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I have a spot deep in my heart for ghost!robin x vamp!vlad. Robin dies shortly after vlad moves away, and haunts the empty castle, unsure of why he feels so stuck there.
Happy Autism Acceptance Month! I'm thrilled to have something--many somethings, actually--to share for it. Thank you @autistic-character-month for providing me with an excuse to finally put these ideas on the page!
I've got twelve completed fics for this challenge (don't ask about the other eight that were planned! 😖). Most will consist of just one short, character or relationship-focused scene, meant to highlight an element of the autistic experience. I tried to stay true to both the characters and my own memories of being an autistic teen.
All these stories are for Young Dracula, and most are Robin-centric. To be honest, I don't consider Autistic!Robin to even be a headcanon. It fits too well. Nothing else can so perfectly explain the way he is.
Fandom: Young Dracula
Prompt: Special Interest
Rating: G
Word Count: 1k
Focal Character/s: Robin Branagh
‘—even though vampires can’t cross running water, they can fly over rivers, no problem. So, I’ve been wondering whether that’s due to being in bat form, or if it’s how high up they are that actually matters. Would a vampire bat drop out of the sky if it flew too low? Actually, would they drop out of the sky at all? Is it like hitting an invisible barrier, or is it just painful? Because, technically, they can’t go out into the sun either, but it doesn’t always turn them to dust—not so long as they’re only nicking out for a second. Or, maybe it’s a bit of both, and it does hurt to fly over water, they’re just so high up that it doesn’t hurt that bad—’
‘Enough of that, Robin,’ Elizabeth gently interrupts. She’s sat across from him in an armchair, a teacup and saucer in her hands. ‘Mum hasn’t seen you in months, I doubt she wants to spend the day hearing about vampire.’
Robin’s smile falters, brows knitting in confusion, like he can’t imagine what else anyone could possibly want to hear about. Heledd almost chastises her daughter, but Elizabeth continues:
‘Why don’t you tell her about your new friend?’
Like a switch flipped, Robin’s mood instantly brightens. ‘Oh, right! So, you know the castle on the hill, yeah?’ He nods his own head as he asks, as though trying to prompt Heledd, and leans in closer. ‘Last month, a family moved in from Transylvania. Like, actual Transylvania. They’re awesome! Vlad—he's my best mate, now—he’s the best. His dad ‘as this massive collection of antique books, including some real crackers on the occult—and I can flick through them any time I want. I thought the whole Transylvanian Vampire thing started with Dracula—obviously the modern fictional vampire came from The Vampyre by Polidori, but that bloke was British—but it turns out—’
He keeps talking, and Heledd nods along with a soft, fond smile. She would never admit it out loud—that wouldn’t be proper—but Robin is her favourite grandchild. That’s not to say she doesn’t love the others, of course she does, but there’s something special about him. Something that none of the others seem to have inherited.
When he talks about vampires, he becomes intensely expressive. He speaks loudly and quickly, with more elisions, as if the words are fighting to be the first out of his mouth. Not only do his hands gesture about wildly, but his entire upper body sways, and his head nods, and his knees bounce. His eyes are wide and bright, his face slightly flushed. He talks with his entire self.
And he has a lot to say.
When he talks like this, pressed close to her on the faded green couch of her Llangynidr cottage, she feels like a little girl again—her brother pressed to her side on the wooden bench on their family’s farm. She spent listening to him talk about Sherlock Holmes.
Emyr had known everything there was to know about Sir Arthur Conan Doyle—his life, his work, the intricate world of his characters. It unnerved the local children, especially in a village without a proper library. He’d drag her on trips where they would walk for close to an hour to the bus stop, then spend a couple more traveling, just to track down a particular book. Every new book by or about Doyle would be devoured front-to-back, repeatedly, until another joined his collection, though she was sure he had every word memorised in the first read. Sometimes she’d point to a book on his shelve and ask for the original publication date or where it was printed, just to marvel at the immediacy of his response. He was always happy to indulge her.
As the eldest, he hadn’t needed company to leave the village, and their parents hated when they disappeared together, leaving their farm work unfinished. But he disliked traveling alone, and Heledd was his favourite person to talk to. He was her favourite person in general. She saw a bit of herself in Chloe, in that regard.
‘Robin,’ Elizabeth starts, a note of exasperation in her tone.
‘Hush,’ Heledd chides, ‘let the boy speak. I don’t mind. I used to let your uncle talk my ear off in much the same way.’
Elizabeth shakes her head, but there’s a fondness to it. ‘Uncle Emyr certainly had his quirks.’
‘And they run in the family, now, don’t they?’
‘Uncle Emyr?’ Robin asks.
Elizabeth leans forward to refill her teacup. Robin follows the movement and picks up his own drink, which has been sitting untouched on the coffee table for the past half-hour.
‘You wouldn’t remember my uncle, you were far too young when he passed. Mum has a photo beside the front door is of him holding you on your first birthday,’ her voice turns wistful.
Robin looks pensively towards the entryway, though there’s a cabinet blocking his view. ‘You mean that old bloke with the crazy hair?’
‘Eistein hair,’ Elizabeth laughs. ‘He was an odd man, but so kind—and always up for a good chat!’
‘That he was.’ Heledd sighs. ‘It’s nice to see that the best of him lives on.’ She rests her hand on Robin’s cheek and runs her thumb over his freckles—another thing he inherited from her side. ‘There’s nothing wrong with having passion, dear. Don’t let your mother discourage you.’
‘Mum,’ her daughter huffs, ‘I’m not being discouraging. It’s always so long between visits, and dad will be back with the rest of the brood soon. I’d hate for Robin to get side-track and feel like he wasted the trip.’
Heledd shakes her head. ‘Sharing the things you love, with the people you love, is never a waste.’
Robin smiles. ‘Thanks, nan.’
‘No need, dear. Now, tell me, have you ever read Sherlock Holmes? I’ve got a well-loved collection in need of a new home.’
like I have so many insane thoughts about vlad and robin last name youngdracula. robin grows up to be a tattoo artist and has a studio in cardiff where he tattoos emos with portraits of gerard way and sick goth shit. he has stokely castle on his upper arm and a full back piece of a welsh dragon. he's gay (obviously) and has a gorgeous little mustache and is chubby (IMPORTANT!) and totally and utterly believes bc of the mindwipe that vlad left town bc of a misjudged awful adolescent moment in which he kissed vlad and fucked up their whole friendship and is the reason why they left
vlad spends like five years post canon travelling with talitha trying all kinds of energy healings and trance therapy and I'll be honest definitely partakes in an ahuyasca ceremony or two (and maybe an orgy. or a few.) in an attempt to try and come to terms with literally anything that has happened to him ever and is bisexual but probably isn't ready to think about that all that hard until he starts saying robin's name in his sleep and tal is like. u like boys. go explore that. so on his next trip to report to the high council (bc they make him give a quarterly board report in exchange for ingrid running the council for him) he takes a detour and ends up in stokely where robin is also visiting his parents for the weekend........
thinking about how vlad only hypnotized the branaghs to forget about the whole vampire thing, not about the draculas as a whole.
therefore, robin still remembers vlad and, hopefully, their friendship. to be fair, there probably weren't a whole lot of moments between the pair that didn't have to do with vampirism, but perhaps his brain filled in those gaps. (though, i'm not convinced that he didn't snap out of the hypnosis sooner or later.)
that being said, robin most definitely misses vlad as much as, if not more, than vlad misses him. he was his only friend out in stokely, and then he just kinda vanished? there's no way that didn't tear robin apart. the poor boy would've been inconsolable. that was his best friend. his best and only friend, mind you. the closest thing he has to a companion without vlad is chloe, but she's his sister. siblings can have absolutely unparalleled friendships, but, come on. it's a completely different dynamic. so, without vlad, robin's essentially alone again. he is just that weirdo-goth-freak once more and he doesn't really have anyone who's willing to see past that.
i feel like it's likely that robin never got that closure, at least not for a while. in the optimistic case that he does end up remembering the truth about the dracula family, he might understand why vlad had to leave and go no-contact. but i doubt that would dull the pain much.
can we go back to them being little weirdos together? i miss them.
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