer. Dracula offers her his blood to heal her but it doesn’t seem to work. It instead gives her a bond to communicate with her dead ancestor Agatha, which gives her more insight about the vampire. 

Meanwhile, Dracula begins preying on Lucy Westenra, a young socialite. Despite leading a seemingly perfect life, she is wholly apathetic and disgruntled with her situation. She allows him to feed on her in exchange for the high a vampire’s bite can give her. He attempts to turn her into a vampire but she’s burned horribly once she’s cremated following her funeral.

Her death leads Zoe and Jack Seward to where Dracula has been staying. During their confrontation however Lucy returns, and after learning about her appearance, begs Jack to kill her, which he does. 

Zoe asks Jack to leave so she may speak to Dracula alone. She surmises that all of Dracula’s weaknesses are actually ineffective. The only thing he fears is death, and humanity’s willingness to die, She then... resolves to sit down and die right there. But at the last moment Dracula drinks her cancerous blood which should in turn kill him... they make out while dying... The end?

If that sounds like it makes no sense, it’s because it doesn’t. 

Final Thoughts:

The plot was nonsensical and the pacing was very poor and completely unstructured. The story itself bore little to no resemblance to Dracula at all, to the point where I wonder why they even bothered to keep the names. 

Most of the characters were new, and the few that were ported over from the Stoker novel had hardly anything in common with their original versions, Dracula included. 

Jonathan was the most in character of the bunch, if he was fairly more genre savvy while stuck in Dracula’s castle. Mina’s characterization seemed to be confined to a single flirtatious letter, an endless well of trust for Jonathan, and constant sobbing. She was more of a liability than anything else. 

Agatha served the role of a genderbent Van Helsing, though her manner was entirely lifted from the Coppola film. This could’ve been very cool if they hadn’t randomly made her a nun without actually committing to it at all. She was not really portrayed as having any actual lived experience as a nun in the victorian era. And faith as a concept was only touched on for her to dismiss— hilariously casually given her position.  

I think the actress’s performance was fairly decent, and she def grew on me in the second episode when she’s not actually in a convent to constantly remind us how dissonant of a nun she is. But it would’ve been nice if they would’ve either committed to actually making her a nun, (a legit vampire hunting nun could be so cool!) or just abandoning the concept altogether. Because the way it was presented just felt like window dressing. 

Also I’m not normally averse to shipping Van Helsing/Dracula but having to genderbend one of the two just to do it is like... hm. Also the weird tension they had going on was very badly executed in general. 

Speaking of Dracula, he had to be the weakest part of the show. He was written in the smuggest, most infuriating way possible. And it might have worked with another actor but this dude just did not have any gravitas or stage presence whatsoever. And it certainly was not helped by the fact that his costuming and makeup were so fucking lackluster. 

Despite being the linchpin of the story, he had no goals nor any particular drive. He was just out there doing Stuff for Reasons and none of them were compelling. It seemed like he was just killing to kill and the writing was not good enough to actually carry any of the vague themes about how he’s looking for new brides (why?) how he’s searching for a The Perfect Fruit (what???) or anything at all really. He had no depth whatsoever beneath his stupid quips and self-satisfied demeanor. 

There was an interesting implication that he needed to choose who he drinks carefully in order to maintain his own personality/sanity/sentience and that without blood he’d… apparently just become like any of the zombies we saw in the show. And that is such a cool concept! But it was not really  explored, nor was it written all that well. Even though it could’ve been (and I think was maybe intended to be???) an excellent source of existential dread! 

But yes, in general there was hardly any depth to this show. They played almost every possible card they could for shock value, and included many unnecessary and frankly underwhelming esoteric concepts that went nowhere. There was so much gore and random effects. We had zombies, vampire infants, and Dracula legit wearing people’s skins. The lore didn’t make any sense either, apparently people just… being unable to die despite their body’s so called death is a common occurrence? It wasn’t clear whether Dracula even had much control over who he changes and whether or not they become proper vampires. The entire thing just seemed poorly thought out. 

There were a lot of easter eggs and references to previous Dracula adaptations (and even some unrelated vampire media). I definitely noticed nods to the Hammer Horror movies and the Lugosi film, which was fun. The biggest noticeable influence however would have to be the 1992 Coppola movie. I have never seen a show try so hard to be another movie lmao. They even went so far as to make a spiritual successor to the film’s main theme that’s about as close as you could probably get without actually licensing the music. 

However, while the Coppola film at least had skill with regards to the costuming and cinematography to carry its aesthetic, this show simply did not. The costumes, the makeup, and the special effects were all lackluster. The set was nice enough but was not shot in a way to really leave much of an impression. 

The first episode was abysmal— mainly due to Dracula’s awful performance (those disgusting fungus covered fake nails, that age makeup, that ACCENT) and the entire awkward af scene where he terrorizes a convent of nuns while naked and covered in blood. But it was at least so bad it was funny.

The second episode was the most tedious to me because it was less offensively awful so I couldn’t even enjoy the badness. There was definitely a sharp uptick of quality whenever Dracula was offscreen for any notable amount of time though. The passengers were rather boring but I liked the crewmen. And Agatha honestly killed it for the latter half. 

The last episode was by far the worst and yet the most entertaining because they just stopped trying at that point. 

Renfield was amazing and an absolute delight every time he was on screen. Dracula found him over skype for God’s sake, how can that not be fantastic? He actually utters the words “Dracula has rights,” and his argument somehow actually fucking works.  

And even Dracula himself was far less insufferable with the shift in dynamics. By being forced to cope with the modern world, he could no longer act like such a smarmy, self-assured know it all. Seeing him freak the fuck out at the sight of helicopters was genuinely fun. 

Lucy’s handling was misogynistic af though. It was bafflingly, needlessly awful. And the way she was vilified at the very end was appalling. They almost had an interesting deconstruction wrt her utter malaise for her life, and the implication that she actually resents her beauty. But then of course she gets burned alive, and then is treated horribly for it by the protagonists. 

Even though it’s clear she has no idea what’s happened to her body, Zoe doesn’t even bother to explain it to her. She just makes her take a selfie of all things so she can see what she really looks like. It didn’t seem like the show had a shred of sympathy for her, because “oh, clearly she was a narcissistic bitch and she deserved what she got” or something like that?? 

The utter indifference everyone has to her death is baffling. It was an afterthought, that seemed like its only purpose for existing was yet again just shock value. The scene, after her death, immediately shifting the focus back to whatever weird personal rivalry that borders on sexual tension  Agatha/Zoe and Dracula have going on.  

But all in all, this adaptation had me baffled, frustrated, and cringing through most of it. It was unintentionally funny quite often and I honestly enjoyed it, but for all the wrong reasons. I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to melt their fucking brain.

[jq37]

Have you done breakdowns of the last few episodes yet? If not 👀

**spoilers for a new york wedding**

Prologue: I had a partially free day today (as in the day I started writing this which is now two days ago) so I decided to swing by Central Park and check out the Bethesda Fountain where I saw both a proposal and a man on a segway with a live snake around his neck so, yeah, New York is just Like That.

"Here's a possibly magic crown. Why don't we ask the butt stuff guy about that?"

The face Brennan makes when Emily says, "I used to do colonics at the salon," is great. Like, "We are two minutes into this ep, your sentence isn't even complete, and I already can't handle it."

So they get out of the sewers and Bethesda Fountain has been attacked (which is a shame just aesthetically because, having now seen it in person, it's a really pretty fountain). Em is devastated and explains that the fountain is like a Important magical symbol of good change and a source of divine purification magic.

Another side note about the fountain: There are these little cherub figures around it in additional to the Angel. I wonder if those are sentient too. Also-also, the promenade across from the fountain has these cool murals of the seasons. My point is, there's a lot of fodder for possible lore just in that small area of the park.

Misty finds ashes by the fountain (concerning) and wipes it on Kugrash's fur (rude).  

I love that Emily thought Pete was pouring one out (one being one bag of cocaine).

"Sophie, your magic is that you're a wonderful person and you jump really good."

"The Bread Wedding"

Kudos to Brennan for all the wide range of crazy voices he had to do in this ep. Don Confetti. The Golem. Perry the Pigeon. That can't be easy on the throat.

Sophie is fully ready to fistfight Don Confetti over their last names which is wild for a lot of reasons we're not gonna get into.

So Brennan has everyone roll a Wis save and everyone did OK except I think Ricky. Brennan never explains why he had them roll that. Concerning. I'm wondering now if it was something that would have needed a nat 20 to save from it or something where the people who saved didn't realized they saved from it and the people who didn't are just ticking time bombs or sleeper agents or something else awful.

Pete is such a dangerous friend to be around when you're emotionally compromised. His solution to everything is drugs.

"It's an off-white!" --Misty upon being called out for wearing white to a wedding.

Brennan has Perry go on a wild 39 second monologue about relationships that Pete interrupts by stuffing drugs down his gullet--see again my previous bullet about Pete.

Sophie notices that a lot of the pixies recognize her which pm confirms her brother is In This which, to use the word of the day again, *Concerning*.

Emily having Sophie get really emotional but also struggling to keep the laughter out of her face is always super funny to watch.

So Pete finds a table of vampires. Brennan spends a couple of minutes describing them before he gets to it outright but it's pretty immediately clear they're vamps. Well, vamps plus a suspicious older guy and a girl (Melissa) who seems to be playing Renfield to the vamps. Getting high so they can drink her blood and get high. Pete brilliantly confirms this by getting the suspicious guy (Rob, as far as we know) to go off on Politics and then deep mind-reading the girl. That's one of the most clever RP things I've seen a player do. Pete also sees that Rob is hanging out with the vamps but he doesn't seem to be one.

Pete fails his wild magic check but nothing happened that we know of. A lot of stuff on the wild magic table is situational though (like the reincarnate spell from Bloodkeep with the potion Sohkbarr drank).

Rob implies he knows what happened with Pete's dad. Pete goes into a tailspin, as if he isn't constantly in one.

Everyone dancing so they can talk in public instead of just, like, having a sidebar. Just that entire sequence is peak comedy.

Ricky, the good boy, is dancing with his pigeon date while everyone else is mystery solving (or, in Soph's case, crying in a closet or something).

Rob is supposedly in finance. Last time there was a character involved in finance/banking in D20 it was the whole KVX fiasco in FH.

"Did I use up my favor? I could have had anything in the world."

Sophie upon seeing anything young woman in any kind of situation immediately springs into action, ready to drag them out by any means necessary. I love her.

Robert works at a hedge fund and Kug recognizes him. Brennan explains how he knows him in a very vague way which the rest of the table clocks instantly. Murph asks if Rob knows Gabriela. He does. Who the hell is Gabriela, Misty and I wonder.

Emily goes galaxy brain and theorizes that the bad guys are laundering souls which is equal parts bonkers and brilliant. The camera unhelpfully *doesn't* cut back to Brennan so I can attempt to read his DM poker face. I am reminded of Emily wondering if [redacted] was in the sword in a recent ep of Naddpod and Murph just deciding that they were on the spot because it was cooler than what he had planned. I know you can't win at DnD but I think Emily is winning at DnD.

I mentioned this in passing I think last recap, but Pete's magic is really interesting to me because Pete doesn't know what his character sheet looks like and he's not someone like Kingston or Ricky who's been doing their thing for a while and knows that they can do and what the things he can do are called. So Ally has to get a little creative about activating abilities (like True Strike in this ep) without being too meta, if that makes sense.

Kug knows Rob from a while ago (from the 80's he later says) but he doesn't seem to have aged. The group is thinking vampire, but he wasn't drinking blood in the memory Pete saw. Suspicious. Put a pin in that with everything else on my conspiracy board.

Misty: Eyyyy Macarena!

Kug kisses the pigeon. Sure.

Misty/Siobhan also does a clever thing and suggests taking a selfie with the vamp table in the background to see who shows up. Only Melissa and Rob do, so they're not vamps for sure.

So they go back to Kingston's place and he, Pete, and Sophie cook for everyone which has basically nothing really to do with the plot but I think it was a nice character beat for them.

Kingston and Misty fought a mummy on Long Island back in the day. As you do. Sidenote, when I was in Central Park today (two days ago), I passed by a big-ass obelisk that apparently exists and that I am *certain* Brennan has lore for, even if it doesn't come up.

Misty, a very wealthy Broadway star: If you pay for the Metropolitan Museum, you're a Goddamn fool.

Sophie had not put together that Misty is a fairy before now and I was like ??? for a second but, actually, with the info she has, that's not necessarily the conclusion she would draw. She could just be a really short lady with magic. It's been that kind of week.

Kingston presses Kug on how he knows Rob and Kug reluctantly confesses that HE USED TO BE A GUY. Zac blindly guesses that he was a stockbroker which is ALSO CORRECT.

"movie horse breeder" is such a specific job to pull out of thin air.

Siobhan, making a choice: Let me tell you about my good friend, John Wilkes Booth.

Brennan's total break of composure when Zac/Ricky says, "I wasn't always a firefighter." Zac lowkey has the best comic timing of everyone on the squad. He's just really understated about it.

Anyway, there are levels to this. How long has Kug been a rat??? I feel like it must have been a while because of all the weird ass stuff that he does. Also, he excuses a lot of his behaviors due to being a rat considering he's actually a rat-MAN, emphasis on the man. The stock broker thing surprised me more considering that Kug is introduced doing some pretty altruistic, non-stockbroker-y things. Did Kug piss off a homeless witch and get Beauty and the Beast-ed? He never actually answered the question about how he knows Rob since everyone got sidetracked by the fact that he used to be a whole-ass HUMAN MAN. Did Rob curse him for less moral lesson reasons? What's going on here????

Esther and Ale have been researching. The grey baby is apparently named Nod, just like the place, and it (it specifically, not him or her) like the ruler of there.

There's this whole group bit Brennan, Ally, and Siobahn do about how you can take the L train really far and then catch a shuttle bus that can only be seen by the pure of heart to get to Nod and it's really funny but how funny would it be if they actually tried to do it in a dire moment and also Ricky could do it for sure send tweet.

Kingston is trying so-so hard to keep everyone on task all episode. Bless him.

Kug asks Esther about her mom, which surprises her. He says they used to be friends (Did *SHE* curse him????). Esther says she hasn't seen her in a long time, since she was 5 or 6. Of course, it's easy to want to connect this to the Gabriela he was asking about earlier but we'll see about that. I think I saw some people speculating that he's Esther's dad which I'm even more skeptical about considering what we learn later but wouldn't that be wild?

Ricky decides to shoot his shot with Esther. His brain is full of love, determination, civic responsibility, and absolutely nothing else, bless his golden retriever heart.

Brennan as Esther drops the best stealth joke (though, it has a very high likelihood of crossing from joke to plot point) in D20 so far with the Imperial Axiom/Sinatra's Law explanation. It was a full, "Wait. What? Oh!" Big gold star for Brennan for that one. I had to take a second and recover from that when I heard it the first time.  Beyond the joke, it also seems like a likely hook for the eventual Big Bad of the campaign. First NY, then the world, you know?

The fact that the highways go against the grain of magic leylines of NY in this world is such a good detail and it makes a lot of sense intuitively.

Zac breaks Brennan again with the, "Traffic's really bad," comment.

Please let Ricky's big dumb puppy self win over Esther. "It's really hard for me." Riiiickyyyy.

So Kingston goes to see Willy, the Williamsburg golem about Lazarus from the Bible (New Testament). Aren't golems de facto Jewish? I think. I am correct. However, as much as Willy doesn't know about the New Testament, he *does* know about the Statue of Liberty which is convenient because--shoutout to the people who figured it out in advance--Lazarus is not Lazarus from the Bible. It's Emma Lazarus who wrote the poem on the Statue of Liberty. This of course means that I need to do a close read of that poem at some point but not today baby because I need more information before I start going full Pepe Silvia. Sidenote: What a great place for Kingston to be when figuring out that info. Close enough that Willy can just point out the statue. It's cinematic. Fantastic.

(Also, I made a post about the fact that Siobahn just knew Emma's name off the top of her head, but when it cut to the other side of the table, Emily's eyes got all big too).

Emily gets a nat20 which RUINS her plans because she runs into Isabella aka the woman her husband left her for. They have an adult Means Girls stand-off where Sophie finds out they're getting married (or at least having a ceremony bc Dale didn't send her divorce papers yet). Big ups to Emily for staying in character and ditching all the sleuthing she was going to do because there is no way Sophie would be stable enough for that to be her top priority at the moment (even though I really wanted her to do all that stuff!)

Also, I'm looking forward to watching Sophie rip her to shreds when she inevitably turns out to be a succubus/demon/fiend/whatever. Honestly, she can just barfight her and I'd be satisfied.  

So Misty goes home and finds a present waiting for her. It's a big ass mirror. Correction. It's a big ass mirror that Titania immediately uses to angry Skype her. Yikes.

It seems like her shoes of Titania are literally that, stolen from Titania (love that Titania was barefoot in her character art btw). I know they let her cast a certain spell in an earlier episode but I'm wondering why she stole them. Maybe they helped her cross over from Faerie (which happened ~400 years ago we ind out)?

Titania is pissed that Misty is stealing "glamour" that should be hers (via playing her in the new show). Glamour in the fairy sense is like a disguise. Glamour in the DnD sense is a fey-based bard option (which is the class I'm guessing Titania will be if they have to fight her). Curious to get a deeper explanation on that later.  

Misty is able to cover back up the mirror but she breaks a hip in the process because of Titania's mojo and has to call Kingston. I already said this but I love their relationship.

(Sidenote, I meant to mention this earlier, but I think whiffs of the undead came up a couple of times in this ep which makes me wonder if the mummy situation Kingston mentioned is going to come back).

"Please, use any one of the guestrooms."

I FORGOT ABOUT KUG'S STUFF AT THE END

Ugh, this ep is an emotional roller coaster

"Wherever you are Rat Jesus, know that I love you. From Wally." What a good boy. 

Everyone reacting to Murph's reaction to Wally before they Find Out is like, an experience. It's like that airpods meme.

OK, I'm not going to go through a whole play by play because nothing I could say would be better than watching the scene but I guess Murph/Bren decided in for a penny, in for a pound because we find out via a conversation between Wally and his businessman brother David that he is Kug's SON. HIS SON. S O N.

Wally is convinced that their dad wouldn't have just left them. David thinks Wally is being naive. I want to die.

Everyone around the table except maybe Ally is so visibly upset at this new information and Ally goes, "FUCK!" at the end so you know we all express emotions in different ways.

God, it's so sad! And I'm not gonna say, "I knew it!" because I didn't. I super didn't. But when Wally was introduced (man that scene hits differently now) I remember thinking, this is such an oddly specific NPC. Like, you know when you're playing a game and the stuff you can click is slightly better rendered and you can kind of tell what you should focus on and what's background art? That's how he felt.

Anyway, again, I'm sad. (GMYeah!.gif)

Watching *OVER* you Murph. OVER you. That's how you make it not creepy!

Meanwhile, Pete lets a bunch of bug monsters out of his dream into real New York City which, tbh, I'm not surprised. This seems like the kind of thing that would happen. Pete is exactly the worst kind of person to be the dream avatar in terms of being responsible.

I love that Siobhan is like, “I have a broken hip” as if all but one of them don’t have literal magic powers. That’s a very fixable problem compared to other stuff they’ve dealt with that day alone. 

Anyway next time, a wasp centaur (thanks, I hate it) and a nat 20! See you then.

[sugarcomatosed]

Dracula Rehearsals, Night 2 of Blocking

AKA, Mina gets to do stuff. 

The only time in the entire show where all five actresses are on stage! That is how we began. 

I got to lay on a table and let me tell you it is a comfy table. It is supposed to be a bed but we don’t have the bed yet, so it’s a table.

“You’re all not really the vampires here but the dark thoughts in Mina’s head-” “So they’re my anxiety.” “Yes, Margarita is exactly right.” 

I am 99% sure I am going to be the golden child bc I read the book and have lots of questions about things from it. I brought my cute edition, it was well received and also useful. Director had me look up a passage for Harker later in the night.

Also a rosary from like my first communion has been inducted into the props department, everyone loves it. My dad found it while we were watching Jaws. Like i was supposed to.

"Can we perch over her" "Please don't I'm fragile" "No save that for Harker-" "-pause" "-everyone laughing-"

“That was stupid who told you to do that.” “You.”

“You’re running like ridiculously far, Mina’s a fucking badass.” 

I have to nyoom around and there’s a lot of “this will be easier when we have platforms” so i don’t have to imagine 

“Invade her bubble.”

“You know what it’s going to be easier for all of this if it’s one bed. So you two are sharing a bed.”

“This will be a lot less awkward when the scripts are gone.” as everyone keeps getting thwacked with papers. I hit Lucy in the face multiple times in the bench scene.

“Can we do that?” “Probably but I can’t say yes yet.” “Okay cool.”

“so they’ll be behind the bench so I can’t be there-” “I HAVE A NAME.” 

“...is Renfield here?” “No.” “Oh.” “Well Seward isn’t here either.” “OKAY PERFECT MOVING ON. MINA, LUCY BACK UP HERE. 

"You just got news your husband is alive!" "-Harker waves from the audience- hey!"   "-waves back- Hi! you’re not dead! And in Budapest!” 

“Lucy is anemic she can’t carry the chair out.” 

Next Scene aka “The Bastion of Creepy Shit #2″

“We should rename the play that, the Bastion of Creepy Shit.”

"Do you mean sick like, Harker's sick or like SICK.""The second one.""YES!"

The collective sound of everyone shuddering during the brides creeping on Harker. 

Speaking of Harker, he was literally just chilling.

“You need to lay down.” “That’s my favorite thing to do.” 

"So you're scared, you think it's sexy and also it's kind of wrong"

"Congrats on being an excellent food source! -affectionately taps Harker's shoulder-"

Dracula has narrow hips.

"And then you wake up from a nightmare." (from the audience) "And I'll be there then!" "-thumbs up-" "-thumbs up-"

“Baby noises.” 

“oh god that’s awful.” “that’s like this show’s tag line.”

“And then he looks at you and you get the hell out of there, you just know better.” 

#hugrule

"Just so you now, that'll be a kiss in the show, okay?" "-nodding-" "Come together is ambiguous, I figured hug or kiss." "No no that's valid, it'll just be a kiss." "Fist bump!"  "High five!" "Clearly the gesture romances are built on."

“Did we hug before that or was that our first time hugging? I was like thinking about that as we hugged.” 

“no we did, last semester.”

“-hugs Harker- Smooch.”

“oh! So that line’s about Dracula!” “yes,” “I’m saying, wow, he sure is fucking creepy. -stares directly at friend playing Dracula- Like what a weird looking dude.”

“AND THEN. JONATHAN. WAS THERE. WE WERE WALKING. AND HE WAS HOLDING MY ARM. HE SHOULD BE ON STAGE, NOW.”

Sugar and the game of “Spanish pronunciation does not go here.”  

“Ethan do you want to be included in this hug circle.” “Sure.”

[my-fanfic-library]

Something Different {BBC Dracula x Reader} [26]

Masterlist

Warning: soft smut scene ahead.

~^*^~

One... two... three...

Dracula counted the boxes up, careful to remember what was inside. Some contents deserved a little rougher treatment than others. This room, shrouded in darkness, with boxes stacked parallel to the walls was his favourite room. Though he kept it under lock, and had announced to anyone willing to venture into his apartment that it was just a store cupboard, he liked this room very much.

The newest box was sitting in the middle of the room. Dracula smirked proudly at it. This has become his hobby in the last few weeks. Perhaps this little act of cleaning up would get himself into someone’s good books.

The buzzer rang and he turned, stalking out of the room. He knew who it was. It was one, long buzz before cutting off. Locking the door tight, Dracula slipped the key into his pocket and made his way over to the door. Jack stood there, shivering and wet.

“Come in, Jack.” Dracula grinned.

“You’re happy.” Jack retorted.

“Of course I am. How is she today?”

“I haven’t been. I told her about Mark going missing. Her mother isn’t doing too good. She wants to go home. You don’t know what happened to him, do you?” Jack sent an accusatory look at the vampire who frowned immediately.

“Why would I inconvenience myself with something like that? You know I’m busy trying to find Renfield.”

“Right. Sorry.”

Jack stepped further into the room and looked around. It was the same as it always had been. But the scent of you had long gone. Now it was just him and Dracula.

“Did you find any leads?”

“No.” Jack huffed, “nothing. Just the same as last time - still in Southend.”

“That’s not far, though. We’ll need to be on our lookout.”

Jack suddenly got the urge to sneeze and inhaled sharply. A new scent filled his nose, which made his toes curl in disgust.

“Have you showered recently?”

“That’s rude.”

“There’s a stink.”

“Are you sure it isn’t you? You’re damp. Like a dog.”

“It’s not me.” Jack glowered.

“There is no stink.” Dracula insisted darkly.

“You’re probably finally rotting.” Jack mumbled.

“I may be 524, but my age hasn’t impaired my hearing.”

Jack rolled his eyes and slammed his bag down onto the table. Within a matter of minutes, papers full of maps, screenshots and everything in between were scattered over the surface, both men searching for any leads.

It had been two weeks since Dracula had tracked Daniel’s IP address and he now knew your location. He couldn’t bring himself to meet you, though. Something about it felt wrong. He really did feel like a predator...

~^*^~

How had things turned out like this? The past two weeks, the vampire hadn’t really been on your mind. But right now, when you wanted him the least on your mind, he was all you could think about. Your legs straddling someone else, another man’s length filling you, your moans for a different person. Yet, all you could think about was Dracula. Dracula, whos fingers could make you come undone a lot faster than this. Dracula, whos words alone could make you weak in the knees. Dracula, who wouldn’t be lying below you, holding your hips, but would be above you, pinning you down just as you liked it.

His hands weren’t the same. They weren’t as possessive. They were lazy, with no drive. His words didn’t feel the same. They didn’t settle in your gut and leave a burning heat in your stomach. His mouth didn’t feel the same on your scar. No tingle went down your spine and it just felt like chaste. He didn’t bother helping your body. He didn’t even move his hips to help you.

Trailing your hand down your bare stomach, towards your core, you imagined those large fingers, whispering sweet nothings on your skin.

Finally, at the thought of his fingers replacing your own, you began to feel something. It wasn’t intense, but it was there. It lingered in your stomach and maybe if you concentrated hard enough, you’d be able to come. When had sex become so boring...?

You closed your eyes. Instead of seeing one, in your mind’s eye, you began to see the other. Gripping your hips so hard, bruises would form, grinning up at you, rolling his head at the way you felt around him. His hand would come up to your throat, silencing your moans, forcing the air out of your lungs so that everything was focused on the pleasure.

“Come, darling,” his hushed voice would whisper and it would be enough.

It wasn’t like it should have been. It was jolts of pleasure, ebbing away as quickly as it had come. You didn’t see stars, you just felt... better for a split second.

Your sudden high had made him come undone, too, and when you clambered off of him, a stickiness was collecting between your thighs.

“I’ll be back.” You sighed, making your way to the bathroom. You sighed once more, locking the door and turning to the mirror.

Not a single mark on your body. Except for his. That beautiful ridge on your neck, the shape of his mouth, destined to be on your forever. Oh, why did he have to come into your head like that? You pressed your hands against the counter, looking down into the sink for a moment. When you looked back up in the mirror, it took every part of you not to scream.

Behind you, perched on the closed lid of the toilet was the mangled and burnt Lucy. You chocked.

“Surprised?” She hissed.

“...Lucy...” you managed to whisper. You were too afraid to turn around. What if she really was there?

“In the flesh.... well, most of it.” She shrugged, “didn’t you learn the last time?” Her voice was estranged. It was like the sound of freezing cold water hitting a white hot pan. It sizzled and burnt into the nothingness at the end of each word.

“Learn what...?” You were terrified.

“With Daniel...”

“I-... we aren’t dating but that’s none of your business, like last time.”

“I’ve made it my business. He’s coming for you.” She changed the subject, eyeing you.

“I know.” There were about three different “he’s” that she could have been talking about.

“He’s angry. Better watch yourself. Or you’ll end up like me.”

And she was gone.

You looked down at your hands, they were fiercely gripping the counter, shaking. You could hear Daniel calling your name from outside the door, but you ignored him.

~^*^~

“I’m telling you it’s more logical!”

“Which is why he won’t be there!”

“How would you know?!”

“Oh, I don’t know, how about because I’m a vampire - for starters - and I know all the tricks in the book? I’ve got 524 years of experience, Jack.” Dracula narrowed his eyes. He was starting to wish he had killed him when he had the chance.

Jack made a noise of frustration and took a step backwards from the table. He needed to recollect his mind. No, he needed to get away from Dracula before he smacked his head so hard against the table that it exploded.

“If you insist on being an asshole, I’m leaving for a bit.”

“I’m not being an asshole. I’m telling you how it is.” Dracula scowled.

“You’re being an asshole and I’ll be back in like an hour.”

The autumnal wind send a bitter chill down Jack’s spine. He didn’t mind. The rustling of the leaves in the wind reminded him of where he is. Like the headstone didn’t.

He sighed, shoving his hands into his pockets as he stared at the stone, reading the words over and over. It still felt fresh. He still couldn’t believe her fate. After everything she had done, after all of her hard work, God had truly let her down.

“You were the best person in the world, and a mixture of cancer and a vampire killed you. That’s kinda badass.” Jack spoke quietly to her. He wondered if she could hear him, “I’m worried about [First].” He confessed, “I feel like... I feel like she’s about to end up the same way you did. Or Lucy. I don’t know how to stop it from happening.”

Over the rows of final resting places, past the chapel, under another tree, stood a figure. Jack fumbled in his pocket for his phone. He rushed to the tree, ducking behind the trunk, hoping that he hadn’t been seen.

“Miss me already?” Dracula’s cocky voice rang through the phone.

“He’s here. He’s at the cemetery.”

~^*^~

“Renfield!” Dracula called, as if greeting an old friend. He didn’t know where Jack had hidden, but he supposed it would be inside the chapel. All holy things still didn’t go well with vampires...

“Count Dracula.” Renfield spoke with a cool tone. Dracula had a feeling he wasn’t forgiven for throwing him off of the balcony quite yet.

“It’s been a while.” Dracula stated.

“Indeed. The last time we spoke, you threw me over your balcony.”

“You did try to eat my girlfriend.” Dracula scoffed, amused.

“Yes, is she still with you by any chance?”

“No. You can’t have her. We’ve been through this.” Dracula neared Renfield.

“If she’s not with you anymore, then she’s not under your protection.” Renfield mused, “there is nothing to stop me, Count Dracula.”

“There is - me. No matter where she is, or who she is with, there is always me to deal with before you near her. I will have no quarrels throwing you down another 20 storeys, or perhaps a cliff.”

“Are you threatening me, Count Dracula?” Renfield laughed in astonishment.

“Yes.” Dracula stated.

“Good. This will make it interesting.”

~^*^~

Dracula and Jack argued into the night. Dracula was desperate to get near to you now. He had told Jack he knew where you was, but had been faithful to his trust and not gone to see you. He had kept his distance like promised. But with Renfield hot on their heels, it was only a matter of time before he found you and Dracula needed to be with you. He had to know where you were at all times. The only place for you was with him if you wanted to live.

Jack, however, was convinced that as long as you were with Daniel, there was no way Renfield could discover your location. No one would suspect you to be with the person who had driven you away in the first place.

No. Absolutely not. Dracula knew where you should be and it wasn’t with the one person who had hurt you so badly.

The argument lasted most of the night until Jack finally had enough. His exhaustion had gotten the better of him and he needed to sleep so badly. Dracula offered him his sofa, and Jack swore that if Dracula touched him, you would be the first to know. The blackmail worked. Jack woke unharmed and the next morning, the argument continued.

Dracula had the worst gut feeling he’d ever experienced.

“If you don’t take me to her, while I’m giving you the chance to, I will go and fetch her myself!” Dracula bellowed.

“Dracula, she isn’t coming back here!”

“No. You’re right, she’s not coming back here. So take me to her and I’ll take her somewhere safe. Okay?” He tried to calm his voice.

Before Jack could speak, his phone rang out. He answered without looking at the caller ID and Dracula watched the conversation before him unravel.

“Hello?... are you okay?... what’s going on?... calm down... alright, okay... no, don’t... I’m coming... no... because... I’m not— no... well, that’s not your decision... yes, I know you have and I know that but-... fine... give me ten minutes.” He hung up and looked at Dracula, “grab your coat.”

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