Vlad Dracula Tepes - Tumblr Posts
Such a great job you did, i really appreciate it.
When i was reading the Bram Stoker's book i thought about this questions, happy that you found the answers to themđ€đ
On September 6th, 2022, I shared this realization with my friends on Tumblr and I remember going bonkers over it:
I shared this with Maddie. I realized something while I was going through the novel, Dracula, again. So the events take place in the month and year the book was published in May 1897. But doesn't that seem off? Then it occurred to me that the seven-month-long events of the book happened before it was published.
Then I remembered that Jonathan and Mina have a son at the end of the book and it's mentioned that seven years had passed. So the events of Dracula took place in the year 1890 or as early as 1889 before the book was published.
So my idea is Abraham Van Hellsing had Bram Stoker publish the book with the year changed.
Also, while a sequel was written by one of Bram Stoker's descendants (which wasn't well received by the fandom) it did mention Abraham had Bram Stoker publish the book because he wanted to help other people that went through the same ordeal he and the others had with Dracula.
So according to Jonathan he and Mina had Quincey on November 5, 1890. One year after Quincey died and Dracula was defeated.
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So I am making this post because I not only made a mistake on the year the events of the book take place, but I have two possible years the book is set in.
The clue I am going by is the conversation Mina has with Abraham Van Hellsing when she recounts to him Jonathan's shocking although justified reaction to Dracula showing up in London. She mentioned it happened on a Thursday, and earlier in the book she wrote and dated the episode happening September 22nd.
With this information, I went to Time and Dates to look at 17 calendar years for a September 22nd landing on a Thursday and found three: 1881, 1887, and 1892.
I want to believe the events happened in 1887 since not only would Quincey Harker have already been born and seven by the time his family and their friends return from visiting Dracula's Castle in Romania but following these events Abraham Van Hellsing gathers the handwritten and audio accounts of their time dealing with Dracula.
He writes the manuscript that would become the Dracula novel or he meets Bram Stoker who writes the novel after meeting Abraham because Mr. Van Hellsing wanted to help other people that would likely deal with vampires like he and his group did.
After having a difficult time getting the novel published Dracula finally hits the shelves on May 26, 1897, which is ironically Dracula's Day.
I needed to dig a little more before settling on which year Dracula took place in, and boy I hit something and find another clue I overlooked: the Demeter.
After reading up on Bram Stoker and an interesting article about his time studying for the elements pertaining to his novel on Time's website, apparently, the book was centered around real-life events and real-life people.
Jonathan Harker, his wife, and Dr. Seward were real people. The Demeter Incident was real, but the ship was called Dmitri. The sailors said the incident happened a few years ago. Bram Stoker started working on Dracula in the summer of 1890. So I can without a doubt say it was set in 1887. Which gladdens me.
When he tried to hand over the manuscript to be published as a non-fiction book his editor refused it since it pertained to events centering around a mass murder and then before it was finally published in 1897 101 pages were cut out, the epilogue was shortened, and other alterations were made to avoid a mass public panic since the madman was believed to still be around.
I never expected to learn this much about the book and its events to this magnitude but I was certain I would need to change some of the dates on my previous post about vampires and ghouls.
Sources
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Dracula by Bram Stoker
@merumely @thirstyforlulu @alucardownsmyass @doodleferp @diamond-star @sundove88 @michi-tala @amikartest @trashbaby92 @goblins-riddles-or-frocks @blood-and-cigars @the-hellsing-organisation @icecry @thecrimsonwingsfckerabridged @elixirvitae @therejectkat @alucrd @autumnaaltonen â @valentine-bites @theloveandthedead
no one had a good wallpaper of him so i made one for myself
today i found out yellow isnât good on dracula.Â
i just needed to get this out of my chest
Love That Bites Pt. 5
Hello! Welcome to part 5 of my Dracula x reader series!
This part is a little bit of filler, but I enjoyed writing some of it! I hope you enjoy reading it!
Summary: After feeling a bit better, you pay Dracula a visit again before heading home, though canât help but feel like the energy in the room is different than before. Despite feeling better, you are still recovering, and your body demands rest at the worst place and time. Maybe itâs not so bad, though?
CW: mentions of illness (nothing too graphic described) mentions of toxic family, cursing, slight nihilistic thinking,
Word count: 3092 Words!
First: Here
Previous: Here
Next: ?
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You woke up feeling horrible.
From your head hurting, your stomach feeling like a rock was in it, to a funky taste in your mouthâŠ
Whatever made you sick, really must have really hit you hard this time.
âFuck meâŠâ you mumbled, your voice gravelly and rough. Your throat burned a bit, and your tongue felt like sandpaper.
Gripping the sheets under you, you pushed yourself upwards, and rubbed your eyes with your free hand.
You were back in your room at the cottage. If you remembered correctly, you passed out on your bedâŠ
Memories of what had happened were a bit fuzzy, but as you sat up on the bed, you were able to slowly piece things together.
Grabbing your phone, you looked at the time, and your eyes widened. It had been two days since you arrived. You must have been out of it.
Slowly, you stood up off the bed, and wobbled to the bathroom.
All you really remember, was Draculaâs castle, and feeling incredibly* sick on your trip. The feeling made you cut your visit to the statue short, and you fell ill outside the castle.
The trip back to the cabin was a bit of a blur, you felt you were incredibly lucky to have made it back at all.
You remember stumbling through the forest for over an hour, sweating and occasionally getting sick. It was impressive you made it that long and bypassed certain traps.
Entering the bathroom, you flipped the lights on, amd winced at the light and your reflection.
Your eyes had sunken in, and you were a bit pale. Your hair was a mess, and you no doubt probably stank.
âGrossâŠâ you mumbled. Thank god you had a shower here.
Everything after the forest was all in bits and pieces. You remember collapsing on the bed, and later rushing to the bathroom, and sleeping on the floor for a while.
At some point, you woke up, grabbed a bucket, and climbed back in bed after nabbing some fresh water and broth.
You were probably like that for a while.
With a huff, you shakily went back to your room, and grabbed some clean clothes. Just because you were sick, didnât mean you could skip out on why you were here.
At least being here made it easier. If you had gotten sick at home, your step father probably wouldnât have sent you on a job.
Or would have made you sleep in your car so you didnât âcontaminateâ their home.
Bah.
Plus, being here at the cabin, you can conveniently open your laptop and check the footage, all from the comfort of your bed.
Or couch, in this case. Itâd be best to clean the sheets in case whatever made you sick stuck around.
Still, all doable while under the weather. Way better than being at home, and stuck in a miserable car. All while you most likely would have been forced to play âservantâ the moment you felt better.
Oh, how tempting it was to just move here despite your new neighbor. If only.
Getting yourself cleaned up was a slow affair. You made sure to take some medicine, before taking a nice, long shower. Cleaning yourself and getting some clean clothes on was a huge boost to your mood, and helped you feel loads better.
All you needed was some water and food, and you could get started scanning all your footage.
Though you werenât looking forward to checking the traps, but you couldnât afford to be careless. Being sick was already bad enough, but you couldnât let your guard down.
At least you had some form of relief though knowing there was most likely nothing to worry about.
Better safe than sorry, though.
After cleaning yourself up, you made yourself some soup. It was at times like this you were incredibly thankful you kept supplies in numbers at your little sanctuary.
Though you almost cringed at how your stomach seemed to angrily want to reject the simple meal after you took a small bite.
That would not do, not do at all. You had to eat.
âIf I have to take a potion for stomach issues, I swear-â
You were not happy.
âWhatever I ate really fucked me upâŠâ
At least you had some spare potions. You could sip on a small one, you guessed.
It took a few minutes, but eventually you were able to sit down on the couch, laptop on the coffee table in front of you. On a side table, you had a glass of water, a potion bottle, and a half eaten bowl of soup.
You were so tired.
Running a hand down your face, you sighed as you got comfortable.
What a mess. Getting sick on your first trip back to check in Dracula. He probably thinks youâre pathetic.
Well, he probably thought all Belmonts were pathetic, but no doubt you were probably at the top now.
For some reason, the idea doesnât settle well in your chest.
You werenât sure why, but you didnât really want to seem so pathetic to your familyâs nemesis. Even if he was just a statue at the moment.
âHa. Since when should I care what Count Dracula thinks of me? If anything, him thinking Iâm weak is better, is it not? He might just underestimate meâŠâ
It was silly, but you couldnât help but wonder what he must have thought. He wasnât an idiot, Dracula probably knew something was off when you got up to leave.
Running a hand through your hair, you reached over and sipped on a potion, wincing at the god awful taste.
It was helping at least. Whatever fucked up your stomach messed you up good.
In the back of your mind though, you couldnât help but wonder if it was really the food or not. You hadnât exactly been feeling well these past few months. This isnât the first time you became incredibly ill over the course of a few days.
Though it certainly had the worst timing yet.
If you had the cash, and access to your familyâs funds, you would have checked with a doctor by now. But hey, you at least had potions to help.
Should You be a bit more concerned? Oh absolutely. Did you have the means to be? Not really.
Typing in your password on the computer, you tried to distract yourself. No reason to get upset again over things out of your control, especially when youâd be here a while.
Much like you had expected, when you scrubbed through your camera footage, you didnât find anything of note.
Just a lot of shots of nature which would be great for a background of a youtube video. Otherwise? Nothing remarkable.
You tapped your fingers against the arm of the couch.
Deep down, you had a feeling this would be what your life was going to be like for a while.
Though it probably wouldnât last, knowing your luck.
Sure, Dracula himself was stuck, and so far, none of his henchmen have noticed heâs around.
But it was Dracula. It would only be a matter of time before something happened, and he would be back. It was just a guessing game on how long it would be until then, and if you made the wrong choice on deciding to spare the statue.
You heaved out a sigh, and continued to scrub through footage. At least you could do this peacefully.
â
It wasnât until two days later you stood in front of the castle again.
You were still feeling under the weather, but feeling leagues better than when you had left a few days prior.
It was odd, but after taking time for yourself for the past few days, you felt drawn here.
Was it fate? Or overwhelming curiosity with the strange situation?
Or god forbid, did you actually enjoy coming here and seeing the damned castle.
You didnât like how that thought felt a little too real. How you were easily beginning to prefer this place than your family home.
It wouldnât be the first time a Belmont was here for a while. You remembered reading about one of your ancestors named Richter, who ended up at Draculaâs castle for a while.
Though, youâd admit the context was widely different.
Where Richter was possessed by a dark priest, you were here on your own free will. Free will and morbid curiosity disguised as family duty.
You blew a strand of hair out of your face.
Without another second of hesitation, you pushed through the front gate, and stepped into the courtyard.
It was odd how you were slowly becoming acclimated to the ominous atmosphere. Even the creepy howls of wind blowing through the trees almost seemed like a comfort.
âHow sad is it, that a Belmont finds Castlevania to be more welcoming than their own home?â You joked to yourself, ignoring how sad the joke really seemed to be.
How far the mainline family has fallen, indeed.
This visit didnât change much from last time. You went through the same hallways, and climbed up the same stairs and towers.
But it did feel different when you entered the throne room this time.
The air was off, in a way you couldnât place.
Still, you scampered in regardless, ignoring the nerves in your gut.
A part of you really didnât want to face Dracula after what had happened, but no doubt it would seem more pathetic to hide from the problem. Continuing to visit seemed like the best option.
Its not like you had a choice anyway.
It wasnât too bad, actually walking into the room. It didnât get rid of your urge to fiddle with your hands, though.
âIâm back.â You spoke out quietly, eyeing the statue.
Still the same, pretty, gothic vampire man from before.
âFelt a bit under the weather these past few days, but Iâm feeling a lot better today.â You said, exaggerating a little bit. Didnât want him thinking you were unfit for a fight.
Though maybe you should want that. You wondered if you should really even care at this point.
You paused your regular examination when your eyes met his. For some reason, you felt you couldnât look away.
Despite the statue looking so cold, his eyes always seemed to speak differently. It was something you thought about the last few times you were here, but never really paid too much attention to.
Mostly because you were a bit scared to look too deeply into them. Bad things tend to happen to humans who stare too long into a vampireâs eyes, after all.
But now? You couldnât help but feel⊠odd.
You wouldnât say you felt entranced, youâve experienced that, before. Thankfully you broke free from such a spell rather quickly.
This though⊠you couldnât find another way to describe it.
People have said for centuries that eyes are the windows to the soul. Youâve always been inclined to believe them, given your line of work.
Staring straight into Draculaâs eyes had your hair raising on your neck, and your skin crawling.
But you didnât exactly feel like you were in danger.
What made you feel as such, was how you genuinely felt like you were just⊠staring into his eyes, like he was real, in front of you. Like a person, not a statue.
This almost solidified your theory that he must be at least somewhat aware, though you still had no means of proving it.
His eyes⊠they held an emotion you could not pinpoint, but you still felt the stare all the same. Suddenly the feeling in the room made a little more sense.
You donât know how long you stood there, eye level with him, staring into his eyes. When you finally came to your senses, however, you found yourself almost jumping backwards as if you had been struck.
Blinking a bit, and shaking your head, you turned to look back at him from a comfortable distance.
If you didnât know any better⊠you could have sworn the air in the room had changed ever so slightly.
It felt almost⊠playful.
You gave the statue a look.
Somehow, you could just tell the vampire was laughing at you. This time though? It didnât particularly feel as mocking or condescending.
Or maybe you were still just sick and imagining things. You only broke your fever yesterday, after all.
Itâd be silly to think the vampire was amused.
But that didnât change the way the room felt.
You let out a âhmph!â, and crossed your arms, though there wasnât really any malic in your actions.
âDecided to stop by again, before I inevitably have to head back-back home.â
You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering, but it was a thought you had been avoiding. You really didnât want to head back, especially after getting so sick.
The longer you waited though, the bigger than chance your family would either ransack your room, toss out your stuff, or even straight up kick you out.
Even if that was a possibility now, given what you were doing and where you were. The longer you had a home to go back to with all your stuff, the better.
Especially since it was the few things of your mother you had left. You were keen on the idea of having to say goodbye so soon.
Sighing, you relaxed a small bit.
âNothing seems too different here than before. I guess not a lot would happen if the castle is sleepingâŠâ
You gazed around the room, eyes immediately drawn to the windows that aimlessly slammed open and closed with the wind from outside.
Walking up to one, you caught the two door like windows, and gently shut them. Latching them closed, you proceeded to do the same to every window that clacked open.
âIf it were me, personally, that would have drove me mad. Non-stop slamming? Yeah, no thanks.â You mumbled, unsure why you were even doing this. You have already granted mercy to the vampire, and here you were giving him another.
âA little kindness can always go a long wayâŠâ
The voice of your mother rang clear in your head, and you gave a silent sigh.
âSmall acts of kindness, and whatever.â You whispered, walking back through the room.
If it were you, the sounds would have driven you mad.
Then again, you were a mortal, and this was a 1000-something old vampire. He probably could handle it better.
Still, it was the kind thing to do.
Damn you and your morals.
You ended up in front of the statue again, although fairly close. After a moment, you sighed, and made the decision to sit down next to the statue.
Were you getting a bit sloppy with your self preservation? A bit, but you were tired. You still hadnât even completely recovered.
Rubbing your head, you listened to the ambient thunder and wind, somewhat relaxing.
It was honestly⊠kind of nice. You hated to admit it, but it was true. The ambience was actually really relaxing, especially with the windows now shut and latched.
You let out a yawn.
âUgh. Iâm exhausted. I havenât slept well in who knows how longâŠâ you mumbled, and rubbed your eyes, trying to focus. Even as you had been recovering, rest did not come to you easy.
If you were being real with yourself. Rest hasnât come easy to you in years.
The cabin had been one of the only places you felt you could get some sleep and rest. That was a bit harder with everything going on.
Even these past few years, each visit to said cabin, you had been under more and more stress. When was the last time you could close your eyes without worry? Without your stress eating you alive?
The wind almost sounded like a reassuring song, and the thunder seemed to relax your very bones.
You grew weary, and didnât notice the feeling of eyes on you, curiously (and worriedly) watching as you fought off slumber.
It wasnât even his doing, you were fully aware of that. This was all you, being lured to sleep in a place that in another universe, would have had you killed for this.
The rug beneath you was soft, and you lightly dug your fingers into it. You wondered if it would be nice to lay on.
You sighed, feeling your head beginning to throb. Fingers curling into the long rug, you idly yawned once more.
Maybe⊠it wouldnât hurt to rest your eyes for a minute. Itâs not like Dracula is going anywhere soon, amd if someone finds you, wellâŠ
If you die, then you die.
You were honestly too tired to care. If you were this exhausted, you knew damn well you could pass out in a worse spot in the woods on the way back. Resting until you felt a little better to walk was unfortunately the smartest move.
Leaning forward a bit, you laid down against the carpet, and curled up a little close to the statue. There was still about two feet or so between you, but you figured as long as you didnât touch him, it didnât matter.
âSorry⊠I donât feel too well.â You whispered as you made yourself comfortable. Curling up further into a ball, you gripped the handle of your whip they rested at your hip.
Just in case.
âIâm just gonna⊠rest for a few minutes. Iâll⊠Iâll head home soon. Be out of your way, I promise. âM sorryâŠâ you continued to whisper, apologizing over such silly things. You didnât even notice yourself slipping into the old habit.
Dracula was a statue. Itâs not like he could do anything. Would he even care? Hell, he probably thought you were even more pathetic.
May as well make it count then. Maybe if he wants to kill you if he wakes up, heâll think you are a lazy, sickly hunter. Underestimate you and give you the upper hand.
You technically were ill and a bit lazy, sure, but you were still the best damn hunter on this side of the planet.
Slowly, despite trying yoor best to stay awake, you found yourself quickly falling into slumber. The giant carpet was just so soft⊠and you were just so exhaustedâŠ
As you relaxed and drifted off into slumber, you failed to notice the stone eyes of your imprisoned adversary were no longer staring ahead down the throne room.
They were now staring down at you.
Love That Bites Pt. 8
AAAA ITS FINALLY DONE
Hello!! Welcome to part 8 of my Dracula x Belmont reader fic! Sorry it took so long to come out, but I hope you all enjoy it regardless! đ„°
Summary: What should have been the worst day of your life, quickly becomes the most confusing one when your familyâs sworn enemy helps patch you up, and refers to you as his guest.
CW: Description of injury, blood, blood loss, minor anxiety and confusion, blood drinking (from a wine glass)
Word Count: 3765 Words!
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Reblogs and comments appreciated!
Tag list: @Onewiththebeanbag @starrlo0ver @sleepyendymion @dame-sunflowers
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All within the span of a few hours, you couldnât help but wonder if you had lost your mind.
Or maybe you had died, or were still at home, and hallucinating from trauma and blood loss?
Either way, as it were, you still couldnât wrap your head around the fact that Dracula was currently carrying you in one of his arms.
That, and you werenât fighting or struggling to leave his gentle grip, either.
Perhaps you really did hit your head too hard when âsparringâ your family, and this was some sort of⊠weird, desperate hallucination your brain had cooked up?
Though as much as you wanted to deny it, you knew deep down this was real.
Sure, your brain was definitely a bit hazy, but you knew this was no hallucination.
And that only confused you further.
âWhat has my life come toâŠ?â You couldnât help but wonder to yourself.
Even if your brain was in a bit of a fog, you still remembered what happened clearly.
You had accidentally released Dracula from his stony prison. You werenât quite sure how, but if you had to wager a guess, youâd assume it was most likely your blood.
It was the only explanation you had.
Before today, you had touched the statue before, so it wasnât just touch activated.
The only other conclusion you had was from how your hands had been covered in blood when you had tripped and fallen, landing on the statue to balance yourself.
Your brain was still reeling from it.
Dracula was back. He was alive.
What was more confusing though, was how he was acting towards you.
You had been so certain you were going to die. The injuries you had more or less ensured it.
There would have been no way you would be able to defeat Dracula with the injuries you had.
YetâŠ
He never attacked you.
Instead of mocking you and ending your life, he showed concern.
Your mind was still trying to process it all, his first words on repeat inside your mind.
âWho did this to you?â
Just thinking about it, and how fiery his crimson eyes had been as he asked that question, and how his cold hand had gently cradled your faceâŠ
You could feel your face heating up just thinking about it.
His hand had been so cool against your skin, such a calming feeling despite the overwhelming panic that threatened to choke you.
Ruby eyes had scanned over your body for injuries, clearly not liking what he was seeing. That was something else you were still struggling to wrap your head around.
Dracula had seemingly cared about you. He hadnât even spoken more than five words to you, and he was enraged on your behalf, that much was clear.
âMay I pick you up?â He had eventually asked. You had been too stunned to answer his first question, but this seemingly brought you out of your stupor for a brief moment.
Dumbly, you nodded, unable to really think to say or do anything else.
In all honesty, you were still processing everything then, just like you were now.
Slowly, Dracula made a point to show you both his hands, which were empty.
âIâm picking you up now, alright?â
He moved slowly to avoid startling you, though you still jumped when he slipped an arm under your legs and behind your back, and lifted you with ease.
As he stood to his feet, it was as if you weighed nothing more than a feather to him.
It took everything in you not to panic as he held you, your mind swimming as he held you close to his chest.
Holy hell he was tallâŠ
And his scent⊠you found it odd how you found it almost comforting.
The vampire then turned towards the doors of the throne room, and you had made a small noise.
Pausing, he looked down at you.
You tried not to stumble over your words, shakily pointing to your bag on the floor.
âM-MyâŠâ you tried to speak, the words choking up in your throat. Thankfully, Dracula seemed to catch on to what you wanted.
âOf course.â He spoke, his voice so loud, yet so⊠calm? Gentle?
His voice resonated deep in you, striking you to your very core. It was strange, quiet, yet demanding of respect. Just like his entire presence.
He walked over to where your bag laid on the ground, each step proving just how tall he was. In what would have been quite a lot steps for you, were just a few mere steps for him.
When he approached your bag on the floor, he simply opened his free hand, and your bag flew into it.
You tried not to let your jaw drop, or jump at the easy display of power.
Making sure everything was in order, he began walking through the throne room, passing the massive doors at the entrance.
When he passed through the doors, your eyes widened when you noticed the castle.
It had changed.
The general shape had changed, there were new towers, and it seemed wider than before. Even the courtyard below the stairs leading up to his main tower seemed to look different, with what must have been monsters running around below.
The clouds surrounding the castle were darker, blocking out what little bit left of the day was here. Must be for himself and the other vampires to walk around during the dayâŠ
So it was true. Castlevania really did take different forms each time Dracula was revived.
Dracula continued through into the castle at a brisk pace, his stride long and fast. As he walked through the castle, you couldnât help but flinch back when monsters began passing through.
Some would stop and bow, others would offer Dracula a brief greeting as he passed. You were gobsmacked.
You got plenty of odd looks, but Dracula seemed unfazed and uncaring about any of them. His pace never halted.
Briefly, you wondered where he was taking you. Maybe you shouldnât have let your familyâs arch nemesis pick you up and carry you around without explanationâŠ
He walked through what felt like endless halls, taking many twists and turns, before ending up in a posh hall with several different doors.
The vampire stopped in front of one near the middle, and adjusted your bag before grabbing the handle.
When he pushed it open, you were surprised to see a well kept, beautiful guest room.
Words wanted to leave your mouth about it, but you found they were unable to escape your throat.
You were still just so⊠stunned. It was incredibly difficult to process everything happening.
That⊠and you were starting to grow tired.
How long have you been pushing yourself? Add the trauma, the injuries, and the fact you still pushed yourself to hike to Draculaâs castle on top of itâŠ
Then the fall after an adrenaline rush, and the blood lossâŠ
The wounds on your body were still only badly treated at best. In fact, in that moment, a wave of panic flew through you when you realized the wound on your side was still open.
It wasnât pouring blood like when you had received it, but it was still very much raw.
How long since Dracula had eaten? Was the fresh scent of your blood not enticing to him? Were you being placed in here to be his next meal?
You doubted youâd be a tasty one. Or a filling one, with how low on blood you were. It would be a miracle if you ever recovered from this unscathed at this point.
Internally, you debated on trying to tell him you probably wouldnât be that delicious, but you held your tongue.
Itâs not like you could really trust yourself to speak properly anyway.
Plus⊠you were just⊠exhausted. Accepting your possible fate at this point.
You have no idea why Dracula would treat you this gently in the first place if he intended to feed on you, but hey, you could at least hope it wouldnât hurt.
If anything, it would probably hurt less than the shit you have been through today, let alone the past few years.
Dracula stepping into the room, and shutting the door behind him brought you out of your inner musings.
He was quick, and across the room in an instant.
When he reached the bed, he surprised you again by gently setting you down on top of it.
He was fast, grabbing a box off the dresser on the bedside table you had missed.
After staring for a moment, your brain finally processed it as a first aid kit of some kind.
âŠFirst aid?
The Dracula was going to treat your wounds?
You were in such a fog, it took you a moment to realize he was talking to you.
Scrunching your face up, you finally managed to speak.
ââŠSorry?â You asked, your throat so dry your word almost came out as a croak.
âI need to move your shirt to treat the wound.â He told you again.
Oh.
His eyes werenât nearly as scathing, but still seemed very hot with anger. With closure inspection though, you were able to make out the concern on his face.
Blinking for a moment, you simply nodded your head, and sluggishly lifted your shirt for him.
That was nice of him to ask, you figure.
Dracula didnât hesitate, pressing a rag to your wound to clean it, with some sort of ointment on it. You winced and hissed at the pain, but didnât move.
âYes, good, youâre doing excellentâŠâ he mumbled, a look of concentration now on his face as he proceeded to clean the injury.
Heat rushed to your cheeks as you tried to process his words.
Was he praising you? For not flinching away?
âŠWhy did you like it?
You decided to try and lock those thoughts away at the moment and let future you worry about them instead.
It was hard to pay attention to what he was doing, let alone stay awake. You were really only recognizing pain at this point.
It wasnât until he was wrapping the injury that you notice him finishing up, and moving to your head.
âHold still.â He spoke, and summoned a small orb of light. This time, you flinched, though a hand on the back of your head kept you from moving far.
âWhat-â
Gently, he shushed you, holding the orb a distance from your eyes, looking at your face closely.
Swallowing thickly, you were going to ask what he was doing, before the orb disappeared in a fit of smoke.
âConcussion. Just how long have you been walking around with these injuries?â He asked, his face scrunching up in concern as he looked at the bruising on your head, gently beginning to tend to it.
âUh⊠since⊠this morning?â You rasped, wincing at your own voice.
âThis morning!?â He suddenly halted, looking increasingly upset.
Coughing, you tried to avoid looking at his eyes.
âLive⊠far away. Had to get away.â You whispered, absently rubbing your throat, trying to ignore your heart trying to panic in your chest.
You briefly noticed his muscles tense, before he took a deep breath, and exhaled.
âI see.â
Your heart hammered in your chest, but it lessened a bit. Dracula at least didnât seem mad at you. You may as well take that as a blessing.
Though it made you feel a bit odd, how angry your enemy was on your behalf.
âŠWas he even your enemy at this point? You werenât entirely sure, not with how he finished tending to your head, and moved to the wound on your arm.
What enemies tended to the other, so gentle and careful?
Dracula didnât even have to be gentle with you to take care of your wounds. He could have just done it without a care for your pain.
Yet, he was so careful, using precise movements with each injury to clean and bandage it with as little pain as possible.
Faintly, you remembered reading somewhere he had an interest in medicine. You imagine having eternal life certainly gave you the opportunity to learn and study any subject that came to mind.
A stinging pain brought you out of your clouded thoughts. Dracula had moved to your leg, carefully cleaning the wound there now for stitching.
You couldnât help but stare.
Not only did he treat your wounds with precision, he looked beautiful doing so.
His hair beautifully cupped his face, while his hands worked expertly to stitch the injury.
It wasnât a surprise, per se. Vampires had always been hauntingly beautiful. Part of the charm and the allure for prey.
But seeing Dracula alive in front of you, his hair cupping his face as it laid in waves on his shouldersâŠ
Oh yeah. You had definitely lost a lot of blood if this is what you were thinking about.
A few moments of silence passed as you watched him.
What now? What will you do after heâs done?
Your blood felt cold at that thought.
You licked your lips.
ââŠâ
Draculaâs eyes flickered up to you when you made a small noise.
âAmâŠâ you spoke out, swallowing thickly in an attempt to wet your throat and swallow your nerves.
âAm I⊠a prisoner?â You asked, heart beginning to pound. However, you didnât move, or even tense up.
It's not like you could do anything if you were, anyway. Not with these injuries and how exhausted you were. You were rescind to your fate.
Though you at least hoped he would be honest if he intended to keep you as a blood bag or something.
Draculaâs eyes bore into yours.
âNo. You are my guest.â He spoke, his voice low and quiet.
Your eyes widened slightly.
A guest? You, a Belmont, as Draculaâs guest?
âGuest?â You repeated, almost unbelievingly.
He let out a noise of acknowledgement.
âYou may leave at any point. Everyone is under orders not to attack you, unless you strike them first.â
His words, despite being so quiet, rang loudly in your ears.
You could leave at any time.
For some reason, just hearing those words relaxed you. Your body seemingly slumped in response, loads of tension leaving your body.
Dracula let out a pleased noise from his throat, at least, you think it was a pleased noise.
You just hoped he was being true to his word.
Did Dracula have any reason to lie? If he wanted you dead, he would have killed you the moment he was freed.
If he wanted you as a blood bank, you imagine he would have told you. He seemed like the type to mock you about it if that was his true intention.
You were so lost in thought, you almost didnât hear knocking on the door.
A moment later, a maid walked in, carrying what looked like clothes.
âHere you are, my lord.â She spoke, and you eyed her warily.
You had heard about Dracula having servants. It was weird to see one now though after seeing an empty castle for so long.
She was short, with short black hair, but you knew she wasnât human. Her purple eyes that glanced over at you were a dead give away.
It wasnât clear what she was, but it didnât matter in the end. She placed the clothes nearby on the bed, and gave Dracula a bow before leaving.
You eyed the clothes, before nearly jumping when Dracula spoke again.
âThey are for you. I imagine you wouldnât wish to sit in bloodied cloth.â
Blinking, you looked down, and winced.
He wasnât wrong. Your clothes were trashed.
Parts of your outfit were shredded and cut, and the rest was soaked and crusty with blood.
Gross.
Though it made you wonder just how much willpower Dracula had for your blood soaked clothes not to be a bother.
Still⊠you were kind of touched he had requested clothes for you. You had no idea when or how he had done so, but given he didnât have to do that, it was very considerate on his behalf.
It seems he must be serious about you being a guest, including taking care of you.
A weird thought to think about.
Though you were having many of those at the moment.
He was finishing up your stitches, when you decided to try and speak.
âU-UmâŠâ you began, and quickly turned away to cough, cursing how sore and tired you were.
You turned back, and his eyes were on you again.
âThank you.â You managed to say, trying desperately to come off as sincere despite the situation. You really did mean it, but the circumstances were definitely odd.
Draculaâs eyes seemed to flicker with an unknown emotion for a moment, before he turned back to your leg.
âOf course.â
It seemed like he wished to say more, but held back from doing so. Dracula was the one patching you up though, so you didnât exactly wish to push him.
Not a moment later, he finished wrapping up your leg, and gathered the supplies and began to put them away.
When he stood up, you found yourself craning your neck to see him again, his eyes piercing into your own. This time though, they didnât have as intense of a hellfire look as before.
You still felt incredibly small compared to him. It was hard to register just how massive and powerful this guy was, just from standing up straight.
âDinner will be brought to you shortly. I highly recommend you rest before and after eating, if you can stomach it.â
He then gestured to a door in the room.
âYou are welcome to use the roomâs facilities as need be to clean yourself. If you require anything, tell the guards outside, and they shall let me know.â
Why did his voice have to sound like that? You found yourself growing so sleepy just from listening to it, from how deep and calming it was.
You really needed to rest if you were growing attached to this manâs voice.
Still, you gave him a nod, putting your hands in your lap.
âThank you. IâŠâ
You cleared your throat with a wince.
âI appreciate it.â
He nodded to you once, before turning and walking towards the door.
âI will return later to check on you after I have my affairs in order. Though if you do wish to leave, you may do so.â He spoke right before opening the door, reminding you once more you were not trapped.
You were still free to leave at any point.
After that, he left, the door closing on its own by some unseen force behind him.
You blinked, then blinked again.
âI⊠am so tired.â You whispered, your thoughts feeling like mush at the overwhelming day you have had. At this point, it was as if you were going numb, unable to properly react.
It was almost worrying how calm you felt.
But you were still so tired.
You glanced over to the pile of clothes, and looked them over. They seemed normal enough, a white button up and some loose pants.
With a yawn, you grabbed the clothes, and headed to the bathroom to clean up and change, barely registering how the clothes seemed to be the perfect size.
You didnât hear the thump from outside the room.
Outside your room, Dracula had collapsed against the wall of the hallway.
Pressing his back against the wall, he clutched one of the bloodied bandages in his hands, shaking.
He lifted the bandage to his face, and held the cloth close, inhaling the sweet scent of your blood.
His Little Belmontâs blood.
It was both calming, and addictive. It took all his will power not to have a taste, lest he barge into your room for more.
He was hungry. Too hungry.
But your health came first. You looked to be on Deathâs doorstep when you had walked into his throne room earlier, and he couldnât sit by and do nothing.
Not now that he was free.
Taking another deep breath, he clenched the bloodied bandage in his hand, before putting it away in one of his pockets.
He needed to feast, and soon.
Sparing one more glance at the door, he sighed.
This isnât how he had imagined gaining his freedom once more, but he was thankful it didnât include your death.
For now though, he had plans to make. You obviously werenât injured from a hunt, the look in your eyes said as much. No doubt you could have easily mentioned what beast it would have been that had attacked you if it were that simple.
No, someone had hurt you. Presumably someone you knew.
His eyes narrowed before he took to the shadows, ordering one of his servants for a drink as he reappeared and sat on his newly remade throne.
Someone hurt his Little Belmont.
As much as he would hate to admit it, he had grown attached to you.
Attached, and dare he say, protective.
He had always been protective of his things that were precious to him.
As of now, you were no different.
You had somehow wormed your way into his undead heart, simply from being yourself.
A servant stopped by, and handed him a filled wine glass, before bowing and leaving.
Taking a sip, Dracula enjoyed the burn of blood down his throat, before leisurely swirling the glass as he mused about this situation.
Yes, you were too much like Leon for your own good. He would keep you to your word, and talk with you later.
After you had healed, of course.
Your health was his main priority. Dracula wouldnât put that pressure on you when it was clear you were barely hanging on by a thread.
Dracula would have some potions made for you as soon as possible. Unfortunately, it was a lengthy, and delicate process with alchemy. It would take take time, even for him.
But you needed it, badly.
It was obvious you were overwhelmed. No doubt from whatever happened, accidentally reviving him, and him trying to take care of you.
Putting more pressure on you at the moment would lead to possible rash decisions. He wanted you to be able to think clearly when having an in depth discussion, after all.
Taking another sip of his drink, he licked his lips.
Dracula had a feeling things were going to be interesting.
He just hoped it was for the better, rather than for the worst.
Love That Bites Pt. 11
Hi! Here's part 11 to my Dracula x Reader series! I apologize for the huge delay, I've had a lot going on IRL, so I haven't has as much time/energy to write as I would have liked. Still, I hope you enjoy! I hope to have more happen in the next chapter as well, hopefully some action! Summary: Dracula finally manages to get things running somewhat smoothly, only to run into a snag when it comes to the potions he's had made for you. Thankfully, it isn't as big of a setback as it could be, so long as he can see you beginning to heal. During all of it, he begins to recognize some old feelings...
CW: Injury mention, death mention, brief description of injury, thoughts of murder,
Word Count: 6244 Words!
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Tag List: @pumpkinvampie, @bethleeham, @mshope16, @sixsixtwenty, @haleypearce, @rvautomatic, @tinystarfishgalaxy, @marshmelloe, @maorizon, @ursamajor17, @sapphicsfordracula, @dame-sunflowers, @sleepyendymion, @starrlo0ver, @onewiththebeanbag First: Here! Last: Here! Next: ? - - -
Dracula was beginning to wonder just how you had managed to survive so long on your own.
He wasnât doubting your skills. In fact, Dracula could tell from a glance you were a powerful fighter, much like your ancestors had been. He wouldnât be surprised if you were one of the strongest Belmonts yet.
No, he was concerned over how you seemed lacking when it came to taking care of yourself.
Sure, you had bandaged yourself on the way to his castle, and he was thankful you seemed to have some sort of survival instinct.
But he noticed you didnât put in too much effort though in your own health overall.
It wasnât just from how you came to his castle recently, but something he had noticed long before he had been freed.
After the first few times he saw you, it was clear to him. You would briefly mention your headaches, and your homelife, how you just âdealtâ with it.
You had mentioned to him in a joke how even though you had been sick at one point, you just pushed through it while sleeping in your car for a week.
He couldnât ask you at the time why you did such things, being trapped in stone. Now, he felt it would be counterproductive to ask you. Not until you were comfortable around him.
But it was a horrifying thing you mentioned offhandedly while eating a sandwich, and you refused to elaborate. Why would you put yourself through that?
Add that to his mental list of reasons why he had to investigate your home life. If anything, that was blatantly unhealthy. How the hell was your immune system putting up such a fight on its own if that was how you handled being sick at your home?
How did you handle most injuries before you met him? A part of him really did not wish to find out, but he couldnât help but feel the desire to know.
Dracula was at least thankful you mentioned a small cabin once. After you had mentioned it while he was stone, you realized what you had said, and were quick to try and change the subject. You had not meant to tell him about it, it seemed.
But he was thankful at least that you had a small place nearby to rest.
At one point throughout the day as he checked in on you, he briefly considered going to see this cabin, or sending a scout to see where it was. However, he dismissed this idea almost as soon as he had thought it.
Youâd no doubt be upset if you found out he had done so, and he would be willing to bet you had traps all over the land leading up to your small sanctuary away from your home.
It was only logical to assume so. You had found his castle nearby your own property.
Something he didnât fail to see irony in. Of course his castle would choose a place nearby a Belmontâs property.
Still, if it had been him in your situation, he would have placed traps on top of traps once finding out such a thing. Sending an underling was just asking for it to either be captured, destroyed, or injured. Or for such information to spread to less enthusiastic minions who were disgruntled about your stay here.
No doubt when you inevitably left, you would check the traps, or at least notice one out of place, if not finding a dead monster's remains on your land. Dracula couldnât afford to have you lose trust in him just because he was curious.
Yes⊠Dracula would wait, and put his patience to the test. Heâd try to get you to open up to him, and show him yourself.
You already were showing you didnât detest him, something that was bringing an old warmth to his cold heart.
Heâd even wager you opened up to him just a little earlier, when you had mentioned your injuries had been from something personal.
Sure, it wasnât a large amount of information, but it was progress.
Now, he just had to keep this progress going forward, something Dracula knew was not going to be smooth sailing as he had hoped. There was already unrest in the castle, he could just feel it.
No one had said anything to him, but Dracula was more in tune with his castle and its magic than people gave him credit for. Every being here had energy that was woven with the castleâs in some way shape or form.
And people were anxious.
Some were restless, some were afraid. Many were irritated.
A Belmont being treated as a guest? He knew it would only be a matter of time before someone or something acted out.
Dracula just hoped it wouldnât be at your expense. He could clean any other mess as need be, but he wouldnât stand you being injured further.
Alas, he couldnât act unless someone else acted out first, or he could see they were planning something that involved you. Dracula, loathe as he may to admit it, would only cause more unrest by acting too hastily.
That was fine though, he could bide his time.
The only thing that had him on edge was your current injuries. Or rather, he didnât want you fighting with your injuries and making them worse, especially after your healing has been progressing nicely.
Speaking of which, You were healing incredibly quickly. If it wasnât for your lineage, he would have guessed you had some sort of distant supernatural blood in your veins, such as vampirism.
Still, even though you were healing at an impressive rate, it still wasnât enough. Your injuries by all means could have killed you, and they were still deep and fresh.
His fingers tapped on the wood of his desk in his study, concern no doubt etched clear on his features.
Those potions should be finished today, or at least the first batch of them. The stronger type usually required a longer amount of time to simmer for better healing effects. Time though, was not something he could afford, so a batch of the regular sort would have to do.
Of course, heâd have to thoroughly check them himself after his alchemists were finished. He had not explained who the potions were for when he had ordered it to be done, but now, there was no doubt in his mind the ones creating the potions knew it was for a hunter.
Unfortunately, he couldnât even trust most of his underlings with this. Even his more trusted ones, he was going to be forced to keep an eye on.
The chances of his alchemists messing with your potions were low, but not impossible. Thankfully, he knew potions very well after studying them centuries ago. Dracula was confident he could catch any âunneededâ ingredients that might slip in the finished batch.
However, he hated that he would have to check.
âHow bothersomeâŠâ he mumbled as he pressed his face into the palm of one of his hands.
Looking for poison itself wasnât the issue, itâs something heâll gladly do. It was the fact this would mean it would take longer to get the potions to you that irritated him.
If the potions were tampered with, like he worried they might be, heâd probably have to make them himself. Something he would also do without pause, but again, he didnât wish for you to stay injured any longer than necessary.
Dracula rubbed his eyes for a moment, wondering how he had grown so protective of you like a mother hen.
The last time he could remember fretting over someone, was whenever his late wife had gotten sick, or when his son fell ill once or twice.
Back before everything fell apart.
He sighed, feeling another migraine coming on. It wouldnât do well to think of that now. The less distractions, the better.
At least one good thing came from this. You were receptive to him checking in on you. Dracula doubted you would trust any of his underlings to do it, or at least any of them bringing you meals.
Not without him there to supervise, it seemed.
It was small, but that amount of trust you had in him was a lot for the circumstances.
Dracula felt another sigh escape his lips, and he ignored the temptation to lay his head on his desk like a daydreaming school boy.
What were you doing to him? Had the Great Dracula really fallen for a Belmont?
His eyes widened slightly at his own thoughts.
Fallen? No. Though he detested the idea of admitting he had a schoolboy crush.
He could at least admit he felt fonder for you than some human teenager just figuring themselves out, thank you very much.
Deep down however, thinking about this unsettled him.
Dracula cared for you. He could admit that in his head whole heartedly. Somehow, the Little Belmont had wormed their way into his cold, dead heart without even trying.
But he feared to think about what that meant for him. His life. His future. Your future.
The trust between you two was rocky, but it was there. Could he really push to have you trust him more? Was that really a future he could hope for? Try for? To even care about?
Was it even worth it?
Dracula ran a hand through his hair, and debated summoning another glass of blood to sooth the migraine he could already feel forming in his temples.
Himself and your family had been doomed to fight for centuries. Would even trying to open up the possibilities of at least a friendship be very wise?
Looking from the outside, it seemed like something doomed to fail.
So why did he want to try?
His fingers began to thrum idly on the desk again.
The answer was still the same as before. It was you.
You were different. Different from most Belmonts.
Was wanting to bet on that difference really worth the possible pain? Heartbreak? Potential agony?
Vladâs eyes drifted over to a portrait that hung in his private study. One depicting his precious Lisa.
Lisa had been worth it, even if his time with her had been so cruelly cut short. He knew her time with her would have been limited, as she had wanted to stay human. It was one of the things that had made her so precious.
One of the few things he regretted was not being there for her when she needed him most. Probably one of his biggest regrets, alongside not being next to Elisabetha when she passed back when he had been human.
So perhaps⊠This too, would be worth it.
He could not deny that this was a golden opportunity. If, by small chance, he could change fateâŠ
Perhaps he would not have to suffer being killed once more, and this damned cycle between him and your family could finally break.
Dracula was no fool. He was sure this cycle affected your family just as much as it did him. Ever since Leon, almost every Belmont has had to learn to fight creatures of the night. Either to be a hunter, or to avoid simply being the prey.
No doubt not every Belmont liked this, and judging from the small glimpses of your home life he has seen, the Belmont clan seems to have fallen into disrepair.
There was a darkness in your eyes when you spoke about your home, one that had him worrying all over again.
That was something else he was going to have to focus on. Your life at home.
Given that your clan was full of vampire hunters, even if he did by chance get your homeâs location, he doubted himself or any of his underlings would be able to get too close. Surveillance wouldnât be an easy option, or most likely would not be an option at all.
Unless, of course, your familyâs home and protections have also deteriorated. Perhaps getting close to the home wouldnât be as big of an issue.
But alas, he wouldnât risk most of his underlings finding your home like that. He has a few he trusts, sure, but he couldnât in good faith let most of them know where you lived.
All it would take is one slip up, and your home would no doubt be swarmed. Even if it wasnât monsters from his circles, it wouldnât take much from other groups to learn and decide to exterminate you en masse.
Even if no one could penetrate your homeâs defenses, it wouldnât be hard to stage an ambush to have you assassinated the moment you left your property. Or anyone else that lived with you.
Draculaâs eyes narrowed at that thought. Oh, how that was tempting, just to see those who may have hurt you torn to shreds.
But he had to wait. Heâd have vengeance for you one way or another.
Before he could contemplate who he had to murder, he heard a brisk knock at his door. Crimson eyes narrowed, and with his mask slipping back into place, he sat back in his chair.
âEnter.â
Large doors to his study creaked open, and one of the alchemists he had working on your potions stepped into the room. A young man who had answered the Castleâs magical call for power and safety.
The young man before him tried not to tremble under his gaze, barely making eye contact before looking at a different part of the room. Dracula had to hold back an annoyed sigh.
A shame those who could create potions were few and far between, leaving him with such a sniveling fool. At least he could get the job done, along with the few others he had working under him.
âIs the task I set for you and the others finished?â he asked, thrumming his fingers against the desk once again, a bored look on his face.
Swallowing nervously, the alchemist nodded, before remembering he needed to speak.
âY-Yes, milord. The first batch of potions has finished, butâŠâ
Dracula raised an eyebrow. He was already nearing the end of his patience.
âBut?â
The young man flinched, and the vampire tried not to roll his eyes.
âIâm afraid, ah⊠this batch wonât be that potent, due t-to us having to rushâŠâ
As if Dracula didnât already anticipate that.
No matter though. What was important was getting you something to fend back the majority of your injuries. Even if it is just enough to help you fight infection and mend a few patches of skin, it was better than nothing.
âIâm aware of the effect of making potions on such short notice. Is that everything?â
For a split second, the alchemistâs heartbeat spiked, and he avoided looking at the Vampire Lord. Dracula forced his face to remain neutral.
How curious.
âThatâs everything, sir.â
Almost immediately, the shadows in the room crawled forward, and the temperature dropped a noticeable amount.
Dracula stood up from his chair to his full height, and leaned over his desk. His claws dug into the wood, and his eyes grew black and red.
âTell me, Alchemist, why are you lying to me?â
A squeak left the young manâs lips, and he physically shrunk in on himself. No one wanted to be on Draculaâs bad side.
âI donât tolerate liars in my court.â
The Alchemist fell backwards onto the floor in a scramble, and shuffled backwards a few feet. The door magically shut behind him, and he looked as if he were to faint.
Dracula felt the air grow heavy around him, and the pathetic man in front of him began to pant and shake.
âNow, what is it you are hiding from me?â
The threat was clear as day. Should the young man in front of him lie, or do something foolish, he would not live to see tomorrow.
Swallowing thickly, the Alchemist shakily stood to his feet.
âI⊠As I was finishing up my batch of potions, I overheard a few of the witches talking.â
Dracula had the tension in the air lesson to a degree. The boy in front of him was willing to speak, so he may as well not make it too difficult, lest the coward faint.
Though he made sure his displeasure was apparent.
âGo on.â Eyes darted between him and other parts of the room, the Alchemist shrunk in on himself further before speaking.
âI⊠I overheard them talking about how they think the hunter has bewitched you. That the hunter is going to kill you, and everyone involved.â
Dracula wanted to scoff. Just mild gossip. He wasnât surprised it was already making the rounds, though heâd have to keep an eye on it lest it fester into something unmanageable without conflict.
Rumors and resentment building would only cause unrest, and the less he had to deal with, the better.
âAnd just who were the witches who were discussing this?â The man swallowed. âI donât know.â âSo you didnât think to get a look on who it might be?â He shook his head, fingers twitching idly.
âNo sir. ButâŠâ
Dracula could feel the throbbing in his temples. Perhaps he should summon some wineâŠ
â...The witches talked about wanting to do something before it was too late.â
Now that caught Draculaâs attention.
âThey what?!â
The Alchemist winced, though straightened up a little now that Draculaâs ire wasnât entirely directed at him.
âI-I have no evidence, nor was I able to follow them, but- I think some of them might be planning something, sir.â
The roomâs temperature dropped further, and at the moment, the Alchemist felt like his soul left his body.
Dracula was well known for his fury.
How his anger was icy, yet his fury ran hot.
âPlanning something?â
His voice was low, in a way that was like a growl. Like a predator readying to bite down on the neck of its prey. It was inviting, yet it had the survival instincts of anything around him screaming to run.
The wind picked up around the castle, and lightning began to strike across the clouded sky. The flashes of light only seemed to emphasize the anger on his face.
Briefly, The King of the Night hoped you werenât bothered by the pick up of the storm. Surely youâd notice the change in atmosphereâŠ
But that was something he could check in with you later.
âAnd do you happen to know just what they might be planning? Or which ones it even was?â
Draculaâs mind was beginning to work overtime. Which witches lingered near the Alchemy lab? He's going to have to do a sweep it seemed, and soon. At least Castlevania would give him some insight should he ask for it.
If some of his underlings were already conspiring against himâŠ
The boy in front of him was eerily silent, and Dracula held back from snapping. Killing the fool wouldnât solve any of his issues, especially as he needed him for now.
Then, a thought suddenly hit Dracula, and he sat back into his seat, his claws growing sharper.
âBoy, where is the finished batch of potions?â
The Alchemist froze for a moment, taken aback by the sudden question.
âUm⊠In the labs?â
Draculaâs eyes sharpened, almost glowing red.
âAnd is there anyone or anything protecting the finished batch of potions in the labs?â
âAhâŠâ
Running a hand across his face, Dracula fought the urge to kill something.
He was going to need that drink before visiting you.
â
Much to Draculaâs disappointment (and hidden fury), it was just as he had expected.
He had decided to check on the batch of the potion himself after that conversation, just to be sure it hadnât been tampered with.
It was something he was already going to do, but now it was incredibly important to do so after hearing what the Alchemist had to say.
Just as he had feared, the main batch that had been left out had indeed been soiled.
The potion itself was a darker blue than it should have been, a first tell that something wasnât quite right. Then there was the smell.
Potions already smelled a bit bland, with a hint of bitterness to them. However, he was able to catch the scent of something almost sour.
The texture itself was also a bit⊠thick. Closer to a cream rather than the liquid form it was supposed to have.
Dracula felt his brow twitch with thinly veiled disdain.
With a sigh, and barely hidden rage, he ended up banishing the whole batch. No point in taste testing when he could already smell the signs of tampering. The only thing he would be able to get out of a test would be what ingredients specifically had been added, but there was no point. Not when he already knew the results.
It seems he would have to keep a closer eye on things than he thought.
Even if the alchemists and potioneers he had working on this were as trustworthy as they could get, it seemed that there was only so much he could do before the rats began to poke their noses where they didn't belong.
As much as he hated to section off parts of the lab, it seems he would have to until you were healed, or he found all the idiots involved who dared try and pull a fast one on him.
Thankfully however, not everything was lost.
Dracula was thankful that moment for employing several alchemists to the lab for different batches of potions. He could just take from those, since they would have a similar effect.
The other alchemists were to keep working on different batches of potions, so he could have stronger ones brewing while the first batch was finished. This meant there would be less powerful ones, sure, but he would simply have more made.
What mattered was getting this first batch to you.
You may be healing relatively quickly and well, but he was quickly growing to dislike seeing you injured.
The shadows under your eyes, and how sunken in your face looked, added to your winces of pain⊠He hoped that he could help with that by taking care of your wounds.
It would be a long journey, he was sure. No doubt it would take more than just healing your injuries to actually have you looked⊠alive.
That was what had his cold, undead heart beating worriedly in his chest.
You didnât look like you were living.
Sure, your blood pumped, your heart still beats, but you didnât have a happy light in your eyes. Dracula could mistake you for one of his minions with how those eyes alone looked.
He was thankful though, seeing a spark in them. It was subtle, and only showed up on occasion.
However, he found himself yearning to protect it.
Ha. Him. Lord of the Night. King of all Vampires, wanting to protect his own supposed enemy. Even more so, with such⊠feelings developing.
Dracula still wasnât sure whether to find it amusing, or pitiful.
The beast in his mind that he had embraced so long ago surprisingly didnât fight him on it. At first, it had called him pathetic the first time he found himself wanting to help you.
But that same beast had quickly done a 180, quickly growing to respect you much like his logical side had.
And oh, how it had quickly grown protective.
Dracula felt his lips almost twitch upward at the thought, feeling the very same protectiveness stir in his soul as he approached your door.
He gave a brisk knock at the door, casting a brief glance to the living armors he had stationed near your room. Stone still as always.
After a brief moment, he heard your voice, telling him to come in.
Carefully he opened the door, and it was as if a weight was lifted off his chest just seeing you. The way you subtly perked up when seeing him, sitting up in your bedâŠ
He tried not to let his pride get to him, how it was him that you were sitting up for.
âOne step at a time, Vlad.â
The scent of your blood though soon quickly caught his nose, and he felt himself stand straighter as he walked quickly to your side.
âYour injuries⊠did one re-open?â He was quick to ask, internally scolding himself when he felt the urge to have a taste.
For a Belmont, your blood was still such an intoxicating scentâŠ
Sheepishly, you looked away from him after he arrived at your side.
âAh⊠I fell on the way to the restroom. I accidentally pulled some stitches open, but I got the wound under control.â
If he had been a human, he would have sworn you were trying to give him a heart attack at this rate. How was it you were such a trouble magnet?
Gently, he leaned over you, his hands hovering over where your shirt was. Underneath, he could already smell the irritated wound and fresh blood.
His eyes met your own.
âMay I?â He asked, desiring to see how bad it had gotten. His voice was soft and tender, not wishing to push you or make you uncomfortable.
You froze for a moment, and a glimmer of emotion passed in your eyes. However, it left as quick as it came, and you carefully pulled your arms up to give him access.
Even now, Dracula was still incredibly impressed with the trust you were giving him. If this had been any of your ancestors, or any hunter, really, he would no doubt be in a fight.
Gently, his cool hands brushed against your warm skin as he lifted your shirt upwards to see the bandaged wound. He pointedly ignored the shiver you have, no doubt his cold hands most likely the cause.
At least, thatâs what he told himself, also ignoring how you tensed slightly. Or how he heard your pulse pick up as he got closer.
It was not the time to let his mind wander and theorize.
Dracula would give you credit, though. Your pain tolerance wasnât anything to scoff at, and you were taking everything in stride, even now.
He removed the bandages with a gentle ease, and immediately internally stomped down the sudden hunger he felt.
The fresh scent of your blood still somehow managed to drive him crazy, even when he wasnât starving.
To think heâd find a Belmontâs blood so appealing?
It took a bit of his will power to calm himself, before continuing to look at the wound. Pursing his lips, he let out a hum.
His hands held your midsection still as he observed the new damage, ignoring your sharp intake of air.
âApologiesâŠâ He mumbled, knowing full and well his hands were most likely even colder the closer they were to your feverish flesh.
âNo worriesâŠâ You breathed, your voice small. His eyes flickered up to your face, and your own were wide as you watched him. Still vigilant, even now. Cute.
Eyes back on your wound, he felt a bit of relief. Thankfully you hadnât torn open as many stitches as he had feared, and you had cleaned the wound up well.
It seems getting rest and meals was helping you both physically, and mentally. You werenât hanging on a thread, wrapping wounds with little regard to your life now.
Really, he shouldnât be surprised. Even if he was worried about how you thought of yourself and your health in general, you of all people would know how to properly wrap a wound when in good conditions to do so.
After a moment, he pressed the bandages back onto your injury, and stepped back.
âDespite several stitches being pulled, it could have been worse.â
You pull your shirt down, and smile sheepishly.
âThatâs good. It didnât look too bad, but Iâm glad you agree.â You spoke, rubbing the back of your neck a bit nervously.
It seemed you were still on edge, though he didnât mind too much.
He looked you over for a moment as you fixed your shirt. You really were looking better than when you first arrived. Even from when he saw you this morning, you seemed to be improving.
At least, he was definitely thankful you no longer looked like you were dead on your feet.
Clearing his throat for a moment, he nearly smirked at how you almost jumped. Most would have missed how your muscles tensed, though he decided to count the fact he wasnât outright scaring you a plus.
âI have something for you.â
Immediately your interest was piqued.
How you subtly leaned towards him and tilted your head, you were curious.
âYou do?â
He stepped back for a moment, before holding out his hand. In a flash of smoke and light, a bottle appeared in his hand.
As he held it out to you, your eyes widened as you gently took it from his grip.
âA potion? You really made some?â
Dracula crossed his arms a bit in pride as you looked over the bottle.
âOf course. Youâll find I am not fond of breaking promises, or going back on my word.â
You took a moment to look over the bottle you now held in your hands, almost disbelieving. Dracula felt a pang of something in his heart. Pity? Worry? He wasnât sure, but he didnât like how astounded you looked over the fact he would get you some basic potions.
âI do apologize in advance. Due to the fact your injuries were severe, I had this made as fast as possible. It wonât heal you completely, but it should heal the worst of your wounds.â
For a moment, you were silent, clearly thinking.
âIf you are worried about it being poisoned-â he began, but you raised a hand to cut him off.
âNo! No, itâs fine. Sorry. I trust it isnât poisoned.â You spoke. After another moment, you pulled the cork off the bottle, and debated if you should take a sip.
âHowever, I do wish to warn you about something.â Dracula said, speaking before you could drink it. He may as well tell you now, before you take a drink. No doubt youâd be upset if he told you after.
You froze, looking at him expectantly.
âYesâŠ?â
Dracula let out a frustrated sigh, a hand coming up to his forehead just thinking about it.
âSomeone has tried to tamper with one of the batches of potions I have commissioned to be made.â
Your eyes widened, flickering to the potion, but he held up a hand to try and calm you before you could panic.
âI tossed that batch out after testing it myself. I can assure you the potion you hold in your hand has been deemed clean by myself personally. That one you hold in your hand was not supposed to go to you today. It was a batch that was supposed to simmer for a few more days.â
âTo become a stronger batchâŠâ You murmured, and Dracula felt a small twinge of pride. He supposes it shouldnât be a surprise you would know such things, given how often you probably used potions in general.
âSo⊠Someone wanted me deadâŠ?â You asked, still eyeing the bottle critically. Draculaâs face turned a bit more sour.
âUnfortunately so. I will not lie to you, having you as my guest has⊠ruffled some feathers. Iâm currently investigating those I believe tried to lace the potion with poison.â
Bright eyes flickered to him, and he caught that look, one of near disbelief.
âWhy? I donât particularly blame them, Iâm a hunter, after allâŠâ You murmured once again, eyes glancing back to the bottle.
âBecause you are my guest. I will not tolerate those who wish to go against my orders, and attempt to kill the company I deemed worthy to keep.â
Dracula wondered if you werenât used to such thoughts, with the way he saw emotions flicker across your face, gone as quick as they came.
Summoning a chair from the side of the room, he sat down, placing his elbows on his knees as he rested his chin over his clasped hands.
âIf you donât wish to drink that potion, I will not force you. It will just take a longer period for you to fully recover. I will not blame you for doing so.â
After all, he just admitted someone tried to use a different batch to kill you. He wouldnât blame you for being careful.
You seemed to think for a moment, and Dracula decided to keep speaking as you thought about it.
âI also wish to officially inform you that unrest is beginning to stir in the castle. However,â Dracula began, taking in your expression of slight alarm, âI once again wish to reiterate something. You are allowed to protect yourself. I will not vilify you if you defend yourself from an attack.â
It was the truth. He had means to see if it was self defense, or a planned attack. He doubted you would attack unprompted.
You look at him a bit confused.
âBut⊠How would you know it was self defense? The monsters who want me dead could just lie as a group, right?â
Dracula felt the corners of his lips twitch upwards. You had clearly been thinking about this, though he could tell it was something that must have weighed on your mind.
Not so much you thinking you could get away with attacking his subordinate, rather, you were worried about being attacked and thinking ahead.
He felt his lips curl into a small, amused smirk.
âI have my ways of figuring out what happens throughout my castle without being present.â
It was through his close connection with Castlevania, really.
Thanks to his connection, he was able to loosely figure out just who had tampered with your potions. Needless to say, it wasnât hard to get the two witches to admit it, with how weak willed they were.
His castle was now a few witches less. Not that it mattered.
It wasnât all of them, he was sure. Dracula still had a bit of investigating to do. The two he disposed of were just the ones who admitted to it, and Dracula could tell more were involved. No doubt he would be busy later looking further into the matter.
Some certainly werenât happy with him, but alas, that was what happened when you attempted to hurt those he was protecting.
You seemed a bit skeptical, or perhaps curious?
âUm⊠Is it through the power of Chaos you can?â
As soon as you asked it, a worried look appeared on your face.
âUh, if that isnât too personal of a question, I meanâŠ?â
He almost wanted to laugh. You were trying to be respectful, unsure if that was too much information to ask for.
âTrying to figure out a way to one up your enemy, hm?â He asked, though his lips ticked upwards in a full grin, clearly teasing you. Dracula could tell that wasnât what you meant.
âNo! Thatâs not what I-! I didnât- fuck, I mean-â
It was adorable how you sputtered, and tried to catch your words to apologize.
âRelax, Iâm only teasing you. Yes, itâs partially through the power of Chaos. Though Castlevania itself is bound to my very soul. Not much gets past me, should the castle alert me about it.â
You instantly relaxed at his words, and seemed to perk up in interest.
Once again, your eyes flickered to the bottle in your hand.
âIs that how you found out the last potion was poisoned?â
Dracula hummed, leaning back in the chair.
âNo. One of my Alchemists alerted me to the fact several witches were discussing how they were⊠unhappy about your presence. I decided to check on the potion early, even if it was finished. I simply had my castle assist me in finding out who had done it.â
Silence filled the room once more. It seemed you were unsure what you wanted to say next.
After a beat passed, you looked back at him.
âThank you, then. For checking. And for giving this to me.â
Your voice was soft, as was your smile.
If Dracula still breathed, he just knows his breath would have caught in his throat.
That was a smile that was worth protecting.
After you thanked him, you brought the bottle to your lips, and began to drink down the potion.
The effect was almost immediate. Even if he couldnât see most of your wounds, he could see how you changed.
You no longer favored one side, leaning oddly to the left. Nor did you hold your arm as close as before. In fact, your body seemed to relax even further, now that the worst of the injuries were finally repairing from the magic treatment.
When you finished the drink, you pulled the bottle away from your lips, a disgusted look on your face presumably due to the taste. You coughed for a moment, and shook your head a bit.
After gathering your bearings, you then looked back up to Dracula, and truly smiled.
For once, you looked happy. You looked alive.
Yes, Dracula thought. Pursuing a future where you two donât have to fight, would be one worth aiming for, just to see you smile once more.
https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/91125733
Omg! This is too adorable!
Just realized I never posted this.
@artsy-jandi @amikartest
I wanted to post this. I had read that Ottoman rule wasn't as most would believe. I am attempting to be even more historically accurate...
So thought I would share..
@artsy-jandi @amikartest
I should imagine Vlad would appreciate this fine crafted mace..
@amikartest @artsy-jandi
Vlad by Naranbaatar Ganbold
âIâm not going to get better without you.â
âAnd I was never going to be better without you.â
ââ
Vlad Dracula Tepes & Lisa Tepes from Castlevaniaâ€ïž
ââ
Follow me on Twitterđ @moonymiw || support me: ko-fi.com/moonymiw
Itâs always âSheâs so prettyâ and âI love her so much.â why is it never âShe was the one thing that justified humanityâs stench upon this planet.â smh
Adrian and Dracula (Castlevania)
đźđđđđđđđđđđ đȘïžâą ăă©ăă„ă©ă»ăŽă©ăă»ăă§ăă·ă„(Dracula Vlad ÈepeÈ)âą ăąăăȘăąăłă»ăăĄăŒăŹăłăă€ăă»ăă§ăă·ă„(Adrian Fahrenheit ĆąepeĆ) // ăąă«ă«ăŒă(Alucard)
[[Inspired by est_cos]]
â
Castlevania + text posts
Dracula and Lisa Tepes
A rendition of Klimtâs âThe Kissâ. These two are killing me. You can get this as prints here.