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'Til Dawn (Part 1) 🌻
A couple's love burning bright, even as the dawn of tragic fate approaches. Hinting at the forbidden, taboo aspects of love.
Main Character: Vincent & my OC, Yona
CW: SFW
Words: 1,433
Note: I am back to writing again. Feel free to comment since I wanted to learn more about writing 🙇🏻♀️ Thank you!!
✧・゚: *✧・゚:*
In the halls of Winterville University, a maiden named Yona was spotted, her presence as unusual as it was intriguing. With tresses of luscious, wavy hair and eyes the color of a clear ocean, Yona seemed out of place amidst the bustle of students. She had transferred to the university mid-semester, a move that raised more than a few eyebrows among her classmates.
Rumors swirled about the beautiful stranger, but one truth became apparent - Yona was struggling to find her footing, particularly in her art class. While her sketches were exquisite, her attempts at painting were lackluster, the colors clashing and the strokes uneven. As a result, many of her classmates began to avoid her, ignoring her attempts at conversation or friendship.
But there was one student who refused to write Yona off. A dashing young man with blond hair that fell across his forehead in messy bangs and eyes the color of spring sky caught her eye. Vincent was his name, and his angelic features seemed almost otherworldly.
When he noticed Yona's frustration with painting, he stepped in, his voice soft as silk as he guided her hand.
"Like this," he murmured. "You have to feel the brush in your hand, let your emotions guide the strokes."
As Vincent painted inside the warm, intimate space of the art classroom, Yona found herself torn between focusing on Vincent's skilled painting strokes and the intoxicating nearness of the angelic man beside her. His presence was magnetic, drawing her in with an inexplicable force.
Trying to regain some composure, Yona attempted to deflect the unexpected attention with a hint of sass.
"Why help me when everyone else leaves me alone?" she asked, her voice a little breathless despite her efforts.
Vincent's response was immediate and genuine, his smile radiant like a beacon of light.
"Because I admire your sketches and I believe in you," he said, his voice a soothing melody.
Yona's heart skipped a frantic rhythm at his words, her face growing hot as a furnace. She only realized she was blushing when Vincent leaned in closer, his warm breath fanning across her cheek. His forehead pressed gently against hers, and Yona felt the world narrow down to the mere inches separating them.
"I think you have a fever," Vincent murmured, his worry palpable despite his innocent tone. Little did he know that he was the sole cause of Yona's flustered state. As they remained in their tender, forehead-to-forehead embrace, the room around them melted away, leaving only the thrumming pulse of their shared moment.
Unable to bear Vincent's worried expression for even a moment longer, Yona averted her gaze, her eyes darting to the canvas before her. But the damage had already been done - her cheeks still burned with the memory of his tender concern.
"I don't have a fever," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.
Vincent pulled back slightly, but his gaze never left Yona's face, his worry evident even as he tried to reassure her. "Are you sure? You look a little... flushed."
Yona nodded jerkily, desperate to change the subject.
"I... I need to focus on my painting. Can you teach me?" she asked, her words tumbling out in a rush.
Vincent's face lit up with a bright, genuine smile. "Of course!"
Without hesitation, he took Yona's hand in his, the warmth of his palm seeping through her skin. Gently, he guided her hand, showing her how to make the brush dance across the canvas, each stroke a work of art.
As Yona painted under Vincent's expert tutelage, she felt herself becoming lost in the moment, her earlier nervousness melting away in the face of his patient instruction and kind encouragement.
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
As the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, Vincent and Yona's daily painting sessions became an integral part of their routine. After each class, the unlikely duo would spend hours together, Vincent guiding Yona's hand as she learned the intricacies of painting. The lines between student and teacher began to blur, their bond strengthening with each passing day.
Yona even went so far as to cook breakfast for Vincent one morning, a stack of fluffy pancakes that held the power to melt the coldest of hearts. Vincent, in turn, never forgot Yona's love for strawberries, always ensuring to pick up a fresh bunch for her whenever they went shopping together.
As their closeness deepened, even Vincent's younger brother, Theo, couldn't help but notice the shift in their relationship. And while Theo might have once been amused by the pairing, he soon grew to resent it, especially given the secret the brothers shared. A secret no one could ever learn...
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
One fateful day, Theo and Vincent found themselves in a private conversation, the tension in the air palpable as they delved into the heart of the matter at hand. Theo, with a heavy heart, shared his grave concerns about their shared secret, painting a dire picture of what would transpire should Yona ever discover the truth.
"Vincent, we need to talk," he said, his voice low and serious. "About you and Yona."
Vincent looked up from the sketchbook in his hands, a hint of wariness creeping into his eyes.
"What about us?" he asked, his voice even but his pulse quickening.
"If this is about our secret, I know you're worried, but we can trust her," Vincent insisted, his conviction unwavering, "Yona is the kindest person I've ever met. If she learns our secret, she'll understand."
Theo sighed, a heavy burden settling on his shoulders. He knew how kind-hearted Vincent was, how much he valued purity and honesty. But Theo's hunch told him that if Vincent revealed their secret to Yona and she reacted as most people would, she would be horrified. She would leave Vincent alone, perhaps even hurt him. And if that happened, Theo wanted to be there for his brother, to comfort him through the pain.
"If that's what you want to believe," Theo said softly. "But if I'm right, if things go south... I'll be there for you. To comfort you."
Vincent nodded gratefully, "Thank you, Theo. I appreciate that."
But deep down, a nagging doubt persisted in Vincent's heart - what if Theo was right? What if Yona couldn't handle the truth? He pushed the thought aside, clinging to his belief in Yona's kindness and understanding.
⋇⋆✦⋆⋇
Days passed, each one an eternity as Vincent struggled to find the perfect moment to reveal his secret to Yona. The blank canvas seemed to mock him, a stark reminder of the truth he couldn't bring himself to utter.
During their shared time together, Yona noticed Vincent's distant stare, his usual enthusiasm replaced by a profound sadness.
"Vincent," Yona spoke gently, her voice a soothing balm to his troubled soul, "You seem troubled. Is something bothering you?"
Vincent's gaze shifted to meet Yona's oceanic eyes, his sky blue ones looking lost and afraid.
"Yona," he began, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "There's something I wanted to tell you. Something I wanted to share with you. It's a secret, a secret that me and my brother kept. But I... I'm scared, Yona."
His confession tumbled out in a rush, each word a weight bearing down on his chest, "I'm scared that if you learn the truth, you'll leave me alone. That you won't want to be friends with me anymore."
Sensing the deep-seated fear lurking beneath Vincent's angelic exterior, Yona reached out, her hands finding his in a gentle gesture of reassurance. Though she hadn't yet confessed her feelings, Yona's heart had grown to love the kind, angelic man beside her, a love so deep and pure it knew no bounds.
"You can tell me anything," Yona soothed, her thumbs stroking comforting patterns over Vincent's palms. "I promise I won't leave you. Whatever it is, we'll get through it together."
Unbeknownst to Yona, her words struck a chord within Vincent. For he, too, knew that his feelings for her extended far beyond the realm of friendship - though the nature of those emotions remained foreign and daunting even to him.
"Yona..." Vincent called softly, his voice wavering. "Yona, I... I'm not human. I'm a..."
He trailed off, his sky blue eyes darting nervously to hers, as if searching for a glimmer of understanding or acceptance in her oceanic gaze.
"I'm... a vampire," Vincent whispered.
The word hung heavy in the air between them, a revelation that promised to upend their entire world. Would Yona be able to accept this truth, this dark secret Vincent had kept hidden for so long?
#ikemen series#ikevamp#ikemen vampire#ikevamp vincent#ikemen vampire vincent#IkeVamp AU#Ikemen Vampire AU
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Theo and Jane, but make it Tangled AU-
I’ll do that at some point.
But I’ll let that idea roll around in your heads for a while.
HEHEHEHEHWHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHEHEHEHEAAAAA-!!!
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Ikemen Vampire Yearbook
I have been holding this project since last year, and it kept stuck there. Finally I'm able to finish it 😍
One thing for sure is I love this Vampire family enough to give me motivation to finish this little project of mine, I will post some sketches of them in daily school as well, pls looking forward to it 😆
♡(> ਊ<)♡
#ikevamp#cybird ikemen#otome game#cybird#fanart#ikemen vampire#anadreamart#highschool au by anadreamart
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Hello Vi! I have a request for you, only if it inspires
Tutor AU! With one or more of your fave suitors tutoring you for your upcoming exams;
Leonardo, Comte, Gilbert, Leon, Silvio and Clavis!
I'd love to see what you come up with ❤️❤️❤️
A/N: I had a very immediate idea for Comte so I went with him for this request!
Comte x Reader, Tutor AU/ Modern AU
WC: ~1.9k
The library looms large as you hurry up the wide, slate-colored steps under a sky exhaling its last breath of evening color. The stars are slowly blinking into existence, determined to shine before they are hidden behind the slow-moving blanket of clouds heading their way. You would pause to enjoy the ephemeral moment when dusk ebbs into night.....
Except Comte is inside, waiting for you.
You’re still not sure how it’s come to this. Comte as your tutor. Your mind travels back several weeks….
Several weeks ago:
One minute you're balancing an armful of books along with your backpack and several bags of uneven groceries that are seriously testing your stubborn decision to do it all in ONE trip. The next, however, everything is falling onto the polished grey tile floor of your building’s lobby, the objects seeming to leap like lemmings out of your arms. As you stand there, staring defeatedly at the scattered mess, lost in the gravity of your poor decision, the elevator doors you were originally trying to reach slide open and like the pearly gates unveiling an angel, Comte de St Germain steps out, in the process of buttoning his elegant camel-colored coat with one hand.
Before you can say a word, he takes in your forlorn expression, the embarrassing pile of your things at your feet, and he is by your side, kneeling, helping you gather up your stray apples and the mini-boxes of cereal you are probably way too old for but love anyway. Your cheeks flush as you stammer a thank you.
You know him more by reputation than actual acquaintance. He lives in the sprawling penthouse at the apex of your building, the crowning glory of the gothic structure, and is usually spoken about in whispers and sighs by the other residents:
“Comte? He’s a museum director downtown.”
“I hear he is a world-famous antique dealer who has made millions.”
“He’s gotta be a tech-millionaire with all that dough.”
“Well I know someone who knows someone who swears he’s a member of the royal family of some tiny European country.”
“I don’t care what he does. He’s got to be loaded to live up there.”
“I hear he’s never been married.”
“My cousin’s best friend’s neighbor's babysitter says he’s divorced from someone super famous.”
“You know what he is? I'll tell ya. Drop dead gorgeous.”
This mysterious man with eyes the color of desert sands is on the ground in his expensive suit and coat, helping you gather your plebeian things and oh, do you want to melt into the floor and disappear.
Until……
He stops, holding one of the books you had been juggling, a surprised expression crossing his classically beautiful face.
“‘The History of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire’ by Edward Gibbon. Fourth edition.” He seems impressed, curiosity flaring to life in the mesmerizing gold of his eyes.
And you take that lifeline, words stumbling over themselves across the knot of your tied tongue as you explain you are a graduate student, majoring in history, mentally preparing yourself for the avalanche of final exams heading your way.
And how he smiles, his long fingers tracing the embossed lettering along the spine of your book, borrowed from the local library. Entranced by the movement, you can't look away from his hand, reverence hushing his voice as he explains how he works for a museum (Points to the woman in Apartment 15B for getting that one), how he also studied history.
And then one thing leads to another and your rambling about the stress of your exams and crunch for time has evolved into Comte St. Germain, the mysterious Bruce Wayne of your building, offering to tutor you.
The Present:
And now here you stand, the night of your final session, heart prowling, turning circles in your chest like an unruly feline.
Taking a steadying breath, you continue up the steps and head inside, enjoying the sound of your heeled boots across the polished wooden floor. Past towering shelves filled with books you go until you reach the narrow iron staircase in the back, the one that spirals upwards to the second floor. Your feet follow the path they have gotten used to over the last few weeks, through the racks, down a narrow gangway until you reach the small cluster of tables at the western corner of the library, the ones underneath the imposing arched window that allows you a clear view of the darkening sky and the pale orange glow of the streetlamp across the street.
Comte looks up from the book he has been reading and offers you a smile, at once familiar and exotic.
“Ah, there you are, chérie. Ready for our final session?”
Something inside you constricts at the thought that this is the last time you will be here with him like this, tucked away in the surprising intimacy of a large public library, listening to his honeyed voice as you discuss not only history, but also the mundane: what music he listens to when he goes on long drives, his favorite type of wine, the best tea for a rainy Sunday morning. And it isn't just his speaking….Comte listens. He really listens when you talk, when you ask questions, when you give an opinion. He rests his chin on his hand, head tilted ever so slightly, his entire attention focused on you, whether you are explaining the fine points of one of the many Treaties of Paris or doing your best to convince him that dipping your French fries in your milkshake really does make them taste better.
With the glow of remembrance in your smile, you slide into the seat next to him, running your fingers along the soft grain of the elegant wooden chair as you settle in.
“Ready as I'll ever be,” you say, returning his smile while looking at the array of books he has spread out across the table. “Let’s do this.”
“Oui,” he says as his smile curves into a grin. “Tonight we’re focusing on art for your art history final. You already sent me the list of pieces your professor wants you to know for your exam so we can work our way through those.”
You breathe in, trying not to get distracted by the warm, earthy scent of his cologne.
“Professor Leonardo is great but it’s such a long list….” Your shoulders slump at the thought of tackling everything on it. And then you feel Comte’s hand there, on your forearm, warm even through the soft material of your blouse.
“Then let us begin.”
He spends hours, guiding you through Girl with the Pearl Earring, The Birth of Venus, Las Meninas, and Water Lillies. You wander through the great masters like an enamored visitor in an enchanted garden, listening as Comte helps you to remember what you have learned about the paintings as well as unlocking secrets you have never heard before. He leads you through the design of the Colosseum, the Parthenon, Hagia Sofia, Notre Dame, his voice a golden thread that spins you across the architectural wonders. And now, in your final hour of study, he opens the book of sculptures. You visit Rodin’s Thinker, Michelangelo’s David, the Venus de Milo. And finally, you come to the last sculpture on your list: Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss by Antonio Canova.
“Ah…” He pulls the book closer, the photograph of the sculpture filling the page. “This….is a masterpiece of….” He glances over at you, brow lifted as he waits for the answer.
“Neoclassicism…but with strong elements of the Romantic, given the subject matter.”
“Bien joué.” The praise falls from his lips softly, slides over you like melting wax, sends a jolt of heat across your skin. He doesn’t seem to notice as he flattens down the pages with both hands, his bright eyes roaming over the image.
“So you know the story of Cupid and Psyche?”
You try to remember what Professor Leonardo explained in class when he had introduced the sculpture. “She opened a forbidden jar and was put to sleep as punishment?”
Comte nods. “Venus forbid Psyche from opening the jar. It supposedly held Divine Beauty. Psyche could not resist temptation and instead of beauty, she was overcome by the Sleep of Innermost Darkness.” He grins slowly. “Very dramatic. Cupid sees his lover unconscious and pricks her with an arrow, awakening her. This sculpture captures that moment.”
Outside the library window, the streetlamp glows a soft orange. A light rain is now falling, making the light seem as if it is dancing, shimmering against the night.
“Just look at the lines,” he murmurs. He takes his index finger and slowly begins tracing the line of Psyche’s body. It follows the curve of her torso as she stretches up towards Cupid. “Her arms reach back for him.”
You lean in, closer to Comte, watching the path his finger makes along the glossy page. Your heart is suddenly hammering a woodpecker’s song against your breastbone.
“Her hands are in her lover’s hair, the gesture so familiar, so loving.” He traces down the line of Psyche's neck. “And here….she is bent back to him, so exposed and vulnerable, tilting to look up into his face. What do you see there?”
His voice winds itself around you, wrapping you in golden vines of warmth and want. You need a moment to find your own. When you do, it is only capable of expressing itself in a breathless whisper.
“Tenderness. Joy.”
He nods slowly, trailing his finger down Cupid’s strong arm. “And what do you see in him?”
Your thoughts are bright butterflies, sparks that fly up into the haze of your mind and explode in little pinpricks of light. Blinking, trying to control the overwhelming wave of attraction that threatens to pull you under, you reach out and touch the same page, your fingers scant centimeters from his.
“He’s…..adoring. The way he holds her head, his fingers touching her face. And he’s smiling at her, affectionately. Openly.” Your gaze drops down to where Comte’s finger points to Cupid’s left arm. You clear your throat and continue. “He covers her breasts with his arm, shielding her from the viewer, and yet that one hand holds her in a way that’s….it’s so intimate. It feels somehow more intimate than if we would see her bare.” Your voice is a whisper, soft and woven through with delicate wisps of yearning. “He touches her as if he’s done it a hundred times and still revels in it…..” You trail off, pressing your lips together, unable to go on.
Comte’s fingers brush against yours and you turn your head, startled to find that your faces are so very close. Outside the rain gently rolls down the massive glass window. The streetlamp flickers. Comte’s gaze is a steady golden sun.
“He adores her,” he murmurs, his voice rolling through you. You feel his fingers move, covering yours on the page.
“She marvels at him,” you answer quietly, your fingers curling around his in response.
He leans down ever so slightly, his mouth so close you can feel the warmth of his words on your lips. “He dreams of her……”
“.....and he is what makes her waking sublime…” The words are hardly more than the breaths between heartbeats.
His mouth brushes faintly against yours, the softest touch, a silken feather, a velvet caress.
“....He wants nothing more…..” His hand tightens around yours, his chest rising and falling with the contained power of his emotion. “...than to kiss her….”
“He should,” you say, soft as a nightingale welcoming a summer evening. "He should kiss her."
And he does, pressing his lips against yours as the wave that has been looming ever closer pours down upon you both. One hand rises, gripping the nape of your neck with tender ardor. You plunge your free hand into the soft wilderness of his tawny hair, opening your mouth to taste him.
Your other hand? It is still tightly holding onto his, a promise you won’t let go.
An echo of Cupid and his beloved Psyche.
Pysche Revived by Cupid's Kiss- Antonio Canova, 1793
Tagging: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @olivermorningstar @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @namine-somebodies-nobody @cellophanediamond @whatever-fanfics @justpeachyteastea @chirp-a-chirp @got7igot7family @kookie-my-little-sunshine @mastering-procrastinating @portrait-ninja @fang-and-feather @bubblexly @kiki-tties
#ikemen series#ikevamp#ikemen vampire#ikevamp comte#comte de saint germain#ikemen comte#comte x reader#tutor au#modern au#ikemen fanfiction#ikemen fanfic#otome fanfic#violettwrites
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Insta Following List...
Hi! First of all, we (me and @bicayaya) are so happy that you guys joined us in our Insta!AU! Maeve and Beatrice are now following y'all.
We've decided to make a little masterlist so we won't lose any of your beautiful Insta pages 💕
In case you still wanna jump in, here's the template. Just tag us if you want us to see your work and include you in this list!
Also, if you're in this list but want out, send me a DM and it'll be done.
In alphabetical order:
♡ Beatrice by @bicayaya
♡ Agnes by @altairring
♡ Ana by @citrusmornings
♡ Carina by @fang-and-feather
♡ Charlotte by @aquagirl1978
♡ Chevalier by @aquagirl1978
♡ Ciel by @floydsteeth
♡ Constance by @scummy-writes
♡ Elle by @hellecat
♡ Esther by @lorei-writes
♡ Evelyn by @chandeliermichel
♡ Imke by @dove-da-birb
♡ Keith by @keithsandwich
♡ Leyla by @violettduchess
♡ Linet by @fang-and-feather
♡ Maeve by @keithsandwich
♡ Misaki by @akitsuneswife
♡ Oliver by @olivermorningstar
♡ Persephone by @faustianfascination
♡ Rio by @floydsteeth
♡ Sigfrit by @wordycheeseblob
♡ Tala by @m-mmiy
♡ Viva by @lorei-writes
♡ Yara by @fang-and-feather
♡ Yves by @bicayaya
.
Please, let me know if I've forgotten to add you!
Updated: 08.29
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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.
~*~
Back to Masterlist
#ikevamp sebastian#ikevamp comte#ikemen vampire sebastian#ikemen vampire#ikemen vampire comte de saint germain#ikevamp writing#ikevamp#ikemen vampire fanfiction#ikemen vampire x reader#ikevamp x reader#humor#luigi's mansion au#ghost mansion AU#crack treated seriously#ghostbuster mc#spooky scary spectral vamps#alby rei
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For the OC Halloween party in the OC community i’m in 👀
Modern AU!
Halloween every year, Constance, Leanna’s coworker and close friend, and her girlfriend Gracie-May would invite her over for dinner. They usually tell her to wear costume for fun, but she has always gone to this in her normal clothes with a sticky note that says, “This is my costume: PhD student.” But Constance and Gracie-May insisted that this year, since Leanna is bringing Leonardo along, they should try couple costume. In fact, the two just need to show up at the get-together and they will handle the rest.
Aaaand a couple pinterest scrolling sessions, a consented raid of Gracie-May’s lolita dresses, and a makeover later, bam! Vampire Leanna. Constance just kinda gave Leonardo some stereotypical Dracula costume. It’d be extra funny if in this modern AU he’s still a pureblood vampire.
I might have to draw Leanna and Leo together in costumes later… The image in my mind is hilarious.
#ririart#ikevamp#ikevamp oc#ikevamp leanna#if you’re wondering who constance and gracie-may are#they’re my ocs and i shoved them into this au#i want to draw all 4 together#oh no this is living in my brain rent free
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Wtf he's so cvnty? I'm sorry Faust that it took me this long to realise how powerfully handsome you are
#i really thought he wasn't my type#now thanks to the butler au event he's knocked the air outta my lungs#ikevamp#ikemen vampire#ikevam faust
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NEW CAT BOY CAFE CHAPTER!!!
Quick facts about Drake since he isn't part of the original parts:
Mainly works as a busboy and flirts with customers as he's cleaning
Came to the city for a change of scenery and ended up loving it, but quickly found out catboys have a harder time getting a job which is how he got to the cafe
Used to live in a fishing town and work on boats. From all the salt his fur is a little dry, plus he's a Selkirk Rex which has curly fur. Mozart and Will constantly just think he doesn't take care of it
Gets sprayed by Theo A LOT
Tells stories like Dazai, and it's up to you if you believe it or not. Many sea stories.
Probably hums some sea shanties as he's cleaning
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An event?? For Theo and Jean???? Be still my heart 💘
#ikemen vampire#ikevamp#its an AU too#fake engagement for an arisocratic theo to servant girl#and arranged marriage for soldier boy jean#eeeeeeee#my vibe
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31 days (nonconsecutive) of aus:
in a rather ill-fated attempt to write more au's and get my creative juices flowing, i'm challenging myself (and u, dear unfortunate stumble-uponer of this post, if you'd like) to write the below list of aus in no particular order -- please feel free to send in a request if you'd like to see a specific au with a specific character
coffee shop au; death before decaf, ft. roronoa zoro
angels and demons au
mafia au; after a gunshot wound, ft. leona kingscholar
peter pan au; the art of being lost, ft oikawa tooru
urban fantasy au
idol au
little red riding hood au; a hunter's heart, ft. roronoa zoro (gen fairytale!au but whatever)
roadside diner au
hogwarts au
college au
high fantasy au
mythology au
doors into other worlds au
writer and muse au
convenience store au
regency au
art heist au
sherlock holmes au
faery court au
goblin market au
online dating au
guardian of hell au
sandman au
spirited away au
impressionist movement au
fashion week au
superheroes au
1920s au
reincarnation au; the story of the fox and the firefly, ft. harry gray
assassin/hitmen au
roommates au; a story in reverse, ft. jamil viper
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#twst#twisted wonderland#writing prompts#ikemen series#blue lock#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#ikemen prince#ikemen vampire#bllk x you#ikemen sengoku#ikesen#ikepri#ikevamp#31 days of aus#and yes im considering combining this with some of the things i already have in my reqs/drafts but!!!#also some of these got weird and im morbidly curious as to what other ppl might write based off this u__u so#pls lemme know if u write something based off this! :D#also hELLO ikemen fandom i know i've only writte one (1) thing but i promise there's more to come u__u
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Ikemen Vampire - Isaac x MC - Modern Setting, Reincarnation AU
For Week II of Ikemen Prompts at @ikemenprompts
Also a continuation of Lost Stars
Previous Chapter / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link
Love carried on, but human life was fragile like glass.
Building something for yourself in a place as a vampire was equally fragile. How many times had Isaac moved, struggling through his insecurities to get a new job—he didn’t always have the comfort of living with Comte, and he knew his love would have wanted for him to face the world and his problems instead of hiding again—only to have to move because he didn’t look one day older from the day he woke up in the mansion, and at some point humans would get suspicious?
Isaac missed stability.
And, through years and places, there was no sign of her ever returning to him. Sometimes, to the point it was hard to keep up hope, especially when his usually logical brain started to point out all the ways in which it was impossible.
But he had chosen to hope, and he wouldn’t give up even if it seemed hopeless.
These kinds of thoughts were constantly in his head whenever he wasn’t busy. And the memories of the time he’d spent with her.
Such distant memories, that would have faded if they weren’t so precious to him. But on the hardest nights to bear the weight of that lost love, Isaac caught himself wishing they would just fade. At least he could go back to the life he had before meeting her.
Now was not one of these times. It was one of these moments where Isaac looked around and found things he wished he could share with her. Things he knew she would like.
But what if she actually came back and was a very different person from the one he fell in love with?
Still, he couldn’t help but notice things she would have liked, such as the small cafe down the street from where he was working, that looked like a nice place for a date, or the park a few blocks from his apartment.
That meant he got used to walking home, as long as it was close enough, and that led to him being caught in a sudden downpour and having to take refuge in a nearby building.
It was a new shopping mall, quite busy in the afternoon. Although Isaac wasn’t fond of chaotic places like that, the rain was so strong that it was difficult even to get a taxi without getting drenched, so he decided to stay a little to see if it would change soon.
He bought a drink and went to explore the place. It wasn’t his idea of pastime, exactly, but there wasn’t a quiet place for him to sit, anyway.
So he wandered through the hallways, occasionally stopping at a shop when something caught his eye. Usually something he thought she would like.
He stopped at the bookstore, where he browsed for something of interest. But something else kept stealing his attention.
The space a little behind the counter was dark, only illuminated by the stars cast on the wall and ceiling. These projections came from a glass sphere decorated with these images and with a light placed underneath.
He could distinguish the Orion constellation, and the way the other stars were positioned around it made it look like a sort of map. Isaac thought he had seen a flash of something inside, and his attention fell on the attendant at the counter.
She had been reading a book, but her eyes discretely followed him as Isaac moved towards another shelf. Then their eyes met and Isaac froze, heart racing. These were the eyes that had been haunting him for years; eyes he had been longing to see again.
But it wasn’t the long fated reunion he’d been waiting for. Beyond the familiar appearance was a stranger, who looked at him with curiosity and confusion, but no trace of recognition.
Under that realization, Isaac looked away, heat rushing to his face at the way this woman, who knew nothing about him, was still staring as if he was a puzzle she was trying to make sense of.
Isaac turned his attention back to the books, now feeling like leaving, but the euphoria at meeting her again, even if she didn’t know him, battled with that urge. He was drawn to her, despite all logic saying he shouldn’t.
He dared a new glance at her, but she was looking back at the sphere, then she turned again, looking at him with a shy smile, before speaking, in what sounded like a poor attempt at being professional.
“Do you need help, sir?”
Isaac shook his head and turned back to the shelves. He couldn’t keep loitering around. He would find a better place to think instead. If she worked at this shop, he could come back when he made up his mind.
The storm was still roaring outside, not much different from the way his heart was still racing. He picked up a puzzle book to pass time and headed for the counter in what felt like slow motion, afraid he would do or say the wrong thing if he got too close to her.
“Do you come here often?” She asked, attempting to sound casual, but she still looked flustered and was avoiding looking at him again.
“It is my first time.”
“Funny. I could swear we had met before. You look so familiar, but… that can’t be. I would remember you.”
Isaac only stared at her, surprised at the words.
So a part of her ‘did’ remember him! Not the moat conscious part, though, and she was struggling to put these pieces together.
Should he help? But he didn’t want to push her. She was a new person, with a new life. He had no proof she didn’t already have someone special in this life. Or, even if she didn’t, that they could rebuild their relationship. That she would accept him.
What if she did, though? Even if she didn’t remember, there was a chance they could begin again. Build a new relationship as new people.
If he was being sincere, that was not what he wanted. But if that was what it took to be close to her again.
Isaac did his best to push all his fears and insecurities aside, like she always pushed him to do.
“What is that?” Isaac shifted his attention to the sphere. Both cursing himself for his inability to be direct, and hoping this way it would be less nerve-wracking for him, or strange for her.
“The clerk at the shop I bought it said it was a treasure sphere. It supposedly helps people find their soulmates. I’m not aure it works, but I think I saw something when I found it, so I bought it.” She walked to the little sphere and picked it up. “I have been having strange dream ever since.”
She was getting out from behind the counter to show the object to him, when a louder thunder resonated and the lights flickered off. Isaac heard her screen and grab into his arm, followed by a loud crash.
The light returned quickly as the generators activated, but she was still holding him, face hidden on his arm, her body warm and trembling against his. Isaac blushed at the contact, but tentatively wrapped his other arm around her.
“It’s okay. Everything is back to normal now.” He rubbed her back, until she calmed down and released him.
“Sorry.” She practically lept away. “I haven’t been quite myself in the dark after I bought the sphere either. It’s like something bad happened, but I don’t remember it.”
She knelt down, reaching to pick the shards of the sphere she’d lost her grip on in her fear.
“Don’t!” Isaac acted before he could think, crouching and grabbing her hand before she could touch the glass. The memories of the night he met her and the accident jumped to the front of his mind, making him shiver. He would rather not witness something like that again.
“Isaac?” She asked, hesitantly, looking up at him.
Did she just…
“What did you call me?”
“Oh, sorry. I don’t know why I said that. I just felt like that was right, somehow.” She looked away, sheepishly, gently tugging her arm away from him and Isaac releases her. “What is your name, anyway? If you don’t mind.”
“Let me do this.” Isaac started picking the glass shards, carefully. “And… I was surprised because Isaac is actually my name. For a moment I thought…”
He thought she had remembered, but of course she didn’t. Why did he almost tell her?
“Thought what?”
“It’s nothing. If you’re okay now, I… I will throw this away and I think I will be going.”
Isaac turned to leave, but she held his arm again.
“Wait!” Isaac gulped. The more time he spent with her, the more it was hard to hold back his urge of hugging and kissing her, and the burning bloodlust. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
He followed her gaze to the counter, and the book he’d been attempting to buy earlier. But her actions were not of someone worried with a possible lost sale. She was still holding him tight and there was a hint of sorrow in her eyes.
“Of course.” Isaac picked his wallet and started counting his money when she spoke again.
“And… Can I get your number? I feel like, if I let you go, I’ll never see you again and… for some reason, the idea makes me so sad.”
Isaac could barely contain himself anymore. Her soul did remember, even if her mind didn’t, and he wanted to do something to help her remember. Even if he failed and it hurt him. He couldn’t keep running away.
“Do you… believe in reincarnation? That we could have met in your past life?”
“Sounds like a fairy tale, but I think I do. After today… I want to believe. I want to believe the treasure sphere broke because it served its purpose. So, can we talk about it this weekend?”
“I would love that.”
They exchanged numbers and Isaac parted ways with her, his heart feeling much lighter.
He had finally found his lost star after years of search. His treasure hunt ending by sheer coincidence, brought in by the rain.
She had really been reincarnated, and no matter what happened between them, she was fine. Happy.
He still longed for her, but the future of their relationship was looking bright. Isaac felt so excited and nervous, but he would treasure every moment of this second chance to be with the one he loved. A new chance to be loved.
The thunder outside sounded like a roar of triumph now, instead of a cry of sorrow, now that his own storm had quieted.
Isaac smiled as he saw a message on his phone. An address, to where this new page of his story would begin. And he sent a message back.
I can’t wait.
Tag List: @tele86
If you want to be tagged on future writings, you can reply to this post or send me a message
IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist
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Comte’s Drama CD: Track Three, A Date at the Mercy of an Extraordinarily Bad(?) Adult
And we are back with our third installment of this unhinged recounting translation series, to perhaps the funniest and lowkey horniest track on the whole CD. In this one, Comte takes MC to a boutique to try on dresses and select something for a party/ball later that night. Without further ado, the contents are as follows:
Comte: Come on in. This boutique is my favorite.
There is a large variety of designs, so if you see a dress you like, don’t hesitate to give it a try.
Of course, I’m going to have you wear a lot of the dresses I select, so be prepared for that.
Let’s pick a dress for the ball tonight.
From now on, it’s my pleasure to show off the most beautiful person I know.
The way he makes me so giddy, “to show off the most beautiful person I know” no you!!!!! But also like. Lmfao the way he’s so ready for this, you can just tell this is what he lives for and it’s hilarious.
What’s that? Have you found a design that you like?
I…yes, I’ve decided. I carefully selected about ten gowns because I was worried about it.
Huh? ….I didn’t think it was that many….
Well, let’s leave that discussion aside for now and examine each dress in order.
I love how he’s like “okay what did you pick, let’s compare.” MC presumably has like two and he’s like “oh yeah, here’s ten.” And not only that, the second she’s like “uhhhhh don’t you think that’s too many??” he’s like “ANYWAY--” The way he will deadass evade any questions about excess I’m. Iconic. King Shit. Nobody Doing It Like Him. 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
I love how the energy of their married life is like: MC: I did not grow up rich Comte: YOU GON LEARN T O D A Y--
I think one of my favorite bits about Comte is how he’s like “I’m so normal” while everyone stares at him in sheer disbelief or incredulity 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
First off, this is an evening dress.
The beaded embroidery that spreads down to the hem is intended to reflect the light that spills from the chandelier overhead when dancing.
It must be breathtakingly beautiful
It’s a sight I’d love to see….Though…there is the trouble that this dress is dazzlingly attractive. (MONSIEUR IS CONFLICTED)
I feel I have made it clear (but I must reiterate) how much I love him being the living embodiment of that meme like:
Comte: Look at MC!!!! Isn’t she the prettiest!!!!! I love my wife so much!!!!!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Anyone: Wow I like her too Comte: kill bill sirens no.
I can assure you that this exotic dress would suit you without even needing to see you try it on.
A sash belt with wide cuffs and a high waist…
It’s similar to a traditional Japanese kimono from your homeland, isn’t it?
And then…a pretty floral dress with a soft/fluffy drape.
Ah...I should probably put this dangerous looking black lace dress away. (HE SOUNDS SO TURNED ON AND LOWKEY HOARSE IM)
Ah…the more I look at it, the weaker I get…I can’t choose because I think any of them would look good on you.
I find it absolutely hysterical that he tries to hide his real taste behind all these very subtle and feminine dresses and then he’s like. LOOK AT THIS. COINCIDENTALLY BLACK AND RISQUÉ DRESS. NOW YOU SEE IT NOW YOU DON’T--
Comte just give me the dress I’m yelling 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Oh that’s right…if I get all of them, I won’t have to choose…! (EXCITE)
Oh, no…haha, I know (IMMEDIATE GIVE UP)
I’m only kidding. (ARE YOU?? I DON’T BELIEVE U SIR)
But since we’re here anyway, do you mind if we look around for a while together?
I don’t know what’s cuter, the fact that he gets so hyped and then sulks immediately, or the fact that he tries to compromise and be there together for a bit longer. I love him!!!!! Mans is trying so hard to dote on her I’m dying
Yes, leave it to me. I’ll make you the best princess in the world.
Well then, let’s go to the fitting room with the dresses we have chosen…Don’t worry if you don’t know how to wear it.
I’ll help you, okay? (DON’T WHISPER I’M FRAGILE)
---
Come now, don’t run away,
At home, you let me tie the ribbons at the back and help you with your necklaces all the time.
Well the setting is a little different, so I suppose it would make sense that you might be a bit more self-conscious.
You’re blushing all the way up to the tips of your ears…you’re so cute.
I’m telling you right now, don’t even think about asking the shop clerk to help you. (EEEEEEYYYYYY YOOOOOOO)
I don’t care who it is, I’m the only one allowed to touch you like this. (SEXY SEXY O//O)
Aight so there are so many things going on here, and the asides barely even cover it all. Fuwa fuwa about the best princess in the world, no u!!!!!!!! My face was in my hands when he said she was cute, he’s so earnestly affectionate!!!!
This. mf. going into the changing room with her. Without hesitation. Sir that is not how any reputable place of business operates!!!!! I laugh even more because he sincerely sounds a bit put out trying to chase her around to let him help her 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Okay but that last bit when he’s telling her only he gets to do that stuff. Bruh. He goes lowkey savage and it’s HOT AF. Sultry and possessive inject that straight into my veins h e l l o--
…Don’t worry. No one knows what’s going on behind the curtain unless you make noise. (THAT’S NOT ALL I’M CONCERNED ABOUT SIR)
Now then…turn around and I’ll help you take off the dress you’re wearing right now. (SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP)
…You are beautiful no matter what you wear, but there’s no match for the breathtaking sight of you with nothing at all on… (STOP BEING HORNY IN PUBLIC)
I won’t do anything...If only you were quiet?
Hm? The sound of footsteps approaching…is that a clerk I hear? [audible footsteps in the background]
I’m so torn because like. There’s the half of me that’s like “go on” and the other half of me that’s like slaps his little pizza hands. Being a Comte stan is just being torn between scolding him and/or enabling him constantly LMFAO
Shh…forget other people noticing me, are you all right?
(STOP LAUGHING WHY IS IT ADORABLE) It can’t be helped. If you’re so worried, I’ll cover your lips for you. Mn…
Well…I think he’s gone…[chuckle] I didn’t mean to kiss you in a place like this.
Hm? You’re such a naughty woman…to look so love drunk with a single kiss.
We can continue this tonight…tonight we’ll have our fill. Do you like the sound of that?
I gotta wonder what MC looked like to make him be like “bro, you good?” 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 Behold the consequences of your actions, Comte, you keep wooing and charming her and she’s going to be incoherent by the end omllll. But also him finding any excuse to kiss her eyyyyyyyyyyyy (I will forgive his relentless desire for her because it’s sweet and v sexy, gold star ⭐️)
Also why does that last bit lowkey sound more like he’s trying to bargain with himself than her 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 “just be patient Abel. Bide ya time”
----
…Yes, I think this dress looks the best/most attractive on you.
(HIS LAUGHTER SEND HELP THE DELIGHT) I just knew it would look stunning on you.
Ah but I can’t help but pester you a little. Every dress looks so lovely on you.
No, it’s not just flattery…do you mind if I see you in just one more?
I don’t think I’ve ever seen or heard a man who loves to play dress up as much as he does, should I be concerned??
Sir you are under arrest for being beyond silly goofy cute LOCK THE DOORS FETCH THE CONSTABLE--
Everyone at home says it's just a deranged aristocratic hobby or that I’m turning you into a dress up doll…
The loveliness and beauty of my lover, I can’t help that there’s no end to my desire to see you shine even more.
Thank you…I’m glad you at least understand/don’t feel put upon.
Oh dear, it’s about time for the carriage to pick us up. Since we’ve tried a few things on, I think we should start heading over to the ball.
…But before that, I must offer you one piece of advice.
…Don’t show the defenseless face that I see now in front of any other man. (SO SERIOUS HEART FLUTTERY VISION GROWING DIM)
Understand? …Yes, that’s a very good answer.
Well then, let’s go, my princess.
Honestly I do feel that--while it’s hilarious and somewhat fair the mansion men rib him about dressing her up--Comte does have positive intentions regarding the whole endeavor. It was recently brought to my attention by a friend (I can take little to no credit for this idea) that part of being lovers with someone is sharing what you have. Now this obviously doesn’t mean an exacting 50/50 type of thing, rather that part of showing proper care and affiliation can involve gifts/money depending on the situation.
In the case of Comte who is a man of considerable wealth and social standing, it would potentially appear negligent if MC were to appear at a ball with a dress she’s worn before. Part of being a responsible spouse in his context, then, would be to provide her with nothing less than the most stunning jewelry and top class new dresses. While I don’t necessarily think he’s interested in his/their image in a vain way or even all that obsessed with what others think, I do think he’s concerned about being a good husband and lover. And by extension, he wants MC to enjoy nice clothing and accessories and be able to present herself at his side with confident pride.
Another dimension that’s important to consider, I think, is the fact of his upbringing. It is very likely that in his household growing up, that might have been what he was taught. I won’t spoil the next Drama CD track, but there is evidence to believe he has a number of preconceived notions about what it means to be an adequate partner to someone. Granted I don’t think he’s incapable of seeing things any other way, but I think those lessons from when he was a kid do color his perception. He was likely taught that, as a person of status, he had to be exquisitely mannered, exceptionally talented in some form of the arts, a captivating dancer, a sharp and witty conversationalist, and many more expectations that he had no choice but to meet. And most importantly, he had to be able to convey that to and lead the woman he chose for himself. We have already explored the fact that pureblood vampires are a bit extreme and inhumane in their beliefs about many things. Given how weirdly obsessed they are with breeding more of them, it really wouldn’t surprise me if they have absolute ideas about gender roles.
It almost seems like for him to feel worthy of a relationship, he feels the need to meet those expectations. On some level, it’s like he forgets MC is just happy to be beside him; she’s not necessarily all that interested in him fitting the cookie cutter perfect aristocrat spouse. And in truth, I find that whenever she reminds him of what truly matters at the core, it always seems to give him a jolt. Not that he had considered it irrelevant, but that he gets so caught up in his instinctive/learned behavior that it’s a soothing reminder that he’s more than enough to be loved as he is. I think its particularly fascinating because it really doesn’t feel superficial or naive as much as it does a product of his habits/lifestyle. Yes it allows him to stay informed and busy (beating the bad thoughts away with a broom, mood) but he also loses that depth of connection that he yearns for. (Which he also fears, of course, because of everyone he’s lost. Man Comte tough break being allergic to your own feelings fr, spamming F in the chat--)
And God like. I know I’ve said it before but. The way this man does possessiveness/jealousy????? Unmatched. Enormously attractive. Yessir I wasn’t particularly interested in looking at anyone else, but wow does it set me on fire to be reminded sternly 👀
All right well that’s it for track three, on to the next!
#ikevamp#ikemen vampire#ikevamp comte#ikevamp saint germain#ikevamp mc#ikevamp drama cd#ikevamp translations#ikevamp meta#(if you squint at the end)#fangdad propaganda#man i gotta tell yall ive never been much of a shopper#but he's so hilariously giddy and enjoys seeings the different dresses#somehow i feel like it would be fun doing it with him#i feel like he makes me a lot more amenable to things i was indifferent to/dislike LMFAO#oh abel what you do to me...#all that being said this one was mostly happy good feely times i think#the meta suggestion at the end of this track gets expanded on in the next one so do look forward to that#au revoir friends and until next time~#not incorrect quotes
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Ikemen Vampire - High School AU - Student ID Card Version
Vampire Academy - School Year 2019 - Arc 1 suitors
You are a new transfer student into the academy, your new teacher hands you a student list in your class, who is gonna be your study buddy 🤭
Class President: Napoleon Bonaparte - Fav subject: P.E
Class Vice President: Isaac Newton - Fav subject: Physics
Music Club President: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart - Fav subject: Music
Art Club President: Leonardo Da Vinci - Fav subject: Non-specific (born genius, Class sleepy-head)
Art Club Member: Theodorus and Vincent Van Gogh - Fav subject: English (Theo - for wise communication), Art (Vincent)
The silent member: Jean D’Arc - Fav subject: P.E (P.E bestie with Napoleon)
Literature Club President: Arthur Conan Doyle - Fav subject: Literature, Math
Here are their student card 😆😆😆😆😆
#cybird ikemen#otome game#cybird#ikevamp#fanart#ikemen vampire#ikevamp leonardo#ikevamp napoleon#ikevamp mozart#ikevamp arthur#ikevamp theodorus#ikevamp vincent#ikevamp isaac#ikevamp jean#high school au#anadreamart
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Howdy Folks!
I'm so excited about @candied-boys CountryRadio Event that I'm opening up requests for 24 hours!
Pick one of the awesome prompts provided (or make up your own!) for any of the Ikepri / Ikevamp suitors!
Make sure to let me know if you have a preference for angst, fluff or spicy and YES I will write your OC if you want to request it! You are also welcome to request either of my OCs as well! 😉
I've written 3 Cowboy AUs already (Gilbert, Chevalier, Jin) and am currently working on a Cyran fic.
As always, I can't guarantee fulfillment of every request but I hope that doesn't deter you from asking 💜
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Vincent and Vlad for @yanderepuck‘s caboy café au! i’m in the middle of experimenting with my art style rn so sorry if yall think it looks funky :/ enjoy cat bois <3
#Ikemen Vampire#ikemen series#ikemen vampire vlad#ikemen vampire vincent#Catboy Cafe AU#ikevamp vlad#ikemen vincent#ikemen vampire fanart#Fanart
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