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beni-draw-ikemen-please · 4 years ago

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Kintsugi ~ Repairing with Gold

Kintsugi ~ Repairing with Gold ◆ Ikemen Vampire Fanfiction ◆

CHAPTER 1 - DON’T TELL ANYONE

Words: 2,063

TW: Angst and Hurt ◆ References to Depression ◆ Mental Instability ◆ Mental Health Issues ◆ Implied/Referenced Suicide ◆ Suicidal Thoughts ◆ Graphic Depictions of Sex/Intercourse ◆ Vaginal Sex/Fingering ◆ Rough Sex ◆ Non-con

Pairings: M/F Leonardo Da Vinci x Seiya Amanogawa [OC] / Comte de Saint-Germain x Seiya Amanogawa [OC]

Chapter Index [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

A/N: This is a work of fiction. This is fan fiction for Ikemen Vampire, character designs are owned by Cybird. My story however, features my own OC/MC Seiya Amanogawa who is from Modern Japan/Europe, who travelled to the Louvre for inspiration.

Seiya is female so I will be using she/her as her pronouns. I will also be describing her accordingly. I designed Seiya and she is my Original Character. If you don't like OC+Canon fanfiction, this might not be the fic for you.

KINTSUGI - CHAPTER 1

Don’t tell anyone

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

His golden locks fell beautifully in place, like a masterpiece set within the confines of an ornate golden frame. Right there, in the middle of the museum. The spotlight is carefully placed to highlight the gold that accentuated the piece. And there, in front of it all, with just the right amount of distance, is a lone bench.

That’s how Seiya saw him. A figure to be admired from afar. A treasure, so valuable and so bright, she steps back, almost instinctively, it made her feel smaller and smaller.

She would open her leather-bound book. And very carefully, she would write short letters. They weren’t really addressed to anyone in particular. Maybe they were addressed to her future self, who knows? But she wrote them, every single day. It wasn’t her journal either - no - it was far more complex than that.

Seiya knew in her heart, she wouldn’t be able to bear it, if he ever found out. How much she loved sitting just by the balcony of Vincent’s room during afternoon tea time, so she has the perfect view of the his hands as he gracefully pours tea into the day’s chosen china.

Viridian, with golden leaves and soft speckles of purple, almost white. She knew they were one of his favourites. Wedgewood. She took mental notes every time Sebastian gave her a pointer not to miss, especially when it came to afternoon tea.

She would duck her head, ever so slightly, and she would catch a glimpse of his lips, almost looking like they were kissing the fine things and smiling, so perfectly, complimenting the blend Sebastian had carefully prepared.

It was one of her guilty pleasures. And, it was only after she had shown Vincent what she really drew in her sketchbook that the angel allowed her to use his balcony.

Vincent noticed her when she first arrived. She was this scared, trembling frail little creature, and he wanted to make her feel more at home. Which turned out easier than expected. She spoke modern Dutch, at the very least the sounds were similar to the older variant. Sometimes, Seiya would hear him speak words that made her head tilt in confusion. But she enjoyed his company. And Vincent felt the same.

They would often draw together. Vincent with his easel and brushes, and his apron that’s stubbornly stained with paint, and her with ink and paper. She told him how she hated it when her hands stained of charcoal, or anything, so she stuck with inks. She would often grumble, how she missed modern pens and this thing called a brush pen. And Vincent wondered about it often.

They threw the case towards the makers of the mansion, first, Isaac - who felt comfortable around her, enough to actually draw and fiddle with objects around so vulnerably. Isaac asked for more time, maybe even more materials to create different prototypes. Then, the trio approached Leonardo. And they were able to make something similar to the modern brush pen in about a week’s time.

And so she drew more and more and more with the brush pen. Funny how she thought, she was using another man’s present to draw another man. And those two men happened to be best of friends. For over a century. Maybe, even more.

Vincent grew curiouser and curiouser every time he would catch a glimpse of the red leather peeking through the black lace. For someone who looked like her, her choice of colour would almost be too bold for a maiden in 19th century Paris. Always black, she would say. Or, if black wasn’t an option, wine red. Or the darkest violet possible.

Vincent remembered the first time he accompanied her to shop for a new dress with Leonardo. They picked up a white dress, made from the finest leavers lace, that she wore with a frown on her face. She covered herself with her arms and asked to change immediately.

“It’s too bright for me,” she said, and Vincent couldn’t make out if she softly cursed in Dutch, or in Japanese, or a mixture of the two. She would, however, hum in satisfaction whenever she saw black velvet chokers, or black leather gloves, and thinking of that contrast made him smile.

He noticed how intently she would spend on each of her drawings. And Vincent would hear the silent flicks of her brush. It would be a long steady stroke for a while, and then flicks of texture. And then she would stop, and sigh, wait for the ink to dry and she would close her sketchbook ever so quietly.

“What are you drawing, Seiya?” he wouldn’t be so bold as to peek over her shoulder as she worked, unlike how Arthur had attempted so many times. Seiya didn’t say much and it was rare to hear her raise her voice even just for a bit, but when it came to her sketchbook, she was vocal and protective. Arthur attempted many times to uncover the mystery of that book, but Seiya never let anyone, not even Vincent take a peek inside.

Maybe it’s her diary? He thought about this many times.

Maybe it’s some sort of visual diary where she draws her feelings instead of writing them down.

Thinking about it like that, Vincent stopped asking her and instead, just enjoyed the tranquility and meditative togetherness of their afternoon painting sessions.

The only person he thought knew about the notebook’s contents would be Leonardo. They spend an awful lot of time together, after all. Comte had assigned the man to be Seiya’s caretaker, and Leonardo took that duty to heart, sometimes too seriously.

Sometimes, during their drawing afternoons, Leonardo would suddenly just pop out of nowhere, grab her notebook and throw it in the grass. The first time he did that, Vincent was so shocked his hands stopped painting, his paintbrush falling on the grass unnoticed.

There was only the sound of the wind, and the shifting of fabric as Seiya smoothed her skirt and walked towards her notebook. She would have a pained expression on her face, and she would wipe her book clean with the hem of her skirt. And Leonardo would just stand there, puffing his cigarrillo in, and blowing it all out with a heavy sigh.

��Fanculo,” she whispered. And Vincent froze. His neck slowly guided his eyes toward Leonardo, who now looked more annoyed than when he first walked in.

Vincent usually did not know how to respond to situations like these. Their silence made it impossible for him to intervene. Leonardo was not violent, no, and he wasn’t the type to insult women. But Seiya didn’t appreciate it when someone ordered her around.

Dealing with Theo at first proved to be one of the hurdles she had to overcome before making the mansion her home, too. Vincent would always remember the face she made when Theo called her a ‘hondje’. And the long road it took for them to actually make an effort to sit down, have an actual conversation and eventually get to know each other.

But with Leonardo, it was something different.

Seiya was composed, and usually calm - at least Vincent thought so - he always felt relaxed whenever they were together. Seiya would often say something and he would apologise for not listening carefully to what she had to say. In the end though, they both agreed that it was more that she spoke too softly, rather than him spacing out and not listening.

Vincent knew that feeling too well. And maybe, it was one of the reasons why they enjoyed each other’s company. Soft souls, his little brother called them.

But with Leonardo, it was different.

Seiya acted more like a child around him. She would pout, call him names and he would let her. And then they would retreat to his room. Sometimes the library. Sometimes, her room, very late into the night.

“I told you. You should stop these silly doodles,” When Leonardo finally spoke, it sounded more like a request than actual lecturing. Seiya would look away, and she would hold her dear treasure closer to her chest.

Vincent, without a word, held out his hands to both of them, as if trying to stop the eruption that was about to happen. Seiya would whisper, that it was none of his business. That made Vincent realise that her notebook was something more valuable than they all deem it to be. And that it was very personal. And, for whatever reason and content it held, Leonardo was against it.

He hated it. Vincent could see it. Enough for him to go out of his way to get it off her hands and into the dirt.

This would happen every now and then, and oddly enough, Vincent knew he should get used to it.

That evening, Vincent brought her a pot of flowers. Hoping she would calm down. Vincent knew his friend did not like cut flowers so whenever he wanted to cheer her up, he would pick a small pot from their growing collection, and walk it to her room.

That day, he could remember she argued with Leonardo again. She was upset that he did what he did during their good days. Vincent felt great earlier in the day and wanted to paint, and she too, felt inspiration course through her hands. And Leonardo just shattered that moment.

Vincent frowned a bit as he leaned against the wall a little further away from the door of Seiya’s room. He could now understand why she was so upset and his heart ached for her. But what he didn’t understand was why Leonardo hated her notebook. Did he dislike that she drew? He couldn’t put his mind around it.

Seiya stormed out, and ran to the opposite direction in tears. After a while, he found her behind the lush greens of the Gazebo. Almost how a little kid would hide themselves after a fight after an afternoon at the sandbox. He remembered how quietly she cried. And how warm her hand was when he helped her out of the grass.

They sat underneath the stars, a bench near the gate of the mansion. And there, she showed him. He didn’t really say anything, no, Vincent just sat with her. Hoping his presence would alleviate the stress and agitation she felt. Seiya felt like she needed to tell Vincent what was happening.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” Her voice was always soft, like a silent prayer you hear inside a church. You should make out the words, but they would always sound like some foreign incantation made to sound familiar.

Vincent would often lean in and apologise. Asking her to repeat herself one more time, for his sake. Seiya would chuckle a bit and she would take a deep breath and would speak a little louder.

“Do you dislike Leonardo?” He asked her one time. And she looked at him with the strangest expression on her face. It was as if it was obvious that she did, but she also looked like she was shocked to hear him ask this question. It was hard for Vincent to understand her, most of the time.

Seiya did not say anything, but she gave him her notebook. Vincent’s eyes widened with interest and curiosity. He was excited and Seiya chuckled when she saw the eagerness in his blue eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asked just to be sure. It was dark, but he could still see the pink on Seiya’s cheeks. Her hair looked like starlight illuminating her from the nipping dark of dusk.

Vincent never felt like this before. The build up curiosity all stemming from the enigma that was her notebook, made the first look inside the pages of this mysterious book all the more exciting. He felt like a pirate, opening the treasure chest, seeing the valuable contents for the very first time.

And then, he stopped.

“You can’t tell anyone. Please?”

-To be continued-

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen leonardo #Onibeni Seiya #ikemen comte

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beni-draw-ikemen-please · 4 years ago

Text

KINTSUGI - REPAIRING WITH GOLD CHAPTER 1

Ikemen Vampire Canon x OC

K I N T S U G I

Chapter 1 - Don’t tell anyone.

Word Count 2064

Pairing: Leonardo Da Vinci x Seiya Amanogawa x Comte Saint Germain

Tags/TW: Graphic Depictions of sex, intercourse, smut (you name it), angst, mentions of death and suicide. Please proceed with caution.

A/N: This is a work of fiction.

If you don't like OC+Canon fanfiction, this might not be the fic for you.

This is fan fiction for Ikemen Vampire, character designs are owned by Cybird. My story however, features my own OC/MC Seiya Amanogawa who is from Modern Japan/Europe, who travelled to the Louvre for inspiration.

Seiya is female so I will be using she/her as her pronouns. I will also be describing her accordingly. I designed Seiya and she is my Original Character.

If you don't like OC+Canon fanfiction, this might not be the fic for you.

This work is intended for mature readers. No minors please. Graphic Depictions of sex, intercourse, smut (you name it), angst, mentions of death and suicide. Please proceed with caution.

K I N T S U G I

Chapter 1 - Don’t tell anyone.

That’s how Seiya saw him. A figure to be admired from afar. A treasure, so valuable and so bright, she steps back, almost instinctively, it made her feel smaller and smaller.

It was one of her guilty pleasures. And, it was only after she had shown Vincent what she really drew in her sketchbook that the angel allowed her to use his balcony.

Vincent noticed her when she first arrived. She was this scared, trembling frail little creature, and he wanted to make her feel more at home. Which turned out easier than expected. She spoke modern Dutch, at the very least the sounds were similar to the older variant.. Sometimes she would hear him speak words that made her head tilt in confusion.

But she enjoyed his company. And Vincent felt the same.

They would often draw together. Vincent with his easel and brushes, and his apron that’s stubbornly stained with paint, and her ink and paper.

She told him how she hated it when her hands stained of charcoal, or anything, so she stuck with inks. She would often grumble, how she missed modern pens and this thing called a brush pen. And Vincent wondered about it often.

Seiya kept her notebook to herself. The red leather stood out, so she would often wrap it with a soft lace handkerchief that was too big to be folded and tucked into her pocket. She would keep it in her tray whenever she assembled the residents’ meals or changed sheets. Her notebook never leaves her sight. Vincent grew curiouser and curiouser every time he would catch a glimpse of the red leather peeking through the black lace. For someone who looked like her, her choice of colour would almost be too bold for a maiden in 19th century Paris. Always black, she would say. Or, if black wasn’t an option, wine red. Or the darkest violet possible.

“It’s too bright for me…” she said, and Vincent couldn’t make out if she softly cursed in Dutch, or in Japanese, or a mixture of the two. She would, however, hum in satisfaction whenever she saw black velvet chokers, or black leather gloves, and thinking of that contrast made him smile.

“What are you drawing, Seiya?” he wouldn’t be so bold as to peek over her shoulder as she worked, unlike how Arthur had attempted so many times.

Seiya didn’t say much and it was rare to hear her raise her voice even just for a bit, but when it came to her sketchbook, she was vocal and protective.

Arthur attempted many times to uncover the mystery of that book, but Seiya never let anyone, not even Vincent take a peek inside.

Maybe it’s her diary? He thought about this many times. Maybe it’s some sort of visual diary where she draws her feelings instead of writing them down. Thinking about it like that, Vincent stopped asking her and instead, just enjoyed the tranquility and meditative togetherness of their afternoon painting sessions.

The only person he thought knew about the notebook’s contents would be Leonardo. They spend an awful lot of time together, after all.

Comte had assigned the man to be Seiya’s caretaker, and Leonardo took that duty to heart, sometimes too seriously.

“Fanculo…” she whispered. And Vincent froze. His neck slowly guided his eyes toward Leonardo, who now looked more annoyed than when he first walked in.

Dealing with Theo at first proved to be one of the hurdles she had to overcome before making the mansion her home too. Vincent would always remember the face she made when Theo called her a ‘hondje’. And the long road it took for them to actually make an effort to sit down, have an actual conversation and eventually get to know each other.

But with Leonardo, it was something different.

Vincent knew that feeling too well. And maybe, it was one of the reasons why they enjoyed each other’s company. Soft souls, his little brother called them.

But with Leonardo, it was different.

“I told you. You should stop these silly doodles.” When Leonardo finally spoke, it sounded more like a request than actual lecturing. Seiya would look away, and she would hold her dear treasure closer to her chest.

He hated it. Vincent could see it. Enough for him to go out of his way to get it off her hands and into the dirt.

This would happen every now and then, and oddly enough, Vincent knew he should get used to it.

In the evening, Vincent brought her a pot of flowers. Hoping she would calm down. Vincent knew his friend did not like cut flowers so whenever he wanted to cheer her up, he would pick a small pot from their growing collection, and walk it to her room.

That day, he could remember she argued with Leonardo again. She was upset that he did what he did during their “good days”. Vincent felt great earlier in the day and wanted to paint, and she too, felt inspiration course through her hands. And Leonardo just shattered that moment.

Seiya stormed out, and ran to the opposite direction in tears. After a while, he found her behind the lush greens of the Gazebo. Almost how a little kid would hide themselves after a fight with a another kid after an afternoon at the sandbox. He remembered how quietly she cried. And how warm her hand was when he helped her out of the grass.

They sat underneath the stars, just by a bench near the gate of the mansion. And there, she showed him. He didn’t really say anything, no, Vincent just sat with her. Hoping his presence would alleviate the stress and agitation she felt. Seiya felt like she needed to tell Vincent what was happening.

“I’m sorry you had to see that.” Her voice was always soft, like a silent prayer you hear inside a church. You should make out the words, but they would always sound like some foreign incantation made to sound familiar.

Vincent would often lean in and apologise. Asking her to repeat herself one more time, for his sake. Seiya would chuckle a bit and she would take a deep breath and would speak a little louder.

Seiya did not say anything, but she gave him her notebook. Vincent’s eyes widened with interest and curiosity. He was excited and Seiya chuckled when she saw the eagerness in his blue eyes.

“Are you sure?” He asked just to be sure. It was dark, but he could still see the pink on Seiya’s cheeks. Her hair looked like starlight illuminating her from the nipping dark of dusk.

And then, he stopped.

“You can’t tell anyone. Please?”

To be continued.

MORE A/N:

I’ve been wanting to write this for so so so so so so so long. I’m currenlty writing a very self-indulgent longfic for Twisted Wonderland and my OC so I had no excuse not to write this one. The title came very naturally and I felt like that’s when the chapters really took off in my head. At first there were just notes, or screaming/typing I shared with friends. But I felt I needed to do baby Seiya right and write her story out.

I hope you like my IkeVamp writing attempt! I also posted this on Ao3 (onibeni). In the days I can’t draw for Kinktober, I’ll write (at least I’ll try). So this will be good practice oho~

Thank you for reading! ♡

#ikemen vampire #ikemen leonardo #Ikemen Comte #Onibeni Seiya

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