Honestly, the most pleasant surprise ever, being commissioned to write your OTP.
It's based along the same timeline as Consequences/Baby, which are old, old fics you shouldn't read cus they're a hot mess (like, end of 2015 old, I didn't even realise I'd been writing that long). That canon has the Draculas still living in Stokely when the siblings are adults, rather than set in Garside Grange. So, nothing much canon compliant at all - no Chosen One, no Erin etc.
Just some light hearted (incestuous) fluff.
-YD-
Swirling the blood around in her glass and admiring the way the vintage clung to the sides a bit, thick and rich, Ingrid smiled to herself. It was nice to take a moment to herself.
The entertainment was good, too.
"Isaac, get back here!"
"Catch me!"
They were blissfully free that evening to be themselves, the Count and Renfield away in Transylvania for... Ingrid had no idea, she hadn't really been listening after she realised they'd be alone. Vlad probably knew why they were there. And their son Isaac - Ingrid would have picked something more traditional, but Vlad did point out people thought them weird enough, and Isaac would be growing up in Stokely - was tearing around the castle, being chased by his dad.
Vlad doted on Isaac (quite rightly), and Ingrid scarcely admitted it, but the sight of the two together warmed her cold, dead heart. Isaac looked a lot like Vlad, but that was easily explained away as familial resemblance.
He could obviously speed along and catch Isaac in a beat, but it helped tire their little boy out to play the game of 'can't catch me!' they were currently playing. Eventually, Vlad darted along, scooping a giggling, squealing Isaac up in to his arms.
"Noooo!"
Isaac's fourth birthday was coming up, and that meant his parents debating back and forth about Isaac going to breather school soon. Vlad was all for it. Ingrid was not. Vlad wanted him to interact with and be comfortable with humans. Ingrid didn't see the point.
"Why do you pretend to be something you're not? You're a vampire, not a breather."
Vlad looked up from where he'd been watching Isaac nap against his chest.
"Why do you pretend to be someone you're not? Do you want him growing up in the same world that treats you as a second class citizen for being female? Just another mindless, bloodsucking monster? If that was what you really wanted, you wouldn't still be with me."
Ingrid scowled. Why did Vlad have to be so... soft?
The fact he was, in some ways, right didn't matter, not really.
Isaac sniffled, stirring but not waking. Vlad stroked his soft dark hair, gazing down at their son with such blatant love in his face, Ingrid had no idea how anybody didn't notice. Their relationship had continued to go completely unnoticed, because their father paid very little attention to Ingrid, and nobody was surprised by siblings being close, nor Vlad in particular being affectionate toward his 'nephew'.
They'd passed off Isaac calling Vlad 'dad' as him hearing a similar sound - Vlad rhymed with dad, after all! - and seeing Vlad call the Count 'dad' too. Everyone else thought it was a sweet little quirk, not an indicator of an illicit four year sexual relationship between the siblings, or Vlad's actually siring the child.
It would make their unlives a lot easier to just move out of Stokely and go somewhere, but Vlad liked the little breather village, and annoying as it was, Ingrid didn't have it in her to force him out of there yet. His friendship with Robin Branagh was, sadly, still strong, though even he didn't know Vlad to be Isaac's father, though having another mans baby had deterred Robin from constantly trying to chat Ingrid up. Mostly.
Isaac woke up from his nap and halted any debate they were having, wanting a cuddle from Ingrid while Vlad made him something to eat. He looked up with his big blue eyes, full of love for his mother. She adored him in turn, never truly sure she could love anyone quite so strongly before Isaac was placed in her arms as a newborn baby. Now he was much bigger, full of energy and excitement for life. He liked reading and colouring, rolling around in the grass outside when they took him out at night. Isaac only had to say "mama" and Ingrid melted inside, though she'd never admit it.
He was a lot like Vlad. She sighed inwardly, knowing her brother would eventually probably wheedle her in to letting him enroll Isaac in breather school.
"Who wants lunch?"
"Me!"
Isaac threw both his little hands up in the air, bouncing down from Ingrid's lap to run over to where Vlad had cut up vegetables and Isaac's current favourite - peanut butter and jam sandwiches. Ingrid entirely blamed his exposure to American TV shows, because the Count still owned a TV, and despite denying it, he was quite fond of Isaac and would let him perch up in front of the TV sometimes.
"Thanks dad!"
Vlad smiled and ruffled his hair, sitting down next to him to make sure Isaac actually ate his vegetables. rather than play with them and leave a mushy mess behind on the table again like the last time he'd been left to eat without constant supervision.
Ingrid finished her drink, flitting off to leave the glass by the sink before returning to silently watch as Vlad wiped peanut butter from Isaac's face, but otherwise left him to finish picking at his vegetables.
"You gotta ask your mom."
"Daaaad."
"Isaac, she's right there. Ask her."
Confused, Ingrid raised a querying eyebrow at her son. His little face was a picture of panic, and so Ingrid expected some kind of ridiculously unreasonable request.
He wanted to go to the park.
"Only if you eat all your vegetables."
Vlad stifled a snort in his hand, responded to her through telepathy.
"File that under sentences I never thought I'd hear you say."
"Bite me."
Vlad's eyes darkened.
"Gladly."
Ingrid shook off the shiver that sent down her spine, choosing instead to go and change her shoes since Isaac was scarfing his vegetables down like a starving man all of a sudden. The park had grass, and she didn't always have the option of flying over it when Isaac went running off to make a mess of his clothes. Which were another area Vlad often won in, because Isaac had his fathers enjoyment of colours, only wore proper attire befitting the youngest heir of the Dracula clan if he was matching at least one of his parents.
"You want me to take him?"
Ingrid shook her head, lifting Isaac in to her arms. He was used to that particular method of travel, and so he knew to turn his face inward to keep the wind out of his eyes, clutching tight to the front of Ingrid's dress, even though she'd never let him fall. He peered around when the speeding stopped, brightening when he saw the empty park. Vampire children had better night vision than their breather counterparts, even before transforming, so the pitch black sky lit only by the moon and a handful of stars didn't prevent Isaac getting excited when he saw the swing set and slide.
"The upside of midnight jaunts is definitely that there's never any queues."
"Or noisy brats. Go on, you can push him. You enjoy it more."
Vlad beamed, glancing around to ensure they were absolutely alone before he leant in and kissed her, soft and sweet. If she were human, his lips would feel ice cold, but they felt perfect against her own. Ingrid let him, feeling that all-too-familiar warmth pool in her belly even as he pulled away, smirk playing at the corner of his mouth before he walked Isaac over to the swings. Ingrid got close enough to watch, to have Isaac look over at her with his beaming, toothy smile as he squealed and wiggled his arms and legs while soaring (in a very controlled way) through the air on the swing. She had no doubt Vlad would stand there all night, just pushing him gently over and over if it made their son smile like that.
He chased the boy up and down the slide next, held his legs while Isaac scaled his way across the monkey bars. Then it was back for more urgent swinging, a whirl on the little roundabout that Vlad spun with a wave of his hand. Eventually, it had the desired effect - Isaac was both ecstatic and exhausted, yawning in Vlad's arms as Ingrid rejoined them.
"Back home for this little guys nap?"
Ingrid nodded her agreement, and they flitted themselves back to the castle. Zoltan was awake when they got back, and agreed to keep watch over Isaac when he was put down for his mid-night nap - not a nightly occurrence anymore, but if he had a particularly active day, he got a little rest in order to have the energy to keep racing around until dawn. And being able to leave him alone had... other advantages.
Vlad knew how to remove each and every one of Ingrid's dresses carefully but quickly, no matter how tight or complicated they were. Nimble fingers worked each layer away, Ingrid undressing him in turn until they could tumble in to their coffin together. Ingrid liked the weight of him pressing against her, the strength of his pale, muscular arms, the glint of his fangs in the candlelight. She loved the feel of his hands, his knowing touch sliding over her skin. Her own traced the scar on his neck, the one she'd left there, marking him, claiming him as hers for all eternity. Vlad shuddered and groaned, leaning in to her touch.
They laid there for a while after, enjoying the quiet afterglow with no concern of being caught, Vlad's arms around her and his breathing soft against the side of her neck.
"Have you ever thought of making Isaac a big brother?"
His words seemed to appear from out of the blue, softly whispered as they were so close to her ear. Her pregnancy with Isaac had been an accident, the result of ill-advised, regretful trysts, and then he'd been the catalyst that pushed Ingrid to reluctantly acknowledge that she wanted Vlad, and four years later, the decision had not gone wrong for her yet. She was... happy, at her core.
"Sometimes."
She answered truthfully, the occasional flicker in the back of her mind when she saw Isaac playing alone, save for the times Wolfie was there or Zoltan was willing to entertain the boy. That was another of Vlad's pushes for enrolling him in school - socialising with those his own age, which was about the only thing he ever wanted for. Everything else he wanted was his.
"Really?"
"I said I think about it. Not that I wanted to."
Ingrid felt Vlad deflate a little, obviously having got his hopes up despite her short answer before.
"Oh. So, you don't?"
"I didn't say that either."
Vlad blinked. She felt his eyelashes brush her cheek.
"So, what are you saying?"
"I'm saying I've thought about it. I don't know if I'm prepared to go through pregnancy again, to deal with dad and the Branaghs about it all over again or even to have a newborn baby to look after again. And I'm not going to do that just because Isaac sometimes plays by himself, especially since you're so insistent on sending him to breather school to make friends or whatever."
Vlad nodded.
"Ok."
She was surprised, had expected a little more resistance.
"Just... ok?"
Vlad nodded, still holding her.
"Yeah. If you're not ready or interested, I'm not gonna push it."
Sometimes, she forgot just how unvampiric he could be. Vampires never just let things drop. They held grudges for centuries. But there was Vlad, holding her close and nuzzling her shoulder, dropping kisses on her skin like she hadn't just basically shot down his dream of a second child.
Then again, he probably considered Ingrid's dismissive comment about breather school a victory of his own.
"Maaaaamaaaaa!"
Even from several rooms or even floors away, they could hear Isaac call out for them. They reluctantly left the coffin, the little bubble of intimacy bursting as they cleaned up and re-dressed, heading up to their son a moment later. He was thrilled to see them, sleepy smile and reaching hands up for a cuddle from Vlad first, before reaching out to Ingrid too.
"Love you."
He murmured, humming happily when Ingrid kissed his soft dark hair.
"Love you too Isaac."
Vlad offered them both an indulgent, happy smile, and Ingrid was apparently still in something of a good mood, as she agreed to the banality of watching TV, just to sit with the two of them. After he was bored of that, Isaac did some child-level reading with Vlad, ate his dinner without a whisper of complaint before asking Ingrid to tuck him in to bed that night. She agreed rather happily, Isaac likely seeing the softest and most genuine of her smiles in moments like that, more so than anyone else ever would.
"Sweet dreams son."
"I'll do my best!"
He replied earnestly, making her chuckle.
"Strange little bat. I love you."
"Love you too."
He yawned into his hand, burrowed under his covers, the lump underneath moving until Mr Cuddles (the second) popped out too - a gift from Vlad that Ingrid often rolled her eyes at, but Isaac loved it and that was all that really counted, at the end of the night.
Vlad was tidying up the kitchen when she went in search of him, cleaning up after their meals - Renfield's idea of 'clean' didn't actually mean anything got any cleaner, so Vlad often did it whenever their dad wouldn't see, especially when it came to Isaac's things.
"He go down alright?"
"Yes. Insisted he'd do his best to have sweet dreams for me."
Vlad laughed, drying his hands off.
"He's definitely unique."
That was very true.
"I blame you entirely."
Vlad grinned.
"You're softer than you know with him. And he's a lot like you when he's in a bad mood."
Ingrid crossed her arms, leaning against the doorframe.
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
Vlad looked a touch sheepish, but any contrition soon faded.
"He inherited the famous Dracula temper from you, and we both know it. He just happens to have inherited my very unvampiric traits too. Should make for an interesting mix come the teen years."
Ingrid placed a hand over her face, groaning at the thought of Isaac turning in to pre-teen Vlad, in mismatched clothes with vile shades of orange or yellow.
"He's going to be a breather loving nerd, isn't he?"
Cool arms wound around her middle, lips brushing the base of her jaw.
"You like breather loving nerds. Isaac's proof of that."
Shaking her head, Ingrid eventually relented and melted in to Vlad's embrace, unable to help herself, loathe as she was to admit that even to herself.
"With any luck, dads trip to Transylvania all worked out."
"Why is he in Transylvania? Not that I'm complaining."
Vlad raised an eyebrow.
"Do you ever listen to a word he says?"
"No. He never has anything interesting to say."
Vlad snorted, shaking his head before he took Ingrid's hand and led her toward their room. He left her wondering as he undid her dress again, though it was with less of the heat of earlier now, just helping her to get ready for sleep. Patience was something Ingrid had had to develop some skill in as a mother, so she didn't immediately turn around and demand an answer.
"He's looking in to moving back there, now we've got a truce with the Slayers Guild and he's not technically in hiding anymore. I asked if I could keep Stokely Castle, and he agreed so long as you and Isaac stayed here."
Ingrid could have chosen to be angry or upset about how easily her father pushed to be rid of her and her son, but the alternative reasoning inspired happiness, and she followed that thought instead. They could stay there, just the three of them? Isaac could stay in his childhood home, Vlad could carry on with his breather-loving, and Ingrid? Ingrid could...
Though he didn't know it as they laid down in the coffin together, Ingrid snapping her fingers to put out the candles, Vlad's litle tidbit of information had gotten him several steps closer to his dreams of a second child.
-YD-
N'aww, aren't they adorable?