#vlad has no understanding of the fact that people are allowed to move on with their lives | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 3 years

Note

i saw your post about Charles and what his personality past and part in the story line so i was wondering if u could do the same for vlad? :)

Ah, well, I can at least let you know what I’ve seen so far? I haven’t delved too far into Vlad, and some of his general impressions can be confusing, so I’ll do my best to make it sensible and unbiased! Here you go lovely <33333

Fair warning, there will be mentions of a lot of JPN app content since Vlad and his boys aren’t around much in the ENG app yet.

My general sense of Vlad is basically discount vampire Sasuke Uchiha.

What I mean by this is to say–according to what I’ve read so far–his clan/family were murdered by vampire hunters in cold blood when he was just a young boy. Presumably as a result of that traumatic event, he harbors a sizable enmity towards humanity and kind of lashes out on them in weirdly specific moments of violence. Another aspect of his motivation is something that’s mentioned within Comte’s route; which is that Vlad went through the timespace door on his own one day and allegedly saw a devastated future, where nothing remains of life on earth more or less.

I guess the reason I find him to be so perplexing is that he speaks about his actions in terms of efficiency, while most of the things he does just feel like unhappy outbursts (v often a product of unresolved trauma symptoms, I’d wager.) I also say this because he appears to have no larger pattern to his fury beyond the original event of his loss. Most of the human beings he attacks aren’t much of a threat to him and hurting them really doesn’t bring him any dividends beyond revenge.

For instance, he insists his disdain for humanity and insistence on controlling them is for the sake of ensuring they do not destroy the future–the horrifying wasteland he witnessed when he traveled through the timespace door. However, I’m not really sure how his current movements really speak to that goal? I mean sure, maybe he’s relying on Faust to create an immortal human so that humans will be forced to care because it will be their future too, but he doesn’t allow Faust to draw his pureblood blood for experimenting. (One can most certainly argue this was more about a lack of trust, and perhaps for plenty reason: Faust is vindictive enough to try to turn the tables and exert control over Vlad, or act on his own whims with his findings.) But if that’s the solution he’s waiting on, turning the rivals of the men in the mansion doesn’t really bring him any closer to that vision either? I mean, what good does it do to bring back Gilles de Rais–a prominent French serial killer? How would unleashing him on the populace help humanity “realize the error of it’s short-sighted and wasteful ways” and move to a brighter future?

Can’t help it, I ask these questions as I read.

In Comte’s main story, Comte hammers home that Vlad is not somebody to be taken lightly. One day when MC goes out to buy flowers, Vlad poses as a human florist to sell them to her–which is how Comte finds out he’s in France, and that he’s made contact with MC. When prompted, Comte describes him in a very particular way; and I think people really overlook this when they talk about their relationship. He says that Vlad is frighteningly pure in terms of the way he thinks and acts. The way I understood his description (given what I’ve seen of Vlad) is that Comte really does mean it point blank: Vlad is very simple in terms of why and how he does things. The issue with this is that nuance and context are lost on Vlad as well–and that’s where the problems start to flood in. Vlad is angry at humanity for what they’ve done to him. Baseline? That’s fair, they killed his damn family. However, Vlad thinks that by extension he has the right to decimate the general public and attack people completely uninvolved in his hurt.

And that isn’t right either–it’s ignoring so many factors here. He’s ignoring how much vampires use and toy with humans as pawns, it’s ignoring the massive power imbalance between him and his victims (this really isn’t a case of self-defense most of the time, nobody but Comte/Leo is a sizable threat to him), and he’s ignoring whether or not a person even did anything to deserve his retributive violence. While murder is never okay, it is perhaps more understandable when we see Jeanne’s frenzied and violent belligerence in response to a man who murders a boy’s mother for the sake of his own amusement/convenience. Vlad literally sees almost every single one of the rivals he created begin to heal/improve and murders them in cold blood because they are no longer of any use to him. That’s uh……..that’s a little messed, not gonna lie to you chief.

While part of me understands the efficiency here–he doesn’t want to leave any traces of his involvement, he doesn’t want any loose ends–it’s also just kind of foolish and cruel ultimately. From my understanding of the narrative, all the people he turned had some visible sign that indicated their origin to Comte. So even if he claims it was for the sake of concealment, it was more likely about his personal convenience. Which…..also yikes.

[Comte clearly does not trust Vlad to be reasonable, and I think there’s plenty of good reason enumerated above, but I actually don’t sense quite so much hatred? I think he’s just given up on the idea of Vlad growing up, even if he doesn’t like giving up on people. And considering Vlad’s behavior, I think it’s overkill to say that Comte just abandons him because he doesn’t care lmao. Even when Comte expresses real anger at the end of his own route, it was more because Vlad was fine with endangering MC’s life just to get back at him. I think Comte’s unhappiness with Vlad has more to do with Vlad’s treatment of human life as meaningless and worthless. It’s fascinating but also kind of sad? Vlad’s traumatic experience results in behavior that is a direct exacerbation of Comte’s trauma, and as such--no matter their potentially fond history--they can’t stomach each other.]

In Comte’s route, Vlad also has Shakespeare abduct MC and take her to the cathedral. Later on in the castle, we see an immediate display of Vlad’s shocking powers: he has the ability to manipulate people’s desires/thoughts. I’m not exactly sure how this works, but he is able to give MC visions of the mansion and Comte coming on to her–which shocks her into realizing it’s all just a dream. It’s not reality; it’s all manufactured by Vlad.

After that...weird introductory note...Vlad gives MC the rundown on his life together with Comte, which as always is subject to a question of bias. My assumption is that he did not lie, only because he was trying to convince MC that he was “right.” Furthermore, he does not omit the most damning evidence of his erroneous judgement, which suggests a continued inability for him to see where he went wrong.

We get a series of three flashbacks. The first is them as young kids. I don’t know if Vlad had already experienced the horrors of his family being destroyed, but this particular flashback focuses on Comte. His parents, in an effort to teach him that vampires and humans have no ability to co-exist, send away all of his teachers/mentors/nannies/the servants--pretty much everyone and anyone he was closely bonded to. Think about it this way: we can see that Comte is very sociable and affectionate by nature. He was living in a house full of people, all of whom cared about him and looked after him in their own way. Now the house is entirely empty. Naturally Comte is very very upset, and Vlad appears to try to cheer him up with little success.

[When I look back on this scene I don’t think I initially registered the sheer dissonance of Vlad’s reaction, versus Comte’s catatonic misery. There was a very solemn feeling to that memory, and the correct choice in terms of extending comfort is to hold his hand believe it or not. There is a sense that he feels very alone. When young boy Vlad enters one can argue that it was the proper thing to do; he was trying to cheer up his playmate and friend. But at the same time, I think I need to double check. Because I’m beginning to wonder if I was wrong. What if Vlad was happy to see someone as alone as him, and that joy is accordingly dissonant for that reason? He can’t see what Comte needs or how he’s hurting because he’s so glad he isn’t alone anymore in a way.]

The second flashback is the war nurse scene that I have spoken at length about. The important thing to focus on here is Vlad’s surprise that Comte would opt out of turning her out of respect for her wishes. The way Vlad frames the situation is starkly different from Comte’s. Comte sees himself as an outsider, somebody who invaded her life as a result of the timespace door and therefore has no right to suddenly change the course of her fate. He had no idea if she even wanted to live (considering the horrors she’d have to cope with and remember) or leave that time period at all, for that matter (considering the only thing keeping her going was helping the wounded/victims). Comte really was listening to everything she had to say, and he was taking her concerns and motivations seriously.

Vlad simply says: if you want her, take her. It’s as simple as that for him. And in one way that’s not entirely wrong--assuming Comte would have every intention of looking after her and actually cares a lot about her. But what’s being ignored here is her agency and the fact that they really don’t know each other that well? Something like that could begin and be rocky, if it doesn’t end in complete disaster. Worse, I get the feeling Vlad is perfectly fine with the notion of turning her and if things don’t work out, just kill her or get rid of her. Again, the simplistic thinking comes into play here: it ultimately comes down to Vlad being self-centered. He’s thinking only in terms of satisfying his needs, he doesn’t seem to have any concept of a larger pair or group feeling. There’s an inability to bend/be flexible for the sake of maintaining a greater harmonious feeling.

[For the record, I don’t think this makes him irredeemable? Only that it makes it very hard to live with him or love him, probably. There’s an inability to live at a joint pace? It’s always answering to what he wants without room for anything else most of the time, which to me is not living and it’s not love ;;;;]

Following their escape back to their own time, Vlad explains how he wants to use the door to turn geniuses and control humanity. He eventually wants to create a surveillance state, which would mean everyone is forced to move with his explicit approval, more or less. (He almost reminds me of Louis XIV, can’t tell if that’s what they were going for.) I have my doubts that his abilities could extend that far, but human history shows us that we are plenty susceptible to fascist and totalitarian rhetoric. In a shocking display of anger, Comte draws the line at controlling humanity and forcing them into a regime in which, and this is Vlad’s description not mine, “we (purebloods) would be like kings.” There’s definitely a concept of evolutionary superiority at play here, which echoes what I mentioned earlier; vampires seem to have this awareness that they’re apex predators in a sense, and enjoy the power that comes with that. Unfortunately, that probably makes for a fairly toxic/uncomfortable larger species culture, which is exactly what Comte and Leo hate lmao.

Vlad does not seem to find any issue with this sort of outlook, and asks MC to decide which of them--Vlad or Comte--is right. Who is more realistic, who best understands the future? As expected the MC replies that it's Comte, and Vlad goes from beseeching to big mad at record speed. He's p much that gif of the teddy bear that smacks its head down on the tables and then has the angry eyebrows.

This is where Comte intervenes, firing a warning shot that grazes Vlad's cheek and demanding he let MC go. In response, Vlad shoves MC into the turbulent timespace door--p much guaranteeing MC's death. (Essentially timespace is a void of sorts, a human being could never survive in that environment for long. Vlad fully knew this, and yeeted her anyway.)

So uh, yeah. Disagreement? Death. Moving on? Death. Nuanced approach to reality? Death. Beginning to think he doesn't really have a lot of patience or open-mindedness or any other kind of problem-solving approach.

He raises flowers and gardens like a fiend, and he openly plucks any single flower with a blemished leaf. Even if a single petal is slightly damaged, it will be removed and destroyed. So one could argue his extremism reflects a kind of perfectionism as well. No room for errors or troublesome dissent. No ugliness of any kind. I mean in all of his interactions with Faust and Charles this is the overt undertone. Don't ask more of me than I'm willing to give. Behave like good children, mommy's busy. Is that insubordination? boss music begins

One thing I actually don't understand very well is his decision making in Dazai's route. Dazai finds out about what Vlad's doing in a nanosecond when he senses MC is in danger, and yet Vlad makes absolutely no move to eliminate Dazai? He just watches from the shadows. Even when Dazai grills Charles about his loyalty to Vlad, no retribution.

My best guess for this specific situation is that Vlad does derive some level of satisfaction thwarting the future of human beings/former humans. Dazai--being somebody with no great desire to live, no rivals to speak of as far as we can tell, and no larger aspirations--is a life that is easily extinguished. There's no satisfaction in it. When Vlad's clan was murdered and he saw the future decimated, it could be that he felt humans had invaded and eradicated every potentiality that was important to him. Where he might have lived happily with his family, that future was ripped from his grasp. Where he might enjoy his flowers and the creation of an immortal for the rest of conceivable time, that too was ripped from his grasp with a desolate future.

So much about who Vlad is is about control, so it's very possible his lashing out is an extension of that. Dazai does not awaken any of the disdain he feels, and he does not succeed in overthrowing Vlad's control over Charles, so Vlad simply lurks in silence.

And last but not least, I've seen the preview to Vlad's newest birthday event story. The contents are incredibly revealing, in that MC wishing him a happy birthday and offering him a gift has him saying that it was "the best birthday ever." Granted idk if that’s sweet or just...beyond sad, but here we are. It’s only compounding my curiosity about the wound on his chest--I really do wonder if he was attacked and locked away by vampire hunters or hostile human beings or something. I say that only because that line speaks to a lot of isolation, and given how little he seems to care about turning people/subjecting them to his whims it feels odd. Why the isolation or lack of people who care about him? Is it a perceived lack where his actions alienated all the people who wanted to be close to him, or is it a more involuntary lack?

When she says let’s celebrate again next year, he seems a pleasantly shocked by the notion, and remarks “Ah yes, it’s a promise c:”. The preview was also mega horny: “You make me feel so loved, I don’t think I can be gentle with you tonight. If you enjoy it so much, then I won’t stop. I want to see you completely lost for me. I’ll teach your body what it means to be loved by a pureblood.” Aaaaaand pretty sure the CG was alluding to him licking the good stuff from her basement, though not entirely sure given it was only the preview.

The brief POV they give us is also very revealing:

“You always keep your promises, and I think I underestimate all the time how much you saved me. You are good, only you are good in this world.”

“Will we continue to make promises to each other in the future? Well in that case--you will always, always be mine, my vampire.”

Tbh he’s...v sweet? In his own way? Honestly he feels like a crabapple that is just so sick of the world and wants softe wife to take comfort in. While granted that’s not really my thing, I know a fanbase appeal exists for these types--so if that’s your thing, have at it!

So now that we have reached the end of my ridiculously long analysis (when am I ever brief, I’m so sorry. If you made it all the way here you deserve a cookie at the very least, if not the right to chase me with a bat) perhaps it’s more clear why I said discount vampire Sasuke Uchiha? “My clan is gone, every other second I’m going to be in retraumatization insanity, when I’m not I’ll be seeking power/hobbies, planning the demise of people who wanted the best for me, building a team to my advantage and unquestioned control, and eventually settling for a lifelong love who sees the best in me despite my more difficult moments and perceived hollowing loneliness. Not the most ideal comparison, but I will say if Vlad was not already named the historical figure, would have pointed and yelled Uchiha.

That’s all from me folks, hopefully this was a fun way to get introduced to him? And again, hope I didn’t alienate--I fully respect what people do and don’t enjoy o7

#asks #ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp meta #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp leonardo #ikevamp faust #ikevamp charles #ikevamp dazai #i hope this was helpful!#i had too much fun writing it jkahlgkjhgdf i love meta #but thank you for submitting <33333 #oh discount vampire sasuke uchiha we really in it now #rambles #not incorrect quotes

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 years

Text

Pairings: Past Aizawa/Mandalay

Word Count: 1,9218 Words

Summary: The Sports Festival, part 1.

Warnings: Food Mention, Death Mention, Caps, Cursing, Teen Pregnancy, Fighting Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Usernames: Existence Is A Prison Aizawa: feral cat dad, Aoyama: gay salt, Hagakure: ranch flavored jello, Tokoyami: foil-mecha, Shinsou: farmer toshi, Kuroiro: life is a nightmare, Shiozaki: saviour, Tsunotori: schrodinger better run, Honenuki: pure, Monoma: nat20, Yamada: President Megaphone, Bakugou: deku-deck-you

Aizawa, We Agreed No More Cats: Chapter 8

7:00 AM

Existence Is A Prison

gay salt: Tokoyami, I know it's the sports festival and all today, but you didn't need to bring everyone sandos and sports drinks again.

foil-mecha: Thing is, I didn't.

farmer toshi: No, no, because my whole class has sandos and sports drinks on their desks too. And I heard the other Gen Ed classes causing a ruckus over them too. Seems like someone put sando throughout the whole school.

feral cat dad: That would be me. I'm not letting any of you kids go without eating during a major sports event where you'll likely get injured and your bodies need fuel to fight and I won't let you not eat.

feral cat dad: My old Gen Ed teacher, Miss Rin, began this tradition of giving out sandos and water at the gate to students on the day of the Sports Festival. Nezu sanctioned of course, since he refused to allow her to pay for it herself. And now it's carried on through me since she passed on a few years ago.

ranch flavored jello: That's actually really sweet, Dad.

feral cat dad: If you tell anyone it was me who put them out, I'll make you clean the roof level.

ranch flavored jello: We have a roof level?

feral cat dad: You guys didn't know the dorms have roof access?

ranch flavored jello: Well, now we do. Where even are the stairs to it?

feral cat dad: Literally next to my room, I don't know how you haven't found them.

deku deck-you: It's the door next to his room, Toru. Even I found it. You've been here five more days than me.

ranch flavored jello: I THOUGHT THAT WAS A BROOM CLOSET!

feral cat dad: Oh my gods, these kids will be the end of me.

8:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: God help me being alone with this idiot.

feral cat dad: I'm using this chat for extra commentary because there are things I can't say on live national television commentary so they'll all be said here.

feral cat dad: Oh god, Katsuki, no. Don't slander our name.

feral cat dad: Please.

feral cat dad: GOD DAMMIT

feral cat dad: Obstacle Course? Fuck.

feral cat dad: Most proud of my son managing to evade Todoroki's ice despite never dealing with it before.

feral cat dad: Also, Todoroki, who hurt you as a child? That was purposeful so nobody could catch up!

feral cat dad: Get it, Pikachu.

feral cat dad: I'm proud of my gremlin children.

feral cat dad: I'm not paid enough to make commentary on this obstacle.

feral cat dad: Except for my son. I care about my ground-bound son getting across the pit to Tartarus shit.

feral cat dad: Gods, mines. I remember those landmines. I hate those things. They almost made me temporarily blind during my second year Sports Festival.

feral cat dad: What the FUCK Midoriya!?

8:45 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Alright you're probably in the break room for the twenty five minute break by now. Katsuki, what's wrong with your arms? You were holding them.

deku deck-you: Just a lot of work. Overworking. I guess it can't be helped, this is why I have so much wrist support in my hero costume, to help keep my hands from feeling cramped from the explosions.

feral cat dad: Come up to the box, I'll shut old parakeet up if he tries to speak.

deku deck-you: Why?

feral cat dad: I have some ibuprofen, come take two, it should help the pain at least.

deku deck-you: Thank you.

9:00 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Am I allowed to ask why Vlad King is taking care of a small child when he, in fact, doesn't have children?

feral cat dad: Just realized I won't get an answer because you all made it to the next round. I'm so proud but dammit, now I'm curious.

9:20 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: I...What?

feral cad dad; I hate the cavalry battle, that was difficult to keep track of. I don't know how Hizashi does it.

schrodinger better run: Obviously, the answer is very carefully.

feral cat dad: I'm sorry you didn't make it through, Pony. I have candy if you want some.

schrodinger better run: Thank you! I'll stop by and grab it on my way to lunch.

feral cat dad: If you're going to meet back up with your class, text me why there's a child.

schrodinger better run: There's a child?

feral cat dad: smallchildinvladkingsarms.jpg

schrodinger better run: He looks a lot like Tokage.

9:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

ranch flavored jello: Mr. Aizawa, this is Mina, Toru's busy crying so she asked me to ask you. Mineta and Kaminari are telling us 1a girls that you instructed we wear the cheerleader uniforms for the afternoon. What should we tell them?

feral cat dad: Tell them they have three weeks of detention each to look forward to and don't wear those fucking uniforms.

schrodinger better run: Okay, so apparently the kid's here because Tokage brought him in? I still don't have a full explanation, but his name is Mitsu and he's 2 years old.

feral cat dad: Okay. So Tokage brought her little brother or something?

nat20: I'm not so sure about that. He just called her Mama.

feral cat dad: So Tokage has a son?

nat20: It seems like it.

feral cat dad: Oh, Nezu won't be happy about this. He wanted any young parents to report to him after the opening ceremony and alert him if they had any children so they would stay in the dorms.

nat20: To be fair, it would seem Tokage would be the only one out of all the first year classes, so it might have been too much pressure to fit in. Or she may even just has help enough at home that she didn't feel she needed to tell anyone.

feral cat dad: He'll still be mad. Believe me, he'll at least force her to accept a UA fund card so she doesn't need to work to support the baby.

saviour: We got to talking and, apparently, she gives him to a daycare while she's at school and she picks him up when she leaves school.

feral cat dad: Yup, she'll probably be moved on campus if she's not having her family take care of the baby during the day. Nezu's very adamant that his students have help if they're struggling.

10:45 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Alright, so Shinsou against Rikamaru Kana from the Support Course. I don't know if this will be easy for him.

nat20: I am offended Kendo thinks so little of me.

feral cat dad: Why?

nat20: She said I'm perverse! And, when I asked her about it after, she said it's because I wear the girls' uniform sometimes. She thinks I'm some pervert trying to invade the girl's bathroom to creep on them.

nat20: I swear I haven't, Mr. Aizawa, I've never even gone into the girls restrooms, I use the men's or the one in Recovery Girl's office. And I change in the men's locker room. Tetsutetsu will tell you, he's guarded me before when I was uncomfortable changing.

feral cat dad: Don't worry, kid, I believe you. Come up to the box, you need a hug. I'll talk to Kendo if you want.

nat20: Please.

10:50 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Oh my god, he actually did it. I'm so proud, Shinsou.

schrodinger better run: Shinsou fucking yeeted her.

life is a nightmare: Equal opportunity yeeting.

feral cat dad: Next up is Hatsume vs Tokoyami.

nat20: I hope Tokoyami does well next.

11:00 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Tokoyami, I'm proud of you for being a good sport and helping her up after.

foil-mecha: I'm nothing if not a gentleman. Plus, when she fell down, she sprained her ankle. It's the least I can do to help her to Recovery Girl.

farmer toshi: I'm betting a grocery shop tonight that Ashido's going to win against Midoriya next.

feral cat dad: Be careful kid, you might eat those words.

11:10 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Fine, I guess I'm getting dinner. And I'm also very happy Toru won against Iida.

feral cat dad: That's if you don't get injured. Remember, there's now two people you know against you.

ranch flavored jello: I still can't believe I won against Iida, honestly.

feral cat dad: Well, Shiozaki is against Shizuka Inei next. A Gen Ed Course student.

nat20: Do you know him, Hitoshi?

farmer toshi: Kind of hard to miss someone when they're that fucking loud all the time.

foil-mecha: Is that son of a bitch harassing Ibara?

nat20: I have lost faith in humanity. How dare a peasant's filthy hands touch our Ibara.

farmer toshi: Yeah, I'd defend my classmate in it being an accident if I didn't know that Shizuka is a blatant misogynists.

feral cat dad: I'll fight him. Disgusting little trash.

life is a nightmare: And HE gets to advance while our Ibara loses? Unacceptable.

feral cat dad: The Min*ta of class 1c.

11:25 AM

Existence Is A Prison

nat20: Thank goodness Kiyomi's advancing. I do feel bad she'll be fighting a misogynist though.

pure: I felt kind of bad about it, I didn't really want to fight our Akari!

nat20: I'm sure Akari understands and also didn't want to fight you either, but you two can't just refuse to fight because you're friends or you'd both be either disqualified or forced to fight by now.

gay salt: No ill will is held on my end, Kiyomi! I think our fight was rather fun!

pure: Okay, as long as you promise you're not mad.

gay salt: I'm not, I'm proud of you, mon amor.

nat20: Any bets on Kaminari here?

farmer toshi: I'll bet on Pikachu winning.

schrodinger better run: I'll bet a grocery trip that Fujioka wins.

life is a nightmare: That would be the furthest a Business Course student would have gotten in the Sports Festival.

schrodinger better run: I'll still bet on him.

feral cat dad: Well, you were wrong, Pony.

schrodinger better run: All as well. I didn't expect Fujioka to have an equip quirk, to be fair.

feral cat dad: Next is Tokage vs Fukumura from General Studies.

saviour: Let's go Tokage!

11:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: Is Tokage okay? I heard she passed out.

feral cat dad: She's overworked and malnourished from what Recovery Girl will tell me when I ask and Nezu is speaking with Tokage and asking her what got her to this.

feral cat dad: I

feral cat dad: I don't think I'm at liberty to discuss her tragic backstory with you guys, sadly. But she'll tell you when she moves into the dorms tonight.

11:35 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Todoroki, aka Mr. Overboard. Poor Sero.

farmer toshi: Oh god, I might need to fight Mr. Daddy Issues.

farmer toshi: Gods help me.

foil-mecha: To be fair, he'd have to get through three brackets to get to you and he'd be fighting you in the three-way fight.

ranch flavored jello: He'd have to get past Katsuki too.

deku deck-you: He won't.

feral cat dad: Alright then, Mr. Overconfident.

Taglist: @everythingisstardust

#mha #bnha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #aoyama yuuga #fumikage tokoyami #shinsou hitoshi #aizawa shouta #hagakure tooru #katsuki bakugou #pony tsunotori #monoma neito #ibara shiozaki #kuroiro shihai #juzo honenuki #snoweywrites #aizawa we agreed no more cats au

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poetic-emptiness-fanfic · 4 years

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Hande Kuura: Anastasia AU

Thanks to @nvvermore, I’ve hopped on AU bandwagon. I realised that Anastasia film and musical both have excellent character dynamics in order to create this AU for my characters. I grew up watching the animation from 1997, and have been a geek of the last Romanovs stuff since I was a child. Because of these facts, I’m going to combine the film, the musical and some real life stuff left out from the adaptations to my alternative universe.

I’m probably going to write even fics about this AU in the future, but for now, I introduce the characters and their roles in it.

Warning: spoilers for Anastasia 1997 film and Anastasia musical - and well, the real events, but I wouldn’t call them spoilers.

Thank you, @juliandev0rak & @leechobsessed for positive feedback when I told about my idea!

Hande Kuura as Anya/Anastasia

crown princess Hande of Thesa (a country I’ve created around Karnassos, which is the capital of it)

in the AU her surname is Gul, after her father

though Anastasia was youngest of her sisters, I wanted to keep Hande’s age and the age difference between her and Salma the same, so she’s still the oldest child

vivacious, curious, proud, stubborn and kind

normally the crown of Thesa is inherited by the oldest son of the shah, but since Sardar and Helena don’t have any sons, Hande becomes the crown princess and heir-apparent of Thesa

in this AU Hande doesn’t have her magical abilities

like Anastasia in the musical and in real life, Hande is 17 years old, when her family is murdered - survives the shooting, but loses her memory because of it

gets the name Hanieh at the hospital she wakes up in

has a necklace with a pendant with a carving: “Together in Vesuvia” - it opens the music box

Hande is 27 years old when most of the story takes place

Julian Devorak as Dimitri

a young con-man, a former medical apprentice

in this AU Julian is only 4 years older than Hande, which makes him 31-year-old during the story (in my canon he’s 9 older than Hande)

orphaned, used to be an urchin, until his sister took him in

during his teens he was an apprentice of Nazali Satrinava, the personal physician of the royal family

only saw some glimpses of Hande during his time at the palace - dealt more with Salma since Nazali mostly treated her and sometimes even took their apprentice with them

after Sardar II abdicated, Nazali recommended Julian to leave and never tell about his work at the palace - Nazali stays with the royal family

saves his sister from execution, and they become con-men in order to make a living

Portia Devorak as Vlad Popov

due to technical and moral reasons, I’ve made Portia Julian’s big sister in this AU

she’s 12 years older than Hande, so she’s 39 years old in the story

orphaned, but as a child was separated from her brother and she got adopted by a noble, so she was introduced to the court

later managed to find Julian, got him out of the streets and offered him education and arranged a medical apprenticeship for him

as a young adult and before the revolution, she had an affair with countess Nadia Satrinava, a married woman

manages to avoid execution thanks to her brother

Lucio/Montag Morgasson as Gleb Vaganov

originally Montag Morgasson, changed his name to Lucio after the revolution

I also made him a little younger than he is in my canon: he’s 8 years older than Hande, which makes him 35-year-old during the story

in this AU part of the Scourgelands belongs to Thesa

from the family of soldiers: his father Lutz was a member of royal army and his son followed in his footsteps

later, he was promoted to be one of the body guards of the princesses

his father was a part of conspiracy against princess Afsoun (Rasputin of the story), got executed, which filled Lucio with bitterness

ends up betraying the royal family, joins the revolution

in contrast to the musical, Lucio is part of the execution group himself

becomes general after revolutionists gain control of Thesa

Nadia Satrinava as Countess Lily Malevsky-Malevitch

countess Nadia Satrinava, lady-in-waiting of empress Helena

was married to count Satrinava, a Prakran diplomat

befriends dowager prince Armas during his stay in Karnassos

when the second revolution (irl “October revolution”) starts, she manages to escape from Thesa to Vesuvia - Armas takes her under his wing and hires her

later finds out her husband is dead

during her time as a lady-in-waiting, had an affair with Portia Devorak

like in my canon, she is 41 years old when the story takes place

Armas Vuorimaa as Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna

dowager prince Armas of Fintrike (a country I’ve created around Hjalle, which is the capital of it)

Mielikki Kuura was queen Mielikki I of Fintrike, died like in my canon

royal family of Kuura governs the country - an ancestor of Mielikki, part of the Forestian minority, was chosen by election, but they changed the system. so the title was given to their issue after their death

after Mielikki’s death Armas becomes a regent, until their oldest child, Paavo, becomes of age

in Fintrike the crown is inherited by the eldest child regardless of their gender

after Paavo becomes the king, Armas first stays in Hjalle as his son’s adviser - after the birth of his first grandchild (Hande), Armas moves to Karnassos

has a house in Vesuvia, moves to there permanently when Hande is 8 years old, gifts her the music box - their lullaby is sung in Hongas, so the language is one of the key elements in this AU

Afsoun Gul as Grigori Rasputin

princess Afsoun of Thesa, adviser of Sardar II

first child and daughter of shah Kourosh V and empress Aytan (in Thesa the crown is inherited by the eldest son)

strong-willed, refuses to marry anyone, and searches for magicians in order to practice her own abilities

has huge influence on her brother, who trusts her about almost everything

has her magical powers, and is called “the witch” by her enemies

uses her magic to treat Salma during her numerous illnesses and ailments

unlike Rasputin, Afsoun isn’t womanizer (she’s still aroace in this AU)

though, she is rumored to have an affair with her brother’s wife

is assassinated at the age of 49 by some members of the court, including Lucio’s father Lutz - this happens a few months before the first revolution (irl “February revolution”)

Sardar Gul as Tsar Nicholas II

shah Sardar II of Thesa

second child and first son of shah Kourosh V and empress Aytan

becomes the shah at the age of 26

falls in love with Fintrikean princess Helena - at first his parents oppose the marriage (they didn’t like Fintrikeans), but after Sardar’s father’s health declines, he allows his only son to propose

though, unlike Alexander III, Kourosh gets to see his first grandchild before his death

Sardar is a loving husband and father, but mediocre, indecisive and conservative as a ruler (like Nicholas II)

is executed alongside of his family at the age of 43

Helena Kuura as Empress Alexandra Feodorovna

empress Helena of Thesa

second child and first daughter of queen Mielikki I and prince consort Armas of Fintrike

falls in love with the heir-apparent of Thesa, prince Sardar

like empress Alexandra, Helena is shy and reserved which is seen as arrogance by common people of Thesa

is fascinated by magic, relies much on Afsoun’s abilities when it comes to Salma’s ailments

has great influence on her husband, especially when it comes to the officials of the court and government, also manages to carry through the exceptional law which makes Hande the crown princess of Thesa

is executed alongside of her family at the age of 42

Salma Kuura as Anastasia’s siblings

princess Salma of Thesa

I decided I won’t create other siblings for Hande, so Salma is still the only one

she doesn’t have tsesarevich Alexei’s hemophilia, but is otherwise sickly

very close to Hande, also friends with Asra

becomes acquainted to Julian when he’s apprenticing with Nazali, sometimes tells Hande about “a nice boy” who kept her company when she was sick

is executed alongside of her family at the age of 15

Asra Alnazar as “himself”

there wasn’t a suitable role for him in the film or in the musical, so I created my own, is still a year younger than Hande, like in my canon

a childhood friend and later a companion of crown princess Hande

his parents were part of service staff (Aisha was nanny and tutor, and Salim tutor of the princesses)

Aisha and Salim are part of the few staff members of the palace who voluntarily stay with the royal family during their imprisonment, and Asra being a teenager comes with them

Asra loses his parents, because they are executed with the royal family

is ordered to help the soldiers to get rid of the bodies, and notices that Hande is actually alive

hides her and brings her to a hospital

is the one who tells the hospital staff that Hande’s name is Hanieh

in order to protect Hande and himself, leaves and tries to rebuild his life on his own

Muriel as “himself”

there wasn’t a suitable role for him in the film or in the musical, so I created my own, like in my canon, is 5 years older than Hande

orphan and former urchin, has supported himself as a street fighter (among everything else)

meets Hanieh after she arrives to Karnassos with amnesia

the duo becomes friends, and they help to support each other

Muriel arranges work for Hanieh, also teaches her to fight

is supportive of Hanieh’s dreams to travel to Vesuvia one day

doesn’t trust Julian, but hears that he can arrange a visa for Hanieh, so he tips Hanieh on the opportunity

Muriel doesn’t know Hanieh is actually a princess

If you’re not familiar with my other characters, here are some links to help to understand this AU:

Hande’s family tree

introduction to Hande’s immediate family

introduction to Hande’s paternal family

introduction to Hande’s maternal family

#The Arcana #fan apprentice #Hande the Apprentice #Asra Alnazar #Julian Devorak #Portia Devorak #Lucio #Montag Morgasson #Muriel #Nadia Satrinava #headcanons #Anastasia au #my writing #my work

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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 4 years

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Psycho Analysis: Vlad Masters/Vlad Plasmius

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

Danny Phantom is the one truly great thing Butch Hartman can still slap his name on. A fantastic show, it evokes the fun of oldschool comics while still keeping that Hartman charm. But as a superhero show, it’s only as good as its villains, and thankfully it has one of the most impressive rogues galleries this side of the PPG. But every great rogues gallery needs a great archenemy, and of course Danny Phantom is able to provide that.

Vlad Masters, AKA Vlad Plasmius, is one of the coolest antagonists in a series chock full of cool antagonists. He has the style, he has the flair, he’s a politician, he has the hots for Danny’s mom and is a Green Bay Packers fan! What a fiend! Vlad is a great foil for Danny in a lot of ways due to being essentially a more experienced version of Danny himself due to having years of practice with his powers, which allows the show to showcase Danny’s growth as a hero as the threat of Vlad diminishes with time going on.

Shame about all those dropped plotlines, though.

Motivation/Goals: As established in his very first appearance, Vlad is a man who, despite his immense wealth, desires things he can’t possibly have. Humorously, one of these things is the Green Day Packers, but less humorously one of those things is Danny as a protege or even as a son. He frequently tries to get Danny to join him or to find some way to weasel his way into Danny’s life in ways that bring us into his third and most definitive motivation.

You see, Vlad “loves” Maddie Fenton. This is in quotations because the show makes it abundantly clear he loves the idea of having her more than anything else and that his attraction is entirely surface-level bitterness at Jack having something he doesn’t. So Vlad is a man who goes out of his way to try and woo a woman who has a rather clear lack of interest in him due to being married, yet still he continues to pursue her romantically despite the sheer impossibility. There’s a word for men like Vlad… you know what it is… Vlad Master is a

This alone truly solidifies him as one of the most evil men in fiction, and he honestly might be the biggest simp of all. Move over, Mordecai! The simp king is here to claim his crown! And if you doubt that Vlad is less of a simp than Mordecai… he’s a middle aged man who has been lusting after the same girl since college and has amassed a massive fortune and gained tons of power (through illegitimate means, according to the creators) solely so he can try and cuck his former best friend. Mordecai temporarily killing Rigby over a girl doesn’t even come close to the levels of simping on display. He literally named his cat after Maddie! Vlad is next level.

Performance: Martin Mull portrays Vlad and gives him the perfect classy yet slimy voice, but can you expect much less from the man deemed worthy to take up the mantle of Colonel Mustard in Clue? For the most part, Vlad remains a very effective villain who raises the stakes when he appears, and a lot of his intimidation factor comes from how well Mull is able to sell Vlad even when he’s doing really dumb stuff or is the butt of jokes. He definitely helps cement Vlad as the Norman Osborn of the 2000s.

Final Fate: After all of his scheming, all of his tricks, his becoming mayor of Amity Park, his hounding of Danny, Vlad ultimately decides to reveal his full hand when a deadly meteor is about to strike the Earth and wipe out all life. He ropes Jack into helping him, and of course Jack is crushed to learn the man he considered his best friend has not only hated him for years, but has constantly been trying to steal his wife and family from him. So when Vlad fails to stop the meteor and realizes there is no way he can return to Earth and face the people there now, he turns to Jack and pathetically asks if Jack would help a friend. And of course Jack says he would help a friend… but Vlad? No.

And so he abandons Vlad in the lonely vacuum of space, where he is doomed to wander as a pariah. The exchange between Jack and Vlad here is one of the sole bright spots in the otherwise depressingly awful series finale, “Phantom Planet,” so hell yeah am I gonna go into tons of detail about it. It’s probably one of Jack’s finest moments, as he finally stands up to the Simp King who has been stalking his family for years now.

Also Vlad gets crushed by a meteor at the very end of the episode.

Best Episodes: I think with Vlad it really depends on what you’re looking for. His introductory episode, “Bitter Reunions,” is a wonderful first impression that really set the tone for him for at least the first two seasons. “Masters of All Time” shows an alternate, powerless Vlad who still manages to be every bit as horrible as the main Vlad. And “The Ultimate Enemy” showcases him at his most sympathetic, with his brief appearance being a fantastic addition to an already stellar special.

Best Quote: Vlad drops this line in “Reign Storm,” and while nothing ever came from that particular plotline, this line has always stuck with me: “What? That I used two fourteen year old pawns to turn a knight and topple a king? It's chess, Daniel. Of course you don't understand. But then, you never really did.”

Final Thoughts & Score: Vlad is certainly a cool villain and a great foe, but unfortunately the show drops the ball with him a bit, though I think at least some of that is intentional. In the early seasons, he is much more dangerous and competent, having had decades to master his powers while Danny is still relatively new. But as time goes on, and Danny becomes more and more powerful and more accustomed to his abilities, Vlad’s threat level diminishes significantly, and while he is certainly no slouch, he loses a lot of his luster and his schemes become more petty and pathetic.

I think a lot of this can be attributed to his arrogance and pride, as well as his selfish desires. Vlad’s motivation is constantly to have things he simply cannot have and childishly act out of spite when he can’t get what he wants. More than anything he wants Danny as his son and Maddie as his wife, but it’s pretty apparent he doesn’t care about Maddie beyond the surface level and even with Danny it seems he more wants to spite Jack due to perceived slights than anything. He’s just a bitter, miserable, lonely man who is incapable of self-reflection; in fact, the only timeline in which Vlad realizes the error of his ways is one in which Danny’s whole family and Danny himself die, with his own powers being stripped away from him. His own ego and pride hinder any growth, and in the end it is ultimately what does him in, since he is left abandoned alone in space by the man he repeatedly tried to stab in the back, unable to return home to Earth because he foolishly revealed his powers, thinking he had everything under control.

While I do think his threat level diminishes a bit and the show doesn’t handle him quite as well as they could, I do think he’s a very effective thematic villain and an excellent archenemy to Danny. I do wish they had utilized some dropped plotlines such as whatever he was going to do with Fright Knight and of course the stuff with Dani, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t hold him back from a perfect score, but I’d still say Vlad deserves a 9/10. A lot of it is because of his cool design and voice acting, and a lot of it is because he’s honestly a pretty savage deconstruction of the type of shallow, obsessive character type he embodies…

...but let’s be honest, he scores this high because he is the ultimate simp in all of fiction. Truly there is nothing more evil than that.

#Psycho Analysis #Vlad Masters #Vlad Plasmius #Danny Phantom #Martin Mull

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angelaiswriting · 4 years

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The Assistant (14 of ?) | Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader

[original picture found on: pinterest]

✏️ Pairings:

(almost official) Vladimir Ranskahov x fem!reader

Anatoly Ranskahov x OC (Paulina)

✏️ Requested by @kellydixon01 : Y/N–hacker, big mouth, even bigger attitude–is the new addition to Fisk’s team. Sent to help the Ranskahovs, she immediately gets on Vladimir’s nerves. But as time passes, they start to take a liking to each other, even if none of them is willing to admit their feelings. Yet.

✏️ Previously on The Assistant (aka I’m shit at updating): Y/N returns home after having spent some painful days in Wesley’s hands and finds Vladimir waiting for her. He unexpectedly takes care of her, gives her a safe place to stay (’just so that he can keep an eye on her’), and as a consequence, they find themselves slowly growing fonder of and closer to each other.

✏️ A/N: sorry it took me one year to update :) many thanks to Alice for the great ideas that helped inspire me again! 💛 more weird things are coming, I don’t even know what this story is aymore lmao we going from serious to crack in the matter of one chapter my homies

✏️ Warnings: nothing, just some stubbornness on Vlad’s part, mentions of terrible singing, fluff with hand holding !!! and a surreal situation with an old friend.

✏️ Word-count: 4,577

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: ULYANA

Days turned into weeks much quicker than he would have ever thought but the truth was, Vladimir enjoyed Y/N’s presence in his apartment. He had even caught himself calling it ‘home’ once or twice – never out loud, of course, always in his mind, but it was in there that it bore more meaning.

She had unofficially moved in with him – just so that I can keep an eye on her, he had told his brother, but both Vlad and Toly knew that the former would never manage to close his eyes long enough to have a good night’s sleep if he had to add her to his list of worries and responsibilities. She had moved in with him and suddenly the walls of his apartment had stopped closing in on him, and the shadows had turned a tad bit lighter, his demons a bit paler.

He had only ever lived with his brother – even before America, when their life had still been in Moscow and he had a girlfriend to call the love of his life. It had been him and Toly; it had always been the two of them ever since their mother had died and they had been left alone in this world. So now he wasn’t used to it – wasn’t used to sharing living spaces and taking turns for his morning shower; wasn’t used to helping someone prepare breakfast in the silence of the kitchen, and he was still learning how to use Netflix. But it had taken him less than he thought it would take, to get used to someone else’s rhythms.

It will only be for few weeks, he had told her at the beginning, on that Monday morning of almost two months ago. After that, he’d send her away to his enemy-friend in Russia, where she’d hopefully be safe, but Vladimir had yet to take that step forward. He hadn’t picked up the phone, nor had he sent an email to one of the men he still had back home to see if Sokolovsky still had an eye on the former kings of the Capital. He simply hadn’t reached out and the plan he should have given shape to still remained confused and untouched, its silhouette still vague in his mind.

The reason behind that was probably the fact that living with her felt easy. Easy and comfortable, almost homely in a way, and he found himself allowing her that very benefit of the doubt he had never truly graced her with before she had gone missing for three days straight.

He never told her these things, of course. He kept them locked inside his mind and his heart, and part of him foolishly hoped that she would pick up on them on her own. That she would look at him one morning, looked right into his eyes, and see something that would light up a lightbulb inside her head. Almost like a cartoonish a-ha! moment, that’s what he hoped for, and he was ashamed of it every single time his thoughts stopped on that. That would be the easier way, and he wouldn’t have to open up to let her in, for she would see and crawl her way to the center of his soul without him being able to stop her.

But then they had started going back to work, back to the garage, and he had found himself opening up a lot more easily than anticipated. There was no more screaming nor fighting coming from his office, and he had even given her permission to use his desk when he wasn’t there.

Little by little, he had let that whatever-this-is feeling he harbored for her consume the weld joints of his armor. A joke thrown his way just before she left with Petya to go to lunch; a cheesy punchline chuckled in the silence of his office when he least expected for her to open her mouth; and then all those Friday nights out at some bar that had somehow become a tradition.

“This job is starting to get boring.”

She dropped down into the chair in front of his desk, laptop abandoned on the new leather couch he had bought a few days after she had shown up again – it was time I threw old one away, that had been his excuse, but deep down he knew he had done all that for her. He had even gone that one step forward and bought her a nice coffee table – and then one of those fancy trays with legs he still didn’t know the name of, just so that she could keep her laptop in her lap without actually burning her thighs. A new desk would have probably been the best solution, but in his mind that meant admitting to everyone that he was doing something for someone else, someone that wasn’t family nor business, and… Well, he just wasn’t ready. What he really wasn’t ready for, though, was for her to understand. And that truly went against all the silly hopes he had, but he was scared, and while Tanya wasn’t on his mind that often anymore, he didn’t want to fuck up –or to get fucked up by yet another person.

“What do you want me to do?” His groan was just a bluff, a way to pretend like he was still the same Vladimir that had welcomed her – if so one could say – on her very first day at the garage. “Give you time off?”

She picked up a pen from his pencil holder and twisted it between her fingers. “I don’t like doing taxes, that’s not part of my job.”

He chuckled for a moment before he covered it with a cough. “Aslan is helping Sergei prepare for the trip, and others barely know any math.”

When all his words were met with was a huff, he dared a quick peek above the frame of his laptop and found her already staring at him. She had taken her glasses off, but still had the indentations of the bridge on the sides of her nose.

“It’s almost time to go clock out,” she pointed out, tapping the pencil on the top of his computer. “Everyone’s already gone home… You’re the boss, we could be leaving whenever you want.”

His right eyebrow rose in an amused expression, and he had to swallow down that chuckle that was threatening to come up again. What was it about her that had this effect on him? And why was he only now embracing it? Inside, he was burning with the desire to cave in and let her win, go home – home – and watch TV, maybe order pizza or Chinese. But a new meeting with Fisk’s man was coming up and soon both Aslan and Sergei would leave for a business trip to Florida, and he was behind on his schedule.

“I can’t.” He offered her a weak shoulder shrug before hinting at the couch with his chin. “But you can call it a day if you want. I have to-”

But she pushed the lid of his laptop down until it closed. “You have to do nothing. I saw what you’re doing and what you have already done. You’re good, Vlad, you can finish early today. When was the last time you took it easy?”

They stared at each other, and he truly did his best to not look away. The truth was, he didn’t know when that was. Sure, he had taken some time off when she had come back beaten and battered, and when she had moved in with him, on the other side of the corridor from her own apartment, and he had stayed home with her. But he had still been busy – busy with her and with his anger, and then the drinking and the kissing… It hadn’t been pure rest; he wasn’t even sure he knew what that was.

“We can’t afford mistakes if we want to fool weasel,” he frowned, a hand moving over his computer to open it again, but hers was still pressing it down.

She chuckled – both at his choice of that word and at the despise in his voice. “One day off won’t kill you, come on.”

He never pushed her as much as he had used to before the accident, but she still looked drained that day, even despite that playful façade she had put up. So, he ended up caving in. It was weird, to feel allowed to do something, take it easy – and for himself, not someone else. He didn’t need anybody’s permission to do anything – or to not do something – but it was almost as though part of the weight he carried on his shoulders had been lifted off of him.

“It’s Friday anyway,” she reminded him as she put her things in his car, a few minutes later, and he found himself grinning behind her, safe in the knowledge that she couldn’t see him.

Friday meant booze and bars, and it was thanks to them that he had gotten to know her better and she… well, he did try opening up a bit more, and alcohol surely helped. But it was one thing to spend all week thinking about spending time with her, doing something normal, civilized people did, and it was another to realize that she was looking forward to those nights probably just as much as he.

“Maybe we could reach the others,” he proposed in the spur of the moment, before he had the time to truly think his proposal over, his brother’s invitation still fresh in his mind. “Just for this once,” he quickly added, but she was already turning toward him with a bright smile on her face.

Vladimir had vague memories about the night before. Sergei and the guys had gotten him absolutely hammered, but he was fairly sure he remembered Piotr howling something vaguely similar to We didn’t think you two lovebirds would make it when he and Y/N had shown up at Anatoly’s place. The only thing he was sure of, when he woke up above his blankets and still dressed in his now-crumpled suit, was that there was no way in both heaven and hell that he had driven himself and his girl back home.

“Are you still alive?” came a drowsy voice from the corridor.

When he twisted his head to the side, she was standing there, just like that night of many weeks ago, leaning against the frame of the door. She had just gotten out of the shower, he noticed when he managed to take in her wet hair still dripping droplets of water onto her shirt.

He heaved a sigh, a noisy one, straight out of his nose, but he couldn’t bring himself to open his mouth and give her an actual answer. Too laced with sleep and grogginess, he just laid there, and somehow, whatever that entailed, in his mind he felt like a fish.

“I’ll take that groan as a yes. Coffee will be ready in a few if this headache doesn’t take me out before I reach the kitchen and the pills.”

It was ten minutes later, when he was finishing getting dressed, that his brother knocked on his bedroom door and almost scared the crap out of him. For the first time in forever, his heart jumped up in his throat and as he whipped around, he almost tripped in his own feet.

“What the fuck, Tolik?” he groaned, Russian scorching and angry in his mouth as he tied the drawstrings of his sweatpants.

Good morning to you as well was the answer he got as he stared as his brother walked forward and sat on his bed. “The living room is messy,” Anatoly pointed out matter-of-factly as he looked around in the room and put the keys to his brother’s apartment back into the pocket of his jacket. “I didn’t even know you had books somewhere.”

Vlad’s brows furrowed. “Did you come to criticize my apartment?”

The other shrugged. “So, did you tell her?” he grinned – a big ass grin that went from ear to ear and that threw uneasiness on Vladimir like a bucket of cold water on the head. “Y/N,” he added when his brother grimaced in annoyance and confusion.

“Tell her what?” He feigned ignorance, and not because he was trying to play coy, but more because he wanted to avoid talking about feelings with his brother. It didn’t matter that he found himself calling him in the dead of night, with a closed-up throat and confusion thrashing his mind as he tried to figure out what, exactly, was making him feel the way he felt.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Vova. Even the guys are starting to notice.”

So maybe his memory of Piotr yelling lovebirds in his brother’s living room wasn’t a faulty memory. The possibility that that had actually happened stopped his mind from working for a moment. “Notice what?”

Really? was saying the look on Anatoly’s face. He stared at him, chuckled to himself, and then he stood up to close the distance between them. With his brother’s hands cupping his face, he felt like a child again. “You took two weeks off of work, that never happened, not even back in Moscow. And they all know you spent them in here with her. Then,” he went on, hands now leaving his face, “you made her workstation a bit more comfortable: new couch, new coffee table, even a new tray table for her laptop. That’s all new, and I have to agree with them in saying so.”

“You didn’t tell them…”

“About you calling me after midnight, trying not to cry because you had been kissing her and you were scared because you enjoyed it?” Anatoly scoffed, and then he scoffed once more at Vladimir’s annoyed expression. “Why would I? I’m your brother, and you’re your own person. You’re old enough to take care of yourself.”

A faint okay was Vladimir’s answer, heart beating wildly inside his chest. His gaze wandered back to the hallway, hoping and praying that she wasn’t there, whether it was accidentally or not.

“You dueted Can’t Help Falling In Love yesterday.”

His head turned back to Toly so fast that he got whiplash and for a moment, a brief second, he risked losing his balance. “What?”

“It was terrible, Paulina was still laughing when I left this morning. Drunk karaoke is not for you – for neither of you. And if you didn’t end up going at it on my living room floor, someone up there truly is looking down on us,” he chuckled. “Everybody was probably too drunk to remember about that this morning, so don’t worry. What you should worry about, though, is telling her.”

It wasn’t like his brother was wrong and he was right when it came to swallowing down anything that got thrown his way – both the blessings and the curses. It was more of a matter of pride, it didn’t matter that he did call Anatoly in almost-tears more than once when he should have been fast asleep. It was also his business, and it wasn’t like it interfered with his job: he still slaved off, he still put his ass on that chair and did what he had to do. The only thing he hadn’t done was pick up the phone and call Sokolovsky, but that was because he didn’t really need him, because he was more than capable of taking care of her, of keeping her safe.

Most of the time, that was.

“Did you come to talk about my feelings?” He wasn’t on the verge of losing his cool, but he did want his brother and his accusations out of his bedroom.

“No,” was the reply. “Your feelings are your own, but it sure does hurt me to see my brother choosing pain over happiness over and over again.”

“I am happy.”

“Yes, for now. But then what? When pretending like you don’t feel anything won’t be enough anymore, what then? You’ll close up again, kick her out?” One of Anatoly’s hands covered his cheek and again, it was like being back home, and it was his mother’s hand the one on his face, warm and homely and safe, distracting his thoughts from whatever his father had been throwing at them that day. “I love you, brother. I always will, even if we have our own lives outside of the garage. And the last thing I want,” he sighed, “is going back to my woman and have her rant about the both of you being too stupid and blind to hold each other’s hand in public.”

Vlad frowned, his head tilting back a bit as he stared at his brother in disbelief.

“I’m kidding. But I do love you and I do want you happy. I don’t know what goes on in that thick skull of yours anymore, but I know what you’re doing to yourself. She won’t eat you alive, she won’t laugh in your face. If anything, after the terrible singing you both did last night, I think she might cry happy tears.”

He removed his brother’s hand from his face and took a step back. “I’ll ask again: Did you come to talk about my feelings for Y/N?”

Instead of saying So you do have feelings for her – because that was what he could read on his face – Tolik sighed in surrender before lifting his gaze to the ceiling for a moment. “No,” he eventually groaned. “Ulyana called. The sink in her bathroom keeps on leaking and she needs help.”

“So? Do you need my permission to go?”

“Fuck off, mudak.” He read disbelief in his brother’s eyes – disbelief more than annoyance at his petty ass. “She hasn’t seen you in months, she’s worried. After all she did for us, you up and leave? She asked explicitly for you, Vova. Just go, fix what needs to be fixed and spend some time with her – she hasn’t gone to bingo afternoons in forever.”

Ulyana had been like a mother and a grandmother all in one, back when he and Anatoly had first arrived in New York with barely anything in their suitcases. They had left everything behind, but had found a friend and ally in her. She had helped them – probably more than she should have – and they had reached their current position also thanks to the goodness of her heart. Ulyana’s tiny apartment felt and smelled like home, like a Russia they’ll probably never live again. Like home and hopes and all kinds of promises, shining under the sun.

It did make him feel bad, facing the accusations of abandoning Lina to her fate just because he had relapsed into something he didn’t want to give a name to. It was like a stab wound to the heart, and his heart didn’t ache just for anybody. She had become more of his responsibility when Tolya and Paulina had gotten together and he had been happy, for a while. But then his demons had got strong again, drawn the curtains of his mind, and even Ulyana’s place had turned dark and cold, and he had felt like there was no more space for him there.

“I’m serious, Vlad: you have to go. Take Y/N with you if you have to, but if I get a call from her, saying that you didn’t show up…”

He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, and those three seconds felt longer than three hours as he stood there, under his brother’s accusatory gaze. “Fine, yes, I’ll go.”

The drive to Ulyana’s housing block was long and silent, stretched out even more by the crazy Saturday afternoon traffic. Y/N had yet to ask her usual bunch of questions about what they were going to do and where, exactly, they were going to do it. It was a blessing because he was sure that Ulya was his best-kept secret – after what she had done for him and his brother, without ever expecting anything in return, keeping her out of any kind of trouble was the least he could do.

But he hadn’t visited her in forever, so, whether his actions had managed to get the FBI to knock on her door or not, she was still going to be pissed. In her own way, that is – without violence nor harsh words, and that was truly something he had never been used to.

When they eventually arrived at their destination and he stopped the car in Ulyana’s unused parking lot, for her husband had died twenty years or so ago, he turned in his seat to look at Y/N, suddenly nervous about what he was about to do. It felt almost like a leap of faith, opening up about such a secret to someone like her. That was where that stupid ‘benefit of the doubt’ kicked in, even though, deep down, he had already started to trust her long before that day.

“What’s up?” she asked as she unlocked her seat belt and looked out of the windshield to try and understand why he was still in the car.

He couldn’t read her expression with those shades she was wearing, her sight still sore and sensitive, for her headache was still there, even if a lot lighter compared to what had almost cracked her head open just that morning. It was probably for the best, that he couldn’t look at her in the eye; it was like he wasn’t facing her at all, and it gave him the illusion that he wasn’t exactly spilling some beans, somehow.

“We’re going to meet someone,” he started, hands still gripping the steering wheel. “She is… my friend. I’m sure you know nothing about her.”

Y/N lifted her sunglasses up, looked at him through squinted eyes, before turning towards him with her whole body on the seat. “I know nothing about… who?”

“You will see,” he replied after a moment of indecision, torn as he was between telling her now or introducing her to the old woman when she would welcome them into her home. “It has to remain this way, though. A secret. It won’t end up in one of your files,” he added, hinting back at the files she had put together about him and his brother and Tatyana and everyone back at the garage, and had then shown him a few weeks back.

“Do you want me to pinky promise that?” she chuckled, but he knew that she was serious, only trying to downplay and lighten the atmosphere in the car to put him at ease.

He scoffed at that and simply opened his car door. “Let’s go.”

Inside, the building was a bit more run-down than he remembered it to be from the last time he stepped foot in it. The ceiling lamp in the entrance, a closed space with only the glass door as a source of light, wasn’t working when they walked in, and the staircase had a gloomy look to it when they walked up the steps.

Behind him, he could feel Y/N’s gaze drilling holes in the back of his head, but there was nothing he could do. There was also no need to do anything right now, when she’d see who this whole thing was about in a matter of minutes and judge the whole situation by herself.

“Ulyana Filimonova,” she read the oval plaque right above the peephole when he rang the bell. “Who’s this? I didn’t know you-”

But the door opened and an old lady, shorter than her by a whole head, stared Vladimir down to the ground with an accusatory gaze and a wooden spoon in her hand that, judging by the look in her eyes, she wasn’t scared to use as a weapon.

“Vladimir Borisovich! Where have you been?” Her voice was high and indignant as she spat angry English like it were bullets. But then her gaze landed on Y/N, standing half-shocked, half-amused on Vladimir’s left, and she stared at her with parted lips for a moment before she grinned, the look in her eyes melting away and fading into unexpected happiness. “Ah, finally a girlfriend!” she exclaimed, making Vladimir choke on his spit. “I was getting worried, my boy! But that’s good. I always said you need a softer touch in your life, da?”

Sputtering, Vladimir was about to protest when ‘the girlfriend’ tugged harshly on his hand and gave him a look.

“It’s so nice to meet you, Miss!” she smiled, stretching her hand out to introduce herself.

Ulyana was still talking when she moved to the side to let them in – first Vlad and then Y/N, whose arm she took in hers right after closing the door. “No ‘Miss’ around here,” she joked. “I’ve been happily married for almost forty years and even though my Shura is long gone, I still carry rings around my neck,” and she pulled out the chain from underneath her flowery blouse. “But please, get comfortable, I’ll go put on some tea!” she smiled, accompanying them into a tiny but tidy living room and showing them the two-seat couch. “Vlad never brought anyone home, it’s nice to be finally meeting his love!” And with those words, she left in a hurry.

“Who the hell is this woman?” Y/N whispered when she turned to look at Vladimir, sitting as stiff as a pole next to her. “This is the most surreal situation I’ve ever lived so far.”

“She…” He cleared his throat, still confused as to why Lina thought Y/N was his girlfriend of sorts. Maybe girl friend, with that tiny space in its middle, could be considered correct, but there was definitely no relationship between them – not yet, at least. “She helped me and Toly when we arrived. We used to live two doors down the corridor. She taught us better English.”

She nodded. “I’m surprised you managed to keep her off the records. I’m surely not the best at my job, but I consider myself good enough, and I never got a whiff of her.” She paused for a moment and Vladimir did his best not to look at her, but only spied her expressions from the corner of his eye. “Why does she think I’m your girlfriend?” she asked then, voice soft and almost shy, as she threw a glance in the direction the old woman had disappeared into.

Vladimir sighed, eyes rolling of their own accord as he relaxed against the back of the couch, his shoulder pressing right against hers. “She’s always thought I needed woman in my life. She says that ‘I’m too rough around edges,’ that I need someone to show me the good side of things.” He turned his head, then, and instead of meeting a look that mirrored his, he found her smiling softly at him, almost too lost in her thoughts to pay any attention to him.

“It would be a pity if she found out that we’re not… Y’know, a thing,” she reasoned out loud, taking his hand in hers just a few seconds before Ulyana came back with a box of Danish biscuits.

God bless Ulyana I guess! 🤷🏻‍♀️

Feedback always appreciated, suggestions always welcome as well :)

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rosaliekali · 4 years

Note

Soulmate AU for IkeVamp with MC and Comte?

So writing for Comte is so hard because the timeline is so skewed, but I tried my best. This is not written to be true to history so bear in mind the inaccuracies and the modern language.

Contains spoilers to Comte’s route in JP and is a little angsty-ish?

The first time he meets her, she is the daughter of a Duke in an English court. Her family has decided to throw a lavish ball to flaunt their wealth. As a member of a powerful noble family in France, he is invited and taking the place of his father for the evening.

Meanwhile, her own father, a tall and proud man something-in-line for the British throne, welcomes Comte eagerly as he arrives at the Manor and a servant takes his coat. The year is 1335 and Europe is under Edward III. The British Duke clasps Comte’s hands eagerly.

“Monsieur, how brilliant you could join us! Has your father not come?” The Duke tilts his head and takes a step back.

Comte shifts uneasily and brushes a lock of his long hair behind his ear. His father has sent him in his stead. The British Duke is wealthy enough to be of importance in Europe, but not powerful enough to intrigue the Patriarch of a Pureblooded Family. Comte, expected to take his father’s place one day and join the ranks of the nobles, has been sent in his place. His family is hoping he will gain a shred of honor on this excursion and return ready to assume the mantle of a noble.

“Unfortunately, he feels ill,” Comte soothes and pretends to be apologetic, “His wishes are with you and your family.”

The British Duke quickly loses interest once another noble walks up. He makes a sound at the back of his throat and motions for Comte to enter the Manor. He can see a dance is starting deeper in the home and the festivities are well under way.

“Enjoy tonight!” The British Duke declares. He waves his hand at Comte and his Soulmate Stamp glitters in the candlelight. With a final smile, he hurries past Comte and joins another noble couple with the flourish of a host.

Comte makes a face and wishes he had been allowed to bring his friend Vlad with him. He toys with the buttons of his coat and makes his way inside. While humanity intrigues him, the role of the nobility does not. His family may want him to become a well-bred Pureblood like the fussy men his father often dines with, but the world of customs and propriety is a boring one.

Fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket, he absentmindedly traces the words inked on his own skin from birth. Like the human Duke, he too has a Soulmate Stamp, a mark depicting the first words his True Intended will ever say to him. On his wrist are the words, Pardon, Monsieur.

Comte has yet to meet his Intended yet, has no idea if they have even been born given the long lifespan of a Pureblood, and a part of him is relieved he does not know who they are. The thought of tying himself to just one person when there is an entire world out there of women seeking company and waiting to be wooed is not one he appreciates. He has seldom turned 21 by human standards, is nothing but an infant in vampire standards, and settling down is not on the forefront of his mind. Not to mention his family, as Purebloods, has raised him to understand that any Intended that is human will never work. To be tied to a human would be a cruel fate.

No, he’d much rather enjoy life and get up to no good with Vlad and a few of the prettier women in Europe that will be temporary distractions with no strings attached.

The music is in full swing when he enters the dance hall, most of the eligible ladies have already been partnered for the evening. Comte stands by the doorway with his arms clasped respectfully behind his back. He feels out of place among the humans. While he loves humanity, he does find their never-ending need for rules a bother.

If only Vlad had joined him, he thinks, his oldest friend could turn any activity into something fun. Vlad would shine in a party like this, he would make Comte laugh as he teased the stuffy older men and winked at the young ladies seeking dance partners, and then they would probably find someone to bring home for the night. The taste of blood freshly drawn from its source was very satisfying after all.

As the waltz draws to a close and Comte glances at his pocket watch wondering if his father would be upset if he left before making rounds around the hall, the British Duke arrives again. Accompanying him is his wife and young daughter. They take their stand at the foot of the steps and the Duke calls for attention.Comte tries not to yawn into his hand as the Duke delivers a speech thanking his guests and how he hopes they will have fun. Lately, balls have been all the rage in Europe. Anyone who has money and a title to pair it with seems to want to throw one. Comte is long past over any festivity that demands he follow a noble code.

When the Duke is finished, he raises his hand in a toast. His Soulmate Stamp is visible on his arm as his wife joins his side yet their Stamps do not match. Like every other Noble, they do not marry off a mark. Humans, especially those who fancy themselves wanting to marry above their station, ignore Soulmate Stamps all together. In the world of the Nobility, marriages are a business transaction used for elevation. A Soulmate Stamp is nothing but a fancy birthmark.

The Duke and his guests toast to each other and Duke’s young daughter hangs back uneasily. A girl of about his age, she remains quiet and offers a timid smile to anyone who glances her way.

When the Duke descends the staircase, the music picks up again and another song leads the couples to the dance floor. Feeling bored, Comte decides this is his chance to escape. The hour is not so late, if he leaves now perhaps he can find Vlad and they can go to a much livelier atmosphere with attractive company and strong liquor.

Just as he raises his hand to beckon a servant for his coat, his arm slams into something light. A sudden gasp makes him turn and the daughter of the Duke is behind him. It seems he has accidentally hurt her.

“Pardon, Monsieur,” a timid voice apologizes.

Right as the words leave her lips, a sudden burning light lights up the inside of his wrist on his Stamp and a sweet scent floats towards him. Startled, Comte takes a half step back. His arm goes to his Soulmate Stamp and his fingers press to the burning skin there in utter shock.

“The fault is mine,” he echoes without thinking, and the young girl tenses in place. Her hand goes to her own wrist and Comte can see a light emitting from underneath the long sleeves of her gown.

For a moment, neither speak. The girl seems startled, color flushing on her cheeks, and Comte tries to think of what to do. Meeting his Soulmate was inevitable at some point in his long life, but he wishes he had paid more attention to what to do once it occurred. His father had tried to teach him multiple times how to deflect from this very occurrence, warning him that any Soulmate that was not a Pureblood would be a Failed Match-that is a match that was rejected-but Comte had seldom listened. Now, he regrets it.

“Are you-?”

He cuts himself off with a growing feeling of unease. The mark is still burning faintly on his wrist and the girl looks like a startled doe. It seems she similarly shares his apprehension over meeting now.

Nobles are taught to not like their Soulmate Stamp, Comte recalls from his tutoring. Human nobles see marriage as a transaction for profit, they marry for advancement and income. It is rare for a person to be wed to a Soulmate. Marriages in Europe do not consider Soulmate Stamps as something of importance, his own parents do not have matching Stamps, and they instill in their children the belief that a Stamp is an unfortunate event.

“My name is Eleanor,” the girl says. She worries her fingers over her sleeve and glances around her. The people around them seem oblivious to the exchange, not that they’d care had they been privy to it, Comte knows. Soulmates are boring to nobles; they’d probably just gossip about yet another Failed Match.

Realizing that she is still expecting a response, Comte clears his throat. Briefly, he wonders if he should give her his true name, the name he only shares with his family and Vlad, then decides against it. He feels uncomfortable enough as it is and there is no hope for anything to transpire between them.

In fact, he does not want anything to transpire between them.

She is a human, he realizes. Her blood smells sweet and it takes every ounce of restraint he has to look away. Humans and vampires are a Failed Match from the beginning, his father will never agree to any union between them. Although his family could potentially sweet talk the British Duke into allowing his daughter to marry her Soulmate, his family would never pull strings for someone who could not give them the Pureblooded grandchild they want and even less for someone that would die with a few passing decades.

The girl, Eleanor, must realize it is a Failed Match between them too because she seems uncomfortable. Her fists tighten against her sleeve and she clasps her mouth tightly together. To meet a Soulmate as a noble girl with no say in marriage or reputation to spare for an affair is a tragedy.

“Comte de Saint-Germain,” Comte answers at last. He looks away as the dance around them draws to a close. The scent of her blood is strong, makes him feel thirsty, and the entire night has been soured. He is not ready to meet his Intended yet, especially if she is a Failed Match.

The girl inclines her head and does a half-curtsy. She blinks and Comte realizes she looks distraught. She moves her skirts and nods at him. Her every movement tense, she moves to sidestep him.

This is what should be done, he knows. Soulmates are nothing but an inconvenience for those of noble birth. He should just say goodnight to her and move away. She will be wed off to the highest bidder soon, he has an entire eternity to live, and there is no hope for any match.

Still, a part of him demands he move. Without thinking, he calls her name and extends a hand towards her. Eleanor freezes, startled, and Comte does not allow himself time to think. Turning his palm up with a flourish and bowing the way his tutor showed him as a child, he clears his throat.

“May I have this dance?” Comte inquires.

Eleanor glances around her, visibly upset, but knows better than to reject a dance from someone so important. She takes his hand hesitantly and their Stamps light up in acknowledgement all over again.

A twist of the knife for both, Comte realizes.

Despite the Stamps beckoning them together, society is a wedge keeping them apart. One dance is all they can afford with a Failed Match. Afterwards, they will have to go their separate ways and ignore the way their Stamps want them to meet again.

He leads her to the center of the ballroom where another lively dance is starting. Comte is grateful for the music serving as a distraction. He may be a lousy noble by his family’s standards, but he knows how to dance like the best among them.

Eleanor does too, he realizes, as she keeps up with his every move. Her eyes, a pale green, look in every direction but at him. Her mouth is pressed thin and she looks like she wishes she could leave.

For her, it must be painful to have met her Failed Match. Afterall, a human has only one match in their short lives. She must have daydreamed about meeting him as a child only to grow up and be told her Stamp did not matter. For a young girl growing up with a romantic fantasy of what could never be, the realization that life was unjust must be very difficult. Comte, at the very least, was never allowed to dwell on the possibility by his father at all. For him, tonight is nothing more than just a bitter memory that centuries will surely scrub away.

“You dance well,” he voices. He glances away from her at the many dancing couples. No one around them has a matching Stamp. All of them are Failed Matches united only by propriety and a desire to advance.

“As do you, Monsieur.”

Eleanor meets his eyes for half a second before looking away. Her scent is slowly starting to become stronger. He forces himself to relax the way his father taught him, allow the blood lust to fade away, and counts the beats until the song begins dragging out its last notes.

Once the dance draws to a close, he bows formally. Releasing her hand, he feels a dull ache over his Stamp. The connection between them wants them closer, he realizes, it wants them to acknowledge each other and live out a happily ever after. Unfortunately, the world has different plans.

Eager to get away, Comte makes an excuse about the hour being late and moves aside. Preparing to leave, he startles when a small hand catches on to his sleeve.

Turning in surprise, he realizes Eleanor has taken a hold of his arm. He raises an eyebrow as she drops his hand. Their Soulmate Stamp aches for the contact but she makes no move to touch him again. Her skin flushes and she evades his gaze.

“M-May I write to you?”

It is a bold ask, they both know writing will only make everything seem worse, yet Comte doesn’t outright refuse. The best thing for them both is to go their separate ways. Eleanor should marry a man-a human man-who her family selects, she should forget all about her Failed Match and live the rest of her short life in comfort wedded to a wealthy man like every other noble girl. Comte should go back home and forget all about his first human Failed Match, should allow his family to select a Pureblooded Bride for him who he will wed and continue the line, and should not let a human of all things take up his time-

Yet he feels rebellious. Perhaps it is because he wants to disobey his father, perhaps it is because he wants to break some rules in polite society, or perhaps he just wants some more time to get to know his current Intended, either way, he finds himself nodding.

“You may,” he presses a hand to his immortal heart, “I will respond.”

–

In the end, their letters are nothing but a brief hobby. The first letter arrives months after the ball, Eleanor writes a small letter full of polite platitudes, and Comte responds with his own detached words. Vlad urges him to write more, really get to know his Intended, but they are both aware that a Failed Match is a Failed Match.

After a year of correspondence, his father forces him to stop. Eleanor, he tells him, has married a Spanish Lord and any more correspondence between a married woman and a bachelor-especially that of a Failed Match-is improper.

Comte sends his final letter, a brief farewell wishing her the best in her marriage, then sets his quill down and runs a hand through his long hair.

Vlad, beside him, purses his lips. His old friend rubs his own Soulmate Stamp absentmindedly and Comte is envious of how he has not met his Failed Match yet.

“Does it hurt?” Vlad tilts his head at Comte’s Soulmate Stamp.

Since saying goodbye to Eleanor, the mark has been a constant dull ache. Comte awaits the moment when Eleanor’s short life ends, and the mark leaves him alone.

“It will go away soon enough,” Comte feigns boredom, “Give it a few decades.”Vlad says nothing in response and the two of them look away from each other.

They have been raised to know better than to hope for a True Match when it comes to Soulmates. In their immortal lives, there will certainly be several heartaches.

In the end, Comte is wrong.

It takes only another 3 years for his Soulmate Stamp to stop hurting. The pain finally fades when the Black Death ravages Europe. Quarantining with his family in their estate, a letter reaches him from an old acquaintance. Eleanor and her husband have died of the plague.

Vlad offers him a sympathetic look as he reads over his shoulder, and Comte tosses the letter to the side feigning disinterest. Standing up, he suggests they practice sparring as a distraction.

–

It is about another 100 years before he meets his Intended again. The year is 1440 and he and Vlad are in France. They have just left a ball thrown by another Noble and are still decked out in full formal gear. Vlad swings an arm around his shoulder and laughs in Comte’s ear. His breath smells of liquor yet his steps are even as he walks.

“Shall we find a pretty thing to dine on for the night or just go home?” Vlad asks.

Comte gives a disinterested response and glances down at his pocket watch. The hour grows late and the moon is in full view. He beckons a carriage over for the two of them.

“Tomorrow. I’m too tired for tonight,” he states. Vlad shrugs and puts his hands in his pocket. His Soulmate Stamp still emits a faint glow.

Vlad had the misfortune of meeting his first Failed Match a few years ago, Comte recalls. She was a pretty thing who Vlad met while traveling. A Gaelic girl with a melodic voice and big red curls. Vlad almost chased after her, despite the warnings of his family, before Comte talked him out of it. His Intended was human, would no doubt live barely another decade as was the nature of humans, and Vlad would be worse for it.

Climbing into the carriage, Vlad yawns into his hand. He stretches out and tilts his head back.

“We should go to that tavern you like tomorrow, I bet there is at least one good brawl before the night is over,” Vlad closes his eyes lazily, “Or at least one pretty skirt willing to be fed on.”

Comte makes a sound at the back of his throat in amusement as his friend begins to doze off, he leans his forehead against the carriage window as the roads become cobble. They are now moving through the harshest parts of Paris, the ones nobles know better than to frequent, and he peels the thin curtain back. The streets are too dark to make anything out except for a misty fog.

Disinterested, he drops the curtain and shoves Vlad’s leg aside to make more room for himself. His friend kicks him in response and yawns again into his arm.

“What do you think Margarette of Scotland would do if I asked her to dance?” Vlad inquires, lips turned in a smirk.

Comte raises an eyebrow in amusement. “You? Dance with the Queen? Don’t flatter yourself, mon amie. She probably has a whole line of men asking for her hand. The odds of you coming anywhere near here are about as great as the odds that my father will stop asking me to marry.”

Vlad rolls his eyes and gives Comte a good natured kick again. Tempted to hit him with his cane in response, Comte raises his arm ready to strike-

When the carriage slows to a stop.

“We are stopping,” Comte remarks. Vlad sits up straight and peeks out the window. They are still in the worst parts of town, they both realize, Vlad grimaces.

The driver of the carriage calls for them to sit back while he adjusts the harnesses of the horse. Vlad and Comte don’t bother to listen. Throwing open the carriage door, they both descend and look around.

It is hardly past midnight and the air is cool. Comte tightens his coat around him as he taps his cane on the ground. Vlad’s breath comes out in a chilly fog.

“Do you hear that?” He turns to Comte with his eyes narrowed.

It takes Comte a moment to realize what he means. To the left of them, deeper into the rougher parts of the town, a woman is shouting. He and Vlad give each other a half glance before rushing towards the sound.

Deeper into the poverty district, they can hear a woman argue. When they round a street, they see a man clearly intoxicated and a young girl around their age in human years trying to move away from him. She is dressed in clothing of ill repute, Comte does not have to guess what her profession is or why she is out this late at night with a stranger, and she bats at the man’s hand away with a scowl on her face.

“Is there a problem?” Vlad’s voice echoes in the night.

At the sound of company, the man startles. Letting go of the woman’s hand, he spins around. His countenance is very much intoxicated and his voice slurs.

“Who are you?”

Free of him, the woman shrugs his arm and wraps a thin cloak around herself. Her dark eyes are fierce with anger.

“I think you’ve had too much to drink,” Comte smoothly tells the man. He puts a smile on his face, the sort he uses when he wants to hide his irritation with important people, and places a hand on his heart.

The man smells thickly of liquor as Vlad takes a step forward. His gold eyes are hard and the smile on his face isn’t as reassuring as Comte’s. “Perhaps we should take a coach home, da? The hour grows late. One would not want to be caught here.”

The girl huffs and smooths out the creases in her cloak. She regards the three of them with disgust and braces herself against the frigid air.

“Pardon, Monsieur,” she states. She stalks past Comte the moment he feels his Stamp begin to burn and light up.

The sheer shock of it all makes him freeze. His hand goes to his arm where his Stamp has lit up again in a hundred years and he feels some of the color draining from his face.

Another Failed Match so soon?

“Wait, you-“

He cuts himself off, but the damage has already been done. As soon as he has spoken, her own Stamp has lit up. Even with the cloak covering her arms, the light is evident peeking out the fabric.

The girl freezes mid-step but does not turn around. Her hand cups the inside of her wrist and her entire body goes rigid.

The night suddenly becomes quiet. Vlad, now supporting the drunken man with an arm around his back, turns to look at Comte. His gold eyes are narrowed as if waiting for Comte to make a move.

Comte feels a cold pit form in his stomach.

To have found a second Failed Match in just a hundred years is the epitome of bad luck. Fate has played a mockery of him yet again. His Intended is a human once more and a human of a different class than he. While he could have potentially married her the first time as both members of the Noble class, this union would be impossible. A woman of ill repute and a high-born Noblemen together would have made for a scandal that would have rocked Europe like no other.

The girl must realize it too because she doesn’t turn to look back. It seems she has already made up her mind as to what will transpire between them. Europe has still not embraced the custom of Soulmate Stamps and its people still think of them as awful things. Like the other human girls, and with more on the line as someone who cannot afford to have a partner in her profession, she despises it.

Vlad elbows him in the ribs and the gesture brings him back. Comte realizes that he has been frozen staring at the girl in shock. His Stamp aches and the light is starting to turn into something less bright.

“Mademoiselle, shall we give you a ride back home?” He throws Comte a look, “It is not safe for a lady to walk on her own.”

The girl makes a sound at the back of her throat and turns to regard them for the first time. Her eyes are a dark brown, Comte realizes, a nice, rich color. His throat begins to feel tight as a rustling breeze drifts her scent over. Like the first time, her scent is something incredibly sweet and alluring. He has to look away.

“Non,” she draws the hood over her dark hair and looks away, “Not necessary.”

She turns to walk away and Vlad elbows Comte again. His friend is waiting on him to say something, perhaps ask the girl to reconsider, but Comte already feels uncomfortable enough. Comte is not Vlad. Vlad may have been tempted to run off with his Intended upon first meeting her, but Comte knows a Failed Match is a Failed Match.

Since his childhood, his family has allowed humans to be in contact with him. Comte was raised and educated by human tutors who he learned to care for and had human governesses who gave him all the love of a mother for as long as his family could risk. He has loved and he has lost, and he does not need the heartbreak of a Failed Match to torment him in the sleepless nights he spends.

Perhaps Vlad could let himself lose, but Comte refuses to do so.

“Bonne nuit,” Comte finally voices out. He turns around and does not wait for a response. Sticking his hands in his coat and tapping the cane on the ground as he walks, he turns his back on his second Failed Match and hopes once more it’s his last.

Just behind him, so quiet he almost believes he imagined it, he hears his Intended whisper it back before disappearing into the shadows.

–

Back at the carriage, Vlad joins him after dumping the intoxicated man at his home. He eyes Comte wearily as Comte traces his Stamp still glowing a faint light. A dull ache throbs on his wrist and Vlad raises an eyebrow.

“We can find her?” He tilts his head waiting for a response.

Comte turns his back and stares out the window as the carriage begins to roll along. He squeezes his hand into a fist and wonders how long it will be before his Stamp stops aching. 5 years? 10?

“No.”

The response is quiet and thankfully Vlad knows better than to prod. He clambers into the seat next to Comte and they both try to forget the encounter.

In the end, it only takes 5 years for the mark to stop aching.

–

A field of roses blankets their vision. Vlad is laying down on the grass and his gold eyes are watching the fading sun with a hard expression. Comte sits next to him leaning back on his hands.

They are both quiet, watching the sun go down, and Comte bites down on the inside of his cheek.

Vlad is in mourning.

A year ago, while traveling Russia, he met his Intended a second time. She was a beautiful Slavic girl named Zofeia. Unlike Comte who has learned to turn away each Failed Match and forget them the way a Pureblood is to forget every human match, Vlad refuses to learn the lesson. He chased after her and wedded her in a private ceremony. According to Vlad, she was a loving girl who had eyes the color of the bright sky and made him strawberry pastries. He taught Vlad to garden and brightened up his immortal life for a year-

Up until a disease ripped her away. She died in Vlad’s arms and the Pureblood returned to France with a deep melancholy and a dim Stamp.Comte pities him.

Vlad was always the more sensitive of the two when it came to humans. Vlad loved humanity every bit as much as Comte, but he had largely been shielded of the pain of losing those he cared about. While Comte’s family hired human staff and allowed humans to befriend Comte, Vlad was raised by his family with only Lesser Vampires for company. His family only interacted with other Purebloods and Vampires and Vlad had never truly learned to say goodbye to humans. While Comte has been careful in turning away his Intended each time, Vlad has always let himself get too close. Perhaps after this Failed Match he will learn to not let humans in. To have to say goodbye to someone you loved…

No, Comte was better off alone until his Intended introduced themselves as a Pureblood.

After a long pause of silence, Vlad finally speaks up. While his voice sounds even, as if nothing is the matter, the sadness in his gold eyes speaks volumes. Comte knows the wounds of loss are still too fresh.

“I believe in a world where humans and vampires can coexist. A world where we can all live together in unity and equality…”

He lets his voice drift off and his fingers reach out to a rose in full bloom. He strokes the petals and Comte glances at him from the corner of his eye.

“Do you still think humans and vampires can coexist?” He tries not to let the surprise register on his face. After the pain Vlad has just endured…he still wants to believe in the impossible?

“Of course. I have decided I will always love humans,” Vlad responds. His fingers trace his Stamp idly. The skin there has ceased glowing and now looks dull in the fading sunlight. A testament to his loss…now a signature of his vow.

“Humans will die. They are not eternal. Time flows differently between us, Vlad, they will leave our sides with time,” Comte responds.

He recalls his Intended each time she has graced his presence. He has met her as an English noblewoman with doe eyes and a shy demeanor, and a French woman of ill repute with fierce eyes and independent nature. He will undoubtedly meet her again and again, each time different, through his immortal life, but he has long decided he will never allow her near.

His family may have been ruthless in their dismissal of human staff and ruthless in the way they allowed every human he ever cared for leave without so much as a goodbye, but at the very least they were honest. Humans were fragile things who lasted less than the lifespan of a rose. They would age and they would die, and the loss of an Intended he allowed himself to love was too great for him to imagine.

The fact that Vlad, at his side, had lived it before and still believed the pain was worth it was as poetic as it was pathetic.

Still, Comte closes his eyes and recalls every human he has loved as a child.

The elderly tutor that had gifted him his pocket watch and treated him as a son, the young governess with a brilliant smile that had raised him as if he were her own, the butler his father had hired when he was young that would make him laugh with his stories, the maid his mother had hired that would sing Comte to sleep as a child and was the only one who could soothe him during his tantrums…

Each human, each temporary. They had all left him once and he had been devastated by their loss. Comte could not imagine what losing a Soulmate would do to him. Vlad was stronger and much braver than he.

“Humans are beautiful,” he said at last, “Their ephemeral quality makes them beautiful, like roses, but they fade faster than the flowers. They are a different species from us, and I should have listened to my family as a child. My family tried telling me every time I cried over a human caretaker being dismissed that an eternal life was a life of goodbyes.”

Vlad turns to him and his fingers tighten over the mark on his wrist.

“I do not care. I have decided to love a human’s ephemeral moments too. They bring joy even if it is only temporary.”

Comte was willing to give him that much. “True, it is their mortality that allows them to shine even if only temporary.”

A silence reigns over them both and they dwell on everything. Vlad on the Intended he just lost and Comte on the ones he never allowed himself to meet. Finally, Vlad stands, and the stars illuminate his silhouette.

“Would you close yourself off then? Never allow a human to come near you?”

“No, that is not possible. I cannot avoid humans forever; I will have to be near them at some point. Even if I tell myself I will only visit Purebloods and will marry someone my family wants me to, I will never be able to avoid humans all together. Fate will always have a different plan,” Comte stands.

His Soulmate Stamp seems to mock him in the moonlight. He might want to close himself from humans forever, but his Soulmate will always find him someway or another. Avoiding is futile, the best he can do is to simply ignore it.

Vlad gives his back to Comte and stares up at the moon and stars newly reigning over the horizon. His hand with his dim Stamp drops to his side and his jaw locks. Suddenly having made up his mind of something, he spins around.

“What if we could prolong human life? Bring back great humans so that their gifts will extend the test of time and can brighten the world,” He walks towards Comte and his eyes have taken on a new light, “Create life that will withstand time? A rose that never withers?”

Staring at him, Comte raises his eyes. “A rose that never withers?”

The corners of Vlad’s mouth turn up and he grabs his hand, shaking it. A sealed promise. An agreed upon vow.

“Let’s make it together. A rose that never withers.”

–

Centuries after that fateful decision, Comte sits next to a new friend. Leonardo da Vinci, an Italian polymath and Pureblood, joins him for a smoke on a balcony of a newly furnished mansion. Vlad has long since become a stain on Comte’s memory and the relationship between the two has soured. The only remnant of their friendship is a door that can travel through time. Comte intends to use it soon to bring back his first prolonged human life, a famous playwright named Shakespeare.

Leonardo leans against the railing of the balcony and the smoke seeps out of his mouth. He raises his hand to brush his hair back and his Stamp is illuminated in the moonlight. Unlike Comte who has seen his Stamp light up over and over, Leonardo has yet to meet his first Failed Match. Comte is almost envious.

“Still haven’t met your Intended?” Comte needles and he holds his cigar a loft.

He’s been doing that a lot lately, he realizes, smoking. Leonardo likes to mock him although the Italian freeloader taking advantage of Comte’s hospitality certainly could do with looking in a mirror and recognizing his own smoking habit.

Leonardo glances at Comte and shoves his hands into his coat hiding his Stamp from view.

“Nah, I never want to. One partner for all eternity seems like too much work.”

Comte makes a sound at the back of his throat. “I pity the poor girl who has your Stamp wherever she may be or whenever she may be. I would never recommend you as a prospective match.”

Leonardo shoves him in response. He leans against the railing and clenches his jaw. Thinking hard, he finally decides to return the question in kind.

“How many times have you met her?” He tilts his head to the side.

Comte takes his time answering. A myriad of names and faces clouds his vision and he can almost feel his Stamp ache if he dwells on them too long. Failed Match after Failed Match. Too many already.

A British Noble girl, A French Lady of the Night, An Egyptian peasant, a British nurse during wartime, an American creole recently freed from bondage…and so many more he has never allowed himself to get close to. Failed Match after Failed Match. For some, he does not even have a name to a face. for others, he does not even remember how long ago it was.

They all blend together, at some point, when your life is an endless stream of failed encounters and goodbyes.

“Too many,” Comte finally answers.

His voice is final, closed off, and Leonardo knows better than to pry. The Italian gives him a look of almost sympathy before obscuring his emotions from view and raising the cigar back to his lips. The topic of conversation dies away just like every Failed Match of his has in the past.

By now, Comte has lost count of the Failed Matches he has encountered. His Intended has come and gone in many forms and each of them he has kept at an arm’s length never wanting them near. He has long since decided to ice his heart and not allow them in the way Vlad has in the past.

Instead, he fills his time with a makeshift family he has created for himself. His home is full of Residents collected from different time periods. Writers, musicians, geniuses, and soldiers. He welcomes them all into his home and creates a family out of them. All men who have never met their Intended either, careful to bring back only those who consent, and those who are willing to taste immortality however briefly. Pretty soon, his home is full of lively discussion and the occasional argument he must break up like the father of a mansion.

He travels time and meets new people. He has ventured to all time periods, even those in the future, and has met so many new people. His Stamp has become nothing but a bother at this point.

Europe may have changed its attitude towards Soulmates, cultural revolutions have now embraced and promoted the ideal in media, but Comte refuses to be swayed. After centuries of goodbyes, he learns to keep it all at arm’s length.

The Louvre is his current destination. After a month in the future, he is ready to return home to his little quaint family and have their dinner together. He can see the door leading back to his estate at the back row of exhibits.

Still, something makes him stop. Something gold glitters at his feet and he bends down to pick it up. A pretty earring in the shape of a half moon crescent. Comte stares down at it in his palm and has only to turn his head to find its owner.

A young woman stands with her back to him. She stares at a painting and makes no notice that one of her ears is missing a piece.

Comte walks up to her and his Stamp begins to itch. The air seems to shift but he’s long ago learned to stop paying attention to it. The young woman remarks about the size of the painting before her quietly to herself.

Comte walks up to her side. “Did you know, it’s the second largest painting in the Louvre.”

Surprised, the woman turns around. She’s pretty, Comte realizes, with Auburn hair. A tourist. She holds a smartphone in her hand, and Comte’s eyes are drawn to her wrist.

A light has lit up on her wrist and her Stamp begins to spark. He feels his own Stamp respond in kind just as she opens her mouth and repeats the same phrase she has said repeatedly each time in different lifetimes.

“Pardon, Monsieur?” Mystified, she blinks brown eyes up at him.

Used to meeting his Intended, Comte ignores the burning in his wrist and extends her earring to her. He hopes his face is neutral, showing nothing, and that she will not try to keep him longer. He has long since sworn to himself he would never let her get close if she were a human.

“I knew it, this earring belongs to you.”

He deposits the piece of jewelry into her palm as her fingers fly to her ear. She asks herself when she lost it yet her eyes are still startled. It is as if she believes herself in a dream, Comte realizes, cannot begin to comprehend her Intended is before her.

“If you hold still, Mademoiselle,” he suggests. Not waiting for her reply, he takes the earring and adjusts it for her tightening the backing to her ear.

Up close, he can sense her. His Stamp flares at the contact and he tries to ignore the way she tenses. Her scent drifts up, a sweet smell, and he forces himself to step away. Centuries of saying goodbye have made him rather good at evading her. Practice makes perfect.

“That’s a lovely fragrance,” he murmurs. He knows it by memory, the smell of her blood never changes despite the lifetime she meets him in.

“T-thank you, I bought it in Paris,” the girl blinks up at him dazed.

Her fingers clench tightly unto her own Stamp. She struggles to find a way to broach the topic, tries to find something to say to her Intended who she has no doubt fantasized meeting her entire short, short life-

Comte turns away.

“Oh, but I wasn’t referring to your perfume,” he looks back towards the door and ignores the way his Stamp begins to ache, “Bon voyage.”

The girl balks at him and tries to stop him. Her eyes are wide and her Stamp is still glowing stark against her skin. Comte briefly wonders how long his will glow before her life ends and it loses its color. 50 years? 60?

Either way, he is uninterested in finding out. Ignoring her calling for him to stop, he shoves his hands in his coat and tells himself she is nothing but another Failed Match. Fate has seen fit to torment him once more.

Walking towards the door, he fails to realize the girl has taken chase and will follow him into another time period.

It seems this Match intends to be True.

#Ikemen Vampire #cybird #cyikemen #ikevam comte #soulmate au #writing request #not entirely proud of this one tbh

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antihero-writings · 5 years

Note

Slight prompt/AU. Vlad arriving to the village earlier than in canon. Though is it early enough to save Lisa?

Ahhhhh I’m so sorry this took so long!!

I was thinking this would be a short like 1000/2000 word fic

...And here we are, 5000 words later...

Thank you so much for this prompt!! I honestly really like how it turned out!!

What is a man?

If there are stupid questions in the classroom of life, that must qualify as one. Too simple, too crass. For…surely we must know by now. Even those of us who aren’t human are around them enough—(and ‘enough’ is too much)—to come up with some sort of answer.

Despite all this, this question, perhaps the single question whose answer must come easiest to our lips—muscle memory instead of something to think about—is one even those who are human find difficulty in answering. So simple it’s complicated, like saying the the answer to a another question: “I’m not okay.” Too many facets, too many reflections cast on the wall by a single gemstone.

Vlad finds himself asking that question more often than he should.

Dracula was a man once. And maybe that means he ought to know the answer. But when you live long enough as something slightly to the left of human—not far, but removed enough to scorn humanity and their faults as something other—you tend to forget that fact. You tend to forget that you were one of them once. You tend to forget the answer to that question.

He tried to. Remember, that is. He actively tried to remember the answer. Or come up with a new one.

Because of her. Because Lisa wanted him to.

She told him she would teach him how to be human again. Love a woman. Raise a child. Travel the world. She’d take this thing, dark, and monstrous, and extraordinary, and make him mortal. Make him see the answer in the faceless mirrors. She would change that label into conversation, until that question, its answer, rested comfortably in his quiet mind.

That’s what he’s been doing. Loving her. As a man. Putting her picture upon his castle’s walls. Staying in a little cottage by the creek. Raising a child. As a man. Bouncing him on his knee. Teaching him all he knows. Traveling the world. As a man. Asking to be invited. Wearing simple cloaks instead of royal robes. Curbing a thirst, a disdain, that once drove his every action into refined honor.

As a man. That phrase was once so soft, now rumbles low in the back of his mind, an incessant humming that increased in volume until it was loud enough, constant enough to make anyone mad.

That question, the answer, was clearing, pond stagnance into a river’s clear tones, slowly—(everything was slow with them, wasn’t it?)—and he could almost see the answer on the river floor.

But when he walks into the village of Lupu, expecting to return home, like a soldier from his own personal war, to a quaint cottage, a beautiful wife, whose face he hasn’t seen in far too long, and a son who has grown far too much in the time he was away…and finds a few drops of blood and a pile of charcoal—

A rock is thrown into the water, making those years of clarity murky again, and he forgets there was ever anything human in him.

...Either that, or he remembers far too well.

And everything that clouded his eyes before flares up with a vengeance, turning his gaze red once again.

“Where happened?” his voice burns in his throat, this question, and the other, rotting his lungs, his heart, “Where is my wife?”

“Ohh.” The woman’s voice is feeble, like a wisp of the smoke surrounding them, “The Bishop took her. Witchcraft, he said. They’re burning her at the stake.” He doesn’t like how she says it like it’s already done, already too late. “She was good to me, your wife. A good doctor. It’s not right what happened.”

“Where are they holding her?” his hair falls across his eyes, “The Cathedral?”

“Oh. Oh, no, sir. They’ll be burning her now.” The woman’s voice is far too gentle to say a truth so violent.

“What?” The word is thrown onto the ground.

“I couldn’t be there. I don’t care what they say. I wont take joy in that woman being killed by the Church. I’m here remembering her instead.”

What is a man?

So long Dracula has spent trying to understand them, to live like them, be like them, for her. He traveled, and didn’t use magic to move or communicate, because she didn’t want him to go into this halfheartedly.

And now he returns to her, and finds that they, the people she loved, who she tried to heal and save, they took her, like interrupting him before the end of a sentence.

Dracula isn’t one for wanton emotion, but the sorrow and anger burns in his eyes, and red clouds his vision.

“She said to me, if you would love me as a man, then live as a man. Travel as a man.”

“She said you were traveling.”

“I was.” He looked at his hands, at the ring she gave him, “The way men do. Slowly.” He says the word like the idea is an insult to him, the next two words his defense, his battle against it, digging his nails into his palm. “No more.”

What is a man?

What is this woman? What is she to him but a quavering voice that he could all-too-easily break? What is she to him that he should deem her life worth something?

No. She is someone who is kind, says something in the back of his brain. She is someone who didn’t stand and watch. Who protested in the only way she knew how. She is someone who knew Lisa, and honored Lisa, and for that she ought not be punished. As the rest of his mind, the rest of his body, burns in an undead fire of kill, kill, kill them, kill them all, that other part of him says She is someone worth saving.

So he does. One last kindness in her name.

And, as he teleports in a flash of flames, with little regard for the flowers she left, he is a vampire again. After all those years of walking he does not walk those last steps to his castle. He trades the clothing of kind words for the garb of contempt again. After all those years of fasting from murder’s nectar, he is ready to raid their skins and pillage their blood.

“What the fu—! Father!” There’s someone else here, a man—well, not fully, he is half-vampire too, on his father’s side—who was previously reading in the chair.

Dracula motions for the mirror shards on the floor to raise themselves, giving no sign that he even noticed his son.

“You’ve returned!” Alucard stands, a little haphazardly, pushing back his hair, muttering, “I would have appreciated some warning…But I’m—!”

He stops himself, his eyes flashing, gold tinted with fear.

This is no ordinary mirror; its image is not the room in reverse. It is a cracked, silver lens, and Alucard sees within its glass a crowd of humans, all around a sort of altar, shouting, raising bitter fists around a pile of wood—one piece higher than the rest, like another hand lifted in a plea for mercy—and is this what hell looks like?—worshipping a single word, the color orange, and the smell of smoke.

And in the center of it all, tied to that drifted piece of wood, is a woman, a woman with blonde hair and blue eyes, like a gold piece glinting amongst the river sludge. A woman who is different from them—and perhaps they are killing for it.

And they are killing her.

They are tossing wood onto those flames, egging it to reach up and grab her.

The same woman who held Adrian when he scraped his knees, and kissed him goodnight, and told him of the world out there, and how it wasn’t so bad, in fact it was quite good, and the people were the best part.

They are killing his mother.

“That isn’t—?!” The words are little more than a gasp for air.

His father doesn’t answer, as if there are none left in him anymore, but when he steps into the mirror the look in his eyes—like a soldier going back into war—is enough to make Adrian follow.

With a single step the atmosphere shifts; the cozy warmth of the tame fire becoming a fetid heat that could suffocate you if you sat in it in long enough, the smell of smoke and something…cooking enough to make anyone with a sense of right and wrong feel sick, the quiet air of the study shredded with a single word:

“Witch.”

Like that word—that name, that truth, that lie— is enough to damn her.

The fire is not the creature it was in the study, curled up quietly behind bars, providing warmth to the space. They let it loose for the beast it is when allowed to gorge itself, and that warmth, once so inviting, has become something hot enough to bite. To kill.

Like too many things, something calm has become mad at the sound of a human’s voice; something tender a weapon in human hands.

They’re burning her.

Oh God—and it is God they’re doing this for, or at least they think they are—they’re burning her. They’re burning her. They’re burning his wife. They’re burning my wife!

Bloodthirst is an all-too familiar friend to the vampire king, but this is different. Different in them. Different in him.

In them it is a sick thing. Some sort of red lunacy. That word “witch” is laced; a drug that makes them less sane the more they shout it, turning them from intelligent beings with some sense of propriety into things that would eat their own children if given the chance. Severing their tongues, sharpening their teeth, infesting their mouths, rotting their eyes, wriggling in and out of their ears, corroding their faces into the form of beasts, ghouls and demons. They are far more undead than the king of vampires ever was.

In him, before, it was hunger, instinct. A single string in an undead thing. This is alive. This is not some out-of-his-control link, tying a lifeless toy to its animator. This comes from within. It rushes through him like a well-timed-lightning strike; like love, like rage. This is hurt-them-like-they-hurt-me, like-they’re-hurting-her. This is more than just wanting to drink blood; he wants to see them bleed. He wants to stain their oh-so-holy ground with the sins that would send them to beneath it. To dye their pious sky the color of heresy.

What is a man?

It’s been a long time. A long time since he’s killed. Killing was an exotic pet—admirable to own, but formidable to control—which he gave up for adoption, for someone who could better care for, tame it. A cause he no longer believed in. A game he hit quit on.

It’s been a long time, a long time since he viewed men and women as merely blood to be spilled.

It’s been a long time since that field of skeletons choking on stakes.

The Vlad of today—or, at least, a few hours ago—was different. He knew that those bones were people, once. That they had souls, and only the most bloodthirsty of humans deserved to have those souls stolen by a stake. Now that he had a family, he knew what he had taken those bloody bones away from.

He gave up the malice for her. Because of her the word ‘massacre’ didn’t flutter so dulcetly upon his ears. She cleared the red from his eyes. She’s the one who taught him to walk again—as she did with their son. She’s the one who told him that peasants with knowledge would be something more; not a lost cause, a beast to be put down, but something that could do some good. That there was something deep beneath their skin worth saving…just like him.

The other vampires may view them as livestock, but they’re not animals. They have dreams and brains, and hearts, and they are capable of being better than this.

And that’s what makes this so damn sick.

Now…now she is not by his side. She is up there, with her hands behind her back, and the color orange desecrating all the other hues on the canvas that is her life, and they’re all sitting there watching like some macabre stage show…not a single one of them standing up to say “No. No we won’t behave like animals anymore.” And the things he did with and for and because of her he can’t remember, blocked off by the barrier of blood between her and him.

Well, if they are going to act like animals—

if they are going to stand and watchhis wife—the woman who he lie in the grass and counted the stars with, who made them cookies, and who he could never beat at chess—burn—

If they’re going to sit here and shout to the Lord while her hands, which wrapped around him so gently, turn red, then black, char—

Her lips, which kissed his cheek, crack and bleed and break—

Her voice, which raised at him, then fell quietly that on his ears, which spoke so passionately about medicine, rip until it didn’t work anymore—

Her heart, which was always for this creatures, which was bigger than all their evil, melt—

Her soul—she has one too, you know, she didn’t sell it or anything—get devoured by their insolence, like she isn’t one of them—

Then he’s going to treat them like animals.

“Father—!” Adrian’s voice is dull in the back of his mind, like his own conscience and all its foolish wisdom.

Alucard probably thinks they can do this quietly. They can talk it out with the beasts. They can explain that she isn’t a witch, and there’s no need for burning. That they will be able to untie her and take her home safely, and no one has to die. That he can unfork their tongues. That he can unravel the thirst from their mouths, the insanity from their brains.

What is a man?

But Dracula, Dracula knows what they are. They are mongrels. They are demons. And what’s the use trying to talk to a thing that can only grunt back? What’s the use speaking of heaven to a thing with hell woven behind its eyes?

He forgot how sweet death tasted.

And the moon, once a quiet guide of their stargazing, is a fuming guard on his side. He takes their royal blue night in his grasp and wrings its neck—with nothing more than a thought—its blood poured out until their sky, their earth, their eyes fill with the color he sees everything in.

It doesn’t take long before screams cut that ignorant word from the air. Until they fall like dominoes, one after the other in this game of life with no winners or losers, only destined to come crashing down.

Dracula doesn’t catch sight of their faces, doesn’t remember that they are individuals, and have souls. He forsakes the part of him that says worth saving, worth saving, worth saving for the thing on his shoulder chanting kill, kill, kill. He knows only the taste of iron, the sound of their hearts breaking, the smell of meat and charcoal, the feeling of flesh breaking beneath his nails, hearts still beating in his dripping fingers, the warmth of blood on his skin, his tongue.

“NO!”

Then there is another voice. And this voice does not belong to the faceless horde. This voice that sounds like sunlight feels, but which is weathering beneath the elements.

“No! Please…don’t do this! Don’t hurt them! Don’t kill them!”

And something, something comes rushing back to him. Decorating the castle for Christmas. Her head on his shoulder as she sat with him by fire, hiding out from the cold. Her laying in bed, draped in light, a boy with her golden hair, and his features laying his head on her shoulder as she read to him. Her kissing Adrian goodnight with a smile and a lullaby—

Don’t say goodnight just yet.

And the sound of that voice makes the blood taste sour. Makes the flesh feel too soft, the bones harder to break. Makes the cries sink teeth into his ears. Slices the moment, turning the sky-light blue again. Makes him freeze, not with the cold; but with the warmth the blood made him feel. And her name is barely a breath in his mouth, more like the beat of his heart…more like every breath.

No. Not this. Not here. Not now, when Lisa—when his sun and stars and to-the-moon-and-back—is watching.

“Mother!” their son has strength, virtue enough to speak in the face of her voice, and in a flash of red he is on the altar near her.

Her husband follows, a growl and a blink and he is beside their reason for coming here.

As Adrian goes to cut his mother down. Dracula turns to the surrounding humans, looking like vultures surrounding a corpse, waiting to feast on death.

“I am Vlad Dracula Tepes,” he magically magnifies his voice, “and you will tell me why this thing is happening to my wife.”

“Oh no! Oh God, Dracula! He was supposed to be a myth!” The mayor says like this was some grand cat’s-out-of-the-bag moment, “A story made up by heretics!

“She…she’s a witch.” The man, the one who started this all, speaks.

He is old and balding, wearing the red and gold that said he presided over holy things, his features set like he judged people so much it changed the shape of his face, making it impossible for him to smile without it looking like a twisted thing.

What is a man?

Well, the vampire king knows what this man is. He doesn’t need a second’s consideration to know what kind of demon he is dealing with. That he’s the kind of creature who condemns virtuous men, twists the minds of children, and burns women, for fun, and thinks that his ego and his God are the same thing.

“Lisa Tepes is a woman of science, and the one thing that justifies humanity’s stench upon this planet.”

“You are not real.” He says like he can bend existence to his will, like if he just says it enough the demons will suddenly disappear. “You are a fiction that justified the practice of black magic!”

“A fiction?!” the words blazed on his tongue, “You take my wife and deny I even exist!” he digs his nails into his palm, breaking the skin, his pain the only thing keeping from disobeying his wife and digging those nails straight through this man’s chest—(it will all be okay when they return home, he tells himself)—“Tell me, do I seem so fictional now?” He grabs his cloak, holding it up, shooting a wall of fireballs towards them, the orange beast changing allegiance, turning from his wife’s side to gorge itself on the one who set it.

Many bystanders scream, leap out of the way. Windows of nearby buildings shatter, the flames scooping up their innards. The mayor grabs the priest and pulls him away just in time, just; the fire snatches his robes, and he indignantly stamps it out.

Vlad now returns his gaze to his family and sees Adrian talking to Lisa….talking not acting, just talking, like she isn’t going to burn if she remains there.

With teeth bared slightly he raises his claw to cut her rope.

“No…don’t…” Lisa interrupts him, coughing, “If my death can save others…”

His eyes widen. “I’m not leaving you.” His voice is low and irrefutable.

“And I’m not letting you—kill any more of these people.”

“Well?!” The bishop stands, looking at the mayor as if he ought to be doing something, then at Dracula like his existence is more of a great offense to him than an actual threat.

The mayor looks at him, then at Dracula in the way he should: knowing full well what sort of threat a thing with a taste for human blood poses to those who tried to kill his wife.

The bishop closes his eyes, taking out a cross, holding it in front of him “In nomine Patris et Filii…God—”

Vlad teleports before the man-of-something-other-than-God, his cloak dancing in the wind, his eyes red sparks as he stalks his praying prey.

“‘God…’? You say your God is one of love, then proceed burn an innocent woman in His name? Either you have a very poor God, or you are a very poor follower. Regardless, I’d like to see what He thinks of you.” He raises a claw, forgetting for a moment his wife’s command in the face of all this red, about to send it slashing through this man’s chest.

But someone grabs his arm. He’s about to rip the hand off when he realizes it’s not one of the priest’s dogs, but that of his own son. The look in Adrian’s eyes is far too similar to those Lisa gave him when she chastised him…he never understood how something so gentle could be so hard to oppose.

“Father.”

Dracula slowly begins to lower his hand.

But the clergyman does not fall on his knees in a heap of thank-yous and I’m-sorrys; does not look upon the vampire’s son as someone he owes a great debt for deeming his life worth sparing. His lips aren’t capable of admitting such things anymore. His eyes are as beastly as the fire reflected within them, gorging themselves on every scrap of sin they can find. That arrogant gaze falls again upon his wife—Alucard has to keep his father from ripping them out just for looking at her—and his words are, low, horrified, laced with the same drug he put in everyone else’s mouths;

“You...You lie with the devil?!” Then question becomes condemnation, and he says like Dracula, and not he, is the simpering worm, “How utterly vile.”

Alucard’s eye twitches.

“The situation is far worse than we thought,” his knuckles turn white around the cross, “This woman is more than a mere witch. She is the wife of a devil and the mother of a demonspawn!” he jerks his head to the mayor, indignance fused into his irises, “What are you waiting for?!”

Dracula tries to raise his talon again but his son steps in front of him and grabs his other arm, digging his boots into the dirt as he struggles to hold him back, every indication in his eye demanding let me talk to them.

Dracula loses the staring contest.

The fire reflected in the Mayor’s gaze has gotten out of hand. He vaguely motions to the men around him—who look like they’re about to piss in their pants—to do something.

“Don’t worry, I won’t kill you.” The vampire king brings his hand to his face, letting the blood drip down it and drain onto his tongue, “I’ll make sure you live to tell the tale.”

They stare it him, then at each other, the fire, the red, covering their eyes, and they run.

“Cowards.” The priest’s closed fists mutter.

“Please!” Adrian finally makes his move, and his father can tell he’s trying to temper his own rage, “We can talk about this! Like people! Not one sent us, hell or otherwise! The only thing that sent us here was you! Your ignorance, your lunacy! My mother is not a witch! And we are not devils! Just because she had a few beakers and flasks in her house doesn’t mean she’s a witch. And just because my father has a nasty temper”—he gave Dracula a reproving look—“doesn’t mean we’re demons. If you just let her go we will leave in peace!”

The bishop turns to what’s left of the crowd, which now consists of mostly his own followers, no longer waiting for another to act, for the mayor too is nowhere to be found. “Let a pack of rabid mongrels go wild, he says.” He pauses. “What do you say to that?”

“Put them down!” Someone shouts.

The others cry in agreement.

If only they knew how much they looked like mongrels.

The priest gives that gnarled old smile.

“Well fuck you too,” Adrian mutters as they return to Lisa’s side, and his parents, for once, don’t scold him for his foul language.

He’s about to raise his voice again when Lisa breathes,

“It’s okay, Son…they don’t know what they’re doing…”

He stares at her, his mouth slightly open.

No, that can’t be what she’s saying. She can’t be telling him to give up. He can’t go home with well, you tried. He blinks at her, then at his father, and he looks so much like he did when he was a child confronted with a difficult choice that he wants to scoop him up and tell him everything’s going to be okay.

“Yes, I’m inclined to agree with you. Let’s put them down, shall we?” the priest’s mouth is even fouler, and it’s as if he thinks he’s a war commander, not a man who is supposed to sit in quiet places and pray.

Someone comes up the steps behind Alucard, and his floating sword is at his throat before the man even raises his own. “I think we can all agree backing away would be best, yes?”

When one of them touches Dracula’s arm his hand burns. Another comes up behind the first and Dracula wraps his hand around his throat with barely a change in expression.

“Stop!” Lisa cries. “Don’t hurt them!”

He stares her way like he’s a dog with something in his mouth he’s not supposed to. His arm shakes, ever so slightly, caught between two instincts; follow her voice, and kill those who dared hurt her.

“I know it’s cruel, and it’s not your fault, and I wish there was another way too, but you have to let me go. I don’t want you killing anyone else!”

His grip tightens on the man’s throat, and Dracula doesn’t even notice how much the man is grappling at him, trying to scratch his skin, to get him to release him. “If you think I’m letting you go, after everything we’ve been through—”

Something slams into his back, not enough to make him fall over, but enough to cause him to drop the man, who gasps for air pitifully on the ground. The vampire king whirls around to face his attacker and once again sees his son rubbing his shoulder.

He doesn’t have time to demand why he stopped him, for he must block a priest’s sword—“That’s a funny weapon for a priest to be carrying.” he quips aloud—the blade not even piercing his skin. Then he reaches over and grabs his teammate by the collar, sending him flying into a wall nearby before returning to the first, twisting the man’s arm, breaking it.

“Vlad, please!”

One of the holy men pick up a rather large rock, resorting to the other method the church is known for using to judge women of ill-repute.

If Dracula had seen it, he would have been able to stop it.

But it was Alucard who saw it, and the only method he had of stopping it was getting in its way.

“Son!” Dracula teleports catching his wounded son before he hit the ground, his head falling against his father’s shoulder.

What is a man?

Even the cruelest of animals only kill out of instinct. They don’t hit children because they want to send their mothers to hell.

“Vlad! Take Adrian and go!”

The vampire king looks from the two patches of light in his life, then to the humans who want to snuff them out.

How could he ever choose them over her? How could he ever choose the dark over the light?

“You won’t be able to save us both!”

She’s right…it will be difficult to protect them both…impossible without killing or hurting the humans.

So he has a choice; kill, or otherwise harm, most, if not all, the humans here, desecrating his wife’s wishes in order to save her life. Or let his wife die for the sake of these—these—these…

What is a man?

Mongrels? Demons? Blood to be spilled? Maybe.

Someone comes at him, sword raised, and he throws Adrian high into the air, knocking the man down the steps, catching his son before he hits the ground.

“Vlad…please…” her voice is weak but her eyes are strong.

What is a man?

He looks into the twisted faces of these creatures, rushing at him with consecrated blades and blasphemous gaze.

A thing she loves.

That is what they are. No matter what else they are, dogs, ghouls, and hellish things, men, woman, children…she loves humanity. From the day he met her it was clear just how much she cared for them; enough that she wanted to dedicate her own brief existence to saving their equally short, worthless lives. Enough she wanted to remind him how they were capable of more than the pitchforks and the flames, that there was flavor in more than just their blood. Enough that she made him promise to live like his life was as short as hers, and every moment counted.

His time with her was short…But that doesn’t mean that time, that her life was worthless. That every second he spent with her wasn’t a little pocket of eternity.

…And he’s not going to throw away everything she worked for for a few human lives.

He flickers to an alleyway some distance away and sets Adrian down against the wall.

Then he returns, fixes his gaze on the pyre, attempting to wipe the blood off his lips before floating up beside her, out of the clutches of the flames and the fools.

“Vlad…” she tries to look at him out of the corner of her eye, question, reproach there.

He wants to run his hand along her cheek, but his fingers are covered in blood, and he dares not mar her pristine features.

“I said—” Lisa chokes out.

He kisses her hair, and cuts her ropes with one swipe of his claw, catching her before she falls into the fire like a dip in this dance.

“I heard you.”

He sets her down at the wall beside Adrian—gently as if she were a precious vase he ought not break. His son’s eyes blink open, (being the son of Dracula had its perks).

“Father…?” he asks, his voice so small, glancing then at his mother.

He bends down and kisses Adrian on the forehead as if trying to make a booboo feel better.

“Did I ever tell you what a wonderful young man you’ve become?” he’s about to reach his hand to his cheek but thinks better of the blood. “You’ve… grown so much since I last saw you.”

“What—?”

Next to Lisa, “Did I ever tell you you’re as beautiful as the sun on the morning dew?”

“What tavern did you steal that line from?” she coughs, trying to smile.

“Do you have the strength to get out of here?”

They glance at each other.

“What are you going to do?”

Vlad stands up, lets the wind pass them by. “The sun will be up before long.”

“Vlad…I told you—!”

He shakes his head ever so slightly.

Her brow furrows, then upon realizing, her eyes widen.

“But you…no…you can’t!”

It takes Alucard a second, his expression going through a similar metamorphosis. “Wha—Father, you—?! Don’t be a hero!”

“Better than being the villain, don’t you think?”

Adrian grits his teeth.

“As long as I know you two are alright, it will all have been worth it.”

“But…you’re Dracula!” Lisa coughs again, standing shakily, holding on to Adrian for support, “You can’t possibly think my life is worth—!”

“If you think the immortal existence of Dracula is worth more to the world than the mortal life of Lisa and then I suggest you do more research, Doctor.” He smiles wryly.

They stare his way, that fire now twinkling monstrous and wild in their eyes too, their mouths opening and closing, pleas dying on their tongues.

He glances at the shadows of the oncoming attackers on the walls.

He pulls them into a hug, squeezing them tighter than he ever has.

“I love you both so very much,” he whispers into their ears, trying not to let red tears stain their perfect images.

And before they can reply he shoves them back with all the strength he can muster, giving them the best chance of escape he can.

He takes one last look at them, his sun-struck secret, as the sound of holy footsteps rush to him like water.

What is a man?

He turns to the distorted faces of those who will drive stakes, and forks, and blades, and flames into him, and just might succeed if he can’t hurt them in return, all rage and hate and mindless obedience. Twisted, ugly little devils.

But they have families somewhere. Parents. Children. Wives of their own. They have their reasons, their gods, their demons, hidden beneath their skin. Draining their blood won’t show you what they’re made of, not really.

But they forget. They forget that others are the same. That our faces, that our actions, our words today, never show all our yesterdays, the value of leaving us to our tomorrows.

“Have at me.” He mutters sardonically.

He stares up at the moon, the fury of red fading to tranquil blue, blood into water, heresy into holy.

He thinks of his wife and son—who were classified information to the rest of the world—returning safely to his castle tonight, sitting together beneath a blanket before the tame fire.

And that is enough.

What is a man?

He gives a crooked little smile, thinking of himself; looking at him, you’d never know that a loving husband and father was behind those bloody fangs.

A miserable little pile of secrets.

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a-deadly-serenade · 5 years

Text

The Shield and the Sword: Chapter 9: Fickle Feelings [Alucard/Reader]

You’re a witch that is skilled in herbology, one that has been persecuted by the church for practically your entire life. In spite of this, moving throughout different towns has allowed you to pick up some chatter about a woman in a village called Lupu. She is supposed to be a wonder when it comes to medicine, and this immediately perks up your interest. So after plucking up some courage, you’ve made it to her door… hoping that she takes you as her apprentice.

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Although you could confidently say that you preferred spring and summer to the long, dreary days of impending cold brought by winter, there was a serene beauty to be found during the months of autumn. Trees shed their leaves in a beautiful array of colors, from dark browns, to bright reds and oranges, becoming a living breathing painting in the way they danced in the wind.

The ground became blanketed in plush and crunchy leaves that rustled quietly as tiny creatures made their way through the foliage in search of food and safety. Birds had begun their annual migrations to warmer territories, with only the few hardened species sticking around to conquer another harsh winter, as they had been doing for millennia.

The air was crisp, fresh, as though you were taking a bite of one of the juicy apples that had started dropping from the trees, glistening like forbidden gems in the morning dew.

Even though it made you a little sad to see the trees so barren, and the flowers slowly starting to retreat, there was an obvious relief to be felt amongst the plants. Winter was a time for them to sleep, to relax, to prepare themselves for the upcoming spring and summer. The next time you saw all of them, they would be bouncy and refreshed, full of renewed life as they greeted the warm weather with open arms.

You had also recently noticed how much extra free time you had, now that so many of the plants you tended to were beginning to retreat back to the earth. It was great to have more opportunities to fill with extra studying, or extra practice. Recently, you had taken to adapting some of the skills you learned these first few weeks working in Lupu to your magic. Some of the fairies even offered to help, with Aria and Livy being the most enthusiastic.

It was actually nice to have them collaborating with you on this endeavor. They had recently started scouting the gardens for any injured animals for you to practice on, and would take you to them once they had spotted someone in need of a little assistance. Oftentimes it would be a bird with a broken wing, but occasionally you would come across a fox with a busted leg, or a deer that had been injured fleeing from a predator.

From these sessions, you learned how to focus your energy into stopping any serious bleeding that may be occurring, both internally and externally. From there, you moved to repairing whatever it is that had been damaged. Bones took a bit more time to mend than a cut or scratch, but you were slowly building up your stamina on how long you could use your magic in order to tend to an injury.

You had yet to practice this on a human though, and considering how different and how complicated the human body was, you were more than a little skeptical of your abilities. Perhaps… it would be possible to try it on someone you trusted?

Your teeth tug into your bottom lip as you thought this over. Was it time to reveal that you were a witch to the villagers? Your patients? Your friends? It felt so…dishonest not being able to be your complete self when you were around them. It was exhausting having to put up these fronts in order to hide this part of yourself. Castlevania had been the first place outside of your coven where you felt completely authentic, and you never compromised yourself whenever you were around the Tepes family.

But, how would they react? Would they be horrified? Would they be terrified? Would they rat you out to the church and have you executed? Or… would they be understanding? Maybe even a little curious?

You let out a frustrated sigh, and looked down at the scrawl of notes you had taken about these new healing abilities of yours. This was so irritating! If only you could just use your magic while you treated people in Lupu! But of course not! Magic was somehow seen as ‘evil’ and ‘dark’, definitely not something that could benefit humanity as a whole!

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you got up and stretched out your arms and legs, only then realizing just how sore your back was getting; seems as though you had reverted to slouching again in your seat as you sat there pensively.

Maybe you could ask Lisa what she thought of the idea… yeah, that sounds like a fair compromise.

You raced out of your room, practically running down hallways as you sped to the laboratory on the opposite side of the castle. This is where Lisa spent most of her time, and enormous, ancient part of the castle that had once been used by Vlad, back in the day when alchemy was the talk of the town.

When you arrive at the entrance, an intimidating, iron door that had been coated in a pitch black color, you pushed it open and peeked inside.

“Lisa?” you called out, and walked in.

The floor was made of smooth marble tiles, and your footsteps hardly made a sound as you trekked across them in search of Lisa. It was with some amusement, that you noted how Vlad must be a huge fan of statues, since nearly every room you had visited was decorated with at least a handful of them. This time, they were large bronze statues of warriors with long swords and detailed shields, another nod to the Greek motif he seemed very fond of as well.

Rows and rows of tables were scattered throughout the room, each serving their own purpose as concoctions brewed or were left to sit and cure. You weren’t completely sure of everything that was going on, a lot of these instruments still being quite foreign to you. This room also held a fair amount of items Lisa claimed Vlad invented. Although, as you looked upon two large glass tankards that supposedly could create batches and batches of tonics within a mere hour, that claim slowly started to earn a bit more merit.

“Lisa?” you called out again, but still, you earned no response.

This place wasn’t that big… there was no way she wouldn’t be able to hear you. But the further in you walked, the more apparent it became that Lisa was most definitely not here.

That’s odd… you think to yourself, hands on your hips as you tried to picture where it is she could have gone.

The kitchen? But, there was still some time before lunch, it wouldn’t make sense for her to be up there right now. The garden? That might be a possibility. Or what about the medical library?

You sighed, headed out of the laboratory, and closed the door behind you. Where should you try first? You supposed that the medical library would probably be your best bet, and so you began to make your way there.

This had turned out to be a much bigger ordeal than you wanted it to be. You just needed some advice, that was all! But now it’s just turned into a wild goose chase, and you’re hoping that Lisa will be in the library so that you could actually make some progress with this!

As you dart down the last hallway, the sudden appearance of Adrian made you all but crash into a wall. Your feet awkwardly stumbled over themselves a few times as you slowed yourself down to a stop, your breath leaving you in short, shallow gasps.

“Where are you off to in such a hurry?”

Your eyes widened slightly as you looked at him, and you had to use all of the self-restraint within you to stop your jaw from hanging open in shock.

The entire time that you had been living in Castlevania, Adrian had kept his hair down, not like you could ever complain. His hair was beautiful, a light blond that shimmered golden in the sunlight, and silver in the moonlight. It complimented his elegant face beautifully, and you’d be damned if you hadn’t thought of running your fingers through his loose curls.

But today… he had tied it all back with a silk black ribbon, and stacked it in a messy bun that left a few strands to frame his face. You knew that you were staring, but you couldn’t help it. He looked so… he looked so--

“What, is there something on my face?”

His voice jolted you back to reality, and his question caused you to burst into a quiet fit of laughter.

“No… no, you just, surprised me is all.” you replied, and you felt yourself become at ease. Your gaze darted from his face to his garb, and your eyebrows furrowed in mild confusion when you realized that he was wearing a black cloak and leather riding gloves.

“Are you going somewhere?”

He appeared slightly taken aback by your question, but he quickly composed himself. “As a matter of fact, I am.”

You gave him a sly grin, as you teased, “You? Going out? Forgive me if I find that hard to believe.”

It did not appear as though he were in the same playful mood, his lips twitching for a moment before he said in a heated tone, “There are quite a few things I find hard to believe,” his voice trails off for a bit, and for a moment, you thought you could see the faintest tinge of hurt in his expression. This is quickly masked over as he looks back up at you, his gaze sending a cold chill down your spine. “But I doubt me wanting some time away from here is one of them.”

You’re frozen to the spot, absolutely baffled at what just happened. It wasn’t… you weren’t serious! It had just been a joke!

Your own eyes narrowed at him, and you scoffed. “Fine, go!” you stepped aside and waved your arms down the hallway. “I certainly won’t stop you.”

He flinched, your scathing tone obviously doing its job as he glides past you without another word.

You felt like you could scream, like you could blast a hole into one of the walls, but… you just took a deep breath, and decided to continue on your quest to find Lisa.

Finally arriving at the medical library, you walked inside and to your surprise, you find Vlad sitting in one of the large armchairs. He had several books stacked on the small desk that stood beside him, a few of them open, even though he was currently flipping through one at the moment!

He did not seem to notice you at first, but as he looked up to attend to a steaming cup of tea, his eyes widened and he made a deep hum acknowledging your presence as he swallowed down his drink.

“Well, well, what a nice surprise,” he mused, a smile on his face. “I hardly expected any visitors today.”

You give him a shy grin in response, and slowly walked over to where he sat. “Actually, I was looking for your wife.”

“Lisa?”

You nodded. “I was hoping to get some advice on something… but I haven’t been able to find her!”

Vlad’s eyebrow raised up in confusion, and he put down his book. “Did she not tell you she left earlier this morning?”

Your mouth gaped open like a fish out of water, but then you frowned, your jaw tight and arms folded across your chest. “No, she did not…”

Vlad easily picked up how this news had absolutely soured your day, and he stood up from his seat to take a firm, yet comforting grip of your shoulder. “Do not take it too personally, little one. Lisa is infamous for leaving suddenly like this, especially during the colder months. She starts to think about one of the older women catching a cold, and then before you even know it, she’s racing out of here on Cinder with a bundle of supplies tied to his back.”

You chuckled at the image, and quickly found the tension in your body slowly seeping away. It was nearly impossible to be upset with Lisa, she was so selfless, and it warmed your heart learning how much she truly cared about the people of Lupu.

“I’d appreciate if she let me know next time, but, she obviously had her reasons.” you said, and let out a deep sigh. “It’s just… I would have really appreciate her intake on this…”

Vlad lead you over to a chair, and gestured for you to sit as he took his spot back in his armchair. “I hope that you understand that you can always come to me if you’re ever in need of someone else’s wisdom.”

You chuckled, and thank Vlad as he offers you a cup of tea. “Hmm… you may be onto something there,” you add some sugar and then take a sip, the warm brew setting your mind and body at ease.

A comfortable silence hangs in the air between the two of you, and you relished in the tranquility, utterly baffled that you had been so stressed out earlier.

You thought of what had transpired earlier between Adrian, and you inwardly cringe when you recall just how vindictive you had sounded. Although, it’s not as if you had been the only one with an attitude. Just what had gotten into him? What exactly did he mean when he said that he wanted to get away from ‘here’? Did he mean here as in, Castlevania? Why would he ever want to do that?

“Is something on your mind, little one?”

Your cheeks are tinged a light red, embarrassed that you had been so obvious. But, you tuck those specific thoughts back into some recess of your mind, instead focusing on the questions that had started this whole search in the first place.

“Do you…” you stopped, and your lips upturned into a grimace. “No, this is so stupid, I don’t know why I would ever think of such a thing--”

“I sincerely doubt that. Please, tell me,” he gave you a genuine smile and leaned forward a bit. “I have been alive for a very long time, young one. Nothing surprises me anymore.”

It was certainly a strange way to try and boost your confidence, but it definitely worked. Perhaps Vlad had been the one you were supposed to talk to after all, especially considering the fact that he was allegedly very skilled in the magical arts.

You ease yourself into the comfy armchair, fingers absentmindedly tracing around the golden rim of the teacup clasped tightly in your hands. “Well… let’s see… have you… have you ever been very public in showing off your magical abilities?”

Vlad’s eyes widened slightly, your question clearly catching even him off guard. “Are you asking me if I’ve ever performed my magic around humans?”

The tips of your ears turn a bright red, and your eyes shy away from his gaze. “It’s probably so silly,” you replied. “But… I was wanting to become more transparent with the villagers, to try and use my magic to do some real good. It’s probably just a pipe dream…”

“Now, there’s no need to say such things,” he said, and gave you a kind smile. “It’s honorable that you would think to put yourself at risk in order to help people. However,” his voice trails off, the frown on his face only cementing your previous claim at the ridiculousness of this idea.

“These are dangerous times for people like us, those skilled in the magical arts. Over the years, I’ve limited myself in how often I use magic to prevent any unwanted attention, especially now that I have a family.”

That you could definitely understand, and you suddenly felt so selfish at the idea of causing any of them harm by revealing your identity as a witch. But…

“I just… I just hate this nagging feeling,” you begin, voice a little hoarse. “I hate this idea that I can never be my true self around them because of what I am.” you sip on your tea to calm your jittering nerves, and took a deep breath. “It’s stifling.”

Vlad nodded his head in agreement. “Yes… it can be very frustrating having to deny so much in order to keep yourself out of harm’s way. You’ve heard of the nomadic tribe known as Speakers, yes?”

“Adrian mentioned them a few times during some of our lessons, but I must admit that I am quite unfamiliar with their teachings.”

Vlad waved his hand in the air, and a large red book flew off one of the shelves. Propelled by his magic, it spun around a few times before it gracefully landed on your lap, throwing itself open and flipping through hundreds of pages before stopping on a section with beautifully detailed drawings of people in long blue robes.

“I’ll be the first to admit that the Speakers were not too fond of me when they first found out who I was,” he chuckled, and stroked the end of his beard thoughtfully. “Especially when my skills in the dark arts started to make a name for themselves. So, when they found out that there was some murderous, dark, brooding vampire causing trouble up in the Wallachian mountains, they decided to find out for themselves if all the rumors were true.”

“‘Dark, brooding, murderous vampire’?” you echoed, amusement laced in your voice.

“You poke fun of me now, but…” he was silent for a moment, his grin faltering slightly. “I am not proud of the man I was before I met Lisa. The Speakers, in fact, were the first to suggest that I share my knowledge with the world. They were progressive, and the fact that they had been able to travel throughout Europe on tales of their good deeds alone was very impressive. But I was no fool. Even if I hardly left the confines of my castle, I knew that the world was changing and that sooner or later, their reputation was going to be what did them in.”

Your heart begins to race as you look down at the peaceful images of men and women using magic on the sick and injured, a foreboding feeling beginning to take hold of you as Vlad said this.

“Did…” you sense your throat starting to close up and you take another sip of tea. “Were they all… did--”

“Oh no,” Vlad reassures. “The Speakers still exist even today, but… I would be lying if I said that they had been spared the church’s wrath of persecution. Lisa tells me that nearby towns, notably Gresit, has been especially hostile towards the Speakers, claiming that they bring ill luck and evil alongside them.”

“I’d say that’s preposterous, but that seems to be the state of the country towards anyone that harbors magical abilities,” you hissed.

“Which is why I must warn you… to be cautious about who it is you reveal your secrets to. So long as the church remains in power, there is little that we can do to change public opinion.” Vlad placed his empty cup on the table in front of you, and folded his hands comfortably into his lap. “I’m sorry if this was not the answer you were looking for, little one.”

You nodded, having understood everything that he said, but you were still a little disappointed. “It’s so unfair… keeping all of this locked away. If only the church wasn’t so damn paranoid.”

Vlad laughed, a deep hearty sound that made goosebumps erupt on your arms. “That would certainly help put my mind more at ease. It worries me sometimes… that a passing stranger might one day mistake my Lisa as something far more sinister than a doctor.”

“I wouldn’t worry,” you said. “Everyone in the village loves her, I’m sure if there was ever any ill rumors floating around, that they would put a stop to it right quick.”

He let out a sigh, and nodded his head in agreement. “I suppose you are right. It’s been difficult to regain my trust in humanity, having seen so much tragedy and unnecessary bloodshed,” his gaze softens as he looks at you. “But, Lisa has changed me. She’s even suggested that I walk the Earth as a man, and nothing more.”

You blinked, and then said with a smirk on your face, “Vlad… you are a man though.”

He chuckled, and playfully ruffled your hair. “She meant that I should travel the country as men do, slowly, peacefully, making sure to take everything in.”

This concept was completely lost on you. What did he mean that he had never traveled before? How did he get here then? Had he never been on horseback? Never trekked across a steep mountain range?

“Well, how did you travel before?”

“When I was a young man, horses were the most common form of transportation. Although it’s been quite awhile since I’ve journeyed far on one. Let’s see,” he tapped his chin with his finger thoughtfully. “Oh, when I was getting the hang of my magic, I’d disguise myself as a bat and fly to nearby villages during the night.”

“A bat?” you blurted out in surprise. “That’s a bit cliche, don’t you think?”

“Where do you think the rumor of vampires turning into bats came from?” he retorted, which left you in stunned silence.

“You’re not serious… are you?”

“To be fair,” he began. “I’m not the only one in my family that can turn into an animal. My sister Stefana, can turn into a fox, which her partners find very impressive. She likes to put on a show, my sister, but she’s remained genuine for as long as we’ve both been alive so it seems fitting that’s the animal she chose.”

A sudden thought popped into your head, and before Vlad could continue going down his extensive family list, you asked, “Can Adrian turn into anything?”

Vlad paused, and then smiled as he nodded his head. “Of course, being my son, it makes sense that the magical arts come naturally to him, including transfiguration.”

“Do you have any examples?”

“Certainly. When he was around… oh, I’d say maybe ten years old, he turned into a bat. Gave his poor mother quite the shock when she couldn’t find him in his room, and she came to me, utterly hysterical, saying that he must’ve wandered off into some forbidden part of the castle. We were about to go searching for him, when a tiny white bat flew down from the ceiling and crash landed onto his bed.” he chuckled at the memory. “I was very proud, not having even the slightest inclination that he was remotely ready to perform such strong magic, but Lisa was far from relieved and Adrian received quite the scolding.”

“How cute,” you said, lips upturned into a delightful grin. “Can he still turn into a bat?”

“Oh yes, but I have not seen him do it in awhile. Recently, he’s been able to turn himself into mist.”

“Mist?” you asked skeptically. “How would that help?”

“It’s very useful, actually, being able to sneak around the castle or even outside with no one noticing. Although, that spell is more physically demanding than the others, so I’ve warned him to not abuse it too much.”

“Interesting…”

“And I understand that he’s managed to grasp turning himself into a wolf.”

Your heart stopped, the grip on your teacup going so slack that it almost slipped out of your fingers and smashed onto the hardwood floor. Did Vlad just say… that Adrian could turn into a wolf?

“Is something the matter?”

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and you shrunk under his gaze, shakily placing your cup on its saucer. It was difficult to hide how frazzled this news had made you, but you just had to know, just needed some confirmation of the question that burned at the tip of your tongue.

“What kind of wolf can Adrian turn into?”

Vlad’s eyes lingered with unspoken concern, worried about this sudden shift in your demeanor, but still he replied, “A white one, but it has yet to be perfected. His eyes still remain bright gold, even in the form of a beast.”

“I see…” your heart felt as though it had leapt into your throat, and your mind flashed with images from your dream. This… this was impossible, right? Your grandmother had warned you time and time again that dreams were absolute bollocks, right? There was no way your subconscious was actually trying to get you to admit something you’d been stubbornly avoiding, right?

Your teeth dug into the flesh of your bottom lip, and you stood up from your seat, placing the book on Speakers onto one of the many books in Vlad’s pile. When had it become so suffocating in here? You needed to get out, you needed to take your mind off of this… development.

“Little one, did something I say upset you?” Vlad’s tall form towered over you, his face crinkled from anxiety. “If I did, I sincerely apologize--”

You cut him off with a firm no, and gently place a hand on his arm. “You did nothing to upset me, I promise. I just… I believe I need some time to… think things over. I think I should head to Lupu, perhaps seeing Lisa and the townsfolk will help put me at ease.”

Vlad nodded, visible relief washing over him as you said this. “I understand. I’m sure Lisa will be happy to see you as well,” he placed his large hand on the top of your head and delicately stroked your hair. “Have a safe journey, little one. I will be expecting your return later tonight.”

You gave him a genuine smile, and thanked him for his time and guidance, before you walked out of the library and closed the door with a quiet click.

_________________

The feeling of the sun on your chilled skin and the cool autumn breeze dancing around you and Clara is exactly what you needed. You languidly stretch your arms behind your head and let out a soft sight, trying to get rid of all the tension that had seeped its way back into your muscles.

Bits and pieces of the conversation that you had with Vlad replayed in your mind, with the particular discovery of Adrian being able to transform himself into a wolf sticking out like a sore thumb. You had no time for such things… for such… foolish, almost childish notions.

Although, was it truly childish to feel certain things towards someone? Was it foolish to believe that maybe he even returned these feelings?

You shake your head, and absentmindedly begin to stroke Clara’s mane. Why would he ever return your feelings? What even were your feelings? It had all seemed so clear that night in the garden with the fairies, but the more you thought about it, the more convoluted it all became.

But there were things that you could not just chalk up to chance. The way that he looked at you during your lessons, the smile that erupted on his face whenever you got the hang of a new combat maneuver, the pink you had seen in his aura that night…

That night you were certain that he would have kissed you.

Ridiculous, you thought. Why would anyone fall in love with you? You had no money to your name, no property, and you were a danger to everyone around you should the wrong people find out about your true identity.

No… it simply made more sense to be alone, to instead focus on what you could do in the here and now, than in silly little fantasies that lived inside your dreams.

There was a bitterness in this resolution, but you did not care. It just made the most sense. After all, what sort of fool would fall in love with a witch?

The rest of the ride to Lupu went by in silence, with you admiring the wildlife and the trees to distract from the nagging feeling left behind by your earlier conclusions. Much to your surprise, it appeared as though the clinic was fairly busy, with a couple patients waiting patiently around the large apple tree that stood nearby.

After you dismounted Clara, you untied the provisions off of her back and removed her saddle and bit so that she could join Cinder in his current foraging of fallen apples and berries.

People waved and said their hello’s when they noticed you, and you happily exchanged greetings with all of them as you walked inside.

There were quite a few old folks sitting around the table, steaming cups of tea in their hands as they talked amongst one another, having a rather heated discussion on whether or not to make a batch of mucenici or papanaşi for the feast that was happening tonight.

You gave them a shy wave, the group acknowledging you with swift nods before they got back to their important conversation. You noticed that several mothers were waiting with their newborns, some of the babies sleeping soundly in their arms, while others giggled and cooed as they played with some toys or sloppily chewed on the ends of a blanket.

Although you were lacking in experience taking care of babies, you still stopped by to see what it is they each came in for, and thankfully, they all explained that they were here for their monthly checkup. The women happily toted that they had yet to suffer through a night of endless crying, from anything from an ear infection to a nasty cold.

Everyone seemed to be in such good spirits, and it made you smile, knowing that the hard work Lisa and you both did was not going under appreciated.

Speaking of Lisa, your eyes scanned the room but found no trace of her. Could she perhaps be in the back? Or maybe she had traveled to the village for a one-on-one consultation--?

“Ow! Watch it with that stuff!”

Everyone in the room simultaneously turned their attention to the door that held the laboratory, a couple of the older folks chuckling softly at the sudden outburst.

You frowned, and walked over to the door, pulling it open to reveal a very irritated Lorena and her younger sister Marian.

Marian was currently talking her sisters ear off, scolding her for what you supposed is what brought her here in the first place.

“Why don’t you ever listen to mother? She tells you all the time that you have to stop picking fights with people!”

Lorena glared at her sister, her brown eyes narrowed as her face scrunched up into a grimace. “What was I supposed to do? Just let those men behave like absolute animals?” she spat at her sister’s feet. “You’re such a coward, Marian. I couldn’t just sit back and let them treat her like that!”

Marian huffed, and threw her arms up into the air in exasperation. “Here we go again! Why do you always have to be the hero, Lorena? What if you had gotten seriously hurt?”

“It’s all worth it when I think about what could have happened had I not been there.” her voice comes out in a low hiss, but then she yelps when Lisa applies more alcohol to her wounds, deep gashes that had been slashed into her right arm.

“What happened?”

Your question seemed to finally alert the three of them of your presence, and they all simultaneously flipped their heads around to stare at you.

Lisa’s gaze softened, and her lips curled into a smile. “It’s so nice to see you, my dear. I’m terribly sorry that I left without saying anything, I just--”

“It’s okay,” you said, and sat down beside her. “When Vlad told me where you had gone off to, I knew you were only wanting to make sure everyone was doing alright.”

“And it’s a good thing I did,” she replied. “Lorena here got herself involved in quite a nasty fight.”

“Yes, I can see that,” you frowned, and gently take a hold of Lorena’s arm to more closely inspect her injuries. You shove your hand into the pocket of your cloak and procured the magnifying glass Marius had gifted you, using it to get a closer look. The cuts were clean, deep, and serrated, and as you handed her arm back to Lisa, you could surmise that they had been made from a sharp blade.

“Who did this to you?”

Lorena sighed, and cringed slightly as Lisa began to coat her arm in an ointment before wrapping it up. “I was walking through the woods in search of mushrooms and common game, hoping to help my mother a bit in finding everything we needed to make dinner. I had gone pretty deep, but I know these woods like the back of my hand, and I had been pretty excited after coming across a good stash of chanterelles and morels. I was just minding my business, when I started to hear a scuffle nearby. It sounded pretty rowdy, so naturally, I was a little curious. When I headed over to investigate, I found these two men surrounding this poor girl!”

Her nostrils flared in anger as she sat there, recalling the memory. “I dunno what they wanted with her, but they seemed pretty angry. I heard something about her people bringing “ill luck to their lands”, or something like that. It all sounded like hogwash, and she knew it too. She was feisty, I’ll give her that, she didn’t seem intimidated in the slightest. It wasn’t until I noticed the glimmer of a knife that I decided to step in. She was pretty good at fighting too, I don’t think I would have been able to take the two of them out without her help. But,” she chuckled, and looked over at her arm. “One of those bastards got me pretty good. He basically held me hostage after we knocked out his other buddy, and slit my arm a few times to try and convey how serious he was. I wasn’t scared though. I head-butted his face as hard as I could, which gave me a pretty nasty headache, but I’m pretty sure I broke his nose.”

“Was the girl alright?” you asked.

Lorena nodded her head, and flexed her arm a couple times to get a feel of the bandages. “Yeah, she was fine. Actually, she was very grateful for what I had done, saying that not many people would have risked their lives to help someone like her. Which I thought was strange.”

“Why was she surprised that you helped her?” Lisa wondered, and gathered up the dirty rags, tossing them into a boiling pot of water while she let her medical instruments soak in alcohol to be sterilized.

Lorena shrugged her shoulders. “I’m not sure… after that, she said that she needed to get back to her grandfather and vanished into the woods. Although, she was wearing a pretty strange set of robes.”

“Robes?” you repeated.

“Yeah, they were long and blue. With the hood up, I’m sure she could have easily been mistaken for a man.”

You looked over at Lisa, who’s eyes were now locked onto Lorena, and you guessed that she had the same idea you did.

“Lorena,” Lisa began, and walked back over to where she sat. “Are you telling me that you saved a Speaker?”

She blinked, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “What’s a Speaker?”

“Seriously?” Marian gasped, her hands on her hips. “I knew you weren’t paying attention! We read all about them in that book we borrowed from Crina. They’re that tribe of magicians! The ones that come and help people!”

You were impressed that Marian knew who the Speakers were, and you were even more impressed that Lisa’s mother appeared to know about them as well.

“Well, if she lives in a group, why was she by herself?” Lorena wondered. “That doesn’t seem like a smart thing to do, letting a girl with magical powers walk around all by herself. It’s no wonder she got herself into some trouble!”

“It’s a good thing you were there to help her,” Lisa said, eyes crinkled as she smiled down at Lorena. “Us girls need to look out for each other.”

“Exactly!” Lorena exclaimed, and jumped up onto her feet. “That’s what I’ve been trying to say to you!” she pointed an accusatory finger at her younger sister. “Why can’t you get it?”

Marian bristled, and she looked ready to pounce on her sister and give her her own set of bruises, but Lisa placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

“But you should also be more careful next time, Lorena. Those men were dangerous, and you know you only managed to get out of there from sheer luck.”

Lorena’s face softened, her gaze shifting to the side as she bit her bottom her lip. “I guess you’re right, Lisa… Maybe I should have tried using my bow instead of my fists, huh?” she gave a crooked smile, one that made Lisa chuckle, and ruffle the top of her head.

“I suppose that’s a… fair compromise. Now, run along now, I’m sure your mother must be worried sick for the both of you,” she said, and lead the two of them out of her laboratory.

Lisa sighed, and closed the door behind her, her lips pressed into a thin line. “That was an awfully frightful thing to hear,” she said, and folded her arms to her chest. “I cannot believe that the Speakers are still treated so cruelly by people.”

“Have you ever met them before?”

She nodded her head. “Oh yes. When I first met my husband, they frequented the castle almost every month. A majority of the time, they came to speak to Vlad about magic or nearby towns. It was actually with their help that I managed to persuade him to visit these places on foot alongside the Speakers, since he had never gone on a journey like that before.”

“Yes,” you said, as you recalled what Vlad had said earlier. “He said it had been quite awhile since he had walked the Earth like “men do”. I hadn’t really understood what he meant, if I’m perfectly honest.”

Lisa chuckled, and opened a cabinet that contained stacks of parchment, placing it on a counter and flipping through the pile. “My husband isn’t too fond of traveling, but we all thought it might do him some good to see who it is I’d be helping with his knowledge. I think it was a nice change of perspective, and I’d love for him to take another trip like that soon.”

“You should tell him this!” you insisted. “If you reminded him how much good his first trip did, I doubt that he’d say no to you suggesting that he go on another one. Especially now that Adrian isn’t a child anymore, and you have me to help with the clinic.”

Lisa was silent for a moment, and she hummed thoughtfully to herself as she picked out three separate pages of parchment, setting them aside for now. “You make an awfully compelling argument, little one. Perhaps I will bring up the idea to him? The worst he can say is no.”

She opened another cabinet and took out a jar from the top shelf, before she walked over and handed it to you. “I’m about to be pretty swamped with a couple baby checkups, would you mind heading over to Marius’s place and delivering this? It’s a modified version of the usual burn ointment I make him. I’ve added green tea leaves to help keep his skin from drying out from the cold weather.”

“Very nice,” you commented, and tucked it inside of your pocket. “Is there anything else that you’d like me to do while I’m in town?”

She shook her head no. “Nothing comes to mind. But feel free to look around for anything that you might need.”

You nodded, and with a wave, you exited the clinic and trekked down the dusty path that lead into the village. It was as bustling as ever, stands filled with fruits and vegetables from the last big harvest, large bonfires crackling in the wind, their heavy smokey scent mingling with that of fresh stews and roasted meats.

Leaves crunched underneath your feet as you neared Marius and Diana’s home, the distinct sound of metal being pounded into shape ringing in your ears. As you approached the entryway that leads into their workshop, a cloud of steam billowed out from the slightly ajar door and you rubbed your eyes with the back of your hands.

“Hello?” you called out. “Diana? Marius? Anyone home?”

The rhythmic clanging suddenly stopped and the sound of heavy footsteps approaching made you stop. You ruffled your cloak a bit, which caused the steam to dissipate as you met them halfway and found Marius, face beaded with sweat and apron covered in an assortment of stains.

“What a lovely surprise,” his voice is gruff, but the smile he gives you warms you down to the tips of your toes. “I did not expect a visit from you, lass.”

“Sorry to come here unannounced, I just needed to give you this,” you took the jar out of your pocket and handed it to Marius. “It’s the new and improved version of the aloe we’ve been giving to treat your burns. Lisa said that she added some green tea leaves to help alleviate any patches of dry skin.”

He happily takes it from your hands, his expression shining with gratitude. “That was awfully thoughtful of her, I appreciate the extra lengths she goes to for us. It can be very refreshing.”

“Refreshing?”

Marius grunts, and drags himself over to a chair. “It’s not often that you come across someone as selfless as her in your lifetime. I’m forever grateful that she decided to dedicate her life to helping others. It’s what she was meant to do,” he popped open the jar and began to generously apply some of the ointment onto his arms and hands. “As were you,” he adds. “I think it was fate that you two were destined to meet.”

A flush coats your cheeks, and you give Marius a small smile. “You’ve all been so kind and welcoming to me… I don’t think I could ever thank you enough. Lupu almost feels like a second home to me now.”

“I’m glad,” he said, just as his eyes suddenly went wide as the front door burst open.

In came Diana, her curly red hair tucked away from her face with a cute little headscarf, her attention currently preoccupied on the baskets of produce that she was hauling inside.

Marius got up from where he sat and greeted his wife, kissing her gingerly on the forehead as he helped put the produce safely onto the kitchen table.

“Love, look who came for a visit,” Marius said, and nudged his head in your direction.

Diana turned around and gasped, before she let out an elated sound as she ran over and gave you a tight hug. “Oh it’s so good to see you!”

You grinned, and hugged her back. “It’s good to see you too, Diana. It appears as though you had an eventful day at the market,” you look over at the wide array of food that she had brought home, and make a mental note to look for where they were selling pumpkins.

“Everything was so cheap! You know I can’t say no to a good bargain,” she gave you a cheeky smile and a wink, before she pulled out a chair and sat down beside her husband. “So, to what do we owe this pleasure?”

“Oh, I was just dropping off some new burn medicine for Marius, but… I suppose I could stay here for a bit. There was no one else in the clinic besides some new mothers, and I have a feeling that they’re going to keep Lisa preoccupied for a bit.”

Diana laughed, and fervently nodded her head in agreement. “Aye, I got a glimpse of who it was heading up there today, and if I’m right on who I think it is, they’re all first-time mother’s. They’ll probably want a full examination and then some. But anyways, what have you been up to?”

You noticed that Marius had begun sorting away all of the food Diana bought, while he let a kettle come to a boil over the fire. The fresh scent of apples lingered in the air as he chopped them up, your curiosity piqued as to what it is he might be making.

Your attention flits back to Diana, and you sighed. “Besides studying and working at the clinic? Nothing too exciting.”

“Really?” she frowns, and almost appears as though she is pouting in her seat. “Surely I thought something must be going on, what with Adrian showing up here this afternoon.”

“Huh?” you blurt out. “Adrian was here? In Lupu?”

Diana nodded her head. “I saw him while I was heading to the market. At least, I’m pretty sure it was him. I doubt there’s an abundance of tall, handsome blond men running around Wallachia.” she teased, her tongue poking out between her teeth. “Especially one that owns such a stunning steed.”

You were silent, eyes downcast and eyebrows furrowed together in disbelief. Adrian had come here? But why?

You thought back to when you last saw him, wearing his big black cloak and leather riding gloves. Is this where he had been heading before the two of you had gotten in your little argument?

Diana makes a strange sound in the back of her throat, one that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up when you finally meet her gaze. “You didn’t know that he was coming here?” there’s a tone to her voice that you cannot decipher, and you nervously swallow a dry lump in your throat.

“No… I… well, it’s true that I may have run into him earlier today and noticed that he was wearing his riding gear but…” your own voice trails off, a heavy weight pressing down on your chest as you thought back to the… conversation the two of you had shared that morning.

Diana’s face softens, and she placed a comforting hand on top of your own. “You seem troubled, sweetheart. Did something happen?”

You let out a long, irritated sigh. “You could say that…”

“Well, you can tell me about it,” Diana said gently. “It can sometimes help--talking about things that are bothering you.”

You feel yourself clam up again, as you pondered whether or not to reveal what had transpired between the two of you. Maybe… maybe she was right, maybe getting someone else’s perspective on the matter would help you make sense of it… especially on his feelings of needing to escape the castle.

Before you could say anything, Marius reappears with some honeyed apples and a batch of fresh lavender tea. The sweet treat smelled heavenly, and it tasted just as good. The honey was sticky and delicious, and mingled wonderfully with the rich lavender tea; it was just the sort of thing you needed to help set your mind and body at ease.

You cleared your throat and dabbed your mouth with a napkin, your own subtle way of letting Diana know that you were ready to speak.

“Adrian and I had a… well, I’m not even sure I could call it a conversation. It started off harmless enough, I had made a joke saying I was surprised to see he was leaving the castle when I noticed what he was wearing. But, then he got so hostile…”

“Hostile?” Diana asked. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“I know,” you replied. “I did not think that he would take my words so seriously… he told me that I shouldn’t be surprised that he would want some time away from home. But,” you scoffed, and swirled the tea in your cup. “I don’t know why he got so upset.”

“Hmm…” Diana leaned back in her chair, head craned up slightly in pensive thought. “Did something happen between the two of you recently?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she folded her hands together and rested them on the table. “Seems to me that you were the one he was trying to avoid.”

“Me?” you gave a wry chuckle. “That’s reassuring.”

“Now, listen here,” Diana said, a stern look on her face. “Something must have happened between the two of you, something that made him feel hurt and upset. Otherwise, there’d be no need for him to be so hostile towards you. Think. There’s got to be something.”

“I’m telling you,” you snapped. “Nothing has happened between us! We’re just friends!”

“Are you sure?” Diana countered.

“What?”

“Are you sure? That you’re just friends, I mean.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course I’m sure. We’re not secret lovers, if that’s what you’re implying.”

Diana rubbed her face, and then let out a loud cry, “You’re absolutely hopeless! How can I help you if you aren’t going to be truthful with me?”

Your face heated up a bit when she said this, and you stuttered over your words, “I… I am telling the truth!” you tried to say your words with conviction, but there was no bite to your voice, your emotions betraying you when Diana picked up on the very slight waver in your response.

“Oh really?” she sneered at you, like a cat that had just stumbled upon its prey. “What are you hiding, hmm?”

You fidgeted in your seat, and you tried your absolute best to avoid making any sort of eye contact with her. Should… should you tell her about what happened at the colosseum? You weren’t reading too much into things, right?

Diana all of a sudden let out a gasp, and her green eyes sparkled with excitement in the low light of the fire. “Don’t tell me…” she said, and lowered her voice slightly, as if trying to conceal a secret amongst the three of you--even though you were the only three in the house.

“You have a crush on Lisa’s boy.”

Your mouth hung open in shock, and you were absolutely mortified. How on Earth…? How was she able to deduce such a thing?

She let out a high pitched squeal, and wiggled excitedly in her seat. “Oh, I’m right aren’t I? You have a crush on the little Tepes boy.”

“I…” your voice was strained, the bright red blush on your face making it hard to conceal that she had practically hit the nail on the head. “I…” you tried again, but you struggled to form the right words so you just let out a frustrated sigh.

“Hey,” Diana said, all of the teasing out of her voice. “It’s alright love, there’s nothing to be ashamed of!”

You let out another hollow sigh, your fingers beginning to pick at the fraying strands of fabric from your napkin. “But then why do I feel so ashamed?”

Her expression softened, a hint of sadness finding its way into her gentle gaze. “Why would you feel ashamed, sweetheart?”

“I… I don’t know. I’ve just never thought that love was in the cards for me, that I’d rather focus on my career as a healer instead of worrying about such a thing.” you gave her a sad smile, and rested your elbows on the table as you leaned forward. “Plus… it would just be too… dangerous for me to have a romantic partner.”

“Dangerous? What do you mean?” Marius asked.

“Well…” your voice tapered off as you thought this over. You knew why it was a bad idea for someone to be involved with you romantically, but you hardly thought it prudent to tell either one of them that you were a witch. After the story Lorena had told, it suddenly made more sense as to why Vlad had refrained from using magic too often.

It’s not like they could relate to your personal fears either, it’s not everyday that someone can say that they’ve been hunted down by the church.

So, as much as it pained you to do, you decided to keep quiet. It was the smart thing to do.

“It’s… complicated.” you finally replied. “I just… this isn’t something I want to have to worry about!”

“Why are you spending your time worrying about having a crush? It’s normal! It happens to everyone!” Diana exclaimed. “To me, the more time you spend trying to convince yourself that you don’t like him, just proves that you actually do!”

“That’s absolutely ridiculous!” you countered, ears tinged red from embarrassment. “I’m… I’m trying to be logical about this.”

“That’s the problem! You can’t be logical towards your feelings, that’s not how it works!” Diana took a big gulp of tea, and then pointed a finger at you. “Something big must have happened to make you feel so… confused . What was it? Are you gonna come out with it then?”

“I…” you grit your teeth, and let out a loud groan. “I think…” you sighed, and slowly lowered your head so that it could rest on your forearms. “I think Adrian tried to kiss me the other night.”

Diana leapt out of her chair, the seat falling onto the floor with a loud thud .

“What?” she nearly hollered.

Your hands card through your hair, and you throw your head back to avoid looking at either of them. “I’m not sure, but!” you slowly eased back forward, eyes peeking out from behind your fingers. “I think he meant to kiss me that night and I… and I just… I couldn’t do it.”

Diana’s demeanor seemed to calm instantly, and she moved to sit beside you, a hand going to rest on your shoulder. “It seems to me as though you’re having quite the struggle at opening up your heart.”

You chuckled, and leaned in closer to her embrace. “You’re not the first person to tell me that. It’s just… difficult, for me to make sense of my feelings at the moment. I do care about Adrian, I care about him very deeply, but… I still need some time.”

“And that’s perfectly fine, lass.” Marius said. “Love isn’t a simple matter. It’s not something that can be left to the whimsical definitions of poets and romantics; it’s heavy, it’s messy.” he took a hold of your hand in his, which seemed so small compared to his much larger stature.

“Take all of the time you need to come to terms with your feelings. Rushing into things is what often leads to horrible mistakes, both on the battlefield and in relationships.” he gave his wife a coy smile, and then relinquished the grip he had on your hand to give you an endearing pat on the head.

“My husband is right,” Diana agreed. “You shouldn’t feel pressured, love. Although, it does sound to me that he was quite hurt at this rejection. Perhaps he’s unaware of your feelings?”

“That makes sense,” you said. “But… as I’ve said, I’m not even one-hundred percent sure about my own feelings. It… it just seems unfair for me to promise something to him and then not be able to deliver. But…” you went quiet, a frown on your face. “The least I could do is apologize for what I said today. I had been incredibly rude…”

“I’m sure that he would greatly appreciate that,” Diana replied. “I’m sure that he must be home by now, he didn’t stay long in the village after-all.”

At this, your interest is once again peaked. He hadn’t been long? Surely, you thought that he would have at least visited his mother. Why make the unnecessary trip of coming all the way here?

“Did you see where it is he went?”

Diana cocked her head to the side, and hummed quietly to herself. “I think I saw him head to the eastern part of the village,” she turned to face her husband. “What’s over there again darling?”

Marius scratched the stubble of his beard in deep thought. “Well, I ken that’s where Valeria and Tomas live, and Cordelia and her children as well. Oh… and the jeweler is over there as well.”

“The jeweler?” Diana cooed. “Now what could he be doing over there? You don’t think it has anything to do with their upcoming celebration?”

“What upcoming celebration?”

Diana gaped at you as though you had grown a second head. “You don’t know about the big party?”

You shake your head.

“The one that’s being hosted in honor of Lisa and Vlad’s twentieth anniversary?”

“Their anniversary is coming up?” you yelled out in surprise. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

“It isn’t happening for another two months,” Marius said, and lightly shoved Diana to snap her out of her shocked stupor. “So they probably saw it fit to tell you a little closer to the date.”

“But it’s their twentieth anniversary,” you said, still shocked at the idea of attending a party in celebration of Lisa and Vlad. “That’s a pretty big milestone.”

“Yes, and Lisa’s been telling me that family from all over are going to attend! Oh, I’m sure that night is going to be absolutely magical.” Diana sighed wistfully, and rested her head on Marius’s chest.

“Their family, huh?” you thought of the enormous, intimidating portraits that lined the hallways of Castlevania, and swallowed nervously. If there was one thing that could set your nerves on edge, it was a castle full of vampires.

“Oh, there’s something I almost forgot,” Marius said, and he hobbled over to a box that lay hidden underneath a couple of embroidery patches. He placed it gently on the table before you and pulled it open, revealing a set of matching locket’s. The craftsmanship was exquisite, the pieces decorated with tiny flowers forged of the most delicate silver, accented by the light of a beautiful gemstone that rested in the center.

You let out a quiet gasp, and gently stroked one of them with the pad of your finger. “They’re beautiful… did you… did you make them, Marius?”

He smiled sheepishly, and rubbed the back of his neck. “Aye. I thought it would be a nice gesture, a way to try and repay Lisa and her family for all that they’ve done for us. I know it’s not nearly even close to what it is they deserve, but--”

“Nonsense,” you quipped, and gave him a bright grin. “They’re going to love them.”

Your eyes lingered on the lockets once more, but then you raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “Why are you handing these to me now? Why not give it to Vlad and Lisa personally?”

“Ah, well,” Marius chuckled. “Lisa and her family travel during the holidays, not that I really blame them getting out of here before such dreadfully cold days. I believe they usually head south, to stay with some relatives.”

“So… that means I would probably go with them too then, huh?”

“‘Suppose so,” Diana replied. “But don’t you worry your head off about us darling. Consider it a vacation, they’re only really gone a few weeks.”

At this, you let out a small sigh of relief. You thought it almost reckless to leave the village up to the whims of a harsh winter whilst you relaxed in some luxurious castle in the south-side. Still… you wondered where it is they headed off to, and you hoped that these relatives of theirs would be alright with you tagging along.

But that was something to worry about for another time.

You tentatively reached to put the box containing the lockets into your pocket, halting yourself for a brief moment just to double-check that Marius really wanted you to take them.

He let out a hearty laugh, and with a fervent nod, you carefully placed the little treasures into the confines of your cloak.

“I promise to keep them hidden until Lisa and Vlad’s special day,” you said, and got up from you seat. “I believe it’s about time that I head back to the clinic, I’m sure that Lisa could use some help by now.”

The couple smiled at you, and Diana got up from her seat to give you another tight hug.

“It was so wonderful to see you again, sweetheart. I hope that our little talk didn’t end up making things more confusing for you.”

You shake your head, and gave her a genuine smile. “No, I think it actually helped me out a lot. You were right, Diana, when you said that talking about all of this would make me feel better.”

She grinned, and bopped the tip of your nose with her finger. “Never underestimate the power of a good conversation, lassy.”

You gave both her and Marius one last hug before you departed from their home and made your way back to the clinic, mind feeling a lot less clouded and heart feeling a lot less heavy.

_________________

The remainder of your day spent at the clinic went by without much fuss, with Lisa actually leaving you to handle the rest of the patients that came in while she cleaned up in the back. You had been a little nervous, but she knew that you could handle it.

As you said farewell to the last patient of the day, a farmer named Mihal who had nicked himself pretty badly after shearing his sheep, you let your thoughts wander back to the time you spent with Marius and Diana.

You hoped that Adrian would be willing to see you, much less speak with you. It was difficult to dwell on just how… callous you had been that morning. It was so unlike you.

But, you thought. It’s not like he handled the situation any better.

However, you had to cut him some slack. If Diana’s presumptions held true, it only made sense that he lashed out at you, who seemed completely apathetic to the fact that there may be something more than just friendship between the two of you.

You let out a long, exhausted sigh and turned your attention over to putting away the books and notes that you’d brought along with you. You could focus on all of your confusing… feelings when you got back to Castlevania.

Making your way outside, you called out for Clara, and after a few seconds, she emerged from behind some trees on the outskirts of the large forest that stood on either side of the small village. She whinnied and trotted over to you, as she nuzzled her snout against your cheek. You gave her an affectionate pat on the head and started to get her ready for the journey back home, a little surprised when you spotted Cinder coming out of the woods only a minute or so after.

As you tugged on the straps of Clara’s saddle to make sure that everything was secure, Lisa made her way out of the clinic and locked the door behind her. Her delightful laughter rang out through the crisp twilight air as Cinder playfully nibbled on some of her hair, and she gave him a few affectionate kisses on his head before she too began getting him ready for the ride back.

The two of you silently worked on preparing your horses, and when everything was neatly packed away, you gave a quiet click of the tongue and were on your way.

Although you both had decided to make quicker haste to avoid the cold night air, that did not mean you could not have some pleasant conversations.

“Did you enjoy your time with Marius and Diana?” Lisa asked.

You suppressed the urge to look away from her when she asked this, especially considering what you three had talked about. But, you supposed this would be a fine opportunity to learn more about this anniversary party Diana had mentioned.

“Yes, Marius was very grateful for the ointment, and while I was there, I found out an interesting little tidbit of information,” you cocked your head towards Lisa and give her a devious smile.

“Oh?”

“Diana might have let slip about a certain… party, that’s coming up.”

Lisa’s eyes widened a bit, and she gave a sheepish smile as a blush decorated her cheeks. “Oh, yes… that party. I’ve been meaning to tell you about it, but I thought it more prudent to let you know when it grew closer to the actual event.”

You nodded you head. “Yeah, that’s what Marius said. I’ll admit, the thought of being in a castle full of vampires does make me a little nervous.”

She laughed. “Trust me, my dear, if you can handle living with my husband and Adrian for as long as you have, this party will be a cakewalk.”

You laughed as well, and then hummed quietly to yourself. “I mean, on the bright side, even if I turn into a nervous wreck, it’ll be a good chance to meet some of the relatives you’ve told me about.”

“Yes, that’s true,” Lisa replied. “But we’re not just inviting relatives, close family friends are coming as well. We sent out the invitations several months ago, and almost everyone has gotten back to us,” she noticed your nervous glances and waved off your concern. “Don’t fret so much, love. It’ll be fun! I’m sure everyone will want to know more about my mysterious apprentice.”

You rolled your eyes. “There’s nothing ‘mysterious’ about me. Your family will take one look--no one sniff of me, and instantly know my entire life story. As much as I hate to say it, we witches have left rather cliched stories of tragedy in our wake.”

Lisa looked over at you solemnly, and pulled Cinder over so that she could rest a hand on your shoulder. “You must stop seeing yourself in such a negative light, little one. Just look at much good you’ve accomplished within your small time of living with me,” she gave you a kind smile. “Don’t worry about what they think, the only thing that matters to me, is that you know how much we care about you.”

Shock lingered on your visage for a split second before you nodded your head, eyes shining with unspoken gratitude. “Thank you, Lisa. It’s…” your voice trails off. “It’s been… difficult, learning to accept that my life doesn’t have to be marred with tragedy. You and your family have helped make that possible. So… again, thank you.”

She gave you a smile so radiant that it could rival the sun, and even though the night slowly grew colder, it did little to put a damper on the warmth that had found a home amongst the conversations you both shared the rest of the ride home.

It wasn’t until the towering pillars of Castlevania appeared on the horizon, did the anxiety you felt towards this upcoming conversation with Adrian resurface. There was a small part of you that wanted him to be waiting outside of the stables as you and Lisa rounded the last hill, but these hopes were dashed just as quickly as they appeared.

Instead, Vlad was there to greet the two of you, and after he gave you an affectionate pat on the head, he plucked Lisa off the back of Cinder as though she weighed practically nothing, and cradled her in his arms as they kissed.

You smiled at the cute display, but there was a sadness hidden behind your eyes as you walked Clara over to her stall. It seemed so unfair that you were denying yourself the same happiness but… it was for the best. You would never be able to forgive yourself if something happened to the family that had been so kind to you all because of a small crush.

You were so lost in thought that you did not hear Vlad and Lisa enter the stables to put Cinder into his stall, and only seemed to snap out of it when they called you over.

“So,” Vlad said, a light blush decorating his pale cheeks. “Lisa tells me that you found out about our anniversary party?”

“Yes, Diana let it slip while I visited her and Marius,” you said, as you followed alongside them into the castle. “And although I am a little nervous to be around so many of your… relatives, I am excited to be apart of such a momentous occasion!”

Lisa blushed, and wrapped her arms around one of her husbands. “I can’t believe it’s already been twenty years.”

Vlad hummed in agreement. “It’s quite extraordinary. I remember the first time we ever met, as though it had happened only yesterday.”

Lisa laughed and gazed up at him adoringly. “Yes, you had been so rude, having not offered me a drink or even to take my coat. I suppose you’ve learned some more manners since we’ve been together.”

Vlad gave a hearty laugh, and gently kissed the top of her head. “For you, my dear, I would move Heaven and Earth.” his ruby eyes glanced over at you, who had been wearing a sly grin this entire time. “Something amusing, little one?”

You fold your hands behind your back and shake your head, “Noo,” you replied, in a sing-songy voice.

Lisa chuckled, and then asked, “Dear, is Adrian not home? I would have expected him to be waiting with you.”

You feel your heartbeat quicken a bit, and you silently kick yourself for how eagerly you await Vlad’s answer with baited breath.

“He is. Last time I saw him, he was heading down to the colosseum to get some practice.”

Lisa made an irritated sound in the back of her throat. “I wish he would find some place else to train… that place is still crawling with monsters.”

“Monsters?” you echoed, and stopped in your tracks.

They both turned to look at you, and the stare that Lisa was giving Vlad, made it very apparent that he was going to be the one having to answer this one.

“Well, you see,” he began, and nervously rubbed the back of his neck. “As I mentioned during our previous conversation, I used to be… quite a household name, but not because of my generosity in the academics. The number of creatures that live within these halls has substantially decreased since those days, but I still keep a few around for protection.”

“Protection from what?” you asked, skeptical that anybody would willingly try and break into Castlevania.

“I ask myself the same question,” Lisa said, a frown on her face.

Vlad fidgeted nervously where he stood, not used to such scrutiny from his own wife. “Well… you never know. It would be foolish for me to simply rely on myself to protect my home if that time ever came. I find it reassuring to know that there are other means in which I can defend my home.”

You were silent for a moment, but then slowly nodded your head. “I mean… that makes sense.”

Lisa gaped at you, clearly unprepared for that response.

“What?” you replied. “I doubt that they would ever harm you or Adrian. They work for Dracula. I’m sure if you so much lost a single hair from your head, they’d be done for.”

Vlad nodded his head in agreement. “Precisely. I also think it’s good practice for Adrian. If he knows how to take down a supernatural beast, he’d hardly work up a sweat against a human opponent.”

Lisa still looked far some pleased, obviously annoyed that you had taken Vlad’s side on this. “It still makes me nervous. What if something were to happen to him while he was down there?”

“Nonsense,” Vlad said. “This is Adrian that we’re talking about, our son. He’s perfectly capable of defending himself.”

She looked as though she had more to say on the matter, but, Lisa decided to table it with a resounding sigh. “Alright, as long as you have confidence in him!” she snapped. “Now, what do you say I fix you two up something to eat?”

As much as you wanted to join them, this nagging feeling in the back of your mind told that you should just head down to the colosseum and get this conversation over with. So you declined Lisa’s kind offer, and told them that you were going to join Adrian, who warned you to stay as far away from whatever monster he was facing.

The thought of seeing a monster caused a chill to seep into the very marrow of your bones, and you wondered just what exactly lurked within the dark, ancient halls of this castle.

When you were little, you had read the tales of infamous Greek monsters, of minotaurs hiding amongst the twisting turns of a giant labyrinth and of vicious chimeras incinerating anything in their path with their fiery breath. Closer to home, there were stories of hellhounds stalking nearby cemeteries, waiting to pounce on anyone unlucky enough to come across them, and of wailing banshees and vindictive spirits haunting homes for generations.

Your nerves were on edge as you walked down the long hallway of the marble gallery, your magic tingling through your veins in preparation to defend yourself from anything that decided to make itself known. You had to keep reminding yourself that these creatures would never harm anyone Vlad believed to be a part of his family, so, you marched forward, and tried to keep a clear mind.

When you finally made it to the old, withering door that lead to the narrow winding staircase, you pushed it open, startled when you come face-to-face with…

“Aria?”

The tiny fairy looked absolutely frazzled, and her big blue eyes widened in surprise when she realized who she had run into. “Thank goodness!” she cried out, and grabbed a hold of your hand. “You must come at once! Adrian he… he…” tears welled in her eyes and she tugged you forward.

Your throat goes dry, and you bring her closer to you. “What’s happened?”

She sniffled, and pulled on your hand again. “He needs your help! Please… please hurry!”

You waste no time in heeding her pleas and take down the stairs at once, going down them as fast as your legs would allow. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and by the time you reach the entrance to the colosseum, you’re panting and your forehead is covered in a sheen of sweat.

The eerie blue glow of the flames cast an ominous shadow onto the colosseum grounds, the putrid stench of evil lingering within the atmosphere. When you finally see what Aria was talking about, your legs are frozen to the spot

Adrian. On the ground. Covered in blood.

You run to him and all but collapse beside him, hands shaking as you quickly scan him over to assess the damage. He lets out a low grunt when your fingers prod at his chest, ripping apart the fabric of his shirt so that you could get a better look at the entry wound.

It was clean, but it looked deep. Your hands move to rest on his chest, and immediately notice how shallow his breathing is, coming to the conclusion that the stab had gone clean through the ribs and punctured his lung.

You feel tears prick at the corner of your eyes when you glance up and see that he’s looking at you, a small smile on his lips.

“Aren’t I lucky that you came down here so quickly?”

“What happened?” you snapped, irritated at the tears that managed to slip past your defenses. You stubbornly wiped them away with your free hand, and it was then that you saw his sword, tossed aside, tip covered in blood.

“I had,” he winced as you apply pressure. “I had been practicing against some of the monsters… seems as though one of them got the better of me.”

“You absolute fool,” you whispered, and pointed at his sword. “Why did you take it out? Didn’t your mother ever teach you to never pull out the foreign object involved in a stab wound?” your voice is hoarse, and panic starts to set in as more and more of his blood coats your hands.

He chuckled weakly. “I thought I might try seeing how much my healing magic has improved…” he glanced down at his wound, and flinched. “Seems as if I still have a way to go.”

How could he be acting so nonchalant about this? This wound was serious. If he didn’t get proper medical treatment immediately he could… he could--

“Aria,” you said, and she flew over to you. “Go and get Lisa. Tell her what happened. I’ll try and stop the bleeding, but I’m going to need her help in order to--”

“No!” Adrian hissed, and took a firm hold of your wrist. “If I wanted my mother’s help, I would have sent for her.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you quipped. “I’m not equipped to deal with this.”

“Yes, you are.”

His grip slackens, and his hand goes to rest on top of yours. “I believe in you.”

You choke back more tears, and your hollow laughter rings out into the still air of the colosseum. “You believe in me? ” you bite down hard on your lower lip to keep it from trembling. “Even…” you let out a stuttering gasp. “Even after what happened today?”

His golden eyes soften, and he nods his head. “Of course. I… I was actually down here trying to get myself into a clearer state of mind before coming to talk to you.” he’s silent for a moment, a shallow breath slipping past his lips. “I wanted… I wanted to apologize,” the grip on your hand tightens for just a moment. “What I said earlier… it was--”

You silence him with a shake of your head, not needing to hear what you already knew. “It’s alright… it’s alright,” you said, and gently removed your hand from his hold on you so that you could place both of them over his wound. “Everything is going to be okay.”

Closing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you focus on stopping the bleeding and closing the wound, as you had done to so many animals. You had to let go of your anxieties to truly let your magic do its work, and believe in the intent that you carried within you to heal Adrian… to save him. A warm feeling bubbled within your chest, your magic flowing through your fingers like a stream of liquid gold.

You thought of all the anatomy lessons Lisa had painstakingly gone through with you, and you pictured the lungs, the right one specifically. In your mind you could see every individual cell, every vein, and every nerve. It needed to be stitched back together, the cell walls, the tissue, the skin… and the blood needed to clot, needed to stop.

There’s a tingling at the very ends of your fingertips, a sensation that travels up your entire body and eventually expels from you in a long, arduous sigh. You feel light headed, and sweat drips down your back, but when you open your eyes, his wound is gone, and the only indication that he had ever been injured is a small scar located at the entry-point.

Your arms are shaking, and you’re struggling to keep yourself up right, but you could not hide the utter elation that fills you up at such a momentous success.

“I can’t believe I did it…” you whispered.

Adrian smiled weakly and placed one of your hands over his heart, its rhythmic beating setting your mind at ease. “I never doubted you for a second.”

There’s a small tug at your hair, and you turn to find Aria, tears flowing down her face that she wipes away with said strand.

“You’re…” she sniffled. “You’re so amazing. I can’t believe you did that!”

You delicately cup her in one of your hands and set her on your shoulder. “It’s all because of your quick haste to find help that I was even able to save him, small lady. So, thank you.”

Aria let out a dramatic wail, and wiped more tears from her eyes. “Whatever did we do to deserve you!”

The moment is unfortunately cut short when a foreboding feeling settles at the base of your spine, and you sense dozens, if not hundreds of eyes on the three of you. Your head shoots up to look into the stands, and your skin crawls at the sight.

Monsters, of all shapes and sizes, stood watch in the seats.

Skeletons wielding swords and lances clatter noisily to one another, while giant, leathery, bipedal birds wielding long spears glare down at you with their beady yellow eyes. Strange gargoyle like creatures, their mouths filled with rows of razor sharp teeth, cackled from up above, while giant wolf-like beasts howled and stomped their giant paws onto the marbled flooring.

“Begone!” Adrian shouted, and grit his teeth as he struggled to get up on his feet. “As your master, I command you to leave this place at once!”

“You are no master of mine.”

The hair on the back of your neck stands up as an otherworldly voice echoes throughout the stadium. The monsters in the stands recoil at the sound, silencing almost instantly, and from one of the nearby entrances, emerged a group of powerful, intimidating monsters.

Knights adorned in thick, steel armor galloped in on horses… horses that appeared to be missing the lower half of their body. Their steeds were unlike any that you had ever seen, decaying and rotten, with their intestines hanging out from where they’d been chopped in half. In their hands they each held a long, deadly lance, raised at the ready to attack.

Beside them stood another group of knights, but they were much too tall for it to be a human residing within the sturdy, blue colored steel. They stood nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with the monstrous horses, and grasped tightly in their massive hands, were a large steel shield and an enormous ax.

You quickly stood up and put yourself between them and Adrian, staring them down with all of the courage that you could muster.

“What is it you want?” you demanded.

“Ah, so you’re the one that emitted such… deliciously powerful magic,” one of the horse-back knights cooed.

“We can’t tell you how surprised we were when we found out that our Lord and Master allowed a witch to walk these sacred halls,” another one spat. “We thought it had been an utter disgrace… that is, until now.”

Their horses let out deep, guttural cries that turned your stomach to knots, as their masters commanded them slowly forward.

“Stay back!” Adrian yelled, his legs wobbling as he stood up off the ground. He grunted from the effort, and almost collapsed back onto the floor, had you not caught him and let him lean against you for support. “I am the Prince of Darkness, son of Vlad Dracula Tepes, and as such, I command you to let us be on our way!”

The knights chuckled, and simultaneously raised their lances.

“You are nothing more than a pathetic child,” one of them hissed. “A petulant brat that assumes he can command us as though he were his own father. Imagine.”

They all laughed, an empty sound that made goosebumps erupt on your skin.

“Please,” you pleaded. “Just let us be on our way, and I promise not to tell Vlad what happened here.”

“Silence witch!” one snarled. “How dare you speak our Master’s name. You were foolish to come down here alone.”

“We never saw what he saw in you, but now…” one cackled beneath their helmet. “We understand everything completely.”

“What do you mean?” you try with everything in your power to not let your voice waver and reveal how terrified you truly are, but there was only so much you could do.

“Your power… it calls out to us.” One said.

“So delicious… so tempting.” Said another.

“We have waited so long… so long for something like this… we won’t let you take this opportunity away from us.”

All at once, the group of monsters began to close in on the three of you, their weapons raised and poised ready to attack.

“Stay back!” Adrian shouted again, and with a wave of his arm, his sword came flying into his hand. “I won’t allow you to continue so much as looking at her, you vile beasts!”

“Pathetic,” one of them said, and before you could even react, one of the larger ax knights had knocked Adrian out of the way with a swing of their shield.

“Adrian!” you cried out, and made to go after him, but you were stopped by a lance being pointed at your throat.

“It would be wise for you to follow our orders, lest a more serious fate befell your so-called Prince of Darkness.”

You could hear Aria crying out for Adrian to wake up, begging him to get up and save you, and in that moment, where you could cry, where you could scream, where you could plead for your life… you remained silent.

This… you had seen all of this before, you had felt all of this before… this feeling of hopelessness… this feeling of tragedy…

A loud ringing fills your ears, and everything appears as though its moving in slow motion.

Yes… it’s just as you predicted… You’ve failed to protect to protect the ones you care about from harm. Again. You’re going to lose everything. Again. All because you’re a witch.

The cacophony of laughter from the knights swirls around you like a tempest, and even though you’ve conceded yourself to this fate… there’s that tug.

No… a voice rings out in your head. No more… no more… No. More.

You glare up at the monsters before you, a renewed vigor in your gaze and confidence in your gait. “My life… my life is one that has been filled with one calamity after another. I thought I was doomed, cursed , to never again find even some semblance of happiness,” you chuckled, something that stops the knights in their tracks.

“But then… I met Lisa. I met Adrian. I met Vlad. They’ve helped give my life purpose, they’ve helped me understand that even someone like me deserves a chance at a happy life… at a good life…” your hands balled up into fists and you took a step forward, staring down the knight before you with the coldest look you could invoke.

“I won’t let you take that away from me.”

What happened next… you weren’t exactly sure. The last thing you remember seeing is the silver glint of their weapons being raised, before a bright blue light consumed everything in the room. Your vision had gone white, and by the time your bleary eyes managed to refocus on your surroundings, the only thing left of those monsters, were piles and piles of ash.

“Wh… what?” you gasped, suddenly keeling over as your head pounded from a terrible headache. You groaned out in pain, and tears caused your vision to go blurry again as you looked upon the ashes scattered around the colosseum.

Where did the knights go?

You heard your name being called out, but it sounded so distant, so… fuzzy.

Did I kill all those monsters…?

“What… happened…?” you muttered weakly, as you collapsed onto the floor; Adrian’s bright gold eyes being the last thing you saw before the darkness consumed you.

31 notes · View notes

swaqwrites · 5 years

Text

this is part 2 to what i assume will be a 3-part shortfic that started last year. took a while to get comfortable writing again, but now that i don’t have the feeling of imminent doom hanging over my head i hope i can get to the meat-and-bones of this small project in the next month or two :) good luck, danny ---

Fright’s assertion continued to echo in Danny’s mind throughout the rest of the party. Shortly after his confession, Danny broke away from his mentor and headed for the kitchen. He remembered that the chef at one point earlier had told Phantom he might need additional help in serving the guests, and as Danny entered through the swinging door to a room in disarray, he found that statement to be painfully true. The knight-in-training was soon ushered back out with a tray in his arms. The chef had given him a short explanation as to what he was actually serving, but as he made his way around the floor, he found himself with a lack of response when asked about the purple mush in each small bowl.

He knew Fright was watching him from somewhere on the sidelines with disapproval, but as of right now he didn’t really care. Whatever he had been drinking earlier wasn’t settling the stir of emotions in his stomach, and with this current burst of energy, he needed a way to keep his thoughts preoccupied from the anxiety that was constricting his throat. The knight couldn’t say that Danny wasn’t doing his job tonight either – enough times, Danny found himself turned around to see the reason why his thoughts were as jumbled as they were.

Phantom, after the third or fourth time Danny faced his direction, had finally seemed to notice what his knight-in-training was up to. A grin broke out on his face, and he began to make a move towards Danny. Danny immediately knew there was no way he could let that happen.

He forced himself to look past the prince, and as another noble hesitantly took the assumed dessert off his tray, Danny started a beeline in a different direction. Glancing back, he thanked the gods that Phantom found himself distracted again by another guest. But, as Danny moved away from the middle of the floor, he found himself on a path again that lead right to the Sanchez family, and potentially Dash. He made another right turn and headed to the back of the room.

From there, he could see the white hair and green crown of Prince Phantom as it seemed to bob in conversation with whoever had pulled his attention. Danny sighed, and with the burst of nervous energy from earlier giving way to the apprehension he felt about speaking to Phantom, he set the tray on the nearest table he found himself by and sat down in an adjacent chair.

He isn’t too sure how long it’s been since he’s sat down; staring out into the crowd and seeing glimpses of the prince through the holes that form. His preoccupied thoughts are interrupted, though, as he feels a thump against the legs of his chair. He turns around and finds himself staring up into a mess of curly, black hair, and a girl in a dress the color of blood grinning down at him.

“Hey stranger,” she says, and pulls a chair up and sits down next to him.

“Hey, Val,” Danny says. He watches her look at the tray that had the remaining mystery food, and as she begins to reach past him to grab a bowl he brushes her hand away. “I don’t think you’ll like that.” Valerie ignores him and again reaches past to grab the nearest serving of sludge.

“I’m starving. I wouldn’t care if it’s worms, and it doesn’t look like ectoplasm.” She makes a face as she pulls the spoon that had been inserted into the mush beforehand, and Danny isn’t too sure if it’s in response to the worms, or the ectoplasm. “Plus, if whatever ghost in the kitchen believed you of all people would be good enough to serve this to other humans at this dumb party, well…”

Danny watches her take a bite. He doesn’t comment on the way she hesitates before taking another spoonful a little too quickly. “Anyways, how’s your own little hell going?”

Danny snorts. “As if working for Vlad would be any different.”

Valerie frowns around her spoon before pulling it out with a pop. “Don’t let our King hear you say that.”

“’Our’?” Danny echoes, and the thoughts that surface are the only ones that seem clear. He bites his tongue before he can speak any more about it because they’ve had this conversation before – in fact, numerous times before. Instead, he rubs his face and leans back to stretch. “I’m tired. Training’s tough. How’s everyone back home?”

“Better or worse,” Valerie replies, and the bowl she finished is set aside as she reaches for another. Danny doesn’t try to stop her this time. “The Manson family went back to their winter estate a few weeks ago. It seems a little early to me, but I’m not high enough in any social standing to understand what it means.” She takes a bite and hums. “Tucker went with them this time, though. He packed up half of the things he’s been tinkering on. Left the rest of them with your family.”

“And them?” Danny said softly. Fright had moved into his vision from the far right and seemed to be deciding on whether to watch him or observe Phantom on the floor.

“Still worried about you, even more so now that Jazz finally left for school.” Valerie was silent for a moment. “They think you’re being tortured over here.”

“And you?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised,” Valerie replied curtly as she set aside her second bowl. She noticed Fright staring at them and glared, and the knight shifted in what Danny would assume was one of his usual grunts before turning his attention on Phantom. “You always seem to be on a short leash whenever I’m around,” She suddenly grabs his arm and he hisses, jerking it back to rub his forearm. “And you wear enough clothes to hide your bruises.”

“I told you, training’s tough,” Danny repeated. “And maybe they wouldn’t consistently watch us if you weren’t consistently verbal about hating Phantom.” He ignored the curse Valerie muttered under her breath at the mention of the prince. “You can tell them I’m fine.”

“And brainwashed.” Valerie groaned, standing up to smooth out the folds her dress made when she sat down. “Every human in this room seems to be.”

“Why come then?” Danny retorts. “Vlad is the last person I thought would make an appearance.”

She doesn’t say anything at that question. Instead, she considers him for a moment and offers out a hand expectantly. “Do you want to dance, Fenton?”

Despite the warning bells in his head, Danny nods after a minute and takes her hand. She’s the closest thing to an anchor that he has from his old home right now, and despite the animosity that’s been between them recently, he would rather embrace the nostalgia of dancing with someone who’s known him longer than anyone else in the ballroom.

They make their way out to the dance floor. Valerie acts familiar and instead of placing a hand on his shoulder, she leans in close and wraps both arms around his neck. In turn, he wraps his arms around her lower back, and they slowly begin to spin with the rest of the crowd.

Valerie, as he always remembered, takes the lead as they move across the floor, and he closes his eyes for a moment as his feet seem to match her own. This isn’t as awkward as it was when he practiced with Phantom, where he fumbled to keep up with the prince’s pace and couldn’t look the ghost in the eye. Valerie, however, was warm, a long-time friend, and used to be one of his closest confidants back in Amity. And for once, in a long time since being sent here, Danny didn’t feel like there were walls he had to hide behind. Despite everything, Danny pulls Valerie closer, and she allows him to do so.

“Do you remember the time that me, you and Tucker went to the lake,” Valerie began, as they made another pass around the hall. “We went out late that night. One of the older kids that we knew had told you…”

“The stars in the sky came down and danced there,” Danny murmured.

“You had tripped on our way out there in the woods and sprained your ankle,” Valerie huffed in amusement. “I gave you a piggyback ride the rest of the way there.”

“It was worth it,” Danny said as he chuckled at the memory. “It was like a mirror, and the stars were so bright that night.”

Valerie hummed in agreement. “We talked for hours on that shore. Our family, our friends, our dreams…” They moved together in silence for a few minutes before Valerie started talking again. “You’re not a fighter, Danny.”

“You’re patronizing me again,” Danny responded back, frowning.

“It’s the truth, and you know it. This isn’t what you wanted that night.”

“And?” Danny looked over Valerie’s shoulder, noting that the crowd seemed to be thinning. “I didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

“King Masters would let you come back whenever you want,” Valerie said, stopping to look him in the face. “Don’t you miss everyone?”

Their previous argument comes rushing back to Danny, and he lets go of her as he takes a step back. Valerie lets him do so, watching him simply as a variety of emotions raged in his head. A faint ringing in his ears seemed to grow louder as he continued to stare at his childhood friend. Something wasn’t right, and while nothing seems to have changed from previously, Danny couldn’t find himself able to continue looking at Valerie in the eye and instead watches as the bottom of her dress pools around her feet. “Where’s Vlad, Valerie.”

“He didn’t come.” She supplies off-handedly, reaching out for Danny’s arm. He takes another step back, and Valerie’s arm hangs in the air between them before she huffs and lets it fall. Danny finally looks up again to find Valerie glaring at the fiery crown that was suspended over Phantom’s position in the crowd a few feet away. “Why would he bother?”

“What?”

“I only came to check on you,” Valerie continues, “and despite myself, I still can’t seem to convince you that these ghosts don’t care whether you live or die.” She turns to him again and smiles, and Danny finds himself walking into open arms as she pulls him close into a hug. “Stay safe, Danny. Times are changing fast.”

“Uhm,” Danny was released from the embrace, and as quickly as she had shown up, Valerie makes her exit. Danny watches as people part before her, a path opening up out of a reputation that proceeded her, and soon she is out the door. He releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, and groans while rubbing his face again.

“Everything alright?” Fright Knight asks when he makes his way over to where Danny was standing. “I don’t recall seeing King Masters here.”

“He wasn’t,” Danny said. “I’m fine. Peachy.”

“What was she here for then?”

“I don’t know.” The ringing in his ears dies down, and Danny scowls at the previous exchange. “Open invitation, right? Times are changing.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong.” Fright mutters, and studies him for a moment with a frown. “Anyways, the party is wrapping up. I’m going to help start closing procedures. You,” He begins, but stops for a moment to watch the crowd. “I need you to escort the prince back to his chambers.”

Danny’s thoughts surrounding Valerie suddenly halts as he processes Fright’s words. “Fright,” he tries to start, but Danny can’t find any words to argue Fright’s order as the knight’s stare cuts through him the same as it did an hour or so previously. “Seriously?”

“That’s an order. Pull yourself together and go wait in the hall. I’ll let Prince Phantom know so he can give his final address before we find you. Don’t,” Fright pushes a finger into Danny’s chest as his voice lowered, and whatever sort of connection Danny felt that he and Fright Knight made earlier was snuffed out as the ghost glared at him, “Don’t mess this up, Daniel.”

Danny sighs, and with a nod leaves Fright alone on the floor. The ghost watches him pass through one of the doors being manned by one of the castle guards, before glancing at the ghost that had approached next to him.

“Follow that girl. Something’s going on.”

“And the boy?”

“Despite myself, I trust him.”

Fright narrows his eyes as the ghost guffaws. “That would be a first. You’ve taken a liking to him?”

“No.” Fright says. “But he is my charge. That’s enough for now.”

#swaq writes #pitch pearl #EVEN THOUGH....................... phantom has now made guest appearances in the past two (2) fics #this is the bridge between Danny trying to deal with his emotions and life never giving this boy a break #the ideas i have for the third part. mmmm #king au #i pull up to the three-point line and let off a 2k short-fic in one weekend #with hardly any editing besides a read-through out loud #at some point i really got to figure out a actual plot for this au LOL all of this is based off of one scene I've written previously #im trash but the latest comment i got on the last fic spurred me try to start writing again

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makeste · 5 years

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BnHA Chapter 214: 4th Popularity Poll and 5th Set Climax

Previously on BnHA: Deku met a Hellboy-looking dude in another one of his One For All Dreams and they had a chat! This friendly yet intimidating fella told Deku that the power that had just exploded out of him was actually the dude’s quirk, Blackwhip. It turns out that OFA hasn’t just been stockpiling physical power; all six of the prior wielder’s quirks are included in the package as well! It’s just that up until now, none of the other wielders has ever been able to access them. Before vanishing back into the dream abyss, Deku’s new friend told him he needed to gain better control of his emotions, as his anger toward Monoma was what triggered Blackwhip’s rampage and made it so difficult to handle. Back in the real world, Deku awakened unharmed thanks to Ochako and Shinsou’s efforts. But since the teachers hadn’t called off the battle yet, Monoma came rushing in to attack, with the rest of Team B not being far behind. Mina and Mineta showed up to battle Yanagi, Shouda, and Kodai (they really need to do something about that number disadvantage), while Ochako battled Monoma and Shinsou got ready to take on Deku. The teachers are still watching btw, but it seems like they want to see how this plays out.

Today on BnHA: The newest popularity poll results are revealed and I have a lot of thoughts. A lot of thoughts. Vlad and All Might question why Aizawa wants to let the kids keep fighting, and Aizawa says it’s cuz they’re all still trying their hardest to win. Mineta saves Mina’s life and then completely ruins it because of course he does, but she takes it in stride and uses him to attack the others by flinging him at high speed to ricochet endlessly off of his grapes in a Gran Torino-esque fashion. Monoma tries to attack Deku with One for All but it doesn’t do anything (fortunately for Monoma), and Ochako then takes him down while Deku goes after Shinsou. Deku by the way is fighting quirkless because he’s worried that if he tries to use OFA right now he’ll lose control and put everyone in danger again. He and Shinsou start tusslin’ and we have a flashback to when Ponytail!Aizawa (omg) was training Shinsou on how to use his capture weapon. Back in the present, Shinsou uses the scarf to send a bunch of heavy pipes crashing down towards Deku. But Deku chooses this moment to make peace with himself and his quirk, and catches the pipes using Blackwhip.

(As always, all comments not marked with an ETA are my mostly-unspoiled reactions from my first readthrough of this chapter. I’m caught up with the manga now at chapter 225, so any ETAs will reflect that.)

how are BnHA’s Jump covers always so epic you guys

Shinsou you better watch out, Deku’s fist is too close for comfort. well you’re the one who wanted to fight him again buddy

all right now let’s check out that character poll

oh, nice

BUT WHERE ARE MY POLL RESULTS. HOLD ON A SECOND, I’M GOING TO THE WIKI TO INVESTIGATE

...okay so apparently the results were actually in chapter 207? but the color spread wasn’t released until this chapter wtf why

okay well let me analyze the color page first, and then I’ll go find and complain about the poll results

BAKUGOU AND DEKU’S SWORDS. okay I’ve seen this image before and I love it so much, and that is of course because it’s a sequel to the color page from chapter 120. and the two of them are now each carrying one half of All Might’s sword. basically this is symbolic confirmation that the two of them together will carry All Might’s legacy forward. this is so important to me you guys. this brings me so much joy and happiness

can we talk about what Hawks is wearing. I thought this was a medieval AU, but he’s looking rather steampunk to me. what, are you too cool for D&D, Hawks? also is that a literal hawk. that you’re holding. for some reason. huh

can we talk about what Todoroki is wearing?? and also what the actual hell is going on with his face? he’s wearing some sort of weird mask. and his outfit looks nothing like it did in the previous AU color spread. was Horikoshi just being extra or is this some indicator of a crazy plotline coming up for him somewhere down the road?

I notice my boy Aizawa is missing from the top ten, which is AN ACTUAL CRIME THAT SHOULD BE REPORTED TO THE POLICE, but! on the other hand! BEST FUCKING JEANIST OH MY GOD. WELCOME BACK BEAUTIFUL PRINCE. PLEASE HEAL UP SOON

loooooool Endeavor being in the top ten must have pissed off lord knows how many people. it would have pissed me off, before the Endeavorhawks arc. but I’m cool with it now. I get it. having him as your favorite doesn’t mean you’re giving a ringing endorsement of all his actions; it just means he’s a compelling character who’s been getting some really good development lately. still absurd that he’d be ranked over Aizawa, but if I’m honest with myself it really should be Jeanist who was bumped down for that. he’s just there because Japan apparently shares the same weird tastes as myself. by the way how fucking strange is it to see Jeanist without any Jeans holy shit is that even allowed

and winding down here, (1) I’m glad to see All Might still in the top ten ranks at least, (2) Iida is a handsome boy and I love how his armor is reminiscent of his Ingenium costume here, and that he’s the one actually riding the dragon (be careful Iida or my idiot son is going to fall right off its head), (3) Kirishima is still as popular as ever I see, and lastly (4) Momo being in the top 10 is giving me life and I hope she gets some more spotlight this year! it was great to see her as the head of her respective Joint Training battle team

okay! so now let me find the list from chapter 207

holy shit, okay so first of all let me just say that apparently this poll received almost 81,000 votes. for comparison, the third poll only received about 36,000

so having said that, it is absolutely astounding that my boy Bakugou came in at number one yet again, with a margin of over 1000 votes. glad to see you being appreciated boyo

and Shouto made it to #2 for the first time! good job hot and cold! the Endeavorhawks arc definitely gave him a boost as well I think. and well deserved!

and my boy Deku at #3, but while the difference between Katsuki and Shouto is only about 1200 votes, the difference between Shouto and Izuku is more than 7,400. basically the top two are in a league of their own here goddamn

and Hawks is all the way at #4! holy shit! more than 4,500 votes between him and Deku, mind, and Kirishima is nipping at his heels less than 200 votes away from him, but still, that’s amazing given how recently he made his debut and how relatively few chapters he’s been in. I expect the number of votes for him to skyrocket in the next poll, assuming we get more of that double agent storyline. Touya -- I mean Dabi -- is probably gonna get a boost too lol

my boy Finest Jeanist on God’s Green Earth is next at 6th, and then MOMO IN 7TH PLACE YAAAAAY GO MOMO

and Endeavor made it to 8th! HOLY SHIT ENDEAVOR YOU FINALLY BEAT ALL MIGHT IN THE APPROVAL RATINGS. THESE TRULY ARE MAD DAYS

Iida beat All Might as well and made it to #9! though only by 100 votes

and All Might is in 10th, and then Aizawa is at 11th. oh Aizawa. you were upstaged by a crotchety old man seeking to make amends for his past sins, and a denim-clad meme who nearly made the ultimate sacrifice against AFO and then proceeded to not be in the manga for 120 chapters and counting. but it’s okay you were never in this for the fame

anyways the rest of the results are listed here, but some quick parting remarks:

Gang Orca came in at 15th, presumably thanks to his EXTRA GUIDANCE

my boy Denki is in 16th place and I want him to keep moving up! go kick Shindou’s ass. how the hell did that tool make it all the way to 14th place

Ojiro is still inexplicably popular to me. he’s a nice guy but you could replace him with a cardboard cutout of himself probably and I bet you it would take some time before anyone noticed something was off

Jirou is at 21st despite her performance in the Band AU arc and that is fucked up, people. WHERE IS THE RESPECT

Shinsou somehow went down despite finally making his reappearance in the series?? I seriously don’t understand how popularity works, at all

Overhaul beat Mirio by 3 votes and while I’m so psyched Mirio did better than the last poll (up to 26th place! these 455 people have impeccable taste), this fact is utterly depressing to me. did these people actually read the arc, for real

NIGHTEYE IS AT 27TH AND I’M SO SAD. not about him being at 27th, because that’s actually pretty good. but just, you know. because once again I am reminded that he’s dead sob

lastly, in the American popularity poll Bakugou received 38,000 fucking votes holy shit. we may not have any fucking clue how to vote for presidents but at least we fucking got something right, goddamn. and Mirio in 9th place. and Aizawa in 6th. you guys are all right, US fandom

anyways that took like 25 years and if I’d known it was going to be this long I would have saved the poll to be its own damn recap lol. but now on to the actual chapter!

lol so Vlad is like ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS, YOU DON’T WANT TO STOP THEM??

Vlad this is just how we do things around here. not all of us can be ~safe~ teachers whose students don’t get attacked and abducted every Wednesday afternoon. some of us like to live on the edge and be super irresponsible because we’re lazy and also because the students will honestly manage to get into trouble regardless of whether we do our jobs or not

and anyways Aizawa says that if Deku’s quirk acts up again he’ll stop it so it’ll be fine

and All Might’s asking Aizawa why

well it’s obviously because he wants to give Shinsou a chance to complete his examination. and maybe he wants to see how the kids deal with this unexpected twist as well. so long as nobody gets hurt, why not

oh my god Aizawa

this man is fighting to reclaim that top 10 spot. never give up. never surrender

so we’re cutting to panels of all 9 battlin’ kids, and he says all of them are still trying to win this battle

because fucking plus ultra, in other words

sob I should be more indignant shouldn’t I. has this school actually made me come around to their way of thinking

nah, it’s only because everything is clearly fine now. had this scene taken place even 90 seconds earlier I would have been all “WHAT ARE YOU DOING, OF COURSE YOU SHOULD STOP THEM”

lol what

he just shows his affection in some very strange ways tbh

anyway so here we go! back to the kiddos! Deku and Shinsou are each holding onto Shinsou’s scarf and staring each other down!

and now Shinsou has GONE FISHIN’

this is beyond hilarious to me. oh my god. Deku you could just let go

but I guess he thought he could out-muscle him. like if anything, he’d be the one pulling Shinsou down to where he is. but instead he’s falling off of the platform where he and Ochako were standing

and Ochako’s running over and she’s all “Deku lost...?! in a power struggle?!”

that makes it sound like Game of Thrones lmao

Deku’s glancing back up at her and says he can’t use his quirk right now because he’s worried about putting everyone in danger again

yeah, that’s probably a good call. at least until you get a handle on your emotions. even ol’ Hellboy was all “much as I love my awesome fucking quirk, it’s been powered up to here and back now so results may vary”

Ochako says that in that case they should retreat and regroup

lol how are you going to fucking retreat. this has already turned into a melee battle, they’ll just follow you

and Deku says that if they retreat now, they’ll lose

ah, good point

this is their chance to capture him, when he’s exposed and his quirk which relies heavily on stealth and surprise has been neutralized

Ochako’s jogging over to him

oh my god

IT’S THE BATTLE HE’S BEEN PREPARING FOR HIS ENTIRE LIFE

oh to see Katsuki’s reaction to this. sigh

oh. but Deku is dotting and he says “not exactly”

what are you up to you mysterious little chia pet

meanwhile ASHIDO MINA IS BEING A TOTAL BADASS AND I’M HERE FOR IT

THIS ACID MAY STING! A BIT!!

(ETA: you know, I made fun at the time, but given all the other shit we’ve seen today, I have to give her credit for at least warning her opponents before attempting to maim them.)

and class B is just doing the same damn thing as before

I’m surprised they’re not trying to go on offense. mind you, it shows that they have a lot of respect for Mina’s offense and they don’t feel like getting pummeled by acid this fine afternoon, which is understandable

oh shit but here we go

MINA YOU BETTER DODGE THAT SHIT, SHOUDA’S QUIRK HAS A LOT OF POTENTIAL TO BE RIDICULOUSLY BROKEN IF HE USES IT RIGHT

...holy shit

QUICK, LET’S ENJOY THIS BEFORE HE SOMEHOW RUINS IT. WHY CAN’T WE LIVE IN THE ALTERNATE UNIVERSE WHERE HORIKOSHI GAVE US A LOVABLE, FUNNY, AND COOL MINETA AND NOT THE HOT GARBAGE PERV THAT WE HAVE TO PUT UP WITH INSTEAD

good job Mineta. how many panels before you say something stupid to enrage us all again

oh shit I scrolled down to the rest of the page and SO FAR SO GOOD?! wow this is like a record

Mineta did something smart and creative and swooped in to save a teammate and didn’t say or do anything perverted to ruin it?? better get me an umbrella cuz I suspect the other shoe will be dropping shortly

(ETA: 3... 2...)

aaaaaaaaaaaand the very first panel on the next page is him being smacked into Mina’s chest as a result of the twin impact, apparently just as planned

well so much for that. he made it a whole five panels though

hey, imagine if Horikoshi had written that scene and then not thrown in that last part in for absolutely no reason. imagine if Mineta was like that all the time. underestimated and mostly overlooked because of his mascot-like appearance and oddball quirk, but impressing us all with surprisingly clutch saves at crucial moments. kind of like the little niche that Aoyama has established for himself. it honestly wouldn’t be that hard to make Mineta an interesting and actually funny character, and the fact that we’re going on five years of the same old shit instead is kinda disheartening

anyways, enough mourning what could have been, I guess. in the meantime Mina is grabbing him and hurling him lmao

and he’s bouncing around like a ping pong ball and class B is trying to avoid getting hit by him

oh my god. he is the special attack

ain’t nobody wanna get hit by that. that’s a smart move

Shouda says he wants to pull back, but they’re kind of surrounded now and it’s hard to come up with a plan in the spur of the moment

all credit to Mina’s astounding creative mind, which has fucking flourished in these last couple of arcs and I hope it continues to do so. she is brilliant

Tsuburaba says Shouda is having to protect the other two because they’re weak at close-range combat? say what now?? how is a telekinesis quirk weak at close-range combat, exactly?? just float some metal shit into the air and wait for Mineta to inevitably ricochet into it and concuss himself and just like that you’re free to take on Mina three against one. even someone as awesome as her would struggle with that

meanwhile, Jirou is wondering why the hell the teachers haven’t stopped the battle yet

and here’s the first we’ve seen of Katsuki since The Thing happened, so yeah you bet I’m posting that shit

he looks openly confused, and not in his normal “I don’t know what’s going on and that pisses me off so Imma make an angry face” way. but in a more overtly “what the fuck” way. not that dissimilar to the way he looked when he was watching All Might battle AFO, but with less panic, thankfully

it definitely says a lot about how far his relationship with Deku has come that this is his reaction, though. confusion and maybe slight concern, rather than anger or jealousy or automatically thinking this is something new Deku had up his sleeve that he was purposely hiding from him. he really has come such a long way since Ground Beta

anyway so here’s Deku and Ochako taking on Monoma

at least someone is using that TK quirk. or is that twin impact that he’s using. well either way, at least he’s doing something and not just standing there

oh look more Monoma monologuing

officially the most dramatic motherfucker who ever lived. but more importantly,

OH MY GOD HE’S GOING TO USE ONE FOR ALL LASKDFLKJSLKDJFLK DON’T DIE MONOMA

why he would attempt to use a quirk that he has seen breaking its original owner’s bones and only MOMENTS AGO causing its owner intense pain as he flailed around out of control is beyond me. he kind of snapped here and got all go big or go home, I guess

Deku I assure you it very much can

now Ochako’s telling Monoma to stop and that it’s dangerous! and she’s charging toward him!

OH MY GOD

HE WAS FUCKING BLUFFING?? HOW

AND OH MY GOD OCHAKO, I STAN YOU SO FUCKING HARD RIGHT NOW THOUGH. IS IT JUST ME OR ARE THE LADIES THE UNDISPUTED MVPS OF THIS FIGHT!? DEKU DOES SHE HAVE TO DO EVERYTHING HERSELF OR WHAT

wow what??

so he was trying to activate it but it wouldn’t work?

well (1) he’s damn lucky it didn’t, and (2) is that because Deku’s technically quirkless? or is it because the nature of OFA makes it so it can’t be copied or passed on to anyone against the owner’s will? that is really convenient if so

(ETA: or (3) he did copy the quirk but not the accumulated power stored within it. oooh I have some thoughts on that. gonna try and take some time this evening to type out that OFA essay.)

Shinsou’s trying to save his partner, but!

oh shit

he looks so caught off guard sob. Deku are you gonna punch him. please be gentle he is still new to this

once again, I submit for your consideration: your MVP

you see Monoma, this is how you take a supposed “supporting character” quirk and elevate it to its max potential

so now Deku’s tackling Shinsou and they’re tumbling onto the ground

Shinsou’s making another attempt to get Deku to talk but our boy is too smart for that shit now. fool him once, shame on you. fool him twice, shame on him. but you still haven’t managed to fool him thrice so it looks like he can be taught!

and Shinsou is again saying he’s not the same as when they last fought

ahhhhhhhh we’re cutting back to the teachers now ARE WE GONNA GET SOME SHINY MENTOR FEELS

YESSSSSSSSSSS

HOWIRHFALSKDLFJL THE PONYTAIL LIVES, MY FRIENDS

oh my god oh my god

mentor feels! All Might you’re not the only one who’s been training kids out in the woods in the wee hours of the morning!

Aizawa is self-taught holy fucking shit this man’s talent is severely underrated

THE PONYTAIL. I NEED TO MENTION IT AGAIN FOR OBVIOUS REASONS

and I don’t think I’ve rambled about this yet, but! now we’re finally getting to see why Aizawa took such a personal interest in Shinsou, and I’ve been waiting and waiting for this and I’m so happy we’re finally getting to it. he sees himself in him. they both have powerful quirks capable of incapacitating even the strongest opponents, but the catch is that those quirks are mental rather than physical. physically they are essentially quirkless, and so if they ever get caught off-guard -- or pitted against giant robot opponents, or opponents who are otherwise immune to their abilities -- they’re at a huge disadvantage

so here’s this kid who’s very much like him, and Aizawa has no obligation to reach out to him, but he does so all the same, because he cares, and if he can help this kid fulfill his dreams and not have to stumble along and make it up as he goes the way he had to, isn’t that worth doing?

Aizawa Shouta let me just once again say that it’s a war crime that you were not ranked in the top ten, and I think we need to conduct a special investigation into these poll results. I’m only seeking justice and the truth

OKAY BUT THIS IS SOME INDIRECT HIGH PRAISE FOR THE ENTIRETY OF CLASS “NOT A SINGLE ONE OF US WAS EXPELLED” 1-A THOUGH AND I CAN’T EVEN DEAL

AND THEN THE FLASHBACKS TO SHINSOU AFTER HIS FIRST BATTLE, AND BEING SO HARD ON HIMSELF. BECAUSE HE WANTS TO LIVE UP TO AIZAWA’S FAITH IN HIM. OH MY GOD I CAN’T, THIS IS SO GOOD THOUGH AND I’M EMOTIONALLY COMPROMISED

so now Shinsou’s shouting again that he’s not the same as he was back then!

and he’s using his capture weapon to bring a bunch of heavy pipes crashing on top of them!

BUT NOW DEKU IS HAVING SOME MENTOR FEELS OF HIS OWN OH GOODNESS

;________; WHY DID THAT MAKE ME TEAR UP, SOMEBODY EXPLAIN

(ETA: I think because it’s a reminder that all of the past wielders of OFA are just as good and pure as All Might in their own ways, and they’ve all been working tirelessly to fight evil this whole time, and it’s like Deku doesn’t have just one mentor, but he has eight now.)

AAAAAHHHHHHHH

LOOK AT HIM USING BLACKWHIP IN THE SAME MANNER AS THE CAPTURE SCARF WEAPON, THOUGH?? DID SHINSOU INSPIRE HIM

(ETA: of course he did. this is Deku, he takes and learns from everyone. I love it.)

AND JUST LOOK AT THIS FUNKY LITTLE SUCCESSOR LIVING UP TO THE FAITH THAT’S BEEN PLACED IN HIM

oh my god. what a damn chapter. this recap is almost 4000 words and it was worth it. I love this arc

#bnha #boku no hero academia #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta #shinsou hitoshi #uraraka ochako #monoma neito #ashida mina #shouda nirengeki #kodai yui #yanagi reiko #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #shoutout to horikoshi who passed the bechdel test again today #as much grief as I give him for the mineta stuff and for his ratio of female to male heroes and ofa wielders #I gotta give him credit where it's due #and mina and ochako are amazing in this chapter right here as well #this series can be so good about some things even if other things leave a lot to be desired #that's just life I suppose #but I do appreciate the amount of asskicking from my badass ladies #and I acknowledge that it's something that's still all too rare in shounen manga #so while things may not be perfect I'll take what I can get and give my girls their props #toga mina and ochako you guys are crushing it #more of this please

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