Ikevamp Napoleon - Tumblr Posts

Napoleon locked me in his room by accident (sure the marquis de sade used probably the same excuse xDDD)

~✯  Ikemen Vampire Birthday Scenario Game  ✯~

Since the one I created for the ObeyMe! Fandom got quite popular I decided to create another one, this time featuring the IkeVamp suitors! 

Character = Month you were born in

Scenario = Day you were born

Reason = Color of the shirt you’re wearing right now

(some of the combinations might not fit together so well, I tried my best though !)

Reblog and share your results and thoughts with others to double the amount of fun ~ 

So here the first picture of my Ikemen Vampire Mc/ Oc: Gwiyndolin Black

Asks for her are always open

I love jean to much!!!

Theodorus uses Hyper Voice.

It's super-effective!

The enemy is exhausted.

Hello there ! I am all for new blogs and I just saw you were taking requests for ikemen vampire and so I decided to send in a request :) So how do you think Vincent, Mozart, Napoleon, Shakespeare and Arthur would react to discovering MC was an amazing actress by stumbling upon one of her movies ? Thank you so so much :))

Hello~Thank you for your support, i really appreciate it!Also, thank you for requesting!I hope you like it~

Warnings:Bad English (I’m sorry, it’s not my mother language!)

Game: Ikemen Vampire

Characters: Vincent Van Gogh, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Napoleon Bonaparte (Born to Party), William Shakespear and Arthur Conan Doyle.

Type: Headcanons

This takes place in the modern time.(The boys travelled with the MC.)

Vincent Van Gogh:

One day, Vincent stumbled upon a shiny box.He was very curious, so he opened it.(Of course, he had your permission.)

His face lit up when he saw his gorgeous girlfriend on the cover.

The more he looked at the DVDS, the more he wanted to learn about them, so he took one and put it in the DVD player.(after a lot of struggling.)

Not even ten minutes in the movie and he had already fallen for your acting.

The way you fought and the way you talked was enough for Vincent to fall in love with you all over again.

“My angel is so beautiful and strong!”He was smilling so hard whenever you were on the screen, that his cheeks were hurting.

He is so soft for you, that he laughed everytime you laughed and cried when you did.

He is already making fanart and he joins all the fandoms available.He has his own blog where he posts his fanart.

When you returned to your home, you found tones of detailed sketches with you as the protagonist.

And thousands of kisses.

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart:

Mozart was very surprised to say the least.

He was bored, so he turned on the TV, but nothing caught his attention.

He desided to change one more channel and he found himself looking at you, in elegant clothes, playing the violin.

‘Wait, where you in a consert?’He read the information and understood that it was simply a movie.

Mozart was blushing madly while listening to you.Your music was good and the interactions between the characters was exiting.He would never say it out loud.

He also wouldn’t admit that he was captivated and thinking of writing a piece for you to play.

Your face was so emotional in every scene.He was a bit jealous that others could see those expressions of your.

When you returned from your work, you got bombarded with questions and a very emotional Mozart (and his wet wipes), who wanted hugs to distract him, because he saw you dying in a movie.

Napoleon Bonaparte:

Napoleon was watching a few movies with swordfighting and would you look at that!

“Is my nunuche one of those stars?Damn, she’s good!”Napoleon was impressed (and turned on) with the way you were fighting.

He remembered the time you told him that you were taking lessons, but never knew the reason why.

Now that explained a lot.

Another thing that caught his eye was the interactions between the characters and his ‘nunuche’.

Your face was harder to read than normal.It was challenging for him.

You were acting like another person and he was captivated.

By the time you woke up, he had accounts in every social network, which were full of posts filled with admiration.

William Shakespear:

This man knew that you had potential.

He is watching you every dayand all those expressions and theatrical moves are “screaming” talent for him.

Until that fateful day, where he went to the cinema and found a huge poster and your gorgeous figure as the heroine.

Shakespear didn’t want anyone to distract him from watching it, so he bought ALL the tickets for the premiere.

The day comes by and you’re in his arms, while he guides you to the best seats.

Throughout the duration of the movie, his eyes are changing from happy, to sad and everything in between.

“You are amazing, my dearest.Thou are art itself.”He spoke smoothly.

In his mind, he has new ideas for senarios and the protagonist is you!

He is pretty sure that you could enchant everyone with your acting.

Arthur Conan Doyle:

Arthur already knew these was something going on with you and acting.

Your bright eyes, the way your body was ready to move and act in every live performance the both of you went.

Days after your last date, he was alone in your house.He was extremely bored, resulting in finding a gigantic stack of films.

Arthur was glad he was right.He was smirking up until he saw a cover of you kissing another handsome man.

He was extraordinarily envious, but when he played the movie, he was awed by your acting.

“You’re so talented, luv.”

A badass scene came up and he was cheering so badly, the neighbours called to complain.

The time you set your foot in your apartment, he is kissing and hugging you.

Expect a lot of praise.

I really hope you enjoyed it!Request are still open~

NadiaSilver~

HERE COMES THE RESIDENT MAIN BOY!!!!

A/N: Since I was not able to complete all the fic requests for the Fall Fluff Autumn Angst Content Creation Challenge, I thought I could still do the ones I had left as headcanons 🌟

I did them for Ikepri here, now its time for vamp!

Napoleon, Mozart, Leonardo x reader

Word Count: 1853

Ikemen Vampire Fall Fluff Headcanons 🍂

Napoleon - Hot Apple Cider 🍎

It is the middle of the night, an hour when everyone should be warm and snug in their beds, lost in the garden of their dreams. You should also be curled against the warm body of the man you love but said body is….not there. Your stretched out hand searches the bed but finds nothing. You wiggle closer to his side, still feeling around and still all you touch are cool, empty sheets. With a groan, you push yourself up, rubbing sleepily at your eyes. Napoleon is not in bed and you know exactly where he is.

When the kitchen door opens, you are greeted by the heavenly scent of warm apple cider. Allspice and cinnamon drift dreamily up from the pot that the man you love is stirring. He glances at you over his shoulder with a sheepish grin on his handsome face.

“I couldn’t help it, Nunuche. I had to.” The conversation you had in this very kitchen, not six hours ago, replays itself in your mind. He was determined to treat everyone to hot apple cider tomorrow. But as he made it, something……something was missing. And despite your insistence that it was perfect, you knew by the glint in those eyes, bright as peacock feathers, that he didn’t agree. And because he is who he is, wanting to do his absolute best at anything he undertakes, he snuck back to the kitchen to make it just right.

You sigh, the sound warm with equal parts affection and exasperation as you walk over to him, sliding one arm around his waist as you eye the dark orange liquid. “And?”

His smile could illuminate the darkest of nights as he reaches for another, smaller spoon and carefully dips it into the cider. He raises it to his lips, blowing softly until he is certain it won’t be too hot for you to sip and then leans close. You drink the warm cider from the spoon and the expression on your face tells him he was right.

“That….is amazing. Even better than earlier. What did you add?” When he holds up the small bowl with the magic ingredient, you don’t recognize it until you bring it closer to your nose. “Cardamom?” He nods, pleased you recognized it. “Oui. Now it is perfect.”

You slide your arms around his waist, expression soft. “Does this mean you are now coming to bed?” You reach up, running a hand over the soft strands of his hair. Napoleon wraps his arms around you, nodding as he drops a gentle kiss to your lips. “I will clean up here,” he murmurs, his voice soft and alluring, “And then….” He kisses you once more. “Nothing…..” Another kiss, this time one that lingers, full of tantalizing promise, “Absolutely nothing will stand in the way of my joining you.”

Mozart - Hot Apple Cider 🍎

The wet, chill fall weather has struck again, making you late to dinner. You had stepped out of the mansion to run an errand, but just before you left the bookstore, the gray clouds decided it was the perfect time to unleash a cold, lashing rain that would have had you soaked to the skin within minutes of walking through it.

Sebastian meets you at the door, taking your hurried explanation with a head shake and a smile. He helps you out of your coat and then directs you to the dining room where several of the men are gathered, playing cards. 

What greets you is the following scene: Arthur, Theodorus, Napoleon and Dazai playing some card game that moves too fast for you and has them all intently focused. Leonardo is literally asleep in the corner of the room, not bothered by the light or the noise. And there at the end of the table is Mozart, watching the others with a smile on his face, cheeks flushed. When he spots you, he beams. You know that face, that look in his eyes.

“Hallo, meine Liebe! I have missed you so.” He makes this announcement in a very loud, very not-sober Mozart voice and you put a hand on your hip as you saunter over to the card sharks. “Ok who did this?” You gesture to the man you love and the smile still plastered on his face. Arthur shakes his head, blue eyes bright as summer. “I swear, luv, I had nothing to do with it!” Theo looks annoyed you’ve interrupted their game. But Dazai’s golden eyes are bright as coins. Suspiciously so. “Dazai……” And then you notice all the mugs of cider. You glance at Mozart who is indeed drinking the last drops from his and already reaching for the jug with more. 

You quickly go to him, gently taking the mug from his hand, lifting it to your nose before you set it back down on the table. He blinks his beautiful violet eyes at you. “I’m thirsty.” You wrap your arm around his narrow waist, giving him a placating smile. “We can drink something upstairs. Come.” Mozart is not used to alcohol and you know if he keeps drinking, he will be cursing the cider, and Dazai’s generous and likely sneaky addition of bourbon. Together you navigate the steps and hallway until you reach his bedroom.

He humors you, allowing you to help him out of his waistcoat and vest. Your fingers undo the soft cravat at his throat. You’re about to suggest he lay down when his hands come up, catching yours. The spiked cider has melted any sign of his usually icy facade, any cool awkwardness he may still struggle with when he is alone with you. Now his expression is warm, inviting. His pale skin is flush with color, his eyes brilliant amethysts caught in sunlight. “I missed you,” he says simply, honestly. 

Those words are rays of sunshine, warming you as you squeeze his hands in response. “I’m here now.” He smiles earnestly and some part of you thinks it is for the best he doesn’t smile at you like this often. You would never be able to leave his side if he did. “Come,” you say for the second time that night. And this time you fall onto his soft bed together, Mozart’s arms wrapped around you. As his mouth finds yours and you taste the lingering flavor of apple cider on his lips and tongue, a small part of you smiles. You’ll have to tell Napoleon how good it tastes.

…….in the morning.

Leonardo - Cozy Sweater 🧶

Leonardo walks into his own bedroom with no idea what is awaiting him. You’re standing in the middle of the room, half undressed. He blinks, taking in the sight of you in your long skirts and only your thin chemise on top. “If I had known you were waiting…like this…, I would have come much sooner.” 

The expression on your face shrivels all the sensual ideas in his head before they even have a chance to blossom. You look….miserable. “Cara mia,” he says, voice now colored with concern as he reaches you, one warm hand touching the bare skin of your upper arm. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s silly….” but he can see it is anything but. “Tell me,” he says encouragingly, still rubbing your bare skin. You sigh, making a gesture toward the bed where he notices the soft, caramel-colored sweater you love wearing. “I was helping Sebastian trim some of the hedges and…” You walk over, lifting the sweater from the bed and offer it to him. He sees the problem. Along the shoulder, there is an ugly, jagged tear, right along the seam. He can also see that you have tried to mend it yourself, but the material is very tricky. It’s a stretchy, knit fabric. One that made it a very comfortable sweater and unfortunately, very difficult to fix.

You shake your head. “I tried to fix it but pulling or tugging causes it to keep puckering and it also just keeps clumping up where I need it to lay flat and why didn’t I think to change before going outside?” You look crestfallen and it tugs on his heartstrings, awakening the burning need to make you smile again. “Should I go and take a sword to the evil hedge that attacked you? Make it pay for what it has done?”

That gets a laugh. It’s a small one but it still counts. You sigh, turning away from him and open the wardrobe, reaching for a dark red blouse. He comes over, taking over the buttoning for you and then cups your face in his hand. “I’m sorry, tesoro.” You offer him a shrug and a small smile, half as bright as usual. “Thank you. Now I have to get over this and go with Sebastian and do the grocery shopping for this week. I’ll see you later.” You kiss him, a soft thank you on the plane of his cheek, and head out. It seems like such a small thing to be upset about, but it would be a lie if you tried to pretend you weren’t.

A few hours later, you make your way up the stairs toward the bedrooms, feeling better. The food stalls and vendors had helped you forget your torn sweater, distracting you with their vibrant wares and charming stories. You open the door to Leonardo’s bedroom, fully expecting to find him catnapping on the bed. He isn’t there, but what you find stops you in your tracks. Your sweater, your beautiful, soft, cozy sweater is folded neatly on the bed. You make your way over, lifting it up, your motion slow with the weight of shock. Sure enough, the ugly tear in the shoulder has been expertly mended.

“Welcome back.” You turn to find him leaning against the doorframe, his mouth curved in a satisfied grin. You look back down at the sweater. The kind of double stitching he did you’ve only ever seen done by a sewing machine, which certainly does not exist. “How….did you did this?” He offers you a nonchalant shrug. “You know me, cara mia. I sleep and I fix things. It’s what I do.”

You carefully set the sweater down on the desk chair, keeping it off the bed, before you cross the room to where he is standing. The look on your face has him straightening up, reaching back to close the door behind him, his own grin slowly growing. You lean against him, stretching up to lock your hands behind his neck as he slides his hands down over your hips. Oh he likes where this is going.

“So my knight in shining armor lifted a sewing needle instead of a sword and saved the day,” you murmur, your gaze bright and inviting. “How ever can I repay you for your kindness, cavaliere?” The Italian word for ‘knight’ falling from your lips nearly sends him over the edge of reason right then and there. 

“I have a few ideas,” he answers, voice husky with anticipation. And then he has you in his arms, his kiss claiming you as wholly and utterly his.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @atelieredux @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesroseforclavis @somekidnamedkai @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @ikehoe @redheadkittys @themysticalbeing @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @leotoru @ariamichel @kpop-and-otome

Stickers 💕🦅🌈

Congrats once again Violet!! ❤️❤️ I hope you get lots of requests to your liking and have fun!! Thank you for all your hard work and the amazing fics you give us 🙇🏻‍♀️ Can I please have...Napoleon + laughing while kissing? 🥺💕 Gahh im excited!! Have a great day!!

A/N: Here you are @kissmetwicekissmedeadly 💜

Napoleon x reader

WC: 1174

You blame it on the fact that you still haven’t quite gotten the hang of operating an oven from the nineteenth century. You’ve watched Sebastian use it and Napoleon, of course. They make it seem effortless. And yet somehow….your efforts have resulted in your Hato Sabure, traditional Japanese dove-shaped butter cookies, looking less like doves and more like blackened crows. A frustrated sigh shuffles past your lips as you look over your personal baking disaster. All you wanted was to make Napoleon a treat, to thank him for the time he has spent with you. All the walks through town, where he points out little things around the city most people would not glance twice at, introducing you to his students, the ones who stare at him with starry-eyed admiration, and especially for coming to your aid the other night, when you were out too late in a town that is too dark for a lone woman hurrying home by dim streetlight. A shudder runs through you at the memory of that circle of men with their hungry eyes and yellow smiles. And Napoleon, appearing like an avenging angel out of the shadows, scattering them back into the dirty corners of the city from whence they came.

The kitchen clock chimes, shaking you out of your reverie, sending a jolt through you. Napoleon will be back soon! You barely have time to make a fresh batch. Your lips press together in a stark line of determination. You have to try.

And you really, really have to hurry.

The Hato Sabure are a beautiful gold, edged in crispy brown and still warm from the oven when you knock on the door of Napoleon’s room. Your heart surges forward when it swings open and he is there, his jacket hanging over the wooden chair by his desk, his crisp white shirt unbuttoned at the neck.

“Nunuche,” he says with a smile that reaches the beautiful jade of his eyes, warming them like the waters of the South Pacific. “What’s this?” 

You step inside, holding the plate of cookies, willing yourself to steady your breathing in the hopes that your heart will follow suit and settle down. 

“I wanted to thank you for the other night. Therefore…..cookies.”

His smile grows and your heart is beating so wildly at its beauty that your lungs are starting to follow your heart's lead, ignoring your brain's commands to breathe evenly. 

“Cookies are always welcome,” he says in that voice of his, that deep, sonorous voice that melts you like chocolate powder in warm milk. He takes the plate from your outstretched hands, his fingers lightly brushing yours. Your skin tingles at the point of contact, his touch sending tiny fireworks of excitement cartwheeling through you. He sets the plate on his nightstand and sits down on the edge of his bed, reaching for a cookie and eagerly takes a large, enthusiastic bite. 

You watch his expression carefully, your lower lip caught between your teeth. They may just be cookies but they are also a piece of you, your homeland, your history, as well as a token of your affection for him. 

Your admiration. 

Your yearning.

He blinks those beautiful nebulous eyes, his chewing suddenly slowing.

He stifles a polite cough behind one large hand, swallowing the mouthful down. This time his smile doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

“They are….unlike anything I have ever tried before.” He takes another bite but you notice the way he tenses while chewing.

Oh no….he doesn’t like them.

Despair floods you, too warm and too quick. It leaves you dizzy as you step forward, taking a cookie from the plate and quickly taking a bite. You have to know what's wrong……or they bad...or is it you?

And just as quickly as you bit it, you spit it out with a gasp.

It definitely isn't you.

“They….they’re so salty!” You stare down at the cookie, feeling betrayed and then despair gives way to horror. You were in such a rush to make a new batch….and the salt was in an identical crystal bowl as the sugar…..

“Napoleon, don’t eat anymore! I mixed up salt and sugar!”

“Dieu merci”, he mutters, setting down the half-eaten monstrosity and then at the look on your face, his eyes widen. “Nunuche?”

You can’t help it. You've started laughing. “You….were eating that horrible thing. My god. I am so sorry….I…” Your words are being swallowed by your relieved giggles. The cookies were truly awful. It really wasn’t you. 

Your laughter sparks his own and he reaches out, taking your hands in his and pulls you down onto the edge of the bed next to him. The sound is warm and welcoming and when mingled with yours, it's music to your ears. 

“Y-you were going to keep eating that…that…salt lick, weren’t you?” The idea of him choking down those terrible accidents fills you with equal parts amusement, affection and admiration of his kindness. 

He squeezes your hands, nodding even as he laughs, his gaze downcast as he takes in the sight of your hands in his, a perfect fit. When he looks up, you’re still laughing, softly, eyes bright as you meet his gaze. And then like magnets, you’re both leaning in at the same time, unable to resist each other’s pull, hands gripping each other tightly as the laughter trickles away at the press of his lips to yours. 

Your heart explodes with sunlight, warmth spilling forth from its chambers and filling you with a glow that only he can ignite. A small, final, breathless laugh escapes you and you feel the curve of his smile against your mouth before he begins moving his lips in earnest, his kiss blossoming from something small and contained into something bigger, something new and beautiful and utterly delicious.

When he pulls away, your lips parted in silent protest. He inhales, then gifts you a smile that would brighten even the darkest of midnights. He lifts your hands to his lips, placing a kiss on the top of one, then the other. You allow yourself to be so bold as to run a hand over his soft hair like you’ve been aching to do ever since you laid eyes on him.

“I believe," he murmurs, turning his face to where your raised arm is stroking his hair and placing a kiss on the inside of your forearm, “that this may be the key to removing the taste of your well-intentioned but dreadful treat.”

Again laughter bubbles up from within, from this new-found well of happiness that Napoleon has formed in your heart.

“Is that so?” Your voice is soft with tenderness, effervescent with joy, warm with desire.

He nods, reaching out and winding an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Oui. I am sure of it.” His gaze is bright. Playful. Sultry. 

He leans in, capturing your mouth again like the conqueror he is. 

Et tu te rends joyeusement.

And you surrender happily.

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

I believe you asked for Napoleon and Kuromi ~ full version coming soon

Napoleon & Kuromi 😈

𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐍𝐮𝐧𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞

↬☀️ Napoleon notices your sun-burnt face and he's not happy about the fact that you've yet again failed to take care of yourself...

Napoleon Bonaparte x f!Reader • rating: G • tags: Fluff; Banter; Silliness; Sunburns • wordcount: 756 • masterlist

a/n: It's me. I'm the sunkissed Nunuche in question. While bearing the consequences of my nunucheness I'm staying inside and writing this as a memory of the short holiday I'm on... Looks like Napo is the balm for all my pains, sunburns included lol

"I might be falling asleep on the beach but at least I'm doing it under the shade. Unlike a certain Nunuche."

Your facial muscles twist in a grimace, and even that hurts. That's the last thing you want to hear from the man who would've found himself in the same situation as you - if not in a worse one! - have you not chosen to wake him up as soon as the sun changed its position and gradually crawled across his bared chest. Like the reverse Sleeping Beauty he is, Napoleon is used to capturing your lips in a kiss in order to leave the depths of slumber, and afternoon naps are included in his repertoire as well, as of recently. Spoiling him like that is a no-no, you discovered as soon as he took hold of the hand shaking him awake and pushed himself off the beach chair to find your mouth and claim it. In public. Luckily, you managed to escape in the nick of time. Still! He's just as deserving of being scolded for his actions as you are!

"You're very distracted. Did you not put on sunscreen on your face at all?"

"I did!"

"After you went for a swim?"

"...No."

Napoleon lets out a disappointed sigh, not missing a beat as he finishes dismantling the umbrella while making a gesture for you to take off the beach bag that you've just put over your shoulder. You want to murmur something about him showing off with the number of things he is already carrying, but you realize quickly that he must be worried about the state of your reddened shoulders too. Whoops, another missed spot. As usual, he's not vocal about the little things he does in your favor, while choosing to be vocal with his teasings instead.

As your mind trails off about the kiss that never happened, you find another reason to furrow your brows in a frown. The ever-so-perceptive Napoleon notices the sourness painted across your heated face and leans in closer as you two walk down the beach alley.

"Are you alright, Nunuche? Does it hurt that badly?"

"Uh-huh...I must've gotten another sunburn...here."

Napoleon halts his step to examine the area you've put your palm on, but as you remove it for his eyes, he doesn't see any signs of damage done by the mischievous sun of mid-July. As if hit by a sudden realization as to where exactly you were pointing towards, he tips his chin up, returning his gaze on yours.

"Your heart?"

"Yes. It hurts because... you can always get your wake-up kiss when we get behind closed doors but... I won't get my smooch shower...! Because my cheeks are sunburnt!"

Trying to put so much intuition while keeping your voice down is a challenge, and even more so without emphasizing it with a matching facial expression. But you don't want to sound too serious, otherwise he'd just-

"Pfft. Bahahahaha!"

A person or two look your way, no more. It's more than enough. It's plenty. Your face can't possibly get more heated than that, no matter the embarrassment-powered enhancement. You look again at Napoleon, putting on your best mean glare - you didn't want to sound too serious, but now that he laughed at you, you're incited to stand your ground. To your surprise, he's the one looking offended now.

"First you're not giving me my wake-up kiss, now you've deprived me of the pleasure of kissing your face as a whole."

HUH!

"H-How did you turn things around like that?! That's-"

"You're not taking care of my Nunuche and now I can't give her love properly. I'm looking forward to how you're going to make up for this damage."

Not taking care of his Nunuche... he can't get more absurd than that. All thoughts of tending to yourself once you're home crumble because even now you can see through his words - you've learned how to - and the image of his feather-light touch putting lotion on the sensitive skin appears so very clearly in your mind. Taking a cold shower with him even, if he feels the need to. You know how thoughtful he could get.

"I miss those kisses a whole lot already, so I'll make sure to take proper care of your Nunuche, Napoleon!"

"You miss the kisses? Strange... Are you sure? You've gotten plenty of kisses already, by the looks of it. You're thoroughly sunkissed."

"NAPOLEON! ...Hey, don't speed up your step like that! Wait for me!"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @ale-teodora @kimi00twin @otomelady @privilegedpancake @g-kleran    @pumpumnnnp @thesirenwashere @ravenarld @kimmy-banana @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @keen19thcenturygoatsstudent @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @canaria-blackwell @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @aquagirl1978 ​ @ikemenlover24 @violettduchess @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @my-day6 Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

Listen.

I know I'm greedy as heck, but I just love Ikevamp guys so much. But like... All of them. At once. I even like MC. And I desperately want to love on them so much..

Anyway, do y'all have links to any MC/everyone fics? Need me sum 'o those.

I'm begging you.

Thanx!

Thank you so much! This was perfect! I love those four, so don't worry ^^ You really captured their personalities well, Mozart especially, that was really amazing!

Hi! I've read your headcanons and your writing is soooo good, I can't resist but to request as well. Since every time I hear that confidence is sexy (which it is) I get sad, because with my anxiety confidence is something I experience twice a year XD can I ask for headcanons with any four boys you choose (because I love them all the same) with an s/o who is just really worried of messing up all the time? I don't know how to love and be with soeone properly :') Thank you ^^

ahhhh sweetie thank you so much for the compliments !!!! i’ve struggled with anxiety myself as well, so i understand how it can feel 💖 for this i chose comte, leonardo, mozart, and napoleon ? i hope that’s okay? Xx :) you should also know that your anxiety does not make you any less of a loveable or attractive person, and that you amount to so much more than your worries 💕 i really hope these are okay and your enjoy them wahhh feel free to send me a message or request anytime, love you lots 💙💙💙

✎ desc : headcanons for comte, leonardo, mozart, and napoleon with an s/o who is anxious and gets worried about messing up || this is just fluff/comfort, but tw for anxiety mentions || gn mc

comte :

Comte is excessively, ridiculously, superlatively in love with you - there's not a single thing you could ever do or say that would change his feelings, and there's not a single thing he wouldn't do to make you feel better.

If you ever have a single worry Comte will never hesitate to sweep you off of your feet, carry you to his room, and just sit for hours on end with you wrapped up in his arms; leaning his head against your shoulder to whisper sweet nothings and gentle reassurances into your ear, his warm breath tickling your neck as he punctuates each sentence by pressing a small kiss against your skin.

This man simply adores complimenting you, and has an endless bank of loving words and earnest encouragement that will make you forget you were ever worried about making a mistake in the first place.

You’re his angel, his sweetheart, his treasure, the love of his life — and that means if you’re anxious he’s there to support you, if you do something good he’ll shower you in the highest praise, and if you do happen to make a mistake? He’s there to help you fix it, and if you would like him to he’ll teach you what to do next time.

Comte has got plenty of confidence, and he’s more than happy to share some of it with you.

As a pureblood, he’s seen it all — any mistake you could possibly make wouldn’t really phase him.

He’ll just quietly step in — absolutely never telling you off or saying a single harsh word to you — and he’ll take your hands and show you what do to; rewarding you with a lingering kiss to the forehead afterwards.

Comte is physically incapable of ever thinking a bad or disparaging thing about you, he’s on your side through it all. You give him so much constant joy and happiness — so allow yourself to lean on him a little, he’ll always be there to support you ♡

leonardo :

Leonardo has seen a lot of different things and different types of people throughout his long life, and he has never been the type of person to judge someone or be mean.

He’s always spending so much time helping others with their problems, and he’s exceptionally good at it — you truly couldn’t have anyone better to support you :’)

And when it comes to you in particular? Well, you’re his incredibly precious little tesoro, which means there’s nothing in the whole universe he wouldn’t do to help you or make you feel better.

If on any day Leo feels like you seem particularly anxious or worried about something specific, he’ll encourage you to take a break with him — dragging you to his room, or the nearest available quiet space, he’ll lie down with you; your head cradled against his warm chest as he slowly draws little shapes against your back.

If you concentrate though, you’d notice that Leonardo is not just tracing random shapes, but actually letters instead, tenderly writing his most fervent feelings across your skin. *“Ti amo”, “Sei la mia anima gemella”, “Mi hai cambiato la vita”, “Nei tuoi occhi c’è il cielo”, and many more — continuing long after you’ve fallen asleep.

If you don’t have time to take a full nap however, he’ll just hold you for a little while wherever you are — pulling his coat around your body to bring you closer to him and quietly humming an improvised little tune. After a short moment he’ll let you go again, checking how you feel and offering any help.

Even if you refuse his assistance, however, he’ll still watch from the sidelines — he wouldn’t want to interfere if you truly thought you could handle something, but he hates to ever see you struggle or worry and will step in to be by your side if he feels it’s right to do so ♡

mozart :

Mozart knows very well that he’s not always great with his words, often coming off as overly harsh or cold to most other people.

Therefore, if you seem anxious or are worried about messing up he’ll try comfort you the best way he knows how — his music.

Leading you to the music room, he’ll have you sit right next to him on the piano bench as he begins to play whichever song seems most appropriate for your particular mood.

If you seem mostly anxious and worried, he’ll play something soothing — you’ll hear the soft legato tones of his music wash over you like waves, a low and rumbling ostinato rolling in like a tender mist to ground your tumultuous mind and coax you back to tranquility. The lilting dotted rhythms of the melody nursed you gently, enticing your eyes to close; your worries leaving you in a deep sigh.

If you seem mostly sad or upset however, he’ll play something upbeat and happy instead — his hands dancing across the full tessitura of the piano like lightning, the uptempo metre conjuring your mind to imagine sparks following after his fingers. Syncopated rhythms and an odd metre gave the music a jaunty quality, the impish back and forth imitation between right and left hand like a playful conversation between good friends.

And if you seem tired or angry, he’ll play something strong and powerful — his music drawing you out of your mood, the tempest of your mind transforming into a whirlwind of sound. Harsh dissonances and polyphonic cacophony filled the room, your negative emotions seeming to run from your own mind and flow into his piano, leaving you newly energised and refreshed as the piece tumbled to a close.

You’re seine Liebe, his love, and he’ll constantly be there to cheer you on and give you support when you’re nervous or feel like you’ve messed up.

Mozart knows he’s not the best with words, and he doesn’t always know what to do in every situation, but he’ll translate his love and care for you into countless compositions — always willing to sit down and play for you. After he’s finished the piece, and you’re both feeling calmer, he’ll carefully encourage you to talk to him so you can both work towards a solution to whatever problem together ♡

napoleon :

Napoleon is naturally an extremely charming, charismatic and inspiring man. He has incredibly strong convictions and will always stand up for what he believes in — and there’s nothing, and nobody, that he believes in more than you.

He has a constant desire to protect you, so when he sees you anxious or worried about messing something up for even a second he will immediately jump into action.

With a soft, albeit slightly tense, smile he’ll take your hands and ask vey seriously if you’re okay — dearly hoping you’ll explain to him how you’re feeling and allow him help you, teach you how to do something, or just stand at the sidelines and give you his encouragement.

Napoleon just loves you so so so much, and would do anything to make you feel happy and relaxed like you deserve to be.

No language, or even combination of languages, in existence could possibly have the right words to sufficiently describe just how much happiness, support, joy, stability, and love you’ve given him just by being you. So whatever you want, whatever you need, he wants you to know he’s right there at your disposal. He is your solider. Your protector. Your lover. Your ‘Léon. Forever.

This man will make tons of little jokes and light teases to help you relax, your worries slowly beginning to melt away with the sight of his soft smile and sound of his infections laugh ringing in your ears.

Napoleon will try as hard as he can to make you smile or laugh, even if it’s only a tiny bit. He simply thinks the best way to assuage your worries, and help you feel less anxious about similar situations in the future, is to help you turn all your problems into positive memories.

He just really wants to reinforce the message that you’re safe, that everything can be fixed, that no-one will ever judge or get angry at you and most of all… that he loves you. That he’s never leaving you. That you can both accomplish anything you want by simply working together ♡

*Translations for Leonardo : (i only have an incredibly vague knowledge of Italian so if I made mistakes with any translations please tell me!) :)) <3

Ti amo = i love you

Sei la mia anima gemella = you are my soulmate

Mi hai cambiato la vita = you changed my life

Nei tuoi occhi c’è il cielo = the sky is in your eyes

SO IM DOING A LITTLE FUNDRAISER TO HELP WITH KIKIS SURGERY BILLS

If you don't know...THIS IS KIKI!!

THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!!! SHE LOVES BELLY RUBS AND KISSES.

On Sunday she needed some hefty surgery due to bacteria and infections and lost a kidney. She's only 3, possibly has FIV(basically cat HIV).

Surgery and hospital stay came to be $10,000, and I had to pay 95% upfront might as well take all of it at that point

I also lost my job last Thursday, because I expressed my concerns to the district manager and the store manager didn't like that and fired me.

SO BECAUSE SO MANY OF YOU LOVE KIKI AND MY WRITING/BANTERS IM DOING A LITTLE THING!!!

For ikevamp guys only

For $5 I will write bullet point hcs with any guy with any scenario. Can be smut, fluff, angst, I DO IT ALL ＼(°o°)／

For $10 I will do a few paragraph drabble and maybe random banter with any guy with any scenario. Can be smut, fluff, angst OR WHATEVER.

Don't have $5/$10? Even $1 helps. Can't do that? Then please just share. I don't want anyone to feel obligated. Want to donate more but only have one request? ILL TAKE IT.

All of it is going to Kiki. And I'll be keeping all of you updated on Kiki too. I'm sure she will be needing special food, and follow up appointments.

Now what do you gotta do? I have PayPal here and ko-fi here

Leave a message with your URL so I can tag you (or if you want to stay anon and just stalk my blog that's cool) what guy, and what scenario.

Scenario doesn't have to be detail, if you just want smut, say that, or if you want a certain kink. If you want fluff you can just say fluff, or if you want a little coffee shop au.

You guys know how this works I'm sure.

OR GIVE ME $50+ AND I WONT ABUSE ARTHUR FOR A WHOLE DAY

So heart touching and tender...I loved it. And the next part, oh...it was just beautiful amd exactly what I needed, even ifthough I didn't know that. Thank you <3

having an off day

Ophelia by Friedrich Heyser

>ikemen vampire

>mansion residents x reader

>a/n: so sorry for the weird formatting in advance. i hope it makes sense. enjoy! 

>part 2: how your evening and night went

You woke up with the weight of an oppressive dread. A black hole in you seemed to suck the vitality out of you. Usually your spirit was at least alive and willing to get you out of bed, but this morning, it was only dead static in your chest. You could chalk it up to feeling homesick or hopelessness with your predicament, but nonetheless, you were not up to it at all today. 

Still, you willed yourself out of bed, afraid to let Sebastian and the residents down (though you knew they wouldn’t fault you for being off, you still felt the obligation because Le Comte is letting you stay for free, after all.)

On that note, the residents would fs feel a disturbance in the force if you weren’t out in the mansion today. You not being there would set off a chain reaction and have them be grumpy and having off days too. 

While setting up breakfast with Sebastian, you asked for the cleaning tasks for the rest of the day. You loved the residents but unfortunately could muster up no energy to talk to anyone today. Sebastian's obviously the first to catch on, and as the mansion’s biggest gossip, will spread this notion to any and every vampire he encounters. Thankfully, he didn't question it and hesitantly granted you permission. He usually doesn’t give you the heavier tasks like cleaning, but seeing your dour mood, he caught on that you wanted the solitude. 

While passing out breakfast for the morning vampires (Arthur, Vincent, Theo, Dazai, Isaac, Mozart, Comte) you were unusually quiet. Usually, you would bashfully respond to Arthur’s flirty remarks or retaliate to Theo’s teasing, but today you only acknowledged everyone with a slight (and very forced) smile.

Dazai Osamu

I'm of the belief that Dazai has a sadness antenna that catches on to everyone’s emotions as soon as they feel them. So best believe that as soon as you woke up, he could already sense a disturbance in the force. 

So when you very quietly poured tea for him, he placed a gentle hand on your arm and gave you a silent “are you ok?” look. He could tell that you didn’t want to bring attention to yourself, but also didn’t want to leave you like this. 

The deal he made with you when you first arrived came to mind. He proposed that whenever you felt even the slightest inclination of sadness, that you came to him to confide in (because you know he gets it fs). 

You acknowledged it with a solemn nod, wanting to communicate that you remembered the promise but couldn’t do it just yet. Dazai pursed his lips in quiet uncertainty, but allowed you to continue your chores. 

Later in the afternoon, while tending to the gardens outside, Dazai nonchalantly sat by your working figure. He settled for watching you work before piping up, “how fortunate the flowers are to be cared for by you.” You may have jumped a little bit, having been lost in your thoughts. 

Dazai’s gentle smile seemed more genuine this time; not quite the clownish mask he usually wore. “Unfortunately for you, I may be the only one who understands your predicament the most.” He walked next to you, a serene silence in the air.  

You confess as much of your melancholy as you could put into words while Dazai remained contemplative and respectfully quiet. Whether it was your mental wellness being disturbed, thoughts of home, or even just a broad exhaustion, Dazai will listen and understand. Sometime during your tirade, tears seeped out from your eyes unnoticed, except by his golden eyes. He softly cupped your cheek and wiped your tears away; his touch never more than gentle. 

At that moment, Dazai touched your face as if it was a delicate flower petal about to fall to its demise. His heart clenched in both tender affection at your vulnerability around him, and deep anguish that it was you who suffered and he couldn’t take that burden instead. How was it that a beautiful angel like you was tormented at this moment and not him, the sinful monster who was deserving of your burden and more. Still, he kept those demeaning thoughts quiet and yearned that his love could be felt in his gentle touches to your cheek. 

Dazai is the most sensitive to others’ emotions and will be the first to catch on to any of your mood changes. He'd rather die than leave you toiling in your own sadness, so he’ll follow you around until you confide in him. As tragic as it is, it’s his responsibility to make sure no one else, and especially not someone he cares about so deeply like you, feels the same torture he does. 

Arthur Conan Doyle

The writers are perceptive and sensitive to people’s emotions and characters, and usually you love them for that. Today, it made you the slightest bit frustrated. With only a meek “thank you” to Arthur’s compliment of, “your beautiful face is the perfect start to this day, love” he knew something was wrong. 

You poured his coffee quietly, hoping no one would pay attention to you. Arthur placed a soft hand against your back and asked lowly, “are you alright? Did something happen?” you shook your head and gave him an appreciative smile. 

You moved to pour Theo’s drink next, but Arthur’s arm wrapped around your waist. He motioned for you to come closer and so you leaned down.

“I've got to run errands in town today, but I'll find you once I get back. Do you think you can talk to me then?” he whispered. 

“I'm not sure.”

“I hate to leave you like this, love, really. At least promise me you can hold out until later and you can take all your frustration out on me, yes?” you find yourself laughing a little at his suggestion. He smiled in victory and gave your waist a small squeeze before letting you go.

Once Arthur returns from his errands, it’s just nearing lunch. True to his word, he finds you in the mansion (good luck evading his genius mind) and vows to take you out for a meal. You can refuse all you want, but it truly does wound him seeing you the slightest bit upset. Maybe his past influences that, but nonetheless, he wants to make you happy. 

He’ll do everything in his power to make you laugh, and if that doesn’t work, he’ll try and pester you so that you take your anger out on him. 

He treats you like a princess during the date, hooking his arm under yours, pushing your chair in, paying for everything, and if you were up to it, taking you shopping afterwards. 

He’ll try and seek out a case nearby as those tend to cheer you up and serve as a welcome distraction. 

Whether you choose to confide in him or not, he might have already caught on to what made you upset and will subtly offer a word of advice or comfort, depending on whichever you needed. And he’s perceptive enough to catch on to what you need. 

Nevertheless, the author’s darling attempts of alleviating your mood will likely be a success. Arthur is one of the tragic ones who would rather suffer than even endure the thought of his cared ones being upset. And you’re the one who brought new light into his revived life, so admittedly, he enjoys being there for you. If you allow him past your walls, Arthur would do just about everything to prove it was worth doing so. His care may be hidden under layers of deceptive and cliché flirtation, but a little unravelling shows just how tenderly he cares for you. So while his attempts do reflect that playboy life, the warm hand on your back proves there is no one in this new life he treasures more than yourself. 

Theodorus van Gogh

Still feeling Arthur’s and Dazai’s worried looks on your back, you moved on to Theo, who was unfortunately, less perceptive than the two. 

“Took you long enough, hondje. Dogs aren’t known to be so slow.” he huffed, having already placed a generous amount of sugar in his cup. You could barely register the small, “sche uit, Theo,” from Vincent. Still, his comment served to sour your mood even further, a sinking feeling in your heart suddenly blurring your eyes. 

Your spatial awareness being off, you almost overfilled Theo’s cup. This time, he took notice of your shaky and meek manner. He was about to complain, but when you turned to him to apologise, he saw your teary eyes.

“You hurt? What happened? Who hurt you?” Theo immediately asked in concern. You shook your head in alarm. His handsome face scrunched in concern, and he reached out to seize your arm to steady its shaking. He set down the coffee pot and checked if your arm got burnt. 

he gruffly passed the coffee pot to his brother, and when he was faced with questioning looks from the rest of the table he simply said, “you pour your own damn coffee.” He motioned for you to leave, wanting to relieve you of your duties for this morning as a small mercy. 

Theo is unfortunately one of the busier men of the mansion, so he can’t do much until the evening when he returns. So despite the tense morning, there’s no resolution until after supper. what his words can’t deliver though, his actions do. 

Regardless of how many residents have comforted you, you remained silent and thoughtful. Their efforts were greatly appreciated, but your energy was still depleted. 

Theo catches you right after cleaning up with Sebastian. He hid a large box behind his broad back, strangely timid from his usual bold character. He cleared his throat, “hondje, I brought you something home from work. you told me you liked this last time I took you out for a walk.” 

He stepped aside to show you the large and very sweetly decorated cake in the box. you knew how expensive it was, and for a man like Theo, who was quite savvy with money, you felt a tinge of guilt for making him waste money on you. 

“Theo, thank you. I don't know what to say, you really didn’t have to.”

“Hush hondje. A master’s supposed to take care of his puppy. And you’ve been working hard lately—you deserve a little treat.” 

Of course, Theo indulges in the dessert with you, he may have bought it partly for himself too. But when he saw you enjoying something he gave you, it warmed his heart. Perhaps your smile is sweeter than any dessert he’s had before—and he’s got quite a sweet tooth. 

Theo can be brash, and not nearly as emotionally perceptive as the others. So initially, he’ll be his usual gruff and teasing self. But he’s a good man (savannah), and will always serve you, regardless of the master-puppy dynamic he’s got going on. He’s weak to you, and would hand you the world just to get a glimpse of your sweet smile again. He can’t have his pretty girl sad, that makes him a terrible master. 

Vincent van Gogh

You shook your head, insisting that you stay to help Sebastian. Theo disapprovingly shook his head and tried to stop you from doing more work, but you’d already moved to Vincent’s side. 

Vincent already caught on as soon as Theo asked if you were okay. He poured his coffee himself, so you passed him the small bowl of butter and served a plate of sliced fruit to help. Vincent gently stroked your back, “Schatje, we’re just fine here, you can sit down. Have you had breakfast yourself yet?” knowing you never liked to put yourself first. 

“I'm just fine, Vincent. thank you.” you stuttered out. He hummed in concern, “Sebas told me you were doing laundry outside today. I'll come help you, if that’s alright?” you shook your head, touched at his kind offer, but dreadful over having a companion. As sweet as Vincent was, you were afraid of being too brash with him, with how short your patience was today. 

“We don't have to talk or anything, I'm offering because I want to, mc. please?” Vincent’s pleading eyes were too precious, so you gave him a hesitant nod. 

Vincent brightened up, his angelic smile lifting your spirits up slightly. with a warm day like today, he usually painted outside anyway. at least you wouldn’t have to be with him the whole time. 

He gave your arm an appreciative squeeze before you left. you weren’t sure how to thank him exactly. 

True to his word, the moment you stepped foot outside, you were greeted with his “could heal any and every problem in the world” smile. He was extra handsome wearing his simple, white, button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up. 

You gave him an appreciative nod, a bit flustered with having someone help you with such a simple task. Still, Vincent pleasantly hummed with no complaints, hanging the clothes you washed. 

It’s true that his hands were blessed by god, but his somewhat clumsy work with clipping the clothes on the line was a contrast to his paintings. Still, his determined expression dispelled any frustration you had, with how hardworking and adorable he was. 

With Vincent’s help (and the soft melody of Mozart's distant piano playing), the laundry was hung in sufficient time. other than having tea with Comte, you really didn’t have much left to do this early afternoon. Vincent cutely tilted his head in curiosity at your zoned out face. 

When he giggled, you snapped out of your stupor and glanced questioningly at him. “sorry! you’re just so cute staring into space like that.” Flustered, you faced away from him. 

“Don’t just say things like that Vincent. you’ll give me the wrong idea.”

“I mean it though. you’re adorable even just breathing.” He was doing that thing where he innocently compliments you, but just like his brother, actually wants to see you flustered. 

“Vincent!”

“and now you’re even lovelier when you’re all embarrassed!” Vincent chuckled, finally relenting when your hands fully covered your burning face. 

“Sorry for teasing you. I was just hoping I could make you smile. I know I'm not nearly as funny as Napoleon, or as dependable as Leonardo, but it hurts me to see you in pain, mc.” Vincent gently pried your hands away, holding them in his bigger and warmer ones. He stroked your palms in gentle circles. 

Really, he wanted to just wrap you in an embrace and hoped that you would let out your emotions to him. But he knew you needed time and patience before confiding in him. If you allowed it, he would stay all-day with you, just comforting and listening to any of your vulnerable confessions you chose to indulge him to. 

Eventually, you did relent to receiving a warm hug from him. you couldn’t see his face, but he was overjoyed you felt safe enough with him to do so. 

Angelic Vincent wishes he could take any and every pain you feel and take it all himself. It truly breaks his heart seeing your usually bright spirit so down, so he’ll do everything he can to comfort you. He’s patient and gentle; never crossing any of your boundaries and allowing you to take whatever you need and however long it takes you to find that out. He’ll help you with your work, sing you to sleep, feed you treats (that you hope he didn’t make), and give you as much or as little as you need. He cares about you deeply and only hopes he can be enough to cure at least a little bit of the pain you feel. 

Comte de Saint-Germain

Comte's face was already scrunched in worry from the moment you entered the dining hall. his calm and elegant demeanour belied it, but he was eager to finally talk to you. Once you reached his side, you swore you could almost hear the sigh of relief. 

“I speak for everyone when I say that no one can start their day right without seeing your face, chérie.” Ever the romantic, Comte wants to reassure you that you’re wanted (needed actually), and that he appreciates your being there. 

You’d be hard-pressed not to feel flustered by his words. “You’re exaggerating, Comte, but thank you.” Your usual routine consisted of having tea with Comte in the early afternoon, but you weren’t sure you’d make good company. “about later today comte—“

“I'll have the tea and desserts set up. i’ve found this new patisserie in the city—“

“comte, i’m really sorry—“

“You don’t have to do any work, mc. I want you to take a break.” He was clearly well-intentioned and the break did sound tempting. so with much hesitation, you relented to comte’s demands. 

Perhaps a little part of you dreaded it, knowing how protective Comte was over you. He’ll pry, and if he found out that it was another person’s doing that caused your mood, he’ll cause a riot (gracefully and elegantly, mind you). He was already waiting at the garden’s gazebo, a spread of various sweet pastries and steaming tea set up for you. 

He perked up upon seeing you, pushing your chair in as you sat down. He poured you tea and placed one of each pastry on your plate while you hopelessly tried to stop him. 

“I'm simply ecstatic you could join me today, ma chérie.” he hummed, sipping his tea. 

“It's not anyone’s fault, it’s just me.” You wanted to clear up what you knew he was itching to find out. his shoulders sagged down in relief for a brief moment before settling back into his perfect posture. 

“That's a relief, but I still want to make sure you’re okay, mc. Come, have some tea.” 

You could feel Comte’s golden eyes watching your every move, but otherwise, the tea was excellent and he was certainly generous with all the pastries. 

The real surprise was later in the night, after dinner, when comte asked you to meet him in his office. He was on the balcony, gazing out to the Parisian landscape (he would have been smoking then, but he tries not to). 

“You called for me, comte?” 

“Ah yes. mc.” The way he said your name was admittedly a bit seductive when accompanied by his golden eyes. he had this excited air about him, unknown if it was for innocent or more sinful reasons. He motioned towards a concerningly large box on his table. you opened it, and to your surprise (not really let’s bfr), there was a beautiful silk dress in your favourite colour. 

Comte moved close from behind you, and with a quiet “may i?” he delicately  put a necklace on your neck, the light brush of his fingers dizzying. 

He trailed his hands down to your shoulders and squeezed them, before descending to your arms. “ma chérie, i want to make you feel better. how can i do that for you?” he rubbed your arms up and down before wrapping around your body altogether. 

In this position, you could cry in peace, ramble in frustration, or be silent and enjoy his embrace without fear of judgement. He couldn’t see your expression, to save any embarrassment on your end, but he’s still there. 

Comte will definitely be protective and try and figure out if it was anyone made you upset. He would commit a murder to whoever did, but if there wasn’t anyone, he’d focus on making you feel better. His love language is gifts, quite obviously, but I also like to believe that he’s an acts of service guy who’d want to make things at least a little easier for you, like giving you a break. He'd want to reward you with gifts, expensive, but the kind that he knows you like. and if that doesn’t show you he cares about you, he’ll stay long enough to help you recover; in a way, he feels proudly possessive, knowing you could show your vulnerability to only him. 

Napoleon Bonaparte

As one of the late risers, you were tasked with waking him up in the morning. you did your usual routine of ripping the blankets off him and blocking his kiss with your hand. this time though, you left the former emperor be, once you caught sight of his half-opened eyes. 

He took a minute to catch on to your disappearance (forgive him, he’s half-awake) but as soon as it registered in his sleepy brain, he zoomed out of his room to catch your retreating figure. 

You knew he was one of the persistent men of the mansion, unable to leave you alone even when you weren’t upset. so this time around, he was hellbent on following you until you’d answer his inquiries. 

“Nunuche? what’s gotten into you?” he would quickly catch up to you and grip your arm until you show him your teary face. And only then would he relent and hold your hand instead.

You could confide in him and tell him about all your problems, because after all, he was the man who saved you and vowed to protect you all this time. However, even if you didn’t at that moment, nothing would stop Napoleon from making you feel better. 

He would briefly venture into town to absolve him of any of his guard duties so he could remain at your side the entire day. Perhaps a bit of an overreaction on his part, but owing his new life to you, he wanted to prioritise you above all else. 

Unlike a certain lazy Italian, this Italian will politely request that you be relieved of your tasks, and though you insisted on at least completing the laundry with Vincent and having tea with Comte, you relented to his demands. 

His usual routine was to take you to the stables and run as far as you can on his horse. It was often what helped him dispel the ghosts from his past; the coolness of the afternoon wind was a soothing balm to your face that was drenched with hot tears. He would childishly ignite a race between the two of you through the vast woods surrounding Comte’s mansion, if only to ease your heavy mind with a far less laborious task. 

He’d lead you to a small meadow on the outskirts of the fields, far from prying eyes and ears. There you can let any emotion out: whether that was a yell of frustration, a scream of rage, or harsh sobs, Napoleon will do it first, if it removes any embarrassment on your end. 

Whether you choose to confide in him or not, (which you likely would, considering how unyieldingly supportive and protective Napoleon had been for you thus far) Napoleon will willingly listen to anything you say. You could wax cheesy poetry, ponder about the origins of the universe, or just recall mundane moments in the mansion, but Napoleon will respond in kind to any silly statement you make. 

Napoleon of all people wouldn’t be opposed to having a nap on the soft, dewy grass, under the blanket of the warm setting sun. Once it gets cold though, he’d take you back to the mansion. 

If you still felt overwhelmed, he would bring you up to the attic that overlooked the Paris skyline. 

Napoleon, as he hopes that you consider him one of your closest companions, would do everything in his power to ease your pain. He’d begin by alleviating your work for the day, and whether that entailed him undertaking those chores or simply helping you with them, he’d do anything. Then, he might try what works best for him when he has his off days, usually in regard to the past, but allow you to dictate what he can or can’t do. Really, he hopes that whatever he does dispels those clouds of anguish and replaces it with some good old Napoleon humour. As the evening closes in, he’d take you to the attic. With only the stars and the moon as your witness, Napoleon would do everything in his power to bring you comfort. 

sorry that i wasn't able to write for everyone in this post, but I'll feature the rest (Leonardo, Isaac, Mozart, Jean, and a few bonus characters) on the next post. i just wanted to get some content out now.

if you made it this far, thank you so much for spending your time on my writing. lmk if you enjoyed it (or didn't, but pls be nice abt it I'm sensitive). have a great day, my dear <3

Guys i need to obsess over an otome cuz im hard-stuck on being bored all the time pls suggest me otome or write all the otome games you have played pls ( ⚈̥̥̥⌢⚈̥̥̥)

Ikevamp incorrect quotes 2

incorrect quote from @incorrect-ikevamp-quotes​