Ikemen Vampire Vlad - Tumblr Posts

Gift wrapping 5

Vlad:

Florists know how to wrap gifts attractively. Each of Vlad's gifts is either arranged like a bouquet or contain some of his most beautiful and rare flowers, or chocolates wrapped like flowers....

Charles:

Charles gifts are elaborately wrapped with many bows, flowers and ribbons. Mostly in pastel colors to stand out from the standard Christmas colors and can be easily found.

Faust:

If this man gives away anything at all, his presents are in boxes that don't reveal what's inside. Wrapped in cloths he finds and decorated with a minimum of herbs from his laboratory. Some herbs beautiful, some beautiful and poisonous.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

disclaimer: english isn't my native language so sorry for any mistakes ^^". Also these pictures aren't mine, they just examples from pinterest.

𝕆𝕥𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

Hello! From now on, i’ll put my fanfics and art in a masterlist, because i want everything organized, haha! Please, do not repost, only reblog! Thank you for reading~

Ikemen Prince Discord Server invitation! (If the invitation doesn’t work, please pm/dm me and i will send a new one! Thank you! Keep in mind that you have to be at least 16/16+ to join the server, due to the game containing nsfw elements!

https://discord.gg/PHThAeZfd8

              ╔═══════ ════ ೋღ⚜ ✾ ⚜ ღೋ ════ ═══════╗

𝕴𝖐𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝖁𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖊

𝓐𝓻𝓽𝓱𝓾𝓻 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓷 𝓓𝓸𝔂𝓵𝓮~

FanFic:

✾ Vincent, Mozart, Napoleon, Shakespeare and Arthur reacting to amazing actress S/O {x fem. reader} Fluff

Art:

✾.

𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓽𝓮 𝓓𝓮 𝓢𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓽 𝓖𝓮𝓻𝓶𝓪𝓲𝓷~

FanFic:

✾ ”The perfect punishment” {x fem. reader} Smut, Fluff

Art:

✾.

𝓘𝓼𝓪𝓪𝓬 𝓝𝓮𝔀𝓽𝓸𝓷~

FanFic:

✾.

Art:

✾ Isaac Drawing/Sketch1

𝓙𝓮𝓪𝓷 𝓭’𝓐𝓻𝓬~

FanFic:

✾.

Art:

✾.

𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓻𝓭𝓸 𝓓𝓪 𝓥𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓲~

FanFic:

✾.

Art:

✾.

𝓝𝓪𝓹𝓸𝓵𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓑𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓹𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮~

FanFic:

✾ Vincent, Mozart, Napoleon, Shakespeare and Arthur reacting to amazing actress S/O {x fem. reader} Fluff

Art:

✾.

𝓞𝓼𝓪𝓶𝓾 𝓓𝓪𝔃𝓪𝓲~

FanFic:

✾.

Art:

✾.

𝓢𝓮𝓫𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓪𝓷~

FanFic:

✾.

Art:

✾.

𝓣𝓱𝓮𝓸𝓭𝓸𝓻𝓾𝓼 𝓥𝓪𝓷 𝓖𝓸𝓰𝓱~

FanFic:

✾ ”Damn you, hondje” {x fem. reader} Fluff

Art:

✾.

𝓥𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓷𝓽 𝓥𝓪𝓷 𝓖𝓸𝓰𝓱~

FanFic:

✾ Vincent, Mozart, Napoleon, Shakespeare and Arthur reacting to amazing actress S/O {x fem. reader} Fluff

Art:

✾.

𝓦𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓪𝓶 𝓢𝓱𝓪𝓴𝓮𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓮~

FanFic:

✾ Vincent, Mozart, Napoleon, Shakespeare and Arthur reacting to amazing actress S/O {x fem. reader} Fluff

Art:

✾.

𝓦𝓸𝓵𝓯𝓰𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓐𝓶𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓾𝓼 𝓜𝓸𝔃𝓪𝓻𝓽~

FanFic:

✾ ”And why would i be jealous of you?” {x fem. reader} Fluff

✾ Vincent, Mozart, Napoleon, Shakespeare and Arthur reacting to amazing actress S/O {x fem. reader} Fluff

Art:

✾.

𝓥𝓵𝓪𝓭~

FanFic:

✾.

Art:

✾.

𝓙𝓸𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓷 𝓖𝓮𝓸𝓻𝓰 𝓕𝓪𝓾𝓼𝓽~

FanFic:

✾.

Art:

✾.

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓮𝓼 𝓗𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷𝓼𝓸𝓷~

FanFic:

✾.

Art:

✾.

              ╚═══════ ════ ೋღ⚜ ✾ ⚜ ღೋ ════ ═══════╝

              ╔═══════ ════ ೋღ⚜ ❁ ⚜ ღೋ ════ ═══════╗

𝕴𝖐𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝕽𝖊𝖛𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓:

𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓬 𝓛𝓪𝓹𝓲𝓷~

FanFic:

❁.

Art:

❁.

𝓓𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓶 “𝓓𝓾𝓶” 𝓣𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓵𝓮~

FanFic:

❁ Dalim Headcanons {x fem reader} Smut, Fluff

❁ Dalim/Dean taking care of sick S/O {x fem. reader} Fluff

Art:

❁.

𝓓𝓮𝓪𝓷 𝓣𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓭𝓵𝓮~

FanFic:

❁ Dalim/Dean taking care of sick S/O {x fem. reader} Fluff

Art:

❁.

𝓔𝓭𝓰𝓪𝓻 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽~

FanFic:

♥ ”Being lazy and in love is the best about dating” {x fem. reader} Fluff

Art:

♥  Edgar Bright Drawing/Sketch1

𝓕𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓲𝓻 𝓖𝓸𝓭𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓮𝓭~

FanFic:

♠.

Art:

♠.

𝓗𝓪𝓻𝓻 𝓢𝓲𝓵𝓿𝓮𝓻~

FanFic:

❁.

Art:

❁  Harr Silver Sketch1

𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓪𝓱 𝓒𝓵𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮~

FanFic:

♥.

Art:

♥ Jonah Clemence&Pine {not the best}

♥ Jonah Clemence2 {not the best}

♥ Jonah Clemence3 {not the best}

♥ Jonah Clemence clock image

♥ Jonah Clemence5 {not the best}

𝓚𝔂𝓵𝓮 𝓐𝓼𝓱~

FanFic:

♥.

Art:

♥.

𝓛𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓽 𝓚𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼𝓵𝓮𝔂~

FanFic:

♥.

Art:

♥.

𝓛𝓸𝓴𝓲 𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓪~

FanFic:

❁.

Art:

❁.

𝓛𝓾𝓴𝓪 𝓒𝓵𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓮~

FanFic:

♠.

Art:

♠.

𝓜𝓸𝓾𝓼𝓼𝓮 𝓐𝓽𝓵𝓪𝓼~

FanFic:

❁.

Art:

❁.

𝓞𝓵𝓲𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓚𝓷𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓽~

FanFic:

❁ ”A start of something new” {x fem. reader} Fluff

❁ ”Mission:Accomplished” {x fem. reader} Fluff, A Bit Angsty

❁ ”To the silly happy-go-lucky girl” {x fem. reader} Fluff

Art:

❁ Oliver Knight Sketch1

❁ Oliver Knight Sketch2

❁ Oliver Knight Sketch3

𝓡𝓪𝔂 𝓑𝓵𝓪𝓬𝓴𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓵~

FanFic:

♠.

Art:

♠.

𝓢𝓮𝓽𝓱 𝓗𝔂𝓭𝓮~

FanFic:

♠.

Art:

♠.

𝓢𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓾𝓼 𝓞𝓼𝔀𝓪𝓵𝓭~

FanFic:

♠.

Art:

♠.

𝓩𝓮𝓻𝓸~

FanFic:

♥.

Art:

♥.

              ╚═══════ ════ ೋღ⚜ ❁ ⚜ ღೋ ════ ═══════╝

              ╔═══════ ════ ೋღ⚜ ♔ ⚜ ღೋ ════ ═══════╗

𝕴𝖐𝖊𝖒𝖊𝖓 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊:

𝓛𝓮𝓸𝓷 𝓓𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓮𝓾𝓻~

FanFic:

♚Family Headcanons (all the characters) {x reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♚Modern Day AU Headcanons (all characters) sfw

♚ Amazing cooker/baker S/O Headcanons (all the characters) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♚ Reactions to a tsundere Mc (Chevalier, Leon, Yves and Clavis) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♚ “Morning kiss” {x reader} fluff

Art:

♚ Happy Birthday Leon sketch

𝓨𝓿𝓮𝓼 𝓚𝓵𝓸𝓼𝓼~

FanFic:

♚ Family Headcanons (all the characters) {x reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♚ Modern Day AU Headcanons (all characters) sfw

♚ Amazing cooker/baker S/O Headcanons (all the characters) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♚ Reactions to a tsundere Mc (Chevalier, Leon, Yves and Clavis) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

Art:

♚.

𝓛𝓲𝓬𝓱𝓽 𝓚𝓵𝓮𝓲𝓷~

FanFic:

♚ Family Headcanons (all the characters) {x reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♚ Modern Day AU Headcanons (all characters) sfw

♚ Amazing cooker/baker S/O Headcanons (all the characters) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

Art:

♚.

𝓙𝓲𝓷 𝓖𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓽~

FanFic:

♚ Family Headcanons (all the characters) {x reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♚ Modern Day AU Headcanons (all characters) sfw

♚  Amazing cooker/baker S/O Headcanons (all the characters) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

Art:

♚.

𝓒𝓱𝓮𝓿𝓪𝓵𝓲𝓮𝓻 𝓜𝓲𝓬𝓱𝓮𝓵~

FanFic:

♕ “5 times Clavis helped Chevalier and 1 where he realised that he didn’t have to do anything at all.” Part 1 {x fem. reader} Fluff

♕ ”Waking Up” {x gender neutral reader} Fluff

♕ Family Headcanons (all the characters) {x reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♕ Modern Day AU Headcanons (all characters) sfw

♕ “Learning Progress”{x fem reader} Smut, nsfw

♕ “Arranged Meeting”{x fem. Princess reader} Fluff

♕ Amazing cooker/baker S/O Headcanons (all the characters) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♕ Reactions to a tsundere Mc (Chevalier, Leon, Yves and Clavis) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♕ The Enchantress’s curse (longfic) {x fem. reader} Fluff, later nsfw, angst with happy ending. (Intro and summary), (chapter 1).

♕"Christmas delight"{x g.n. reader} fluff

Art:

♕.

𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓼 𝓛𝓮𝓵𝓸𝓾𝓬𝓱~

FanFic:

♕ ”Just Another Day” {x fem. reader} Fluff

♕ ”Please, forgive me” {x fem. reader} Fluff, Smut, Crack

♕ Family Headcanons (all the characters) {x reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♕ Modern Day AU Headcanons (all characters) sfw

♕ Amazing cooker/baker S/O Headcanons (all the characters) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♕ Reactions to a tsundere Mc (Chevalier, Leon, Yves and Clavis) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♕ “Hallway fun” {x (fem.) reader} smut, nsfw

♕ “Heartfelt feelings” {x fem. reader} fluff

♕ “To break you apart” {x fem. reader} smut, angst, open ending

♕ Clavis Lelouch x g.n. Reader smut

♕ Kinktober Day 2 (Clavis Lelouch) {x fem. reader} smut (2021)

Art:

♕.

𝓝𝓸𝓴𝓽𝓸 𝓚𝓵𝓮𝓲𝓷~

FanFic:

♕ Family Headcanons (all the characters) {x reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♕ Modern Day AU Headcanons (all characters) sfw

♕  Amazing cooker/baker S/O Headcanons (all the characters) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♕ “Icy night” {x (fem.) reader} Smut. nsfw

♕ “Time to ourselves” {x g.n. reader} fluff, soft suggestive tones

Art:

♕.

𝓛𝓾𝓴𝓮 𝓡𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓵𝓹𝓱~

FanFic:

♕ Family Headcanons (all the characters) {x reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♕ Modern Day AU Headcanons (all characters) sfw

♕  Amazing cooker/baker S/O Headcanons (all the characters) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

Art:

♕.

𝓢𝓪𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓵 𝓝𝓸𝓲𝓻~

FanFic:

♖ Family Headcanons (all the characters) {x reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♖ Modern Day AU Headcanons (all characters) sfw

♖ Amazing cooker/baker S/O Headcanons (all the characters) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

Art:

♖.

𝓡𝓲𝓸 𝓞𝓻𝓽𝓲𝔃~

FanFic:

♞ Family Headcanons (all the characters) {x reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

♞ Modern Day AU Headcanons (all characters) sfw

♞ Amazing cooker/baker S/O Headcanons (all the characters) {x g.n. reader} Fluff, Crack-ish

Art:

♞.

𝓖𝓲𝓵𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓽 𝓥𝓸𝓷 𝓞𝓫𝓼𝓲𝓭𝓲𝓪𝓷~

FanFic:

♛ Kinktober Day 1 (Gilbert Von Obsidian) {x g.n. reader} smut (2021)

♛ Sinful Desire (Gilbert Von Obsidian) {× fem. reader} smut (2021)

Art:

♛ Sketch1

♛ Sketch2, nsfw

𝓚𝓮𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓗𝓸𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓵~

FanFic:

♛ Kinktober Day 4 (Keith Howell) {x fem. reader} smut (2021)

Art:

♛.

𝓢𝓲𝓵𝓿𝓲𝓸 𝓡𝓲𝓬𝓬𝓲~

FanFic:

♛ Kinktober Day 3 (Silvio Ricci) {x fem. reader} smut (2021)

♛A night to drown in you (Silvio Ricci) {× fem. reader} smut (2021)

♛.

Art:

♛.

             ╚═══════ ════ ೋღ⚜ ♔ ⚜ ღೋ ════ ═══════╝

First Celebration , 150+ followers! I will be accepting requests with the prompts for a month or so, but the prompts will be up for those interested in them. The normal requests are always open and i’ll finish those i have in my inbox!

For the list, click on the link here! Thank you~

for the angst ask (thanks for opening them btw) vlad and illness? he waited so long for his mc (gn) just to watch them slowly dying in front of him, their last moments and what that entails? I want to be crushed haha

A/N: Hello anon! I took a little bit of artistic liberty here because I had an idea so its not illness, but rather an accident. The rest of the request is still honored.

CW: death, loss

Vlad x gn reader

Word Count: 1783

A Pureblood vampire has nothing but time. It becomes their only constant, the one fixed thing they can depend on as the world around them evolves and changes. The flow of time brings mighty mountains to their knees and changes the course of rivers. It has seen man crawl, then walk and now, in the late 19th century, begin to run as technology makes leaps and bounds within shorter and shorter time spans. And one sure thing about time: it never stops.

How does one bear the weight of years and decades and centuries? Vlad has found a way. Something that fascinates him. 

People. 

He has loved them with a ferocity sharp and deadly. That their lives are so fleeting, rising like sparks from a fire only to blink out of existence and return to darkness within mere decades, is what makes them precious. Worth fighting for. And he has never loved a human, or any other being, as much as he loves you.

You were the one he waited for. The one who imprinted yourself upon him like a brand, your essence burned into his soul with a heat that never subsided as he waited all those long years for you. And when the time came, when you understood who he was and what you meant to him, when you returned those extraordinary feelings of love and desire, he understood the words Shakespeare had penned when writing his greatest love story: 

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea 

My love as deep. 

The more I give to thee,

The more I have, 

for both are infinite.” 

You gave his world a beauty far beyond that field of roses he holds so dear. Vlad’s heart holds entire universes of love only for you. 

Which is why, when you told him you did not want to be turned, despite the consequence of death, he never once questioned it. He had simply raised your hands to his lips, his claret eyes closing as he pressed a kiss into your skin, accepting your decision. 

And decided then and there he would dedicate every moment you had together to bringing you joy. He would show you the world and in return, give the world the gift of your smile.

Which is why you were in London, exploring the world’s largest city and breathtaking capital of the British Empire. You were staying at Claridge’s, one of the grandest hotels London had to offer, and swept up in the whirlwind of pleasures Vlad had arranged: an outfit tailored just for you at London’s most exclusive boutique, high tea at one of the oldest tea houses in the city, a boat ride on the Thames. As you disembarked, hand in hand, a young boy was waiting with a message for Vlad. A mystery item he had commissioned was finished and would he care to come pick it up or have it delivered to the hotel? His rose-colored eyes had gleamed, his excitement dancing within their depths and along the curve of his lips. He would come right away. When you had asked what this mysterious item was, he had simply smiled softly. You would see soon, beloved. Go, the carriage that would take you back to the hotel was waiting just across the street. He would meet you in the hotel’s salon for supper.

You parted, his smile still warming your heart against the misty London air and you took the time to watch his tall figure grow smaller and smaller as he walked with the young boy down the street, eventually disappearing from view as they rounded a corner. Your heart could not be any fuller, your soul could not be more content. Vlad was the key that unlocked the truth about love: it mattered, more than anything. He mattered more than anything. Loving him had transformed your world into something so perfect it could be called heaven. You were so lost in your starry-eyed thoughts, your mind floating in the clouds on a breeze of affection and anticipation, you did not pay attention as you stepped onto the street.

You did not see the carriage with its spooked horse barreling towards you.

You did not hear the shout of warning.

You stepped out into the street.

And your world went black.

It’s tucked safely into the inside pocket of his jacket, carefully wrapped in the softest black velvet. One look at the pin, a detailed red rose made from the purest rubies with its emerald leaves and curving stem, made by one of the finest jewelers in Europe, and he knew it was worth every cent. It was a work of art and he was proud of the design he had created. He wanted something unique, something custom-made that no one else the world over could have, a symbol of his feelings for you and a sign to all who saw it that you, like the rose, are a rarity worth remembering, a beautiful spirit worth marveling at.

He turns the corner onto the street where you had gone ashore after your boat tour, his mind running through the way he imagines you will smile when he presents his gift, a smile that rivals the sun in all its brightness. All thought however screeches to a halt as he notices the crowd gathered, blocking most of the way. There are police wagons and officers doing their best to keep people away from something on the road. Vlad passes an elderly man sitting on the filthy flat pavement meant for pedestrians, his dirt-streaked face blanched with shock, hands shaking as he tries to drink from a flask. He hears the mumbled words, repeated over and over to no one in particular:

“The horse stepped on a nail. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. It stepped on a nail. I couldn’t stop it. They came out of nowhere. I couldn’t stop it-”

Uneasiness begins to slowly creep down Vlad’s spine like a spider descending on its silken thread. He was planning to walk around the crowd, his long legs swiftly taking him away from the buzzing and gawking of the crowd so he could get to you, his light, his love, and make sure you were ok. He will never be able to answer why he didn’t stick with this. Why instead of walking around the crowd, his feet begin taking him through it. 

Each step feels like the earth is trying to stop him, gravity is desperately pulling at his legs, trying to slow him. His feet feel like they are made of granite, dragging along as he shoulders his way through the dense, foul-smelling mass. Each beat of his heart becomes louder, the crowd’s murmuring becomes distorted. Fate has wrapped his heartstrings around her cruel fingers and pulls, forcing him to shamble his way toward a truth that will sunder his very soul.

He breaks through the throng. 

And sees you lying there, your soft hair touching the filth of the street, your head pillowed by hard, uneven cobblestones. 

Someone has thrown what looks like a shabby picnic blanket over your body, but Vlad can smell the blood through the fibers, through the grime of a London street. Your eyes are open, blinking rapidly, your lips trembling as you mouth one word. He recognizes the shape of his name.

“I’m here, beloved.” How he manages to speak through a throat full of thorns is a miracle, another question with no answer. He sinks to his knees beside you, feeling the dampness soak through his trousers, the hard stone biting at him. “I’m here.” You turn your head and the effort that costs you is evident in the flickering light of your beautiful eyes. He reaches out with a shaking hand, the movement slow as if underwater, and manages to brush your hair off of your forehead with infinite tenderness. His fingers are stained red with the blood trickling down your temple. He repeats the motion anyway.

Your breathing is labored and erratic but you refuse to look away, holding his gaze for as long as you can.

“I’m…..sorry.” Your voice wheezes, rough with strain.

His heart shatters into a thousand pieces. Tiny shards that embed themselves into his own lungs, that twist his stomach into a Gordian knot, that pierce his very soul and cling, barb-like and heavy.

“No, my love. My dearest one. No.” He smiles. It is a reflex, a gesture of comfort. His lips shift without him even conscious of it. Words continue to find a way through his blocked throat. Because he knows you need them. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His hand, still trembling lightly, slides down, cupping your face, the one he has loved for ages, the one white as bone and red with blood. “I love you.”

A shudder wracks your body and your eyes close. For a moment you don’t breathe and panic seizes him, gripping his mind with hands of steel. No, no. Just another moment. No.

And then you manage another breath. Your eyes open again, seeking his. Your lips part and he leans down to catch your labored, whispered words.

“I’m….scared.”

The truth of it bears down on him. He has seen death so often that it had become as innocuous as the changing of the seasons. Spring follows winter, autumn follows summer. People are born, live out the time they are given, and then die. 

And yet your words have turned the world upside down. Death is no longer an abstract, cyclical idea. It is real. It is on that grimy cobblestone street, leaning over you, reaching down, seconds away from taking you away from him forever. Stealing every place you never went. Every kiss you haven’t shared. Every declaration of love yet to be spoken.

Vlad presses his lips to your cold forehead, his hand still cupping your face.

“I’m here, beloved. I promise, it will be okay. I’m with you.”

Your eyes are on him, but they are no longer focused. The flame of life inside of them is sputtering as the curtains slowly close on your mortality. Your breathing becomes rapid, uneven, louder. The sound forever burns itself into his memory. 

You draw one breath.

His soul quakes. Don’t go, beloved.

And then another.

Beloved……I’m scared.

And then you are still, sightless eyes gazing into nothingness.

……..beloved?......

And his world goes black.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bubblexly

for the angst ask (thanks for opening them btw) vlad and illness? he waited so long for his mc (gn) just to watch them slowly dying in front of him, their last moments and what that entails? I want to be crushed haha

A/N: Hello anon! I took a little bit of artistic liberty here because I had an idea so its not illness, but rather an accident. The rest of the request is still honored.

CW: death, loss

Vlad x gn reader

Word Count: 1783

A Pureblood vampire has nothing but time. It becomes their only constant, the one fixed thing they can depend on as the world around them evolves and changes. The flow of time brings mighty mountains to their knees and changes the course of rivers. It has seen man crawl, then walk and now, in the late 19th century, begin to run as technology makes leaps and bounds within shorter and shorter time spans. And one sure thing about time: it never stops.

How does one bear the weight of years and decades and centuries? Vlad has found a way. Something that fascinates him. 

People. 

He has loved them with a ferocity sharp and deadly. That their lives are so fleeting, rising like sparks from a fire only to blink out of existence and return to darkness within mere decades, is what makes them precious. Worth fighting for. And he has never loved a human, or any other being, as much as he loves you.

You were the one he waited for. The one who imprinted yourself upon him like a brand, your essence burned into his soul with a heat that never subsided as he waited all those long years for you. And when the time came, when you understood who he was and what you meant to him, when you returned those extraordinary feelings of love and desire, he understood the words Shakespeare had penned when writing his greatest love story: 

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea 

My love as deep. 

The more I give to thee,

The more I have, 

for both are infinite.” 

You gave his world a beauty far beyond that field of roses he holds so dear. Vlad’s heart holds entire universes of love only for you. 

Which is why, when you told him you did not want to be turned, despite the consequence of death, he never once questioned it. He had simply raised your hands to his lips, his claret eyes closing as he pressed a kiss into your skin, accepting your decision. 

And decided then and there he would dedicate every moment you had together to bringing you joy. He would show you the world and in return, give the world the gift of your smile.

Which is why you were in London, exploring the world’s largest city and breathtaking capital of the British Empire. You were staying at Claridge’s, one of the grandest hotels London had to offer, and swept up in the whirlwind of pleasures Vlad had arranged: an outfit tailored just for you at London’s most exclusive boutique, high tea at one of the oldest tea houses in the city, a boat ride on the Thames. As you disembarked, hand in hand, a young boy was waiting with a message for Vlad. A mystery item he had commissioned was finished and would he care to come pick it up or have it delivered to the hotel? His rose-colored eyes had gleamed, his excitement dancing within their depths and along the curve of his lips. He would come right away. When you had asked what this mysterious item was, he had simply smiled softly. You would see soon, beloved. Go, the carriage that would take you back to the hotel was waiting just across the street. He would meet you in the hotel’s salon for supper.

You parted, his smile still warming your heart against the misty London air and you took the time to watch his tall figure grow smaller and smaller as he walked with the young boy down the street, eventually disappearing from view as they rounded a corner. Your heart could not be any fuller, your soul could not be more content. Vlad was the key that unlocked the truth about love: it mattered, more than anything. He mattered more than anything. Loving him had transformed your world into something so perfect it could be called heaven. You were so lost in your starry-eyed thoughts, your mind floating in the clouds on a breeze of affection and anticipation, you did not pay attention as you stepped onto the street.

You did not see the carriage with its spooked horse barreling towards you.

You did not hear the shout of warning.

You stepped out into the street.

And your world went black.

It’s tucked safely into the inside pocket of his jacket, carefully wrapped in the softest black velvet. One look at the pin, a detailed red rose made from the purest rubies with its emerald leaves and curving stem, made by one of the finest jewelers in Europe, and he knew it was worth every cent. It was a work of art and he was proud of the design he had created. He wanted something unique, something custom-made that no one else the world over could have, a symbol of his feelings for you and a sign to all who saw it that you, like the rose, are a rarity worth remembering, a beautiful spirit worth marveling at.

He turns the corner onto the street where you had gone ashore after your boat tour, his mind running through the way he imagines you will smile when he presents his gift, a smile that rivals the sun in all its brightness. All thought however screeches to a halt as he notices the crowd gathered, blocking most of the way. There are police wagons and officers doing their best to keep people away from something on the road. Vlad passes an elderly man sitting on the filthy flat pavement meant for pedestrians, his dirt-streaked face blanched with shock, hands shaking as he tries to drink from a flask. He hears the mumbled words, repeated over and over to no one in particular:

“The horse stepped on a nail. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. It stepped on a nail. I couldn’t stop it. They came out of nowhere. I couldn’t stop it-”

Uneasiness begins to slowly creep down Vlad’s spine like a spider descending on its silken thread. He was planning to walk around the crowd, his long legs swiftly taking him away from the buzzing and gawking of the crowd so he could get to you, his light, his love, and make sure you were ok. He will never be able to answer why he didn’t stick with this. Why instead of walking around the crowd, his feet begin taking him through it. 

Each step feels like the earth is trying to stop him, gravity is desperately pulling at his legs, trying to slow him. His feet feel like they are made of granite, dragging along as he shoulders his way through the dense, foul-smelling mass. Each beat of his heart becomes louder, the crowd’s murmuring becomes distorted. Fate has wrapped his heartstrings around her cruel fingers and pulls, forcing him to shamble his way toward a truth that will sunder his very soul.

He breaks through the throng. 

And sees you lying there, your soft hair touching the filth of the street, your head pillowed by hard, uneven cobblestones. 

Someone has thrown what looks like a shabby picnic blanket over your body, but Vlad can smell the blood through the fibers, through the grime of a London street. Your eyes are open, blinking rapidly, your lips trembling as you mouth one word. He recognizes the shape of his name.

“I’m here, beloved.” How he manages to speak through a throat full of thorns is a miracle, another question with no answer. He sinks to his knees beside you, feeling the dampness soak through his trousers, the hard stone biting at him. “I’m here.” You turn your head and the effort that costs you is evident in the flickering light of your beautiful eyes. He reaches out with a shaking hand, the movement slow as if underwater, and manages to brush your hair off of your forehead with infinite tenderness. His fingers are stained red with the blood trickling down your temple. He repeats the motion anyway.

Your breathing is labored and erratic but you refuse to look away, holding his gaze for as long as you can.

“I’m…..sorry.” Your voice wheezes, rough with strain.

His heart shatters into a thousand pieces. Tiny shards that embed themselves into his own lungs, that twist his stomach into a Gordian knot, that pierce his very soul and cling, barb-like and heavy.

“No, my love. My dearest one. No.” He smiles. It is a reflex, a gesture of comfort. His lips shift without him even conscious of it. Words continue to find a way through his blocked throat. Because he knows you need them. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His hand, still trembling lightly, slides down, cupping your face, the one he has loved for ages, the one white as bone and red with blood. “I love you.”

A shudder wracks your body and your eyes close. For a moment you don’t breathe and panic seizes him, gripping his mind with hands of steel. No, no. Just another moment. No.

And then you manage another breath. Your eyes open again, seeking his. Your lips part and he leans down to catch your labored, whispered words.

“I’m….scared.”

The truth of it bears down on him. He has seen death so often that it had become as innocuous as the changing of the seasons. Spring follows winter, autumn follows summer. People are born, live out the time they are given, and then die. 

And yet your words have turned the world upside down. Death is no longer an abstract, cyclical idea. It is real. It is on that grimy cobblestone street, leaning over you, reaching down, seconds away from taking you away from him forever. Stealing every place you never went. Every kiss you haven’t shared. Every declaration of love yet to be spoken.

Vlad presses his lips to your cold forehead, his hand still cupping your face.

“I’m here, beloved. I promise, it will be okay. I’m with you.”

Your eyes are on him, but they are no longer focused. The flame of life inside of them is sputtering as the curtains slowly close on your mortality. Your breathing becomes rapid, uneven, louder. The sound forever burns itself into his memory. 

You draw one breath.

His soul quakes. Don’t go, beloved.

And then another.

Beloved……I’m scared.

And then you are still, sightless eyes gazing into nothingness.

……..beloved?......

And his world goes black.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bubblexly

for the angst ask (thanks for opening them btw) vlad and illness? he waited so long for his mc (gn) just to watch them slowly dying in front of him, their last moments and what that entails? I want to be crushed haha

A/N: Hello anon! I took a little bit of artistic liberty here because I had an idea so its not illness, but rather an accident. The rest of the request is still honored.

CW: death, loss

Vlad x gn reader

Word Count: 1783

A Pureblood vampire has nothing but time. It becomes their only constant, the one fixed thing they can depend on as the world around them evolves and changes. The flow of time brings mighty mountains to their knees and changes the course of rivers. It has seen man crawl, then walk and now, in the late 19th century, begin to run as technology makes leaps and bounds within shorter and shorter time spans. And one sure thing about time: it never stops.

How does one bear the weight of years and decades and centuries? Vlad has found a way. Something that fascinates him. 

People. 

He has loved them with a ferocity sharp and deadly. That their lives are so fleeting, rising like sparks from a fire only to blink out of existence and return to darkness within mere decades, is what makes them precious. Worth fighting for. And he has never loved a human, or any other being, as much as he loves you.

You were the one he waited for. The one who imprinted yourself upon him like a brand, your essence burned into his soul with a heat that never subsided as he waited all those long years for you. And when the time came, when you understood who he was and what you meant to him, when you returned those extraordinary feelings of love and desire, he understood the words Shakespeare had penned when writing his greatest love story: 

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea 

My love as deep. 

The more I give to thee,

The more I have, 

for both are infinite.” 

You gave his world a beauty far beyond that field of roses he holds so dear. Vlad’s heart holds entire universes of love only for you. 

Which is why, when you told him you did not want to be turned, despite the consequence of death, he never once questioned it. He had simply raised your hands to his lips, his claret eyes closing as he pressed a kiss into your skin, accepting your decision. 

And decided then and there he would dedicate every moment you had together to bringing you joy. He would show you the world and in return, give the world the gift of your smile.

Which is why you were in London, exploring the world’s largest city and breathtaking capital of the British Empire. You were staying at Claridge’s, one of the grandest hotels London had to offer, and swept up in the whirlwind of pleasures Vlad had arranged: an outfit tailored just for you at London’s most exclusive boutique, high tea at one of the oldest tea houses in the city, a boat ride on the Thames. As you disembarked, hand in hand, a young boy was waiting with a message for Vlad. A mystery item he had commissioned was finished and would he care to come pick it up or have it delivered to the hotel? His rose-colored eyes had gleamed, his excitement dancing within their depths and along the curve of his lips. He would come right away. When you had asked what this mysterious item was, he had simply smiled softly. You would see soon, beloved. Go, the carriage that would take you back to the hotel was waiting just across the street. He would meet you in the hotel’s salon for supper.

You parted, his smile still warming your heart against the misty London air and you took the time to watch his tall figure grow smaller and smaller as he walked with the young boy down the street, eventually disappearing from view as they rounded a corner. Your heart could not be any fuller, your soul could not be more content. Vlad was the key that unlocked the truth about love: it mattered, more than anything. He mattered more than anything. Loving him had transformed your world into something so perfect it could be called heaven. You were so lost in your starry-eyed thoughts, your mind floating in the clouds on a breeze of affection and anticipation, you did not pay attention as you stepped onto the street.

You did not see the carriage with its spooked horse barreling towards you.

You did not hear the shout of warning.

You stepped out into the street.

And your world went black.

It’s tucked safely into the inside pocket of his jacket, carefully wrapped in the softest black velvet. One look at the pin, a detailed red rose made from the purest rubies with its emerald leaves and curving stem, made by one of the finest jewelers in Europe, and he knew it was worth every cent. It was a work of art and he was proud of the design he had created. He wanted something unique, something custom-made that no one else the world over could have, a symbol of his feelings for you and a sign to all who saw it that you, like the rose, are a rarity worth remembering, a beautiful spirit worth marveling at.

He turns the corner onto the street where you had gone ashore after your boat tour, his mind running through the way he imagines you will smile when he presents his gift, a smile that rivals the sun in all its brightness. All thought however screeches to a halt as he notices the crowd gathered, blocking most of the way. There are police wagons and officers doing their best to keep people away from something on the road. Vlad passes an elderly man sitting on the filthy flat pavement meant for pedestrians, his dirt-streaked face blanched with shock, hands shaking as he tries to drink from a flask. He hears the mumbled words, repeated over and over to no one in particular:

“The horse stepped on a nail. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. It stepped on a nail. I couldn’t stop it. They came out of nowhere. I couldn’t stop it-”

Uneasiness begins to slowly creep down Vlad’s spine like a spider descending on its silken thread. He was planning to walk around the crowd, his long legs swiftly taking him away from the buzzing and gawking of the crowd so he could get to you, his light, his love, and make sure you were ok. He will never be able to answer why he didn’t stick with this. Why instead of walking around the crowd, his feet begin taking him through it. 

Each step feels like the earth is trying to stop him, gravity is desperately pulling at his legs, trying to slow him. His feet feel like they are made of granite, dragging along as he shoulders his way through the dense, foul-smelling mass. Each beat of his heart becomes louder, the crowd’s murmuring becomes distorted. Fate has wrapped his heartstrings around her cruel fingers and pulls, forcing him to shamble his way toward a truth that will sunder his very soul.

He breaks through the throng. 

And sees you lying there, your soft hair touching the filth of the street, your head pillowed by hard, uneven cobblestones. 

Someone has thrown what looks like a shabby picnic blanket over your body, but Vlad can smell the blood through the fibers, through the grime of a London street. Your eyes are open, blinking rapidly, your lips trembling as you mouth one word. He recognizes the shape of his name.

“I’m here, beloved.” How he manages to speak through a throat full of thorns is a miracle, another question with no answer. He sinks to his knees beside you, feeling the dampness soak through his trousers, the hard stone biting at him. “I’m here.” You turn your head and the effort that costs you is evident in the flickering light of your beautiful eyes. He reaches out with a shaking hand, the movement slow as if underwater, and manages to brush your hair off of your forehead with infinite tenderness. His fingers are stained red with the blood trickling down your temple. He repeats the motion anyway.

Your breathing is labored and erratic but you refuse to look away, holding his gaze for as long as you can.

“I’m…..sorry.” Your voice wheezes, rough with strain.

His heart shatters into a thousand pieces. Tiny shards that embed themselves into his own lungs, that twist his stomach into a Gordian knot, that pierce his very soul and cling, barb-like and heavy.

“No, my love. My dearest one. No.” He smiles. It is a reflex, a gesture of comfort. His lips shift without him even conscious of it. Words continue to find a way through his blocked throat. Because he knows you need them. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His hand, still trembling lightly, slides down, cupping your face, the one he has loved for ages, the one white as bone and red with blood. “I love you.”

A shudder wracks your body and your eyes close. For a moment you don’t breathe and panic seizes him, gripping his mind with hands of steel. No, no. Just another moment. No.

And then you manage another breath. Your eyes open again, seeking his. Your lips part and he leans down to catch your labored, whispered words.

“I’m….scared.”

The truth of it bears down on him. He has seen death so often that it had become as innocuous as the changing of the seasons. Spring follows winter, autumn follows summer. People are born, live out the time they are given, and then die. 

And yet your words have turned the world upside down. Death is no longer an abstract, cyclical idea. It is real. It is on that grimy cobblestone street, leaning over you, reaching down, seconds away from taking you away from him forever. Stealing every place you never went. Every kiss you haven’t shared. Every declaration of love yet to be spoken.

Vlad presses his lips to your cold forehead, his hand still cupping your face.

“I’m here, beloved. I promise, it will be okay. I’m with you.”

Your eyes are on him, but they are no longer focused. The flame of life inside of them is sputtering as the curtains slowly close on your mortality. Your breathing becomes rapid, uneven, louder. The sound forever burns itself into his memory. 

You draw one breath.

His soul quakes. Don’t go, beloved.

And then another.

Beloved……I’m scared.

And then you are still, sightless eyes gazing into nothingness.

……..beloved?......

And his world goes black.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bubblexly

He wants to tell you // FWB.

⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ None. just light Angst turned into fluff. 15+ and F!Reader.

The suitor is not specified...🩷..And the fic is set in more modern times I suppose.

Personally, I'd pick one of the following for this fic: Leviathan, Cater, Victor, Trey, Belphegor... Licht or Nokto, Liam..Maybe even Clavis... Vlad

The city is dark, cold and empty with just a few street lights on the side of the road shining down the streets. He checks his phone to make sure that he hasn’t missed a call or message from you, and feels a sense of disappointment when he sees that you haven’t texted him or called him.

How long has it been since the two of you last met up?

It must have been weeks… Or even a month.

Now, he came to your city just to see you. His arrival was somewhat late after using the bus In the evening, But, he arrived. Usually, you’d stay awake until this hour after taking naps during the day, So he thinks that his late and unexpected visit won’t be too much of an issue. After coming here, He hopes that when he gets to your house and sends you a text you’ll come out to see him.

He misses you greatly.

Sighing, he tucks his phone back into his pocket, and fixes his jacket.

It was cold, Really cold. Mornings here were freezing, and he could see his own breath turning into condensation when he breathed out.

‘But it would all be worth it soon’ He thought to himself as he made his way down the street, towards your address.

He passed by closed shops and empty streets, lost in thought about what he would say to you. He wanted to mend your relationship, See you like he used to, and spend time with you again. After your last argument, you no longer saw each other and things changed for the worse. You ignored him, and he was far too prideful to contact you first, but after you stubbornly continued not talking to him and distanced yourself, he realized that he couldn’t keep this up.

It was sad… childish even. Why didn’t he try to fix things sooner? If he set his own stubbornness and pride aside, he could have talked with you and prevented you from going off and dating whatever piece of eye candy you found. None of the men you dated now were good, or even worth a minute of your time. Really, what were you thinking? He heard all about you going to bars to find dates and whatnot from his friends, and it was unnerving.

He was jealous.

He didn’t want anyone but him to touch you.

Little drops of rain started to fall down, and soon they turned into a downpour.

As he passes through the dimly lit street, he finally sees your house on the right, the small flower garden still in front of it remaining well maintained. When he arrives, He takes the metal key out of his pocket and uses it to unlock the door of your fence. Soon shutting your fence’s door closed behind him, and tucking the key back into his pocket as he picks his phone up to text you.

He messages you a vague ‘I’m here. Open the door.’ and watches as the lights in your house abruptly turn on.

He waits for you on your front porch, tapping his foot against the floor in nervousness as he thinks about what your reaction could be. Would you be mad? Somewhat irked? Or happy? He didn’t know what to expect.

You opened the front door, revealing yourself and making his breath hitch in his throat as he finally got to see you after so long. You look at him with somewhat of a frown, your face more confused than annoyed by his sudden appearance at your house.

“It’s 3:00 AM.” You tell him, And he sheepishly scratches his neck as he grins like a fool at you. “I was hoping you’d still let me in. It started raining when I was coming.” He tells you, causing you to let out a sigh of frustration. You open the door wide for him, allowing him to come in, and he does. He enters your house, taking his shoes off at the entrance and putting them on the shoe rack on the left side of your door.

“Honestly, i don’t know why the fuck you would show up at this time. What if I was asleep and didn’t open the door?” You scold him, going off on an annoyed rant. “It’s literally autumn. Barely any of the hotels around here are working at 3 in the fucking morning.”

“Oh well… lucky for me, you opened the door.” He dismisses you, making you shoot a glare at him. “Why are you even here?” You asked, somewhat hostile toward him which was an obvious indicator that you were still salty.

“Well,” He started as he took his drenched jacket off, “I missed you. So, I came to both apologize and see you.” You roll your eyes, And his brows furrow in annoyance at you. “What are you rolling your eyes for? It’s the truth.” He steps before you and wraps his arms around you to hug you, laying his head atop your shoulder. “Just so you know, you can’t act all cute to butter me up so that I accept your apology and forgive you.” You remark, and he tightens his arms around you, “I’m sorry…” He apologizes.

It was the truth.

He really was sorry.

He did miss you… So why can’t he find the right words to tell you that? It’s like everything that he had to say got stuck in his throat, and he couldn’t speak.

“Oof… Okay.” You relent, finally hugging him back as if unable to remain mad at him.

“I don’t want us to ignore each other and not speak after an argument again.” He voices his true feelings, and you listen to what he has to say. “Also… I’m sorry for what I said that day. I should have known better and not given you shit about it.”

You rubbed his back comfortingly as you listened to him.

“I’m sorry too, I should have been nicer instead of coldly rejecting you the way I did.” You let him know, “Oh, No. It’s completely okay… I mean… that was our agreement from the start, So you didn’t really owe me an explanation or anything. I should have known better than to start pressuring you for things.”

He feels relieved as you finally have an honest conversation, both of you admitting your wrongs from the day where your argument happened.

You wanted to sleep with him, He wanted a relationship. He caught feelings, and he started getting possessive, and mad at you when you ignored his texts to see somebody else. He was the one who wanted nothing but sex from the beginning and proposed the idea, Yet, he was also the one who first broke your agreement to be nothing more than friends with benefits.

“Well, Now that we’ve sorted that out…” He looks lost in thought for a moment, seemingly trying to decide how to proceed with your relationship. “I don’t really know what to do.” He sighs, “I’m sorry.” He looks down in disappointment, feeling discontent with himself.

He still loves you.

He wants to tell you

“You can stay here, Don’t worry.” You tell him, not noticing how troubled he looked, or perhaps refusing to see it.

“You can sleep in my bed?” You suggested jokingly, surprising him.

“What?” He asks in disbelief

“Look, I know that we had a rough start, and that I didn’t want to have a relationship with you… But this last month I’ve been thinking about you.” You told him, making his jaw drop to the floor in surprise. “So, I’d like to give us a chance… If you’re okay with it.”

“Of course… I’d be happy to give us a chance.” He hugs you once more, his arms enveloping you in a tight embrace as he buries his face into your shoulder while holding you tightly.

This time he was lucky… he finally got to have you.

"Do you want a kiss?..."

"Yeah..."