#ikemen vampire sebastian x reader

[gunraekae]

love transcending time - aka the ikevamp prologue still unnecessarily narrated

>ikemen vampire

>everyone x reader

>a/n: here are chapters 3 and 4 of the prologue. it's about 5k words long, so sit back and relax, and I hope you enjoy. i have some shorter works coming soon!

Chapter III: The Hourglass

Outside the lavish mansion where a puzzling banquet was being hosted was a lush coach stopped just past the grand gates. The coachman turned towards his passenger, a rose-haired man who donned a thousand masks. The man, who sometimes played the part of a king, a prince, a lover, but always in all, a liar. He spoke with the ambiguous tone of someone who could laugh or cry at the next word, “... I apologize my good sir, but I have decided not to stay after all.” He faced away from the cruelly smiling crescent moon to re-enter the coach. 

The baffled coachman asked, “But Monsieur, what about the banquet?” 

The mysterious passenger ominously chuckled in return, “Capricious Fate has invited a guest of fairer mien than mine to take my chair. Hers is centre stage tonight, though I shan’t stay to see how she performs.” His eyes were of opposite colour—the right eye a misty green, the left a bloody red. The coachman shivered at his gaze; this was the first time in their evening he had donned an expression that felt… genuine. And it was genuinely dark. “Let us depart anon.” 

The coachman quickly hurried the vehicle off through the night, while its passenger relaxed into the velvet cushions. With only the laughing moon as his companion, he spoke to her—a bard playing to a lone audience, “O, what upturned expectations have come at the arrival of this new player?” The bard had seen MC but for a spare moment, and yet, he found himself haunted by her vision. “No devil can beguile men to persuasions more than she with an angel’s form. Or be she one of heaven’s messengers behind the horns and wings of temptation?” The coach jolted as it hit a divot in the path, sending the bard’s scripts scrawling to the coach's floor. Visible on the cover was the distinct signature of William Shakespeare. 

“Sebastian, if you would make us a cup of herbal tea? I think anise would be—”

“None for me, it’s okay.” As expected, dinner had ended with none of my questions answered. Le Comte remained true to his promise, however, and invited me to his office for an explanation. Still, my anxieties were left rampant in my head, and I could find no energy inside of me to remain courteous after such an absurd banquet. As Sebastian quietly closed the door to retrieve the tea, Le Comte looked at me with a sympathetic mien. “I just want to know how to get back. My aunt, she must be so worried,” I weakly muttered. 

“I presume you wish to exit through the door back to the Louvre? I’m afraid doing so will be difficult. You see, it only opens under very specific conditions.”

“What conditions?”

“The specifics are difficult to explain.” Le Comte rose from his large mahogany chair and stopped in front of a grand hourglass. It was unusually large and had gold furnishings, the top half full of sand. “The door will open once all the sand in this hourglass has fallen. It’s quite precise and I match that timing with the door’s opening myself.” I don’t like how much sand is in there. And how slowly it’s falling if it even is. 

“... How long does that hourglass run for?” I croaked out in a panic. 

“It takes a month, on average.” A MONTH? 

“Pardon me? I must have misheard,” I laughed in incredulity. I could feel my sanity crumbling between my fingers like the sand in that hourglass. 

“It typically takes a month for all the sand to fall. Doesn’t it, Sebastian?” I didn’t even notice the butler come in with the tray of tea. 

“Yes, M. le Comte. Meaning she will not be able to return for another month.” I squeezed my eyes, hoping this was all some sort of nightmare. 

“We’re in Paris, yes?” I asked in trepidation. There has to be another way to leave. As le Comte sipped his tea, he nodded. 

“I’ll just leave through the front door. How far are we from the Louvre?” No one said I had to leave through that strange door. Why would I need to use that to return? I can just get back to the hotel and apologize to my aunt for being gone for this long. Le Comte picked up a newspaper from his desk and gently placed it on my lap. 

“I’d like you to look at the date.” 

I looked at the date and grew cold. This didn’t feel fake—the news articles, the feel. It was genuine. 

“This is from this morning’s edition. As you’ve no doubt gathered from the date, we’re in the nineteenth century.” 

“There’s no way,” I whispered under my breath. 

Le Comte spoke in the same soothing tone, “We’re in France, but not the one you know. You arrived at this mansion by travelling through time.”

I don’t understand. No words came to my mind. There was not a single statement he said that could be serious. And yet, everything I’ve witnessed so far could attest to what he’s been saying. 

“You look like you’re struggling to believe it.” 

“I’m really quite sorry, you’ve been very kind to me. But there is absolutely no way I’d believe time travel before any number of explanations.” 

“It’s true that a newspaper can be easily faked. Perhaps this will convince you?” Le Comte moved towards a window where an old-fashioned brass telescope was pointed outwards. He gently beckoned me over. 

“What an excellent idea, M. le Comte. Seeing is believing, they say.” Sebastian said. 

“It is our good fortune that, owing to the genius of one of our guests, this telescope provides an excellent view of the city.” I let them guide me to it and peered within. Sure enough, when my vision cleared, the entire view of Paris turned back in time and greeted me. No neon signs. No skyscrapers. No cars. I turned the telescope around, hoping to see any glimpse of a modern city, but only Paris of a hundred years ago was present. Gentlemen in morning coats escorting ladies with bustles. There was no prank elaborate enough to dress an entire city. 

“So I’ve really travelled through time?” I gasped in disbelief. 

“There’s a phrase you use in Japanese. Do you recall it, Sebastian?” 

“Yes, we call it a ‘time slip.’” The name hardly matters, we’re facing the impossible! 

“That door connects to both the past and the present. Like me, you used it to travel here, to the past. You may have read or seen stories about time travel, but in my experience, it is neither a simple nor an everyday occurrence. Time travel has very particular rules. And in this case, you cannot return for the next month.” 

“When the sand in the hourglass falls, can the door take me back?” 

“Yes, when that time comes, either you or I could open the door. Like so, I must also follow the rules. It remains sealed to me for a month as well. If the door hadn’t shut, you could have passed through it exactly the way you came. However, once it’s closed, that passage ceases to exist. And the door requires time before it can open that passageway again.” I could have walked back if the door hadn’t closed. I degraded myself in my head. It was my own stupidity that really got me in this situation. 

“Likewise, all the men you’ve met tonight were gathered here by way of that time slip. That is why people from such diverse times and countries are all here, living in my mansion.” So the men I met at dinner are actually legit? Names from history, famous throughout all the world, transcending time in their glory—and they all live together in this mansion. “I can see you still have some doubts. But I assure you, you’ve just met the real van Gogh, the real Mozart, and the real Napoleon.” If time travel really isn’t out of the question, then I suppose it’s not unreasonable to assume that all these men are the real deal. Still, it’s truly unbelievable. 

“And who are you, Comte, that you were able to collect some of history’s greatest figures to live here in your mansion?” I looked at him, fully admiring his figure. This ineffable gentleman who said that people CALL him Comte de Saint-Germain. 

“I promise I’m not trying to evade your question, but in truth, it’s getting quite late. Please, stay the night. Sebastian will prepare a room. In fact, you’re welcome to stay here for the entire month at no cost. It’s the least I could do to land you in this predicament.” 

“For the night perhaps, but I can’t possibly ask you to welcome me for a whole month,” I fumbled over my words at the Comte’s generous offer. 

“You do realize you can’t return to your time for another month, don’t you?” 

“There’s no need to worry, I can make my own way. I’ve done it all my life.” 

Sebastian regarded me with a severe look, “I believe you’ll find that difficult. This is France at the turn of the century. How do you intend to ‘make your way?’” 

“I-I’m not quite sure yet, but—” He has a point. I knew nothing about this place. I didn’t even know what currency they currently used. But I can’t possibly stay here. There’s something they’re not telling me, but I can’t reveal my suspicions, it’d be rude. “I really don’t want to impose after you’ve been so generous,” I finished. 

“You’re not imposing at all, chèrie.” 

“It’s just that you’re offering me so much and asking for nothing in return.” That’s what scares me the most. 

“Please, take this as my apology. If you’re truly that concerned about it, Sebastian could use a hand around the house. The other residents try to do as much, as well.” 

Now I was faced with two choices. Risk spending a month in a house full of famous, time-travelling figures, who most definitely are hiding a secret. Or make a run for it and face the risks of the nineteenth-century Parisian streets at night. I squeezed my eyes as images of my worried family and friends flashed by. Staying with Le Comte really does seem the safest option right now. I turned towards him with a newfound strength. 

“I accept your gracious offer. Thank you, Comte.” I’ll trust them. For now. 

“I’m pleased we’ve come to an agreement. I wasn’t able to answer all your questions tonight, but we can continue tomorrow if you’d like. I also have something important to tell you, but that too, can wait for the morning.” I looked into those golden eyes that first sold me at the musée, and for the first time this evening, found contentment.

“I look forward to it, Comte.” 

“I will inform the others that you will be staying with us and are to be treated with courtesy. Two of them did not join us tonight, but I expect you’ll have the opportunity to meet them soon.” Even more famous names? Having adapted to my expressions, Le Comte assumed my curiosity. “One is Jean d’Arc.” Joan of Arc? The Maid of Orléans who led the French in the Hundred Years’ War? 

“Finally, another woman,” I sighed in relief, “that’s reassuring.” 

“I’m afraid our Jean is a man, though I can see how you’d make that mistake.” At my baffled expression, he added, “As to that, truth and history have a curious way of becoming distorted in the telling.”

Whispers of the past unheard by anyone but him, haunted the air like the specks of dust that floated in the light. The whispers, often cruelly mocking his soul, rightfully punished his monstrous existence; but tonight, a new voice urged him toward the window. An eyepatch covered the left half of his face, concealed by his long, dark hair. Jean d’Arc was the subject of the crescent moon’s mockery tonight. He watched the moon’s smile morph into a bow, bent to release its message of death, then to a sharp blade mid-slice. 

“La lune se moque de moi ce soir.” His voice became lost within the ghosts’ many whispers, but the moon’s mocking laughter remained. “There’s a curse on this night.” 

“Besides Jean, there is one other who did not join us tonight—” Le Comte was cut off by a dull thump, like something heavy falling against the door. “And that’s probably him. I’m sorry to trouble you, MC, but could you get the door?” He smiled almost knowingly while he gracefully held his cup between his lithe fingers. 

“Alright.” 

I opened the door of Le Comte’s office, expecting a man but encountering none. Warily, I stepped out of the hallway, only to stumble on something heavy. Before I met the floor, I landed on the lap of a large and hunched-over man. While I toiled in humiliation, strong arms tightened around my waist. The sweet scent of cigarillos and amber engulfed me. 

The velvety rumbling voice of the man hummed in confusion, “... never seen you here before.” Looking at him now, there was no way he could be comfortable like that. Is he sleeping? Finally, he cracked an eye open. His wolfish eyes were the colour of burnt gold. His lips formed a smirk as he observed my features with the same attention a sculptor might have given his subject. “Thought I’d wait patiently until you were done. Took so long I fell asleep.” A huge, brown, leather jacket lined with fur served to make his figure even larger, but the rest of his clothing was unmatched and messy, albeit in a charming way. The delicious drawl of his voice made me shiver, but his lupine gaze had me guarded. “So, you’re the one he was talking to?” He asked me a question but no words came to mind. He wasn’t letting go. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted him to. Then, as if waking up from a drowsy stupor, he realized the provocative position we were in. With one hand pushing him up to the ground, and the other supporting my back, we were finally upright. At my wide-eyed expression, he chuckled warmly and murmured an apologetic “scusa” in a deep Italian accent, “Did I surprise you?” 

I nodded wordlessly. 

He hummed again, “heh. Your words. They match the look on your face. How adorable.” His arm lingered around my waist, and at our close proximity, I caught the pleasant aroma of tobacco lingering on his clothes. 

“And here he is. The last of our residents.” Le Comte emerged from his office with a fond sigh. 

“Hmm? Are we introducing ourselves now? I’m Leonardo da Vinci.” 

“Along with Sebastian and myself, nine of these great historical figures reside in this mansion.” Le Comte finally concluded with the introductions. 

Leonardo ran a gloved hand through his brown hair, his voice tinged with that rough, sleepy quality, “I don’t know what happened, but your luck ran out for you to have wound up in a place like this.” 

“W-why would you say that?” 

“Simply put, Cara Mia, I don’t think you’re going to enjoy it here.” 

Chapter IV: Somnum Exterreri

It was not only the residents of the Count’s mansion that relayed the passage of time with the shadow-cleft moon. Ropes of moonlight from the High Gothic windows of the church illuminated the hallways, leaving behind the shadow of a darkly cloaked figure. The innocent humming of an old Romanian lullaby betrayed the blood-eyed creature with the heavy boots traversing the light. The snow-skinned creature gazed at the laughing crescent moon, the light reflected off his softly lucent smile. 

His childlike voice contrasted the vile thoughts that swirled behind his blood eyes, “Though it is doomed to the ugliness of utter obliteration, it remains such a beautiful world.” The man, if he could even be called that, crossed under the nave, where two shadows at the end stood obediently waiting. His eyes remained on the cruel moon, but his words were directed to his companions; they were used to his dream-like antics. “Have you seen it? The crescent moon is so beautiful tonight. Let us look at it together. Faust. Charles.” 

The imposing and brutal figure of a priest cast his cold gaze on the man. A frosty German voice muttered in distaste, “...Hmph. All the time at your disposal and you waste it in folly, Lord Vlad? We should make the church an almshouse if it’s to host the senile.” 

A great contrast to the priest Faust, the syrupy voice of Charles-Henri rose up in defence of their master, “Docteur, le Voïvode wasn’t idle, you know that. He was simply doing his job as a florist.” Charles was luscious candy personified; fluffy locks and innocently dressed with a cherub face and a sinful smile. “I’d love a job like that! So many pretty living flowers that all smell so nice and everyone loves you for what you do.” He turned to his friend, Faust, with a gleaming naïvete, “I want to be loved like that! I want everyone to love me more and more…” 

“You do the word ‘love’ no favours, muttering it constantly like a curse. Hungering for it like a depraved beggar. Then again, you do the very concept no favours, you mercurial nagetier.” 

Charles playfully interjects in a sing-song tone, “We humans need love. We crave it. It’s one of our most moral desires.” 

“Did I hear you say ‘we’ — and ‘human?’” 

The creature the two called ‘Lord Vlad’ hunched over in laughter. 

“Euer Hochgeboren?” Faust asked. 

“...Did something I just said make you laugh?” Charles questioned. 

“I simply remember how easy it is to forget my troubles around you two,” Vlad fondly answered, “then I remember how even the good times are destined to come to an end and I become sad.” 

“You feel sadness?” 

“I do. I feel sadness for the moon in the sky, the flowers in the soil, and the humans who walk between them in ignorance. I want to protect them all so they don’t have to ever feel that way.” 

“You love humans more than anything, don’t you, Voïvode?” Charles giggled. 

“Of course. I love them more than anything.” 

He who felt nothing but love, only love, looked out the window and up to the beloved moon. However, it was not just the moon his depthless blood eyes saw, but something beyond sight. More than human eyes can capture. 

“I’m in love with the world. That’s why as the unwilting flower called a vampire, I must bear this garden into eternity.” The vampire’s confession of love was released into the darkness, a promise that his beloved subjects were unaware of, with only the cruel moon to bear witness. 

Finally, I’m alone. The fluffy white sheets of the bed that Le Comte provided for me enveloped me in their plush embrace. I sank onto the bed in bliss, gaslighting myself into believing this was simply a hotel in present-day Paris, and not a mansion full of history’s greatest figures. I closed my eyes and the image of my worried aunt flashed in my head. I can picture her panicking at the Parisian police and contacting my mother and father. I can see my younger sibling, eyes brimming with tears at the thought that their sister was in danger. My family… My best friend’s face appeared next, her livid voice demanding where I was and why I’d left her. If only this was all a dream. I was willing to accept that I’d travelled back in time with everything I was shown. But the fact that I’d just had dinner with a bunch of time-travelling artists and scientists and musicians? It was harder to believe. I tried to recount everyone I’d met—if they were all truly who they said they were, I’d be damned not to remember. 

Vincent van Gogh, the gentle angel who paints masterpieces.

His brother Theodorus, the enterprising devil that sells them. The brothers were complete opposites, but they seemed incredibly close nonetheless.  

The frivolous playboy, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who created the beloved character, Sherlock Holmes. 

The indulgent charlatan, Osamu Dazai, who penned “No Longer Human.” They were both attention-grabbing, seemingly overcompensating for a secret they were hiding.

Sir Isaac Newton, who was so shy he couldn’t look me in the eye. He was legendary in name, but his presence seemed so small.

Jean d’Arc, who I haven’t met. I couldn’t even picture what she’d—he’d be like.

“Heh. Your words, they match the look on your face. That’s rare.” The dulcet voice of Leonardo da Vinci made me lose myself so easily, but what did his last words mean?

“...As if the banquet wasn’t bad enough.” Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, who made the most beautiful music but had the most rotten attitude. 

And of course, my saviour, Napoleon Bonaparte. The one who tried so hard to rescue me, and protected me until the very end. But what was he protecting me from? 

I couldn’t picture any of them trying to fool me, and honestly, they all seemed so earnest. Besides, what would any of them gain from lying to me? I wasn’t anyone influential or wealthy; there would be no benefit to keeping me here. Having realized all of that, the reality of my situation finally came into perspective. All of this is real. 

“I need to stop thinking,” I muttered to myself. Even though it was midday for me, the crescent moon outside my window brought a wave of drowsiness over my body. I slipped off my jacket and kicked off my shoes across the room. My foolish outfit, what was all of this for? I think back to this morning when I was getting ready in front of my vanity in the hotel with my aunt—joking between ourselves. It wasn’t so long ago and yet everything was so different now. My room had an ornate little vanity by the window, with a mirror that had engravings around it and empty drawers underneath. I sat before it and saw my reflection—my makeup was the same as before, but my face looked as if I’d aged ten years from exhaustion. The glint of my amethyst earrings caught my attention; these stupid earrings that got me in this predicament. Le Comte’s golden eyes flashed in my head—those depthless glinting eyes that I could get lost so easily in. Removing them from my ears, I threw them down on the vanity and stalked towards the bed, my bed now, I suppose. Not even a minute in, the heavy embrace of sleep wrapped around me and pressed me down on the bed. 

The soft crumple of the thick duvet woke me up. Blinking open my eyes, the bleariness showed me the crescent moon beaming down on my room, stretching the shadows. I thought nothing of it until I heard the creak of the bed frame. What the hell? Every drop of blood in my body turned ice cold. Someone else was in the room with me. And they were on the bed. 

“W-who’s there?” 

“...”

My eyes cleared and showed the shadowed figure crawling from the foot of my bed. It isn’t safe here at all. I lurched upright, but the figure shoved me back down on the sheets. They crawled on top of me, the heavy figure pushing down my arms away from my body. I was fully trapped. 

“Stop!”

“Don’t move.” Their whisper felt like a serpent slithering up my body. Their breath was in my ear. They stopped, and for a few seconds, I wondered if I could force it off of me. Suddenly, sharp teeth sank into my neck. 

A pain unlike any other surged from my neck throughout my entire body. And then, the pain quickly subsided and turned into something indescribable. It’s so… hot. My limbs felt like lead; as if they weren’t my own anymore. Heat flickered across my vision like the fading of a desert mirage. Each warm breath that billowed over my neck made the heat even stronger. A strange longing manifested inside of me, the same emotion I felt when I looked into Le Comte and Leonardo’s eyes. It felt intoxicating. I tried to scream, but instead, a groan laden with ecstasy sounded out. I felt the heat in my core, a slow throbbing pulse that edged me further into blind pleasure. I need to snap out of it! I struggled to open my eyes, which had been rolling back in bliss. Dark red rose petals strung around my bed, snapping me out of my stupor. These weren’t rose petals… They came from me. Blood… That’s my blood! The sight sent my head spinning, but before I lost myself in the void, I heard the figure’s voice. 

“I want it all. Your body, your heart… and your destiny.” NO!

I scrambled out of bed, furiously grasping at my neck. No blood on my fingers, no puncture wound on my neck. My gaze wildly darted around the room. Empty. No shadowed figure. No one who bit me. 

“There’s no one here,” I cried out in relief. That felt too real. My fingers shook as they clutched the sheets. I was shivering. My throat was dry from sleep. My mouth felt balmy, and when I tried to move, everything felt heavy. I need water. 

Though it was difficult to navigate, I retraced the steps I took from the room to Le Comte’s office, and eventually to the kitchen. There were electric lamps that illuminated the room. Sebastian was still up, washing the dishes. After that nightmare, the sight of him almost brought me relief. My footsteps caught his attention, and he turned around.

“Is something the matter?” He asked in concern. Perhaps my appearance exemplified how I felt. 

“Could I bother you for some water?” Sebastian quickly poured me a glass. He guided me to a small table and sat me down, taking the chair beside me. His inquisitive glance obliged me to share my problem. He listened patiently as I recounted my nightmare, leaving out the more inappropriate aspects. “There was someone in my dream,” I began. I told him how this figure was and how he held me down to bite my neck. “...sort of like a vampire would,” I finished. Having confided in someone else alleviated the heaviness in my head. In fact, the more I told him about the dream, the sillier I felt. “Dreams can feel so real at the moment, but talking about them afterwards shows you how absurd they can be,” I chuckled humourlessly. Sebastian didn’t indulge in my laughter. Instead, he seemed quiet in thought. I grew worried he thought I was prattling on. “Anyway, thank you for listening to my silly dream. I hope you don’t find me childish for dreaming about vampires.”

“I don’t find you crazy, nor do I believe it was just a silly dream,” Sebastian unexpectedly replied. My brows furrowed. “Indeed, it’s a good sign.”

“How is my bad dream a good sign?” 

“I believe you saw that dream because you’re here in this mansion.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure I understand.”

“The dream serves as a warning… That you are to give them neither your body nor your heart.” A pang of unease hit me. This must be the foreboding feeling I had earlier. This must be the reason why even the kindest residents seemed to be hiding a terrible secret. 

“The residents of this mansion, everyone you’ve met tonight…” 

“No,” I whispered under my breath.

“They are exactly what you saw in your dream. They are all vampires.” 

[nuttytani]

Would you love me if I were a worm? Featuring ikemen vampire cast. (With gender neutral reader)

(a/n: when you have too much free time and need your hands to be occupied. Some random bullshit begins to form on your notes)

Napoleon

He finds it funny, why would you turn into a worm?

After seeing your frown tho, he says ok ok yes I will love you

Mozart

Makes a disgusted face and turns you down

First of all, you won't turn into a worm. So why should he answer?

"if people can turn into vampires, why can't I turn into a worm?"

He kicks you out of his piano room

Dude has some thoughts to organise

Leonardo

Laughs at you and says, "what will you do if I say no?"

Pretends to forget about it but after some hours, he comes back to you

"no matter how and what you are or will turn into, I'll still love you"

Arthur

"is this some sort of trick question? Well the answer is obviously yes, my love!"

Vincent

Thinks deeply about it and smiles at you

"of course, I'll still love you. I think you'd make a cute worm too."

Theodorus

Scoffs at you and calls you an idiot

Why would you turn into a worm?

And by chance, you DID turn into one, how was he going to take care of you? There's so many worms out there in the world. What if you get lost and he gets some random worm instead and you, are lost and out in the cold, ready to be squashed by big feet.

Dazai

Uno reverses you instead

Now you're trapped

Would you love him if he was a worm?

Gets sad if you don't answer quickly enough

Sebastian

"I am not doing this right now. If you're free, wash those potatoes instead. I'm already busy as it is"

Stays silent for a while and then sighs

"no matter what, I'd love you always and forever"

Comte

Chuckles a bit at the thought and immediately replies yes

He'd give you a good environment to live in. Some really nutritious soil and compost. Maybe a tiny rock for you to play with

"Comte, you just need to say yes... No need to.... Elaborate on what else you'd do"

"Alright. Well, would you love me if I were a worm?"

Shakespeare

Is fascinated that you even came up with such a question

His answer is yes

But at the same time, he's coming up with scripts that include a dramatic romance between worms. For his own pleasure

Vlad

Says yes immediately.

Thinks you'd look like a cute worm

Maybe he'd put roses next to your habitat or in it.

Charles

"of course! In fact, we can both be worms together! We'll be a happy worm couple"

He's actually taking the idea too seriously and goes ahead making worm habitats and gets a book on "how to raise a worm"

Faust

"I'm not sure. Though I suppose researching on a worm wouldn't be that bad"

Seeing you look unimpressed, he just chuckles while patting your head

"I'm only joking. Of course I'd love you"

[whatever-fanfics]

POV: you need help with your 21st century homework in a mansion full of vampires

~~~

Imagine MC needing sitting on the table, head in their hands, about to cry because NOTHING MAKES SENSE. And in come multiple people who look over MC's shoulder to what's making them so upset, they recognize some of it but not all of it. After pondering with each other they try asking some of the others. 10 minutes later 12 vampires surround the human trying to make sense of numerous subjects. Shakespeare was visiting.

~~~

Arthur & Theo *coming in from a night of drinking*: MC? Hondje? what's wrong

MC *on the verge of tears*: Nothing makes sense🥺😭

Arthur and Theo *walk over and see numerous papers from different subjects*: What is this?

MC: homework from the 21st century 🥺

Arthur *sits down and recognizes some of the works*: Interesting...

Theo *looks over and sees art history papers and papers about painting techniques*: ?!?

Isaac *enters and sees them*: ???

Isaac *walks over and sees calculus and math*: ?!?

Isaac *sits down and recognizes some equations*: I recognize some but not all of them, hold on

Isaac *leaves and comes back with Leonardo*: I brought help

Leonardo *looks over and recognizes problems*: You study this cara?

MC: not by choice 🥲

Napoleon *sleepily wanders over*: ???

Napoleon *sees typed words in French*: Nunuche how did you get your writing so neat?

MC: that's typed, it's my homework

Napoleon *confused, recognizes some but not all*: it's French homework?

MC: Yea... 🥲

Napoleon: hold on

Napoleon *leaves and comes back with le comte*: here

Le Comte *happy to be included*: 😁 homework?

MC: unfortunately 😓

Le comte *sits down*: I see the language has evolved again, this makes things a bit tricky, no matter *starts a whole lecture*

MC *look at the camera like their in The Office*: ...

*Mozart and Jean enter*

Mozart: why are you all so noisy

Mozart *comes over and notices music sheets*: what is this?

MC: homework

Mozart and Jean: Home..work???

Sebastian *appearing out of the void*: school work that you take home and return the next day completed

Literally everyone: where did you come from?

Jean *comes over and sees typed paper*: what is..this?

MC: typed up homework

Jean:...Witchcraft *takes out his sword*

MC: PLEASE NO, I DON'T HAVE ANYMORE COPIES 😭😭😭

*Dazai enters*

Dazai *sees everyone by MC and walks over*:

Dazai *sees his book*: what's this? Everyone: Homework

*Shakespeare enters*

Shakespeare: Good morrow, all 😊

Shakespeare *walks over and sees multiple works of his*: ???

Shakespeare: Good MC, I had no notion of your interest in me ☺️

MC and Theo: It's homework

Theo *puts down art history papers*: be right back

*Theo leaves and comes back with Vincent*

Vincent: MC I didn't know you were so interested in art ☺️😊

MC *didn't want to tell him it was for homework*: yeah...

*Sebastian taking notes furiously in his journal*

~~~

[natimiles]

What is that? (a tattooed reader)

Summary: You tied your hair in a high ponytail that morning, and it was enough for the tip of your tattoo to be visible. You've had it for so long that you're used to it, and sometimes you forget it's there — plus, you forgot that they've never seen it before.

Words: 1716

Tags: reader have tattoos; platonic relationships; more like friendships; no pronouns for reader, but you wear a dress and have sort of long hair.

Can you tell I have favorites? Only Isaac, Mozart, Jean, Arhur, Vincent, Theo, Napoleon and Sebastian show up. Le Comte is vaguely mentioned.

If you're curious to see the tattoos, I linked their images in their respective descriptions throughout the fanfic.

“What is that, mademoiselle?” 

You're helping Sebastian with breakfast, moving around the dining room, but you’ve been feeling a strong stare for a while. You're already accustomed to everyone, so you don't mind. You knew that if it was Isaac trying to muster the courage to ask you something, he would eventually do it. But it’s Jean’s voice, and it catches your attention because he usually eats in silence; and he sounds unsure and curious.

You set Arthur’s coffee in front of him while you glance at the table and everything you and Sebastian made. Perhaps there's something he doesn't know, like when you baked him macarons, but today's menu is the same as usual.

“What is what?”

“That thing,” he points in your direction. 

Isaac, Mozart, Vincent, and Theo are already having breakfast too, but they pause to glance at you, curious about what Jean is talking about. You feel a bit self-conscious and briefly inspect your clothes. Did you spill something? Fortunately, no. 

“I don’t follow, Jean.”

“That thing you have here,” he points at his own back. “I’ve seen it since I sat here to eat, but I can’t understand.”

You raise an eyebrow at him and look over your shoulder, Arthur takes advantage that you’re still by his side to lean backwards on his chair and measure you up and down — and definitely stare at your ass.

“Stop it, perv,” you playfully spat the writer’s arm, earning a chuckle from him. 

“Ah, I think Master Jean is talking about your tattoo,” Sebastian tries to help, pointing at his own nape.

Realization finally hits you. Since arriving at the mansion, you've been exclusively wearing long clothes that cover almost your entire body. However, summer started a few weeks ago, and you've been feeling the full force of the heat. It's scorching every day, and at times, you wake up covered in sweat. You've been yearning for an air conditioner or even just a simple fan. So you bought lighter clothes recently — aka Comte bought you a whole summer wardrobe as a gift. What you're wearing today is just an off-the-shoulder dress, so the front and back necklines are a bit lower than usual, but not by much. However, you tied your hair in a high ponytail that morning, and it was enough for the tip of your tattoo to be visible. You've had it for so long that you're used to it, and sometimes you forget it's there — plus, you forgot that they've never seen it before.

“What is that?” Jean is even more curious now, evident from the way he furrows his brow.

“It's a drawing on my body, made with a special kind of paint that never fades. It's a form of art.”

“Really?” You've piqued Theo's interest in art. “And what is it?”

“Music,” and now you’ve piqued Mozart’s interest in music. He doesn’t really show it, but you know him well enough to see when he’s curious. “Well, kinda. It goes a little down my spine, but it’s safe to show. Sebastian, can you help me, please?”

The butler nods and approaches you. You turn your back and move your ponytail to the side for a better view, while Sebastian lowers your neckline slightly so the others can satisfy their curiosity and see it.

It starts just at the end of your nape and goes 5 inches down. It’s an all-black DNA drawing with musical notes on the middle lines, a representation of a metronome pendulum on top, and a treble clef at the bottom. The middle actually has the same number of lines as a music sheet, and the notes can be read as the first five notes of your favorite song.

There’s only silence for a few moments, and as you turn around, you see that they're still staring at you. You think Theo hadn't even blinked until now because he suddenly blinks a lot, and his eyes meet yours.

“It’s pretty!” Vicent smiles like the angel he is. “Is it a real song?”

“It is,” Mozart hums the notes, his eyes conveying that he knows it’s your favorite song.

You've told him once, when you went to the music room to give him an afternoon snack. You were already friends (kind of), so when you saw he wasn't there at the moment, you knew he wouldn't mind if you sat down and softly played it; so you did. The next thing you knew, he was barging into the music room to scold whoever had the audacity to touch his piano, but he stopped when he saw you. He may have asked you to write down the notes so he could play it with you.

“Oh, yeah, you played it for us in the last banquet,” Isaac remembers.

“Does it hurt?” Jean asked, curious again. 

“No, not anymore. It hurt when I was getting it done. Boy, that was one hell of a ride,” you laugh. “But it’s been years, so it’s all healed and okay now.”

“It suits you, hondje. Do you have more?”

“I do!” You beam at them, feeling all bubbly inside. It's lovely how they always show interest in anything about you and remember what you like. “It’s on my thigh.” You use the tip of your toes to put more leverage on your right leg, grabbing a fistful of the skirt of your dress. You lift it to show them your tattoo, but a hand stops you when it's reaching your knee.

“Nunuche, what the hell?” 

Napoleon had just woken up and was joining you in the dining room. Did you say something about your thigh? He was still a little sleepy, so he thought he heard you wrong. But then you grabbed your dress… What the fuck do you think you’re doing? He was at your side in the blink of an eye, gripping your wrists tightly and looking at you with a panic expression. It’d certainly be red in a second, if the loud slap sound was any indication. 

And that’s how you make vampires choke on their foods and drinks. You look at them, a confused expression on your face. Isaac spat his tea all over his plate and is now coughing to clear his throat. Jean dropped his fork, frozen in his chair. Mozart is blinking in a frenzy, his mug in such a tight grip on his hand that his knuckles are white. Vincent is blushing furiously, his mouth agape. Theo is actually amused, and you clearly heard Arthur complaining to Napoleon that it was just getting good. 

“What’s wrong?” You ask, startled. 

“MC, just remember we’re not in the 21st century,” Sebastian says, clearly holding a smirk. 

You feel your entire face heat up. Oh my God! That was certainly an uncomfortable situation. But you were so used to them; they made you feel at home, so you didn’t really think about what you were doing.

“Oh, right, sorry,” You chuckle and blush under the intensity of their stares. “But it’s no big deal, really. Sebastian and le Comte have already seen it.”

“Say that again?” Theo asks as his gaze drifts to the butler, just like everyone else's. 

“It’s nothing weird!” You can almost feel the emperor’s grip tightening. Sometimes he was so overprotective — they all were, and it was both endearing and funny. You huff. “We were talking about the 21st century, and I told Sebas that I have tattoos and showed him. Simple as that. Lots of people wear clothes that show a lot of skin in modern days. Do you think I would lift my dress to show the tattoo when I’m right next to Arthur if it wasn’t okay?” You deadpan Napoleon.

“Hey!” The writer complains, but everybody ignores him. You do have a point.

Napoleon frowns, but slowly releases you. You look at the others and just from a look they know you’ll be mad if they freak out again, so they try to act cool. Keyword: try. They’re staring so much you think they’ll open a hole in your thigh, but at least they’re quiet. You lift the dress just a little more and your tattoo is finally showing. It’s colorful and about the same size as the other. There’s white fine lines connecting dots, forming the Leo constellation, with a blue-purple watercolor background.

“Yes, luv! Now that’s a good breakfast,” Arthur smirks and places his elbow on the table to support his head as he looks at you. He’s so glad that Jean started this conversation while you were still beside him. Napoleon purses his lips and glares at the writer, but he knows better than to start a fight. His nunuche wouldn't let him live it down. 

“What the fuck is that?” Theo raises an eyebrow. Don’t get him wrong, he likes the art, but he just doesn’t understand what it’s supposed to be.

“Theo, language,” Vincent scolds his brother. He doesn’t want you to think they don’t like it.

“Is it upside down?” Jean frowns and tilts his head, trying to get a different angle, but it doesn’t make a difference.

"It's the Leo constellation," you chuckle and glance at Isaac, knowing he would understand. He enjoyed stargazing and always invited you to join him, especially after discovering your shared interest — then he started rambling about physics and astronomy, and you were lost.

“Oh, the stars,” Vincent says.

"So," Theo begins, and you can tell from his amused tone that he's about to say something to make you blush, "you have one that resembles Mozart and another that resembles Isaac."

“No, no. It’d have to be an apple for Newt,” Arthur grins when the poor physicist blushes as red as… the mentioned fruit.

“You’re the worst,” Isaac mumbles under his breath.

You chuckle at their banter. “So that’s it,” you say, releasing your dress. “We have a lot of things to do. So finish your breakfasts quickly.” You clap your hands twice.

“Indeed,” Sebastian nods in agreement.

You have moments of silence after that and you go back to work, but you feel the stares the whole day. You know they still have so much to say and ask, but they stay quiet.

You have some “not-so-permanent tattoos” now — and they might have helped do some.

I don't have tattoos yet, but I really want it. I'd make the first one, but with colors.

Crossposted on AO3.

Masterlists

[duckyfann9871]

I want to be a vampire too: rant

played 2 routes of ikemen vampire so far. I love the game, but both times I have wished that there was an option to join them as a vampire at the end.

I don't understand why becoming a vampire is posed so negatively in the game, but whenever it comes up in the routes it's coded like it's a terrible option that MC doesn't want to do.

Well, au contraire! If I had a chance to become a sexy vampire in a mansion full of other sexy vampires I would take it ... especially if the person I was in love with was also a vampire. If both are vampires doesn't that mean more time you get to be together??

TLDR I want to become a vampire at the end of my romance and I haven't had my way yet,

[alby-rei]

Growing Pains: Hand-Washing Clothes (IkeVamp; Sebastian & MC)

Prompt: Write a story all in dialogue, must include characters washing clothes. Characters: MC/You, Sebastian Word count: ~350 words Tags: Pre-relationship, Humor, MC is new to the housekeeper life a/n: Wrote this a while back as a warm up. When I saw this prompt, Sebastian came to mind instantly. I imagine they would've had this convo early on in MC's "recruitment". Figured I might as well show I'm still alive and writing! Consider this another entry in Memories of the Mansion. Back to Masterlist

~*~

“Why must Arthur always come back with blood stains on his collar?”

“If the blood makes you uncomfortable, I can do it instead.”

“It’s not so much the blood as it is the implication of what he’s doing.”

“Ah…yes. I can see how that would be unsettling.”

“When did you get used to washing blood of everyone’s clothes?”

“Hmm. Hold on, let me hang this to dry while I think…it didn’t long, maybe two weeks? I started working at the mansion after Sir Isaac joined, specifically because of his…side-effects to his vampirism. Blood wasn’t something that particularly bothered me, but it did take time to get used to the smell of Rouge in the kitchen.”

“I see… Aha! Finally got the spot to come out. Comte doesn’t pay me enough for this.”

“He pays you?”

“Good point. We should both demand a raise.”

“Speak for yourself, I’m perfectly content as I am.”

“That’s because you have access to all of his money as his butler.”

“As do you. You know he’ll never say no to any request you make. You may as well make good use of that.”

“If there’s anything I would ask for, it’s a proper washing machine…were those not invented yet?”

“If they were, we would have our own.”

“Ughhh. No dishwasher, no washing machine. Next thing you’ll tell me, the vacuum cleaner wasn’t invented yet!”

“…”

“…Sebastian, when was the vacuum cleaner invented?”

“For the last time, just because I’m from the 21st century, doesn’t make me a walking, talking Google search engine.”

“…Worth a shot.”

[Bonus scene]

“Now then, back to work. We’ll never get to washing the bed sheets if you’re this slow with the clothes.”

“There’s more?!”

“And then the linens, and then the—”

“And you’re telling me you did all of this by yourself before I came along?”

“Yes, as to be expected. I wouldn’t want our esteemed guests to be burdened by manual labor when they should be focusing on their work.”

“Most of them aren’t even employed! They just sit around and…actually what do they do all day?”

~*~

Back to Masterlist

[y4h3l1n]

No hay contenido de Ikemen Vampire en español, tendre que hacerlo yo...

Y si por las dudas, no, no se mucho inglés y me la paso en traductor en el juego, y también viendo otras publicaciones en el navegador para que se traduzca automáticamente.

Además soy MUY timida, me da mucha pena hablar con otros jugadores de Ikemvamp, por el traductor y se que no es 100% fiable.

Pero no pierdo nada intentando no?....

Así que podría traducirlo.

MANNN

[malachiexists13]

Requests Temporarily Closed.

[SMUT] W.I.P (Johann Georg Faust) - Coming Soon [SMUT] ??? || "Comte" (?) [SMUT] ??? || "Faust" (?) [SMUT] ??? || "Sebastian" (?) [SMUT] ??? || "Mozart" (?) [SMUT] ??? || "Faust" (?)

[Opinions] Gay or Nay?: Ikemen Series Edition [Opinions] Would I Punch This Character?: Ikevamp Edition

Nothing to be seen here yet...

Nothing to be seen here yet...

Nothing to be seen here yet...

[FLUFF] Almost Perfect || AO3 Link (OC - F)

Nothing to be seen here yet...

Nothing to be seen here yet...

[SMUT] A Single Taste || AO3 Link (OC - M)

Nothing to be seen here yet...

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

Back to Main Masterlist ~

All works found in these masterlists are only posted to Tumblr and Archive of Our Own under the name "Malachi Exists" or another variation with the number "13". If they are found elsewhere, that means it is a stolen work and should be reported as such.

[fang-and-feather]

Ikemen Vampire - Leonardo x Reader

Words: 1,042

Summary: A break on a cold day, before tackling the big task of cleaning the library, in your boyfriend’s arms, cozy under your favorite blanket, was just what you needed. You didn't expect taking the "warming up" that far. Not that you were complaining.

Rating: Explicit/NSFW

Tags: Semi-Public Sex, Non-Penetrative Sex

For Week V of Ikemen Prompts at @ikemenprompts, prompt(s): Library and Sweet & Spicy Wintertime hosted by @xxsycamore, prompt(s): Touching under the blanket and favorite blanket

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

You loved Leonardo, but sometimes he was just exasperating.

You shouldn’t be surprised to find him sleeping on the library’s floor. What should have been a high stack of books was now tumbled to the floor beside him, others open around.

But finding him in random spots like this hadn’t been so common during winter. It almost looked like he had better sense for once.

Of course he didn’t, and before you was the proof. As if you needed one.

Sighing, you gathered all the books and set them aside, before returning to his room and grabbing a blanket.

“You really should sleep in your room, you know?” You chuckled, kissing his forehead as you adjusted the blanket over him. “Not that you care. But for me, seeing you this vulnerable makes me want to take advantage of you.”

You leaned in to kiss him, but before you could, Leonardo opened his eyes a crack, giving you his usual smile.

“Then why don’t you, cara mia?” He asked, his husky, sleepy voice making you shiver.

The blanket fell aside as he reached for you, tugging on your arm, making you tumble forward, right into his embrace, before he threw the blanket over both of your bodies.

“Leonardo! I have to get back to work.” You finally managed to protest, trying to push yourself to stand up and leave, but he wrapped an arm loosely around your waist.

“Well, I think it’s about time you get a break. You work too hard, sometimes.”

“I’m not working too hard. And you were only pretending to be sleeping?”

“No. I woke up to the around of your sweet voice saying such naughty things.” He caressed your lips with a thumb. “And you’re cold. That’s enough reason for you to take a break. We don’t want you getting sick, do we?”

He turned you around so you were sitting on his lap and adjusted the blanket to keep both of you warm.

You gave in then. A break was just what you needed. In your boyfriend’s arms, cozy under your favorite blanket. Maybe a quick nap. You should have known that last part was out of question now that Leonardo was awake.

Instead, what you got was a hand groping you while the other hugged you to him.

“Leonardo. Here’s not the place for this.” You tried to protest. But it sounded unconvincing even to you. “Anyone could walk in.”

“No one will come here when they know you will be cleaning.”

“Sebastian could.”

“I think he’ll be a little too busy with you being here to supervise.” Like always, you couldn’t argue with him. Leonardo had already thought of everything. “Besides,” he added, teeth grazing the tip of your ear, “no one would even notice, as long as you stay quiet.”

Easy for him to say when you were the one who had him nibbling on your ear, as well as a pair of hands sneaking under your clothes, one cupping a breast, and the other tracing patterns on your thig.

You had to bite back a moan when he pinched your nipple, and a whimper still escaped when he rubbed over your clit with the heel of the other hand.

Despite his words, Leonardo seemed intent on making you anything but quiet.

“Seems like you’re warm already, cara mia. Do you want to stop?”

He was such a bastard sometimes! He started this, and he already knew your answer. In any other place you would have attempted to take over. Turn the tables on him. But here you just wanted this to be quick.

Didn’t mean you wouldn’t do something later.

“I want you to stop teasing me already.” You reached back with both arms and tangled your hands on his hair, pulling his head closer to your neck.

Sometimes you had such an urge to have him bite you, despite knowing he wouldn’t. What you got was him sucking on your skin, leaving marks you probably would have some difficulty hiding. Which you wouldn’t mind if they hadn’t been made while you should be working.

His hand on your breast moved down, light touches tickling your skin, making you squirm, while the other hand finally pushed your underwear out of the way, fingers making direct contact with your clit, then slipped down to tease your entrance before moving back up again.

“You’re so wet already. Is it just me, or does the risk of getting caught excites you?”

You couldn’t contain your moans for long, as his hands explored more of you, making every inch of skin tingle and burn. A louder whimper came out when his hand moved down your other thig, and an even louder moan when it moved back up, fingers twisting your clit lightly.

“That’s it, cara mia. Let yourself go. Think of nothing but me, and let me hear you.”

Your grip on him tightened as he brought you to your climax, his hands still teasing you until it subsided and your body went limp.

“Good girl.” Leonardo adjusted your position and the now-messed-up blanket to cuddle you to his chest and keep you warm. Not that the heat between you was cooling down already. “It feels better now, doesn’t it? Rest a little, and you can get back to work a little warmer.” He kissed your forehead.

From searing hot to sweetly warm. The shift would feel strange coming from anyone else, but with Leonardo, you just accepted it and snuggled into his chest.

“What about you?”

You could feel how wound up he was, and it was only right you helped a little. You weren’t so tired that you couldn’t.

“As much as I would love your help, if I get started now, I’m not going to let you go for the rest of the day.” He chuckled, kissing you. “I’ll get my books and go back to my room when you go back to work. Maybe take a bath. But if you find me sleeping again, I wouldn’t mind you ‘taking advantage’” Leonardo winked at you, making you blush.

You knew if you found him sleeping in his room for once, it would be on purpose, but that wouldn’t keep you from doing just that.

Tag List: @tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles, @bicayaya, @eventinelysplayground

If you want to be tagged/untagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

[sanchoi21]

Forbidden Thoughts

Vlad Ikemen Vampire x Reader

Warning: Mentions of blood drinking, smut, fingering, obsession and kidnapping. Mostly fluff but smut coded. Enjoy!

Being with the residents of mansion was nice, but you couldn't help but miss the white haired and red eyed man who had captured all your thoughts. You had met him on the snowy day when he was alone and so were you, since you couldn't return back home. But he had healed and calmed your heart in all the ways possible.

Sometimes you wondered why everyone asked you to be away from him, since he is dangerous. You couldn't see any ounce of danger lurking in his gaze, all you saw was a broken man who yearned for your love. As days passed by, your visits to the local market increased, you insisted Sebastian to go alone since you didn't wanna bother him, but the real reason was that you wanted to meet Vlad. Though he was suspicious of you he still allowed you to go, not paying much attention to it.

You and Vlad would spend hours chatting, playing with kids at orphanage or dancing to the melodies played by local musicians. It was bliss. Your heart would always ache to say bye every evening to him, not knowing when will you get to spend such time again together. Loving Vlad was like reading a forbidden book that was so forbidden that you weren't even allowed to touch it. Though things were now sorted with Vlad and Comte, their cold war was still on, since Comte couldn't completely trust Vlad yet. You were the one who was caught in between though.

Today just like every other day, you went to shopping at the market late in the evening. You walked through the crowded streets of Paris which now had a soft glow because of the setting sun, making the view a lot more admirable. The street lights were slowly turning on, as carriages moved from one place to other, the shops and restaurants were lively at this hour. You admired the beauty of the night city as you shopped for the ingredients. After you were done, a faint smell of roses, enter your senses. 'Vlad... It must be him', you thought as your feet carried you in that direction.

You soon saw the cart that was now empty and the handsome man standing beside it, selling the last of his flowers. The soft glow of the setting sun made him look even more ethereal than he already was. The sweet smile on his face was more sweeter than any flower you ever saw. His slender and beautiful hands which elegantly held the flower were more beautiful than any of those flowers in his cart, or maybe the entire world. You sometimes wished those hands were at places that you shouldn't have imagined off. You wished his mouth was not used only for his sweet talking. You shaked off all these unholy thoughts as you approached him. Thoughts that you should never even think of.

Y/n: Vlad...how have you been?

Vlad: I have been lonely without you. I missed you Y/n.

He said as a soft sad smile spread across his features.

Vlad: Here, the most beautiful rose for the most beautiful lady.

He said as he gracefully handed you the rose. It was a single red rose, whose color was blood red, just like his eyes. You quickly took it from his hands and smelled it.

Something felt off. His smile, the rose that he gave you, and the lack of people in the alley, something was definitely off.

As soon as you thought this, your consciousness began to slip away as you fell right into his arms.

Vlad smirked to himself as he saw you fall into his arms.

Vlad: How long have I waited for this day, my dear. Sleep sleep at the edge of dreams.

You soon went into deep slumber as you had no sense of your surroundings.

Vlad returned your shopped items and a letter to the mansion, that would let Comte know that you are safe with him. Since he knew you would be concerned about the residents. He gently laid you down in his empty cart which had a soft bedsheet covering it. He silently moved the cart through the night as he walked his way home, without anyone knowing what had happened with you.

Once he reached the mansion, he took you to his bed chambers and gently put you down on his soft mattress.

Soon after sometime you regained your consciousness as you slowly opened your eyes adjusting to the dim light of the room, you realized it wasn't your own room. You panicked as you took in your surroundings. The moonlight that entered the room through the stained glass and the enormous amount of books that surrounded the place, and the scent of roses, were more than enough to tell you that it was Vlad's room. You sighed in relief knowing it was none other than Vlad, but you wondered, why he had kidnapped you in the first place?

Vlad soon entered the room and was happy to see you awake.

Vlad: Ohh, you are awake my dear, are you feeling well?

Y/n: Yes, I am feeling quite better now. But first tell me, why am I here? I mean you could have just asked me to come with you and I would have agreed to it.

Vlad: But where's the fun in that, dear?

You stared at him in bewilderment, he seems different, definitely not the calm man who took his decisions wisely. His eyes were more redder than ever as they looked like pools of blood, not normal blood but the unholy blood, the one that is used to depict demons in folklore. Chills ran down your spine as you saw Vlad in this form. It seemed like his true feral form, which he had tried so hard to hide from you. His hair seemed slightly long, his nails were red and bigger, his fangs were protruding out, and his eyes that stared at you as if you were his prey.

You hate to admit it, but his messy form, only attracted you more, like a moth to a flame. You stared at him as he was quick to notice you drooling over his newly discovered form. A low chuckle escaped him. Even his voice sounded deeper.

Vlad: So even this isn't enough to scare you away?!

Y/n: Why would you even want to do that?

Vlad: I was just trying to give you a last chance to get away from me before I take your humanity and finally bite you to make you mine and one of my kind today. And also before I take your virginity.

You blushed deeply at his statement.

Y/n: You...you plan to t-take my...v-virginity?!

Vlad: Why, you don't want me to? And I see you have no fear of losing your humanity then?

He said while smirking devilishly, knowing exactly what you meant.

Y/n: Y-you!!

Vlad: Haha, I can't help it, you are so cute that it makes me wanna tease you more. So tell me Y/n, what do you want me to do? I won't do anything you don't desire.

Y/n: Of course I want you to bite me as well as take my virginity, I don't care about being a vampire if it means that I can be by your side forever.

You answered abruptly, in the fear of him backing down on his offer. Vlad chuckled loudly, the kind that sent shivers down your spine.

Vlad: Ohh, so we are eager aren't we??

Y/n: V-Vlad...just stop teasing. I.. I just want you to be mine... That's all.

He smiled fondly at you, as he came closer and caresses your cheek.

Vlad: This is my true form, Y/n. I took this form just so you should know what you are dealing with. But it surprised me to see you simping more for me rather than turning away, how so?

Y/n: If you keep saying you are scary or you are a monster, I'll keep kissing you till you get that shit outta your head. You are nothing but sweet to me, then how the hell am I supposed to be scared?! And about your true form, I can't help it but find it more hot. And you might think I am crazy, if I said I always wanted your fingers somewhere else on me and now I just want them more.

Vlad, was surprised as he stared at you with wide eyes but ended up laughing soon.

Vlad: I guess I should say it often so that you keep kissing me. And I am so glad that you find me hot. But tell me, where exactly do you want my fingers?

Y/n: D-d-deep..deep...i-inside m-me...

Vlad: So...my naughty girl was thinking about this all along? I guess I should have done this sooner.

He said as he pinned you to his bed and got on top of you.

Vlad: Now tell me where..exactly do you want it and how? Ok..

You kept blushing as Vlad was bow being more bold with you as compared to his regular shy self. His fingers kept going on all the places that you desired them to be. His fangs soon sunk deeper into your neck as you moaned his name and your mind went completely blank, as he drank your blood. You were high, you have never felt this way. As Vlad, kept sucking your blood, checking on you from time to time to ensure you are ok, you felt yourself on cloud nine. You pulled him closer as he was about to move away in order to stop himself from drinking more of your sweet blood. He couldn't resist you any longer. His bite was addicting, it felt like a slow poison that spread throughout your veins, as it burned your insides, slowly and sweetly. You couldn't resist him any longer either. You had enough of being away from him.

You both spent the night together in each other's arms as Vlad kept marking you up and you did the same with him. His true form was truly overwhelming as you couldn't help but get lost into those blood red eyes, just earning a hearty chuckle from him. The way he praised you in his deep voice was worth all the effort you went through. That night you both took each other's virginity, and he took your humanity to make you a vampire. You body will now slowly undergo changes but it'll be fine since you have him by your side.

You peacefully slept in his arms, knowing that he will be right by your side as you wake up tomorrow and for all the days to come.

Vlad stared at you as he woke up the next day. He was more than overwhelmed to finally have you all to himself. You slowly opened your eyes, just to find him staring at you fondly.

Vlad: Are you ok? Does it hurt anywhere?

Y/n: Haha, asks the one who was so rough last night!

Vlad: Says the one who kept begging for more!

Y/n: Y-you!!

You hit his arms playfully as you both burst out laughing.

Y/n: Just carry me all day, since I can't walk because of you.

Vlad: I can carry you whole week if you want me to or maybe whole month, say, wanna go again?

You blushed as you hit him hard this time and hugged him to ease the pain. As you both wished each other good morning and began your day, you were happy to be able to love him freely from now on and he was happy to have you by his side, no matter the ways.

I always personally wished Vlad, should have kidnapped the MC, just like Faust had done. It would have been so much fun to see the feral and yandere side of our Vlad.

[midwinterrmemento]

Paille-au-nez

➢ pairing: Napoleon x GN!Reader [Ikemen Vampire]

➢ genre: fluff

➢ word count: 500 (exactly 😮‍💨)

➢ prompt: Give him a nickname adjacent to his "Nunuche"

A short and sweet fic for the birthday boy, and a last minute entry for @xxsycamore's challenge to (affectionately) bully him in under 500 words 💕 I wrote this one quickly and I'm sure it'll show, but when I read this prompt, it made me think of something I once read about irl napoleon, and so... I wanted to give it a try at least!

“See you tonight, nunuche.” 

“Alright, paille-au-nez.”

Napoleon, who was on his way out the door, abruptly paused in his tracks as he processed what you said. He turned back to face you with a bewildered expression, only to find you standing at the sink, nonchalantly resuming your chores.

“...Nunuche?”

“Hmm?” You hummed innocently.

“What did you just say?”

As you scrubbed a plate, you were relieved to have your back turned to him, so he couldn’t see how you were biting back a smile. “I said, ‘Alright, Napoleon.’” 

After a beat, you heard his boots crossing the floor, and then you felt that familiar presence standing behind you, those familiar eyes boring into your back. Even without turning around, you could picture the disbelief on his face as he studied you. “That’s not what I heard.”

“Of course it was. What else would I have said?” 

Stepping closer, Napoleon reached around you to pluck the rag and plate from your hands, setting them down. Despite your best efforts to hide it, you knew he could see through you as he tilted your face towards his. 

“And just what are you smiling for, then, hm?” 

“No reason,” you said, even as you felt your grin stretching involuntarily.

Napoleon narrowed his eyes, and you struggled to hold it together under his scrutiny. Lucky for you, he never could resist that little smile, even when it served as proof of your guilt.

“You know what I think?” He leaned a little closer, green eyes watching you keenly. “I think a certain someone… must’ve heard something from Sebastian…”

“Really?” You pretended to mull it over. “I can’t think of anything.”

Napoleon couldn’t help but grin a little now, too, as you continued to play ignorant. “Something about… an old childhood nickname, perhaps…?”

“Oh, right, I remember now. You mean how your classmates misheard ‘Napoleone’ and started to call you—”

“Don’t say it.” 

“—paille-au-nez?”

He poked you on the forehead. “Tais-toi.” 

“What?” you laughed, rubbing the spot. “I think it’s endearing. It suits you.”

Napoleon raised an eyebrow. “I look like I have straw up my nose?”

“Sometimes.”

He sighed, though the little smile tugging at his lips suggested that he wasn’t truly upset. “Oh, nunuche… What am I going to do with you?”

“You could stop calling me that, for one.” You challenged playfully. “Since I, too, have ammunition now…”

“Ammunition? Is that what you’re calling it?”

“From now on, every ‘nunuche’ earns you one ‘paille-au-nez.’”

He huffed amusedly. “Comme c’est cruel.”

With that, he dipped his head down to kiss you, effectively wiping the triumphant smirk off your face. Upon pulling back, his eyes shone with mirth. 

“It’s been a century since I’ve heard that. At least it’s more charming coming from you. I can’t say I ever wanted to kiss one of those miserable kids for saying that…”

“Then you won’t mind if I make a habit of it?” you quipped cheekily.

Another kiss to silence you.

“...Don’t push your luck, nunuche...”

[gunraekae]

love transcending time - aka ikevamp unnecessarily narrated

>ikemen vampire

>everyone x reader

>a/n: dont mind me just leaving my cave to post this

trust i have a headcanon style post in the works and uploaded sometime in the next week or so, i'm just a bit overwhelmed with term papers and stuff sorryyy

enjoy and have a wonderful day dear

Chapter II: The Banquet

At the foot of the staircase was the mysterious gentleman I encountered at the Louvre. He gave a pointed glance to the men. At the sight of him, a wave of relief surged through me and I ran down the staircase towards him. 

“It’s you!” I hurried down and stopped short in front of him. Suddenly remembering my composure, I clarified the situation, “Pardon, but do you remember me? We met in front of the ‘Coronation of Napoleon’ and you helped me.” 

 I was met with a warm smile, “Of course I remember you.” Alright, I can ask him about an exit—any exit—and I can get a ride back to my aunt. 

Before I could ask him for directions, my saviour “Leon,” stepped in between us. “She says she came here through your door. Did you bring her?” His tone, and the way he hid me from the prying eyes of everyone, all of it feels as if he was… protecting me. 

“I did not. I can give you my oath if you wish,” the gentleman mused, “her arrival is just as surprising to me.” 

“Then how did she get here?” Although the men didn’t seem hostile, what they were talking about still made me uneasy. What did they mean by “his” door? And why did they talk about “my arrival” as if it was an impossible feat? Where even am I? I don’t understand at all. Something is very wrong here. I just need to get out. At the new wave of apprehension, I remember my aunt. She must be so worried. How long has it even been? I rummaged around my pocket for my phone. 2:50 pm. No signal. What is going on? 

I found the last ounce of courage I had and interjected, “You’ve been very kind, but I really can’t stay. I was supposed to meet up with someone. We’re still in the 1st arrondissement, yes? Where the Louvre is? That door there, does it lead outside?” I asked my questions rapidly before anyone could interrupt me. 

His expression turned difficult, “Hmm… I’m afraid the answers you seek will only confuse you more.” My pleading gaze met the gentleman’s golden eyes. “This isn’t the place for a long discussion, however. Would you join me for dinner, chère?” I asked a yes or no question. Any rationality left in my mind crumbled, and it seemed to show on my face, as the gentleman hurriedly added, “Tonight’s banquet is a rare occasion for us. But afterward, I will answer all your questions. S’il vous plait.” With a sigh, I resigned myself to his wishes. After all, if there was any person who knew my predicament, it was him. 

Having owned a travel blog, I’d been to many hotels, from the hidden gems to the 5-star establishments, I’d seen it all. The gentleman’s dining room was unlike anything I’d ever seen. A stretching room with a long, clothed table with fourteen high-backed wooden chairs framing it. The mahogany walls had intricate wooden carvings around the high ceiling, and a warm atmosphere coated the room with the chandeliers and the candelabras. Four men were already seated. 

The beautiful pianist with the sharp tongue sat at the far end, secluded from the others. He was true to his statement from before—he truly looked displeased in being here. 

Around the centre of the table sat two men beside each other. 

“Must’ve been something pretty important to keep us waiting here. One second longer and I would’ve left.” The first man’s voice was familiar, being the Englishman’s companion in the hallway I entered. His husky voice, with the Dutch accent, matched his appearance—domineering and brusque. He had slicked-back, brown hair and steely blue eyes with a cold expression. He donned a long grey coat, fastened with gold accessories on top of a dark blue sweater, layered over a neat white button-up; basically, what a sensible businessman would wear if he was born a century ago. His tall stature and strong build were noticeable, with him being the largest of the men so far. 

“Now, now. Getting angry about dinner is not going to make the food come out any faster.” The second man seemed the exact opposite, being much easier on the eyes. He had fluffy blonde hair, and even though the two had the same blue eyes, this man was so warm, you almost couldn’t tell. His dimpled smile was almost angelic. He wore a shorter dark brown coat with a yellow sweater on top of a white shirt, but the most attention-grabbing piece was his long yellow scarf loosely wrapped around him. He was somewhat smaller than his presumed brother. 

“I have to be angry for two, mijn broer,” the gruff one said. The two Dutch brothers seemed close despite being polar opposites. 

The kind brother’s eyes landed on me, and he gave a welcoming smile, “Who’s that? Do we have a guest? It’s nice to meet you!” 

My uneasiness was somewhat alleviated by his warm character. He looked like the paintings of the angels I’d seen in the musée. A few words from him make me feel like everything’s better. We need more people like him. 

The fourth man was sat a little ways away from everyone, head down and eyes studying the piece of tablecloth he was fiddling with. He looked slightly younger than the others, his innocent cherry eyes matched his auburn hair. He wore a sensible white button-up with a grey vest that had a red lapel. A golden button of an apple was stitched to the collar, giving his otherwise professional outfit an almost adorable finish. 

His gaze darted around the room, briefly meeting mine then quickly returning to the tablecloth, “Whoever you are, have you considered sitting down? There’s a queue behind you waiting to get in, you know.” His voice was light and airy with a crisp English accent. 

The Englishman’s chipper voice greeted the shy boy, “Newt, old boy, you do care!” 

He bristled, “Can you desist calling me that wretched—!” “Newt” placed his hands on the table, as though intending to stand up. 

A disciplinary clap sounded behind me. “That will be enough of that, you two. I require good manners at my table.” The gentleman gave everyone a warning look masked by his cordial smile. “Let’s be seated. There’s a few empty chairs, but we’ll have to start the toast without them.” The butler had already snuck into the kitchen, presumably preparing the dinner. The Englishman sat beside the gruff Dutch brother while “Leon” sat beside the shy boy. He gave me a warm glance as if reassuring me that I was safe here. I couldn’t muster up a smile, so instead I gave him a timid nod. Meanwhile, the gentleman gently placed a hand on my back and guided me to a seat beside his, which was at the head of the table. 

The various personalities together seemed as if they wouldn’t mesh well together, but surprisingly, with everyone seated down, it felt like they were all a family. 

“A vôtre santé!” The gentleman raised a glass filled with golden champagne in a toast. A chorus of toasts responded to him by the men. While most of the men kept drinking, the pianist took one sip before quickly placing down his glass. Not quite trusting the gentleman from his elusiveness, but wanting to be courteous, I pretended to take a sip instead. I was too wary. Too much didn’t make sense. It should be almost 3 in the afternoon, and yet I was having dinner in a strange mansion. I should have been at the Louvre with my aunt, and now I’m dining with seven strange men. Interrupting my thoughts, the butler brought out the first course. To say the food looked like a culinary masterpiece was doing it injustice. It was a classic French spread, the sort that I had at the hotels but somehow even better. Still, I remained wary and didn’t make a move. Instead, I turned my attention to my companions. Who are all these men? They seemed normal, if not odd, but their appearances were so unusual. And they were all from different countries, so was this an international meeting of some kind? They don’t seem to be friends, but it felt like there was an ambiguous intimacy between them all. The gentleman, noticing my uneasiness, inclined his glass my way. 

“Let us toast to tonight’s most glorious and miraculous encounter. Santé.” His alluring gaze was comforting, if not off-putting in its warmth. “...à la vôtre.” With such a direct toast, it was impolite not to respond in turn. I timidly raised my glass to his. He finished the rest of his champagne, locking his gaze with mine. Feeling guilty and slightly charmed, I took a small sip of mine. Unfortunately, it tasted wonderful. 

I turned back towards the food laid out in front of me. My stomach quietly grumbled; embarrassed, I looked around hoping no one noticed. Wishing to justify my hunger, I rationalized that it would be insulting if I didn’t eat. I tried the terrine. Pheasant with fresh basil. And it tasted as exquisite as it looked. The bisque was delicious too. You can taste the crab. It’s thickened just right! I closed my eyes. Whoever made this food should be as famous as Gordon Ramsay. My increasing satisfaction with the food was noticed by the gentleman, and awkwardly, I chirped, “My compliments to the chef.” The butler from earlier, who dutifully stood by the kitchen’s entry seemed to relax from his stiff composure. 

He chuckled, “he’ll be pleased to hear that.” Whether it was the champagne or his ardent smile, my nerves considerably eased. Maybe he’s just a harmless nobleman and I’m overthinking everything. Really, if you looked at this scene objectively, I was having a perfectly pleasant evening. Wasn’t this the sort of romantic adventure I was looking for in coming to Paris? 

At the gentleman’s words, the men’s amicable chatter was silenced. “You’ve outdone yourself again Sebastian.” His disarming charisma powered over the room. He looked over the men and said, “I believe we should take this opportunity to introduce ourselves to our guest. I will start us off. Everyone has taken to calling me Comte de Saint-Germain.” Comte? A whole count? Maybe that explains this old-word aura he has. “And once again, it’s a pleasure to meet you, chèrie.” 

“Oh no, the pleasure’s all mine, Comte,” I mumbled, slightly flustered at his manners and my lack of it. I could feel the manor’s members’ eyes on me, and my face warmed at the attention. God, I’m making such a fool of myself. Le Comte de Saint-Germain next turned to his servant. 

“This hard-working butler and the chef of tonight’s excellent banquet is Sebastian,” he fondly introduced. The stern butler from earlier formally bowed. 

“It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he said. He spoke English with a faint Japanese accent. The butler Sebastian—how conveniently named. 

The Comte turned back towards me, “It occurs to me we haven’t heard your name yet. I’d be pleased to know it.” 

There can’t be any harm in telling them that. “I’m… MC,” I clumsily introduced myself. I avoided the eyes of everyone in the room, incredibly self-conscious and still apprehensive. 

“That’s such a pretty name,” the kind Dutch brother piped up. His angelic face, which was sat across from me, was the first to reply, “I wasn’t expecting someone like you to turn up here. I hope we can be friends.” I finally raised my head and met his eyes to be polite, and his expression looked relieved at that. “I’m Vincent van Gogh, I’m a painter. It’s really nice to meet you.” I almost choked on my spit. A painter… named Vincent van Gogh. Is this some kind of themed event? Hoping not to seem offensive at my clumsy actions, I mustered a smile back. He seemed too kind to deserve my stupidity. “And this is my little brother. Go on, Theo, introduce yourself.” 

“Vincent” gently nudged his brother, the gruff Dutch businessman. 

“Theodorus van Gogh. I’m an art dealer. Don’t confuse me with my brother.” 

“I’ll, uh, try my best.” They couldn’t be more opposite. I’m not confusing you two. “You’re not getting anything else from me. Introduction’s over.” To hammer in his point, he took a pocket watch from his coat and tapped it repeatedly, tap-tap-tap, to show that he had better things to do. How could Vincent be older? Theo had me pegged as the older brother with his seriousness. Realizing I was staring at the two of them in puzzlement, my gaze returned to the table. 

Sitting to the right of Theodorus was the shy boy, “Newt,” who was difficult to make eye contact with, the both of us too nervous. If he could’ve curled up into a ball to be swallowed up by the ground, he would have. That being said, doesn’t he live here? I had more of a reason to be afraid of him than he was of me. “I’m Isaac. Isaac Newton. I study physics.” 

“Nice to meet you… Isaac,” I choked out. A physicist named Isaac. They can’t possibly be serious. Despite the absurdity of this situation, I was still fearful of being deemed impolite. “Wait. Should that be ‘Sir Isaac—?’” 

Suddenly, one of the dining room windows burst open. To my surprise, a man climbed in from the outside. I flinched from my seat and quickly glanced around to gauge everyone’s reactions. To my surprise, not a single person looked even remotely startled. The man, who had dark hair and strikingly yellow eyes chuckled sheepishly as he struggled through the window. He had such an easygoing smile that betrayed his serious eyes. He had an old Taisho-style kimono, with a dark purple haori, black hakama, and an unbuttoned white shirt. “Well, well, would you look at that? I’m a little late, aren’t I?” He’d just about fully entered the room when his sleeve got stuck, “...In we go.” He pulled at it comically, his actions humorously exaggerated and ineffective. 

“God’s Truth, can’t you use a door?” Isaac sighed. 

“And keep everyone waiting? No, no, the window’s a much faster entrance.” He smiled, nonchalant about his sleeve still caught by the window. He caught my bewildered eyes. I sat back down, but couldn’t wrench my eyes away from the bizarre scene. “Oh, hello there, young one. Why, I’m happy to see you here. How’s your dinner been?” 

“It’s…good,” I sputtered out. 

“Isn’t it? Well, it’s a Sebas-kun meal, so you really can’t expect anything less. You wouldn’t believe how fast his cooking gets gobbled up here.” He nonchalantly mused and sat on Isaac’s right, who then slithered away from him. 

“Not to worry, you arrived just in time. We were just introducing ourselves to our new guest here.” 

“In that case, I’m Osamu Dazai, just a poor writer struggling to make his way in the world.” His eyes closed with his carefree smile, which made him all the more handsome. 

“Osamu Dazai. The writer. Okay.” I took a quick swig of my champagne. If I had to listen to the rest of these wild introductions I needed to be less sober. Should I have introduced myself as Marie Antoinette or something? I took a quick glance at the “van Gogh” brothers, who had started this odd chain of improv introductions. His smile seemed too innocent to be trying to fool me like this. Who the hell are these people? Is this some sort of prank? I glanced back at my now-empty glass. Was there something in my drink? 

Skipping several empty chairs was the beautiful and cold pianist I’d met earlier. The Englishman called him “Wolfie,” but I bet that’s probably short for—

“Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. Composer.” Called it. His character seemed the least to play along in whatever nonsense chain the others made up. Of course, the pianist would be called Mozart. 

“...Hello, Mozart,” two words I never thought I’d utter in my life. 

The cheeky Englishman from earlier, who was practically buzzing with excitement piped up, “I do believe I’m next! I’m Arthur Conan Doyle. Mystery writer.” I pursed my lips and looked down at the table, uncertain whether I should laugh or sigh. “And don’t call me Sir, just Arthur. As long as I get to call you MC.” I quickly glanced up at him, and his eyes twinkled with delight. He, I could see was capable of making up this joke. But then, did that mean everyone was lying to me? No, not lying. They have to be pseudonyms. I looked around once again at everyone. 

Vincent. 

Theodorus. 

Isaac.

Dazai.

Mozart. 

Arthur. 

They have to be. Maybe they have to use fake names to keep their real identities a secret for some important reason. 

“I believe that leaves you.” Le Comte’s silky voice interrupted my racing thoughts. Only my hero remained. My protector. He was the only one who was genuinely on my side. The one who wanted me to get out of here. He promised to answer my questions. I trusted him, albeit instantly. But he couldn’t possibly lie to me too. 

With his eyes that hid nothing, my saviour looked at me and said, “Napoleon. Napoleon Bonaparte… I’m a soldier.” 

[klutzyroses]

Pirate's Revenge

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Francis Drake x Fem!Reader

Day 11- Frottage/"Don’t play innocent now. I know you want this"

Tags: Female reader, NSFW, dry humping, cheeky reader, bondage, light dom/sub dynamic, BrattySub!Reader, CunningDom!Drake

Summary: Just because she thought he was at a disadvantage, didn't mean she had the advantage. There's only so much you can do before a pirate takes his revenge. Especially if he isn't as vulnerable as he seems. Inspired by the Chapter 1-3 of Drake's route.

Word Count: 3139

Thoughts: In bold, Y/N: Your Name

Part of Visions of Temptation event by @xxsycamore

Minors DNI!!

"Heh...Little fawn, I’m going to get you for this."

Y/N felt a pleasant chill down her spine when she heard the sailor's lewd threat, giving him a sweet smile in return as she ground her hips against his in response. A few hours ago, if she had been told she would be stripped down to her underwear, humping the famous pirate, Francis Drake while he was tied to a chair...she would've laughed.

But...here she was.

~⚓️

When the man had come through the door like a hurricane and held her at knifepoint, she had mostly been consumed by the terror of suddenly being threatened with a knife by a complete stranger in her own home. A very handsome stranger, now that she had looked at him at a safer distance. But a stranger nonetheless, a rather dangerous one, considering he seemed to match Napoleon in combat which...both unnerved and intrigued her a bit. Even as he was tied down and surrounded by the residents, he didn't even seem to bat an eye. He remained completely at ease, or at least seemed to, even laughing in humor at his situation. He wasn't afraid of them. In the slightest.

When it was confirmed that he indeed was Francis Drake by both Sebastian and Shakespeare, the tension eased by a minute degree, only to pick right back up when she, out of compassion for the seemingly lost pirate, had made the suggestion that he remained at the mansion for the time being. It was met with skepticism, which…was reasonable all things considered.

“Are you crazy? He attacked us out of nowhere and you want him to stay here?” was the incredulous question posed by Mozart and the pretty lady had to fight hard, very hard not to roll her eyes to the sky and retort to him, but she held her tongue, choosing to be patient.

‘No, he attacked me and he apologized already, but alright…’ With that curt thought shoved to the back of her mind, she turned to Comte.

“If you’re worried about him being a threat, why don’t I stay back and question him one on one?” As she expected, all eyes fell on her, mostly a mix of surprise, concern or incredulity.

“Y/N, is that wise?” An uncertain Comte responded, his golden eyes slightly narrowed as they peered at her with worry. She felt warmed by his concern, but she was partially doing this for a selfish reason. She did want to learn a bit more about this man herself, partially out of interest but also because she was actually concerned if he was trustworthy and as she was the one to suggest he stayed, she should take responsibility. Though…she wasn’t about to tell anyone in this room that she just wanted a bit of time alone with the gorgeous stranger who seemed to have no fear in the world.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be okay. I’m the one who made the suggestion, so I should deal with him. It’s probably better, it might be more comfortable for him to answer truthfully if he isn’t surrounded by intimidating vampire men.” She smiled reassuringly, her eyes flickering over to the man in question, whose aqua gaze had not left her since she started speaking, “A woman’s touch is more convincing than scrutiny sometimes, don’t you think?”

“You have a point but..” Napoleon’s viridian eyes crackled with dismay. She could tell nobody in the room was entirely comfortable with that idea. She wanted to be annoyed but she couldn't help but feel touched that they were so concerned about her.

“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll keep him restrained until I’m sure he can be trusted. And if anything goes wrong…” She meets the gaze of the pirate, to see he is still watching her with a rather…cryptic look on his face. She hadn’t the slightest idea what he was thinking and she couldn’t recall anyone ever looking at her with such ambiguous intensity. It made her feel…some kind of way. 

“...well I’ll just scream up a storm.”

~⚓️

“You’re pretty brave, little fawn, interrogating me all by yourself.” Were the first words out of Drake as soon as they were alone, said with a cheerful, breezy smile. She turned to him, considering her words briefly before answering him.

“Well, like I said before, I have to take responsibility for you staying here since it was my idea.” She felt a bit nervous now. What could she possibly ask that he hadn’t already been asked? This was an ill thought out plan and now she was waffling. Not that she would let him see that. His aquamarine eyes narrowed playfully at her as his lips curved into a smile.

“Hehe, don’t look so nervous. I already promised not to hurt you.” He was the one tied up and yet was still acting as if he could do something to her. He was a brazen man, this one. But oddly, she wasn’t offended, just…attracted to it? Strangely enough, she was attracted to how bold and unafraid he was. There was something alluring about it, something magnetic calling to her.

“Are you mocking me, Sir Drake?”

“Not at all.”

“Good because…I could easily torture you for answers instead of asking nicely.” A more or less empty threat, but she simply wanted to see if that would instil even a little apprehension in him. 

“Torture me, huh? A nice, pretty girl like you? That’ll be the day.” It did not. The smirk starting to form on Drake’s face made sure she knew that. For a moment, her mind went blank when saw him smirk at her and she prayed that he could not tell her thighs were squeezing together beneath her long dress. How was she being toyed with like this? She was the interrogator here!

“You think I’m pretty?” Her questions earns her a tilted head and a slightly wide eyed, confused look from the “captive”.

“Eh? Isn’t it obvious? You’re gorgeous. Why do you think those guys didn’t want to leave you with me?” He didn’t seem like he was teasing her then, he seemed genuinely confused by her question. Y/N felt her cheeks heat up as she cleared her throat.

'Hskerinfiuridhi…' Was her predominant thought as she composed herself and tried to muster a stern face.

“Well this gorgeous girl is fully capable of torturing you to get information, so be careful!”

“Oh yeah? How?” Oh dear. He expected an answer. She couldn’t bring herself to hit him or cause him any pain for the sake of prying information from him. She would have just asked him directly without force but now, she was forced to come up with something and her pride would not allow her to back down, now that she had already opened her mouth. As they say, pride before the fall. She may as well fall with style.

“Are you sure you want to know?” A weak, pitiful attempt at buying time, she knew it, and she knew that he knew it from the way his smile deepened.

“Yeah, I’m curious. Go ahead and torture me, little fawn.” She wanted to whimper. But an idea sparked within her. He had called her gorgeous. She remembered what she said to Comte. 

You’re gorgeous…A woman’s touch is more convincing…

'What if..' This was ludicrous. Beyond embarrassing. So overboard, so reckless. Just to save her pride from being wounded. Okay, she was a little attracted to the fearless pirate, but this was…

“Well, little fawn?” His smirk read, ‘your move.’ as clear as day. Well then...

She pouted slightly, facing him defiantly and reaching for the front of her dress as she unbuttons it. She hesitated for a moment but the sight of Drake’s eyes widening gave her a sliver of satisfaction that pushed her forward. She smiled seductively at him as she uttered her declaration.

“I’m going to torture you with my body.”

“...Huh?” Her thoughts exactly. If she wasn’t screaming with embarrassment on the inside, she’d have laughed at the comically dumbfounded look on Drake’s face. Before she could talk herself out of it, her dress slid down her body, the sailor’s eyes following it as it hit the floor and pooled around her feet. She stepped out of her shoes and ambled over to him, in nothing more than her underwear before sitting herself down on his lap slowly. Summoning courage from the fountain of confidence she didn’t know she had, she moved one leg over his knee, straddling him snugly, placing her hand over his shoulder, the other on her own thigh for balance. She peered down into his face.

“I’m going to torture you with my body. You asked for it, right? Ask and you’ll receive.” She simpered at him, walking her fingers up his torso before she got the opening of his shirt where his chest was partially exposed and drew circles on it teasingly. After a few more seconds of being stunned, Drake’s face cooled to that same inscrutable look he had earlier. His eyes seemed to sharpen to a degree that sent many, many shivers down her spine. Suddenly, she wondered who the prey really was in the situation. It was both very unsettling, but very arousing at the same time.

“Giving your body to a guy you don’t know? You’re reckless, little fawn.” Very reckless, but she’d gotten this far, no point backing out. Her ego would never allow it. That and…well she had to admit this was thrilling. Liberating. To throw caution to the wind completely to allow herself this stolen moment of pleasure with an attractive, audacious pirate…there was no feeling like it. It was as if his boldness had rubbed off on her already.

“Maybe, but it’s my body, so I decide who I give it to.” She aligns her hips with his, consciously aware of how broad he was in comparison to her smaller form. A flash of something lights across those beautiful aqua eyes as a smirk makes his way across his face. She had to wonder if he knew how wet she was for him already.

“You’re a feisty girl. And pretty honest about your desires. I like it.” She resisted a shiver at that, and instead opted to respond by rolling her hips into his, holding her reaction to the shock of pleasure firing through her body from the friction.

“Then we’ll see how much you like my torture.”

Which explained the current situation. Y/N continued to grind on Drake, the friction driving both of them wild. She held back a whine when her wetness met his erection for the umpteenth time. Try as she might, it was difficult to feign control and indifference when it felt so good. What helped though was the flush spread across Drake’s pale face and the lustful frown he had accompanying it, his chest heaving slightly as his eyes gleamed with desire. Desire for her. She throbbed at the thought of getting him off this way, though it would be…interesting to explain to the others why their future new inhabitant was soaked from the waist down. Still a fun thought though. The real challenge, however, was appearing unaffected. She was supposed to be torturing him, but frankly, she had begun to forget what she was supposed to be doing originally. She was probably in a worse state than he was, she wouldn’t be surprised if she got off him and found a wet stain on him where she had just been. To distract herself, she ran her fingers through his silver hair and pressed a meaningful kiss to his cheek.

“My, Sir Drake, you seem flustered. Whatever is the matter?” She teased, feeling a wave of power when his arms twitch behind his back. He wanted to touch her, he wanted to touch her bad, but obviously couldn’t. She revelled in his groan, though unsure if it was lust or frustration or maybe both, when she once again deprived him of release at the last moment for the 3rd time in a row. 

“Fawn…” His displeased mutter sounds against her skin as she kisses his cheek yet again, giggling enticingly into his ear.

“Frustrated about something? Sir Drake, I can’t possibly imagine what has you so disappointed?” Her little jab at him earns her a slight glare promising retribution.

“Don’t get too cheeky, little fawn. I’ll get you back if you get ahead of yourself.” A warning she had the feeling she should be taking seriously. However, he was tied up wasn’t he? It wasn’t like he could do anything to her. Even if she wanted him to touch her just as badly as he did. She was curious to know what he would do to her if she untied him right that moment.

“Get back at me, you can’t even move your hands to touch me.”

“But you want me to, right?” She blinked, taken aback by his blunt retort. Did he see through her? He suddenly smiled at her sharply, his eyes glinting with that dangerous glow that turned her on in ways she thought impossible.

“Huh..?”

“Don’t play innocent now. I know you want this.” He shifted a bit, causing her to slide against his cock, making both shiver at once. 

“How would you know what I want, Sir Drake?” A meek challenge, an attempt to remain in control, futile as she knew it was. She had the feeling she was in the palm of his hand at that moment and he couldn’t even use his hands!

“You’re soaking, little fawn, and I can feel you throbbing on me. Not to mention, your cute face is telling me everything. This isn’t just torture for me.” He teasingly rolled his hips against hers once, smirking wider when he felt her grip on his shoulder tighten as she whimpered slightly. 

“It’s torture for you too.”

“Ahh...Sir Drake...”

“Heh...So you do want it. You really are so cute.” She just barely had time to process that before he claimed her lips in a kiss that had her melting within moments. She coiled her arms around his neck, her fingers in his hair as they rocked together to increase the friction to ecstasy inducing heights. The dining room was filled with sounds of kissing, moaning, panting and naughty whispering as Y/N felt her climax creeping on her, causing her to arch into Drake. She could feel it just around the corner, about to send her over the edge and…was that a hand on her thigh?

She pulled back from his lips in surprise as she looked down and indeed, a large pale hand had clasped around her thigh, holding her closer to Drake. Her wide eyes followed the appendage up an arm that indeed was attached to…

“How did you-?!”

“Don’t underestimate pirates, little fawn. That knot was pretty tough…” His other hand came up from behind his back to rest on the curve of her backside. His smile was downright wicked at this point. ”...But I’m tougher.”

She gaped at him, both in awe and a little scared silly. And yes, turned on, more than she already had been. But she was not prepared for what he said next.

“I actually got free a little while back. I just didn't say anything. Just to see how far you’d take this.” His casual admission nearly made her mouth fall open.

“Why did you-?”

“Because it was fun. You really are something, you know, Y/N? Also…” She gasped when she felt his fingers brush aside her panties, brushing his knuckles against her wet entrance, finding her clit and rubbing it gently. At first.

”...I told you, I would get you, right? Its payback time, little fawn.”

The crafty, mischievous, conniving-

“Ahh, mmm…!” She moaned out when his fingers increased the fierce rubbing on her clit.

…Sexy, bold pirate had her wrapped around his finger…quite literally actually as her folds went slick against his venturing hand. She would say the tables had turned…but to be honest, it seemed like he had always been ahead of her, from the beginning. Not that she could even mind, apart from the mild worry that she may not be able to walk straight by the end of the night.

“Hey, Y/N?” 

“Y…Yes?”

“I’d really love to make you ‘scream up a storm’, but those guys will come barging in if you make too much noise.” He tilted his head, a lock of silver hair falling into his face. “So, I’ll have to make it quick and get you cumming…maybe three or four times?” He seemed to actually be contemplating how many times he would bring her over the edge as if he was choosing what dessert he wanted. Y/N’s eyes widened as she felt a rush of excitement and arousal…although, she did like walking. And she had a feeling he had every intention of taking that away from her.

“Erm…Sir Drake?” His eyes met hers as his fingers paused from pleasing her between her legs at her slightly timid hesitation. She gave him a nervous laugh as she fiddled absently with his ponytail.

“Is there maybe a chance you could let this slide? I think you can be trusted now, meaning you can stay so…uh, you can just let me go…right?” She tried half hopefully.

“...” His grip on her hips tightened as he gave her a deadpan look.

…Yeah okay. She didn’t think so. She couldn’t pretend that she wouldn’t have been disappointed if he had let her go though. Walking straight was overrated anyway.

~⚓️

Napoleon blinked, looking dumbfounded as the pretty Y/N emerged from the dining room, disheveled, flushed and…limping and stumbling all over the place. The look on Comte’s face mirrored his own.

“Y/N, what-”

“He’s trustworthy, let him stay.”

“But-”

“Please.” Comte and Napoleon shared a look before the master of the house acquiesced to her plea.

“Thank you. Now, if you would excuse me, gentlemen, I need to go and…um, lie down. I’m a bit tired. Goodnight.” Her voice strained slightly as she wobbled her way down the hall, using the wall for support.

Six. Six whole orgasms. Two for Drake, four for her. She knew she would sleep like a baby as soon as she made contact with her bed. They say orgasms, especially several consecutive ones, make for a good sleeping drug. That had some truth to it, if her drowsiness was any indication. That said, she would have to make a note to keep her panties in her line of sight around Francis Drake, seeing as the ones she had been wearing were no longer on her person, but rather, they were in the possession of a fearless pirate...

🌸

[whatever-fanfics]

I’m most likely going to separate this into 2 parts for the act 2 gang because I can’t add anymore choices

I will also create a tag list so please comment below if you want to be tagged

❤️❤️❤️

[natimiles]

Lazy morning with Sebastian

Words: 531

Tags: scenario; morning cuddles; fluffy; calling Sebastian by his real name; no pronouns specified for reader; established relationship.

You wake up to a light sensation of warmth against your skin — on your forehead, your shoulders, your cheeks, your nose...

With a furrowed brow and a low grumble, you turn around, faintly hearing a chuckle surrounding you. The soft touches now trace along your shoulder blades, your nape, and under your ear… They’re accompanied by a gentle voice calling out to you. You try to open your eyes, but they feel heavy.

Once more, you feel a delicate touch, different from before. It slowly drags up your arm, halting at your shoulder, and you sense a tender squeeze accompanied by a murmur against your ear, coaxing you away from the land of dreams.

Fighting harder, you finally flutter your eyes open. You notice Sebastian’s shadow in your peripheral vision, his head hovering above you as he peers down at your face.

“Good morning,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Oh, so that was the feeling. 

You want more.

He chuckles lightly, his fingertips now tracing the contours of your face.

“I would love to give you more, but it’s time to get up,” he murmurs gently.

“Mmm?” You hum, your voice still husky and heavy with sleep. “Did I say that aloud?” You frown.

“You did,” he remarks, amused. “Now, come on.”

He sits up and moves away slightly, just enough for you to miss his warmth.

“Don’t wanna,” you whine, clinging to his arm, attempting to coax him back to lie down.

He sighs, though a soft laugh lingers beneath it. “Must I remind you that we need to work today?”

“Akihiko, please,” you pout, tugging on his arm.

He obliges. After all, how could he not when you call his name so softly? You turn back around to face him, allowing him to properly wrap his arms around you, and sigh happily as you feel him so close.

“Five more minutes,” he says, playfully flicking your forehead.

You gasp in shock, opening your eyes to meet his, finding a loving gaze looking back at you.

“I think I deserve ten minutes after that uncalled flick,” you pout again.

“Alright,” he concedes with a gentle smile.

His hand slides to the back of your head, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss your pout. Sebastian maintains his grip, using it to draw your face gently against his chest, while he rests his chin on your head. Your legs intertwine, and your bodies instantly relax in each other’s arms.

“But ten minutes is our limit, or we’ll be late,” he warns.

You nod enthusiastically and kiss his collarbone right in front of your face.

He feels your breath against his skin steady, and he knows you’re already fast asleep. He isn’t really sleepy, but there’s something about being able to stay a few lazy minutes enjoying your presence in bed.

Your warmth, your love, makes him seriously consider staying in bed the whole morning with you. However, he makes a huge effort to wake you up again after the ten minutes are over.

You wouldn’t know, but he actually gave you a few extra minutes just to admire your sleepy and peaceful face a little longer.

Taglist: @bicayaya @silverbladexyz @koco-coko @yamarireads @judejazza @echoes-in-the-forest @chandeliermichel @fang-and-feather

Masterlists

[alby-rei]

Prologue (IkeVamp; Luigi's Mansion AU, Part 1)

a/n: Heavily (more like, entirely) inspired by @scummy-writes's playthrough of Luigi's Mansion. 'Twas a lot of fun merging the wackiness of that game with the IkeVamp universe! Multiple parts have already been written, to varying degrees of polish, so I'll be posting them on a schedule (Tentatively, one part per week). Without further ado, Enjoyyy ✨

Series: Comte's Ghost Mansion Tags: Humor, Crack treated seriously, Luigi's Mansion AU, Spooky scary spectral vampires, Ghostbuster MC Word Count: 1000 words Characters: You, Sebastian, Comte (mentioned) Next: Part 2

~*~

You woke up in a dark endless abyss with a headache.

"Where...am I?"

You were not sure how long you were out for, but it must have been a long time.

Last you remembered, you were walking around the Louvre museum in the daytime. A handsome man in a three-piece tailored suit had graciously retrieved your earring from the ground, only to drop and forgot his own handkerchief.

You, wanting nothing more than to return the favor, sought to return it to him. Your quest led you to a secluded section of the museum, barren of any foot traffic, and past a set of large double doors that appeared, at the time, as part of the museum experience.

In hindsight, the dwindling number of visitors around you should have alerted you to think otherwise.

Lightning flashed and the hallway blinked in view, like a snapshot captured with a camera shutter. Thunder cracked once, twice, forcing you out of memory lane and back into the present.

In the split-second that you saw the hallway, a line of tall arched windows stood to your left and closed wooden doors to your right. A high-backed chair was stationed between each door, and a framed picture hung above it. A wall blocked the path at one end and extended into darkness in the other. So, not an endless abyss. But it was not the Louvre museum, either.

Slowly, hesitantly, you took a step forward, and another, and then another, keeping your eyes peeled for any signs of an exit. A door creaked nearby.

You scrambled to hide behind the nearest curtains, but you were caught by two firm hands. Your heart lurched in your throat. You turned around to face your assailant, and a second round of lightning gave you a chance to get a good look. It was a young man with grayish hair swept to one side, his eyes narrow and inquisitive.

"Who are you, and how did you get in here?" He asked, though he did not wait for a response. "Doesn't matter, let's get you out before the others notice."

You followed him through the maze of hallways, each turn taking you down an identical path. It was a wonder that your guide could tell heads from tails in the darkness.

"Watch your step," he called out as the two of you descended a set of grand stairs.

Just when you thought you reached the bottom, you were met with more stairs. Blood pumped in your ears as you focused on getting out of here, one step at a time. You sighed in relief when the first sliver of light peeked through the grand double doors at the opposite end of what, you assumed, was the foyer.

Once outside, you gawked at the building you just escaped. It was a three-story mansion. Grapevines crept around and across the walls and into some open windows. Dark clouds loomed over the estate, but the rain died down into a drizzle.  

"Don't fall behind, now!" Your guide called out from the garden up ahead. Rather than continue straight ahead and out the gate, he took a turn going behind the mansion. You stared at the open gate, contemplating your chance of survival. Feeling unsafe venturing out into the unknown, you kept up pace with him along a narrow cobblestone path.

He stopped abruptly, causing you to bump into his back, and asked, "Where did you say you were from?"

You huffed and said, "If you would've let me speak the first time..." You explained your situation to him, and he furrowed his brows. You then barraged him with your own set of questions. Rather than answer any of them, he turned on his heel and talked on the way.

He introduced himself as Sebastian. He woke up in a similar way to what you had described a few years prior.

“I’m sorry, did you say years?” You gaped. What hope did you have of returning home if he had not done so yet?

He continued. "I came face to face with the head of this mansion, a French nobleman who goes by the title, Le Comte de Saint-Germain. He gave me an offer I could not refuse, and so I serve the mansion as its butler."

He stopped in front of a quaint wooden garden shack.

Facing you, he wore a wry smile as he said, "I would like to consider myself lucky, as I haven't seen another human in quite some time. But you, I'm afraid, are out of luck to end up here."

Your eyes shifted. "What do you mean by that?"

"Wait here."

He ducked inside and came out with a backpack that looked an awful lot like a vacuum cleaner. The vacuum tube in his hands only further confirmed your suspicions.

He reminded you of a ghostbuster.

"Unfortunately, I don't know how to get you home. But what I can offer is a means to defend yourself for the night.

"Defend myself?" You echoed. "Against what?"

That was how you ended up back inside the mansion, carrying Sebastian's 'Poltergust 1899' (as he proudly called it) on your back, alongside an oil lamp in hand and an item pouch around your shoulder.

What’s the pouch for? You may be wondering.

After much debate with the butler, you agreed to retrieve "items of interest" for him if he promised to investigate a means of getting you back home. His final remark was to avoid disturbing the mansion's esteemed residents and, contrarily, to report back any interesting behavior you encounter, seemingly of said residents.

The main entrance door creaked open. The mansion's foyer was bedecked with a carpeted floor that stretched up its wide central staircase. White Ionic columns lined the sides. At the top of the stairs, bright moonlight shone through, enveloping the room in a bluish hue.

The door slamming shut behind you pulled your flighty spirit back into its boney prison. Several voices murmured behind the walls.

You caught some of their words, or so you believed.

"A guest?"

"They returned!"

"Oh dear."

"How delightful."

"Go away."

You wished you didn't.

~*~

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