#vincent x jean

[koco-coko]

the rarest pair (even cybrid doesnt know about it)

listen to me guys

We all know the mozart x jean or (the basically canon) comte x leonardo/vlad and the many arthur ships and blah blah blah

MY question is... where is the most underrated most unthought of most ignored rarepair

Jean x Vincent

LISTEN.

Sunshine x Gloom

Both very naive and in need of a cuddle + self-worth

Jean often refers to the love interest as an angel or beacon of light in his darkness and * looks over * Vincent is Vincent

Jean is called beautiful a lot and I have no doubt Vincent would love to paint someone who's beauty had them mistaken for a woman (#MakeJeanMoreAndrogynous)

They're both banned from the kitchen they can be horrible cooks together!!!!! They can try to cook for each other and end up almost making the kitchen explode (romantically)!!!!

Please someone has to see where I'm going with this AND YET THEY NEVER INTERACT. They're interactions could be SO good but noooo cybrid doesnt want to full my specific type of delulu

[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*

~~~

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: little things the ikevamp suitors love about you.

WARNINGS: none!! :D

COMMENTS: this is kinda to get me back in the writing groove again. i thought this was really cute as i was writing it hehe

napoleon adores your voice, the sweet sound of it carrying in the wind as you cheer him on when he spars. your voice goes higher when you talk to jupiter and lower when you talk to the kids he teaches, and although he’ll never tell you he notices these things, it’ll be evident when you look over at the teasing smirk on his face.

mozart adores the contrast between your klutziness and your grace, he’s caught you swaying to his music when you clean before, now that you two often find yourself sharing the same space. his eyes wander to you as he plays under the guise of making sure you don't slip on the sleek floors and injure yourself...but really, he is enraptured by you.

leonardo adores your lips, even more so when they’re on his own. ever the flirt, he makes sure your lips are always turned upwards in a bashful smile, the one that makes the corners of your eyes crinkle and your cheeks warm up. he touches your cheeks, brushing his fingers along your skin before kissing you, leaving you both smiling.

arthur adores your eyes, the way they’re always trained on him, the way he can see himself reflected in yours and just knows you see yourself in his. he loves how soft they look as they gaze upon him, a hopeless man, a sinner, a weak and helpless person that couldn’t save the ones he wanted to save most. you can still look at him, and that's all he could ever ask from you.

isaac adores your neck and the way it looks when you wear necklaces and different collared shirts and different hairstyles. he finds himself flustered at the thought of pressing his lips to where your neck meets your shoulder, sprinkling the skin with his kisses and dusting it with soft whispers for the both of you to cherish.

vincent adores your smile and the way it makes him happy, too. he loves that you never shy away from your feelings and you aren’t scared of his. you smile when he expresses what he wants, as if him craving and needing and wanting makes you happy, and oh if that’s what it takes to see you beam like you’ll love him forever, vincent will embrace every part of him.

theo loves your arms and how they work hard every day, only to wrap around him at the end of it all. it melts his heart when your head finds itself over his heartbeat, listening to his pulse as you shut your eyes. he’s never felt more weak in the knees in his life. you’ve ruined him, but he doesn’t care just so long as you keep holding him and working hard at his side.

dazai adores your waist and all of the uses it has. he loves kneading the flesh he finds there, making you squeal because those spots may be a bit ticklish. he finds himself placing a hand there as he walks with you, holding you close to his side, just close enough to catch your scent. it’s cheesy when he grabs your waist to lift you into the air, swinging you around in an impromptu dance, but his heart melts with love for you when your hands find themselves over his, keeping him latched onto you.

jean adores how you wake up in the morning, all sleepy and confused. every little noise you make makes his heart skip a beat, and so he captures every single one and places them in the corner of his mind labeled with your name for safekeeping. maybe then, even when you’re gone, he’ll still be able to know you. the heart that pounds so vehemently for you nearly pops out of his chest when you throw an arm over him and snuggle into his chest, a delicate smile on your face.

will adores how you smell when you come out of the shower, all freshened up. the fragrances of all the products you two picked out together waft throughout the villa, and will doesn’t find himself minding that he can smell you everywhere. after all, you’ve left your mark on this place, and furthermore, his heart.

comte adores you for staying by his side, even though he knows it’s hard. he’s been so painfully lonely for most of his life, and even now he doesn’t feel he fits anywhere. but you come along and take him into your arms, gently collecting all of his broken pieces, and you bring him back together with your embrace. this. this is where he belongs. he is certain of it.

sebastian adores your laughter and the way you seem to infect the mansion with it. he hears it ringing in his ears even when you aren’t around, the sweet sound carrying through his memories as he busies himself with chores and thoughts of you. it isn’t easy running an entire mansion, but with you by his side, bumping him with your hip as the two of you wash dishes, he couldn’t be happier.

vlad adores how you love vampires just as much as he loves humans. you have always tried to get him to bridge the gap with comte and trust humans again, and although it's not easy he sees your efforts and he loves you for it. you’re strange for not fearing him, for staying by his side throughout all he has done, but he’s glad for it.

faust adores how you’re so honest. you set boundaries and mean them, you tell people off when they’re encroaching on your space, and you make sure the environment you foster around yourself is as lovely as it can be. it makes him smug, knowing you’re so capable and he’s the one that gets to call you his. 

charles adores your fingertips and the way they map out his body, pressing into his scalp to soothe him and trailing down his back when he wants a hug. you’re always so gentle with him, treating him like he’s precious like he’s loved, and he knows he can never get enough of it. you’re so sweet, indulging him like this. he will never be able to stop loving you.

[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

[fang-and-feather]

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Rating: G

Category: F/M, M/M, Multi

Relationship: Jean D'arc x Vincent Van Gogh x Reader

Tags: Jean's POV, Fluff, Relationship Milestones Jean being very emotional over it

Words: 459

Summary: Jean found it hard to sleep the first time he agreed to sleep with both his partners. Instead he finds himself thinking about their relationship and reveling on their warmth.

Written for August's Polyam Shipping Day Prompt: Warmth from @polyamships

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

Jean found it hard to sleep the first time he agreed to sleep with both his partners.

You and Vincent had fallen asleep rather quickly, each on one side of him, snuggling close.

He had agreed to this arrangement, not thinking much of it. It was normal for lovers to sleep together, besides you were only sleeping, and he had already slept alone with you, although not with Vincent yet.

But now, between the two of you, he couldn’t help but think.

That you loved him was still a surprise. How could such angels like you care so much for a monster like him? How could you feel so safe and comfortable in his arms like this?

Not that he could say anything. He had allowed you to get close. To sneak your way into his heart.

Your love for him still filled him with such warmth that sometimes it burned. His heart felt so full whenever he was with you that it ached, almost as if it could burst.

He still wished to hide sometimes, but you were there when he did. You dragged him into your radiant light, enveloped him with your warmth. You were like the sun, chasing away the night, until he was warm himself.

This was the happiness he had long ago given up on having.

His eyes burned as he gently pulled you even closer.

All his life, he never realized how much he longed for this warmth. This was like a dream, but it was real. He was loved.

He looked at Vincent on one side, then at you on the other, feeling his cheeks starting to become wet. To his surprise, you reached out, whipping away a tear.

“Are you okay? If it’s too much, we can go back to our rooms.”

Your worry and consideration only warmed his heart further. But these were tears of happiness.

Jean couldn’t find his words, overwhelmed with happiness. He shook his head, smiling at you.

“We will be happy to be here as long as you allow us.” Vincent leaned closer, caressing his cheek, and Jean hugged both of you. “Whenever you need us.”

“Je t’aime, mes anges.” Was the first words he managed to whisper, kissing each of you.

You had tears in your eyes too, and the two of you hugged him back.

It was the first time he had managed to tell you he loved you, wasn’t it? He had struggled with his feelings, even after you confessed yours. After he started to let you get closer.

But saying these words made him feel like he was finally free of doubt and fear.

“Thank you for bringing light and warmth into my life.” He whispered.

“Always. Because we love you too.”

Tag List:

@tele86, @nightghoul381, @natimiles, @bicayaya,

@eventinelysplayground, @queengiuliettafirstlady

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

[vcodenv]

ೃ Ikevamp Suitors Playing Uno ⁀ 🏹

pt 2

▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄▀▄

Vincent & Jean.

warnings : none

I’m back after not posting for almost a month ‼️

˗ˏˋ Vincent ´ˎ˗

⋆ ★ He’s literally an angel as always, which is extremely rare in a game of Uno.

⋆ ★ Always mutters a sorry whenever he puts down a +2 or +4.

⋆ ★ The suitors also feel bad whenever they make him pick up cards.

⋆ ★ Always congratulates the winner.

⋆ ★ Constantly has to calm down his guard dog Theo.

“Now, now, Theo. You’ll win next time.”

˗ˏˋJean ´ˎ˗

⋆ ★ Give him time to process because this boy has no clue what he’s doing.

⋆ ★ Literally, “If Johnny has two apples…”

⋆ ★ Forgets to yell out “UNO.” whenever he has one card left and ends up having to pick up.

⋆ ★ Makes the rest of the suitors wait so long for him to find a card in his hand to put down, just for him to draw from the deck instead 30 minutes later.

⋆ ★ Shows everyone his cards and asks, “can I use this one?” before he puts it down.

⋆ ★ Secretly has it out for Comté the entire game. He saves up all his +2 cards and then immediately uses them once Comté calls Uno.

[wwprice1]

X-Factor art by John Byrne — inked by Walt Simonson!

[heckcareoxytwit]

With the help of Jean Grey, Doctor Strange manages to free the man by defeating Dormammu with the Mysterium coin. Also, Dormammu's defeat at the hands of the Guardians of the Galaxy is referenced in this comic.

Doctor Strange v6 #3, 2023

[y4h3l1n]

Mi gringe masterlist, no llores sangre por favor.

Disfruta ~

Tipo/Type:

★ Headcanons

♪ One-shots

↻ AU

❀ series

♡ Fluff

♤ Angst

♧ Random

♢ Smut

Ikemen Vampire

The mansion

Residentes/Residents

Le comte of Saint Germain

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE Part 1

(Probablemente ❀ en un futuro/Probably ❀ In the future)

Nothing Yet

Leonardo Da Vinci

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 1

Nothing Yet

Napoleón Bonaparte

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 1

Nothing Yet

Arthur Conan Doyle

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 1

Nothing Yet

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 1

Nothing Yet

Vincent Van Gogh

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 1

Nothing Yet

Theodorus Van Gogh

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 1

Nothing Yet

Isaac Newton

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 1

Nothing Yet

Osamu Dazai

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 1

Nothing Yet

Jean D'arc

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 1

Nothing Yet

Sebastian/Akihiko Satou

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 1

Nothing Yet

Castle of Vlad

Nothing Yet

Vlad

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 2

Nothing Yet

Charles-Henri Sanson

↻ - ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 2

Nothing Yet

Johann Georg Faust

↻- ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 2

Others

Nothing Yet

William Shakespeare

↻- ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 2

Nothing Yet

Francis Drake

↻- ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 2

Nothing Yet

Galileo Galilei

↻- ★ AU APOCALYSIS ZOMBIE part 2

End

[tournament-of-x]

The Tournament of X

Contestants Index

[toxicanonymity]

THE WAX JOB

PAIRING: Bo Sinclair x f!reader WC: 1.3k words | MASTERLIST WARNINGS: I8+ Dark. Noncon/dubcon (captivity), you're into it, as usual with mine. sick & twisted use of wax. PIV, creampies, breeding, forced pregnancy, lactation, dark caretaking/mild dark fluff. Started as HCs. End note. NOTE: Inspired by the 30-second scene at 3:10.

Breeding you is something Bo must do, like a farm chore. He keeps you locked up in the basement and visits you at the end of each day. You're kept on a worn medical chair, similar to what you'd find in a dentist's office, but roomier. Each evening, you hear him roll the garage door down upstairs, and it makes your heart flutter. Within a few minutes, his heavy footsteps echo down the stairs, and the jingle of his belt unbuckling. Sometimes a groan of fatigue.

He stares you down hungrily as he approaches with slow steps, tan hand flexing as he rubs himself. His strong forearms are smeared with motor oil from working in the garage. He takes you to the bathroom and watches you go, then puts you back in the chair. Manhandles you if he has to. Sometimes he stops to take a polaroid.

He stands at the foot of the chair and lifts his trucker hat to wipe his brow with the back of his wrist, then pulls the hat down into place again. He takes off his boots and tight jeans, casually talking to himself about the day and how pretty you look.

He spreads your legs. You fall into a trance salivating over the shape in his boxer briefs as he climbs onto the chair with you. He shoves his underwear down under his balls, and holds his cock in his hand, squeezing it a few times as he ogles your body. Shame heats your face as you watch and yearn for his thick, veiny cock.

In the first days, he keeps you gagged the whole time, but once he sees how much you enjoy it, he wants to hear your pretty sounds.

He pulls your dress up over your tits - no panties. allowed. He wets his lips, and smiles darkly to himself at the sight of your glistening cunt.

As he notches himself at your entrance, sweat drips off his face. Your lips part as he begins to push in. He bottoms out with a groan. He stays there and twitches inside. Without moving yet, he mutters, "gonna be such a pretty mama," and runs his thumb over your lips.

He grunts as he fucks you, and each thrust shakes the chair and makes it squeak, echoing off the walls. Sometimes he's rough. Sometimes he's slow.

He braces a forearm above your head and his sweat wafts from the darkened pit of his uniform.

With your cunt spread open around his cock, your mouth falls open with a moan. A salty drop rolls down his chin and lands in your mouth.

After a minute, you begin to whimper and squirm as you approach your climax. The basement is dusty and humid and you're sweating.

"You're gonna cum for me now," he pants, and you spasm. "Yeah, cum for me, darlin'," he whispers darkly, and it sends you. Your hips lift, your body jerks, you moan as your walls choke his cock, and he chuckles, "good girl. . . That's my girl."

He becomes more vocal as he fucks you through it. Sighing, grunting, moaning, "Good g---oh, baby."

"Ugghh---Here we go, darlin'," he mutters as he nears his peak. He groans unrestrained as he bottoms out and pulses warmly, heat spreading deep in your cunt.

He stays all the way inside and with his face inches from yours, he admires your features. He gently wipes the sweat from your brow, then slowly thrusts again as his last spasms fade. "Mmm."

Once he pulls out, he adjusts the chair so your feet are up. He calls for Lester to bring dinner down. Bo feeds you a few bites, or let's Vincent do it. Sometimes he tells you a little about his day like you're not strapped down with your legs in the air.

And then, when Bo's hard again -- which isn't long -- he goes again. And again. Until you can't physically hold any more cum.

Once you're full of his seed, Bo dismounts the chair and calls for Vincent as he pulls his jeans back on. He doesn't buckle them.

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

Vincent comes in with an old paint can full of hot wax and stands by the chair like an assistant. He doesn't look at you. Your legs are raised again and bo spreads your thighs wide. "Good girl," he whispers, then mumbles to Vincent, "ain't she pretty?"

Vincent offers Bo a cloth. Bo braces a hand on your mound and wipes any spilled cum off your lips, getting them as dry as he can. He reassures himself, "that's okay," as he laments the lost seed.

Then, he dips his thumb in the hot wax and Vincent looks away.

Bo brings his thumb between your legs and applies the hot wax to your outer labia, one after the other. He uses his thumb to tuck your folds inside, and then he presses your outer lips together and holds them shut like a clam.

"Little more," he urges Vincent. He adjusts his left hand so two of his massive fingers are holding your cunt shut. Then he extends his right hand toward Vincent and dips two fingers into the hot wax and dribbles some on the outside. "Good," he mutters and Vincent steps away.

Still holding you shut, Bo brings his face between your legs and gently blows on the hot wax, helping it dry. He takes his time with this, and his eyes sparkle at his work. "Night sweetheart," he whispers to your cunt and plants a kiss on your mound, then one on your lower belly.

This continues until you're pregnant.

_____________

Once you're pregnant, they let you upstairs to celebrate and Lester makes a special cake. They give you a new dress.

All three of them darkly dote on you throughout your pregnancy. You're still locked up, but you're allowed upstairs with supervision.

Bo has Vincent make a wax cast of your torso every month and they're displayed throughout the main floor of the house on makeshift pedestals. Lester is the one who's responsible for making your food and taking care of your basic needs. He's polite and never tries anything.

Bo is obsessed with your pregnant body. He can't keep his hands off you. You're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen, and he'd mad with lust.

Once your milk comes in, Bo tastes it every day. He pulls your dress up over your tits and suckles sloppily at your engorged tits.

He lets the sweet breastmilk run down over the curve of your belly and he licks it up. Once he's down there he can't resist eating you out, which makes him really hard. Sometimes he does it right after dinner, while you're still in the common area. You're laid back on a threadbare couch with your legs over his shoulders. He doesn't mind if Lester or Vincent see, although they normally don't stick around to watch.

Feasting between your legs, Bo feverishly takes his cock out with one hand as he keeps his other hand on your breast. He can't pull his mouth away until he's ready to shove himself into you. He runs his tip through your folds, then pushes into you. He fucks you slow and gentle.

He briefly sucks your tit again as he fucks you. He makes sure you cum, then when he's ready to do the same, his face hovers an inch from yours. He Looks in your eyes, then lowers his forehead to yours. He groans against the corner of his mouth, then kisses you on the lips as he cums. His lips break away with a moan, then he kisses you gently as he finishes.

He cleans you up, and lets you sleep in his bed.

----------

tagging @lunitawrites my breeding encourager

Inspired by the moment from the link and a terrible product concept - I'm haunted by Mensez Feminine Lipstick, but go have a laugh if you want. notice his logo looks like a ball sack. This man actually wants us to glue our lips shut during our period. If you have Qs about the logistics of this. Please ask that guy 💀

[koco-coko]

When the World Exploded - - Vincent x Jean - Ikemen Vampire Fic

-> His eyepatch was off, and yet the world didn’t end. In fact, it began anew.

Tags/Warnings <--> Angst then Fluff, Lots of Cuddles and Kisses, Soft and Slow, Bad Cooking, Hidden Relationship, Beginning of Relationship, HEAVY SPOILERS for BOTH suitors, Main POV: Jean D'Arc, HEAVY Exploration of Depression, Passive Suicidal Ideation and Religious Guilt.

Word Count: 5,005 (Around 12 pages)!

A/N <--> this originally started as super fluff but boy oh boy I forgot how messed up these two were. Still super fluff but wow I may have gone a little overboard. So please don't force yourself to read this if you're really sensitive to these things, promise I won't be hurt by it <:)

i think they might like this: @azulashengrottospiano @natimiles @weirdwriter69 (lots of interaction with the jean x vincent posts so i thought i'd tag sorry if you didnt want to be)

Jean never expected to be here. Jean didn’t expect to be alive. Jean didn’t expect much of anything, really.

So imagine his surprise to remember that a blonde painter had arms tightly wrapped around his waist and kept drawing him closer into the scent of dry paint and sunflowers, a hint of pancake batter mixed in there, too.

Jean tried to move away, only to have the arm around him tense and pull him further in. A small hum came from the sleeping painter, his head resting on back of Jean's neck. He couldn’t help it when an uncomfortable shudder went through him. His lips were so close to his ear, the beating of his heart right against his back…

Sure, they agreed beforehand but he never expected this. A part of him wanted to escape. It was all too much, too new. Yet Vincent wouldn’t let him get away, and maybe that was for the better. Despite the blank face and cold demeanor, he was sensitive to many, many things. A case of touch-starvation didn’t help the fact. After a momentary inner conflict, Jean let out a deep sigh and dug his face into the pillow beside him. He could do it. He fell asleep like this once tonight, he could do it again.

He came to learn that there were a lot of firsts when being revived as a vampire.

It was the first time he ever felt attracted to someone, let alone a man.

It was only when Vincent started painting outside more often that Jean started feeling… things. Tingles in his stomach whenever he saw the man paint a dark night sky with swirls of light. Shakes when he caught glimpses of a notebook filled with anatomy practice and fencing positions, all suspiciously bearing a resemblance to Jean. It could be argued that a few were Napoleon, though. The lines were messy enough. These sensations started following him around the mansion, too. At the dinner table, he always felt lighter when he heard Vincent giggle at something Arthur said. Eventually, a simple greeting smile sent a shiver through the poor soldier’s body and all he could do was scuttle off into the piano room. 

Vincent was too radiant for a sinner to handle, he deduced. It seemed logical at the time. Jean’s chest was always empty and Vincent always had light to bring to someone. The world was a better place with Vincent in it and it was worse with Jean. That was just how things were. Jean was ready to accept that over… Well…

“Can I paint you?”

It was the first time anyone ever asked… that. Jean had been avoiding Vincent, more than usual, but one late night out of his room for a bottle of Rouge led to them meeting again. Vincent was already coated in paint, perhaps from a late night project, filling one of his paint cups with fresher water.

Jean was a frozen statue for a while, but when Vincent’s smile slowly faded, he suddenly came to. “Why me?” he asked, quietly.

Vincent looked to the side, the enthusiasm of the initial question trailing off. “I’ve never seen anyone like you?”

So unclean, full of sin and guilt?

“So… pretty?” 

Jean shifted on his feet uncomfortably, staring at the painter in front of him with wide eyes.

Vincent was quick to catch his mistake. “In a manly way! Very male-orientated. But beautiful and elegant, too! So, um, beautifully handsome? Does that make sense?”

Not at all. Jean felt his entire mind and body shut down, then come back, then shut down again. 

Beautiful? Handsome? Was this some sick joke?

“You didn’t drink that, did you?” Jean asked, shyly pointing to the paint-stained cup in his hands.

Vincent glanced down at it, then backed up. “No, I don’t believe so,” he almost chuckled, “Why would you think that?”

“You don’t seem in your right mind,” he responded. “I’m none of what you have described me as. I would suggest getting your eyes checked in the near future.” Jean turned to make his exit, bottle of Rouge in hand.

Vincent’s lips went ajar, blinking in disbelief. Then, he laughed. Jean froze. It was almost insulting to hear that. “Well, I don’t think so. I don’t know you too well, sure, but you seem nice.”

Those words sent butterflies through him.

Whenever Jean looked in the mirror, all he saw was a husk of a living being. He couldn’t say human anymore. He was ugly, inside and out. He longed for life, for warmth, comfort, yet every time it faced him, he ran away. God put him on this Earth to suffer in an endless cycle, yet he couldn’t break his piety to such a cruel deity. 

It was something he’d slowly started to accept– the emptiness was a part of his life. If death came to face him, like a fool, he’d fight it, only to realize that victory meant waking up to another day, only after the fact.

Then, an angel descended upon him. It smiled with bright light, with hair as gold as a halo and beamed at him with kind, blue eyes.

“I guess I’ll just ask again,” the angel asked, “Can I paint you sometime?”

Who was he, a mortal man with sins too heavy to weigh, to deny the messenger of God?

It was the first time he ever ‘modeled’ for someone. 

He never stopped by Vincent’s room for the specific purpose of sitting in a chair for hours on end (when they did try, it was so unpleasant that Jean almost fainted), but he visited on occasion.

Instead of modeling, Vincent would simply follow Jean around at random times with a sketchbook in hand, capturing moments of life in a still, pencil-drawn image. At the end of the day, when the stars twinkled in through Vincent’s window, Jean was invited in and the two chatted about the scenes the blonde had drawn.

“That’s not me,” Jean would say each time, “That man is too pure to be me.”

And every time, Vincent would shake his head and chuckle. “You should really start being nicer to yourself.” Vincent would then quietly whisper to himself, “Rich, coming from me of all people, but the advice still stands.” 

Jean never tried to respond to his extra comments, until one late evening– “Perhaps we both should.”

Vincent’s expression was unreadable as he silently flipped to the next page.

It was the first time someone tried to cook for him. Keyword: tried.

Everyone in the mansion began to notice that the most polar opposites of the mansion had so suddenly gravitated toward each other. Napoleon was surprised when Vincent first appeared at their sparring matches as a regular guest, but now? Why, now he was surprised not to greet him.

Mozart was the most confused, of course. A soldier and a painter? Really, what would they ever want to do with each other? Jean was such a recluse, too. What did Vincent say to him that made him stray from his hideaway room and weapons shop? Theodorus seemed to share this sentiment, trailing behind his older brother like a guard dog.

Still, it didn’t surprise anyone when Vincent wanted to make something for Jean’s birthday.

It did surprise Sebastian that same morning to find the kitchen in shambles. Vincent stood in the middle of it all, a fire blazing inside the oven. Apparently, he had tried to make a batch of macarons. 

It took the help of half the mansion to salvage what they could. When Jean was presented with burnt yet somehow undercooked macarons, he just… stared at them.

“How did you know I liked these?” he asked, trying to ignore the smoke coming from the kitchen area.

Vincent’s smile was drenched in embarrassment. “Ah, well, whenever we go to your shop together, I always see you looking at the macarons in the window displays. So, I just assumed you liked them. Glad you do! I would’ve looked silly if not…”

“Thank you.” Jean practically cut him off before he could say anything else. To show his gratitude, he took one from the pan and tossed it in his mouth. Vincent cringed.

The soldier’s eyes burst open with shock. It was so… mushy and crunchy and… How in God’s name could something like this even be created? It was a crime against pastries everywhere. 

“Sorry,” Vincent mumbled, “I’m not really a sweet’s fan, so…”

That was all it took to convince Jean to push through, swallowing the macaron (could you even call it that?) with much strain. 

“Don’t be. It’s the thought that matters,” Jean said, taking the tray from Vincent. “I… I’ll cherish this forever.”

Jean was looking down at the floor shyly, but he swore he saw a pink color grow on Vincent’s cheeks.

Later that night, he found a portrait of himself waiting by his door. In his critical eyes, it was too divine to look anything like him, but the distinctive stroke style made Vincent the clear painter. A note was attached to the bottom, reading:

“Happy birthday! Sorry for the macarons this morning. Maybe after you close your shop tomorrow, we can go to a bakery and get some non-burnt ones! We could bring them home for a tea party, if you’d like!

Also, I think I finally had enough sketches of you to make a painting, so here’s the finished thing! I hope you like it. I’d like to make more, if you’re comfortable with that

– Vincent Van Gogh”

Unfortunately, Jean wasn’t the most literate. He enjoyed the fact that with paintings, written words were unnecessary. It was a walk of shame to bring the note to Mozart so he could read it for him.

It didn’t completely miss him, though, despite his usual density. Vincent wanted to paint him more. An invitation for more time spent together.

When the fact hit him, Mozart had to double-take the smile he saw on his friend’s face.

It was the first time he ever kissed someone. 

Now, granted, he didn’t remember that until the next morning’s hangover passed. 

Jean was known to be insanely lightweight, so why he was given a glass of wine- no one knows. Unfortunately, his drunkenness often made him very… touchy. So when the mansion had a banquet drawn long into the night, Jean was practically laying on top of Vincent (much to Theo’s ire).

So, Vincent offered to bring Jean back to his room. His strength was only one factor in it, but Jean’s touchy-feely state made it a slight struggle to bring him into the room without losing his balance and being blinded by Jean’s clinginess. 

Vincent has an arm wrapped around Jean as they make their way into his empty room. “Jeanie!” Vincent yelped, “I’m trying to put you to bed!” Through his struggle, he was laughing. Drunken Jean thought it was the most adorable thing in the world. It also didn’t help that Vincent was feeling a bit tipsy, too. He couldn’t stop himself from giggling at the absurdity of Jean’s actions even when he was worried for him.

When Vincent finally managed to get Jean into his room without tripping over his feet for a fourth time, he was content to call it a night. Unfortunately, Jean did not. He latched onto his arm and wouldn’t let go. 

“Wait,” he whispered in a hoarse voice, “Please stay.”

Vincent couldn’t tell if it was the wine getting to him or not, but something made his cheeks grow red.

It was hard to remember the rest. Vincent tried to coax Jean into bed, but he refused, instead wrapping his arms around Vincent and locking him in an embrace.

It was a stupored dance, rocking back and forth as the painter tried to keep the soldier on his feet and not knock the two of them over. Not that he minded, though. The closeness was… oddly welcome.

“C’mon, Theo is going to worry if I don’t go back soon! I promise we’ll see each other tomorrow!” Vincent said, taking steps towards Jean’s bed.

Jean pulled back against him, his head leaning on Vincent’s chest. “But I want you here now.” 

How could the pure angel say no to such a shy request? It’d break poor Jeanie’s heart to force him off!

The swaying continued, Jean moving closer and closer, until…

What was it Arthur said? ‘Drunken words were sober thoughts?’ Did that translate to actions, too? 

The mens’ lips met, for just a brief second, but long enough for Vincent’s to turn into a living cherry. 

They stared at each other for a moment, lust and liquor made Jean’s gaze cloudy, just as it fogged his mind. Vincent was more aware, but maybe he was hazy, too. 

Jean went in again, losing all semblance of balance, leaning all his weight onto Vincent as his knees bent and only the tips of his toes remained dragging on the ground.

If he was a sinner, so be it. He couldn’t take it anymore– the strange pulses of his heart whenever Vincent smiled in the sunlight or told him he was beautiful. He was looked down upon by Heaven’s eye, so what was the point in searching for salvation any longer?

The devil named ethanol overtook Jean, but maybe it claimed Vincent’s heart, too. He didn’t even stumble, catching Jean’s weight and slowly easing into the second kiss. And the fourth. And the seventh.

When the eleventh finished, Vincent suddenly gained consciousness again and forced Jean into bed, running off soon after. Jean was too drunk by then and passed out before he could realize what he’d done.

When day broke the next day, Jean was alone in his bed. No memory came to him until 10 A.M. 

What in God’s name had he done!? What sweet temptation overcame him? He was never drinking again, surely! His heart beat out of his chest with images and sensations flashed by him. With Vincent? He had stooped so low as to share affections with a man!? An innocent one, at that! He couldn’t believe he had even dared to touch the painting angel, tainting him with fault and impurity. God almighty, damnation was all he would receive. He’d turned his back to God thousands of times, but this had to be it. The Holy Spirit would claim him at any moment, banishing him to the pits of hell. Forgiveness was fully out of reach. Why did he have to be revived? He should’ve suffered on that stake, right where he belonged.

Jean locked himself in his room for weeks, only answering when Mozart came to drop off a bottle of Rouge. The pianist would try to speak, only for the door to be slammed in his face. The few glimpses residents did catch of him weren’t all too uplifting, either: Jean, knelt over his bedside with a rosary, muttering the Hail Mary over and over as if he would face judgment at any second. He only left to go to the weapons shop. Jean would avoid Vincent like the plague, or in his case, a harsh blaze. 

Vincent didn’t fare much better. He was more shy and nervous around the mansion, his paintings became more chaotic and surreal. He tried to ignore it, push down every bit of emotion that started to rise in his chest, but… the unfinished paintings spoke for themselves. Lilly fields, the brandish of a sword, a fire burning sweetly in a fool’s chest.

Vincent felt his hands shake when he flipped through his sketchbook, only to find the same thoughts circling him. His chest felt like it would explode. He didn’t think anything of it when they first grew close to each other, but things were different now.

It was the first time anyone ever told him that.

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The sword fell from his hands with a loud clatter. Jean was a statue in the middle of the weapons shop while Vincent stood by the door, his hand on the knob.

The store was closed, but Vincent had been gifted a key a while ago. Vincent brightened any room he stepped in with such a radiant light that Jean felt blinded by it. Except… Even with the sunset behind him, illuminating him like an angel, Vincent appeared to him as a normal man.

He was impure, too. He sinned. He felt. Vincent wasn’t a big fan of that last one. 

“You’re mistaken, monsieur.” Jean’s words cut like a sword; through the air and through Vincent’s heart. Vincent clutched his chest. “Whatever… this… is, it is not love. Lucifer is tempting us. We must not give in.” Jean picked the blade from the floor and placed it back on the rack, his brows knit. He kept his back turned to Vincent. He couldn’t even stand to look at him anymore. He was trying to resist the call of lust, after all. “There is nothing to love about me. Do not let the devil fool you, Vincent.”

Vincent’s head was filled with new feelings, but he knew this one too well: Hurt. It felt like Jean had just struck him in the heart with no remorse. Jean had always been blunt, a bit cold and dense, but this was cruel! Vincent’s fingers curled in, his fingernails stabbing the palm of his hand.

“Why not?” Vincent demanded. Jean wasn’t used to a harsh tone from the painter. “I-I…” Vincent practically trembled as he tried to force the words out. “Why do you get to decide what I’m feeling?”

Jean swallowed hard. He… He never thought of it like that. God was the only judge, why was he deciding for the painter? He opened his mouth to speak, but Vincent cut him off as he stepped closer.

“I love you, Jean. And, sure, maybe I don’t have the best grasp on feelings yet, but I know I love you.” Vincent’s declaration was made and there was no going back. It was a bit scary, pouring the beatings of his heart in front of Jean, but it had to be done. “You’re not going to convince me I don’t. I’m sorry.”

Jean was… silent. His violet eyes were wide, but there were unreadable emotions going through him. Vincent couldn’t bring himself to gaze at Jean for more than a few seconds. Not yet. He had no idea how the soldier would react. He was always so cynical, so shrouded in mystery, but that only made Vincent want to show him the sun even more.

“Why?” Jean parroted Vincent’s previous question. “What is there to love about me?” His voice cracked. As much as he tried to hide it, tears were being forcibly choked and swallowed to save his pride.

Vincent’s shoulders slowly slumped as the tension melted. Oh, what wasn’t there to admire. “Well… You’re strong.”

No I’m not, his mind argued.

“And you’re very kind. You’re always so thoughtful and thinking of others.”

It can’t be true.

“I can only dream to be as selfless as you, really!”

That was a blatant lie. What kind of game was he pulling? Only then did Jean’s thoughts stray. Vincent would never lie so openly. Was there truth in his words?

“I like spending time with you, too. You’ve always got something fun to say, when you do talk. And I like it when we go places. You keep talking about that field of lilies, so I think we could go there next!”

His mind’s voice couldn’t think up a retort in time.

“And… Well, I said it when we first met, right? You’re beautifully handsome. That’s something to enjoy, too,” Vincent giggled nervously, “Not as much as the other things, though! More of an added bonus.”

Vincent peeled his eyes off the floor to meet with an unseemly sight. Saint Jeanne D’Arc, staring him right in the face, with a hand over his mouth and tears rolling down his cheeks. It was sacrilegious to watch.

“Hey, don’t cry, Jeanie,” Vincent whispered, moving right in front of Jean to wipe his tears with his thumb. His hand lingered on the man’s cheek. 

Jean felt as if he couldn’t breathe right away. Love? Nonsense. It wasn’t for him. He wasn’t even supposed to be alive! How could someone so gentle and considerate say all those things about him? This had to be some sort of trick or illusion. A dream, even.

Jean’s fingers intertwined with Vincent’s, not letting the painter’s delicate hands leave his face anytime soon.

He was just waiting to wake up from this dream. Waiting patiently. Waiting… and waiting.

It never came.

When he opened his eyes, Vincent was still there, sky blue eyes lovingly locked on him. 

Vincent’s smile was soft. Anything harsher would blind Jean. “We’re vampires, Jean. I think God has bigger things to worry about. Maybe he can let this one slide.”

It was overwhelming to be blanketed in the holy light and Jean’s tears kept falling. This time, with a shy smile on his face.

It happened naturally. The gap between their faces drew shorter and shorter, their bodies fit together perfectly, and Jean’s hands felt comfortable on Vincent’s waist.

It was reserved, at first. Neither had any idea how to navigate a kiss with the other, but it was more natural than Jean had expected. It was… warm. Vincent’s thumb ran his across Jean’s eyepatch. Involuntarily, he drew back. They both used that as a minute to breathe.

Surprisingly, Jean was the one who initiated the second kiss, and this one was much more passionate. Their tongues collided on this one, messily and sloppily. Neither had any clue how to do this, but that was part of the enjoyment. It was slow, sensual, simply taking their time to explore each other. 

It wasn’t perfect, but it didn’t have to be. Jean and Vincent backed away from each other entirely content, their foreheads pressing against the other. A dopey grin enveloped the soldier’s red face. He was certain the blonde could hear just how loudly his heart pumped in his chest.

It was the first time he felt so happy.

The days at the mansion were almost tolerable now. When no one was around, a chaste peck on the cheek or forehead would be shared. Usually Vincent was the one to find Jean alone in the library, but occasionally Jean walked by his room and left a kiss on his cheek. 

Theo and Mozart noticed how they would disappear together first. Soon enough, everyone else caught on. Most of the mansion went to Arthur and Sebastian for answers, but both refused to tell. Sebastian out of not wanting to admit the amount of intel stored in his Oh no– They Didn’t! journal, and Arthur because he thought it’d be more fun for everyone else to figure it out themselves. Being the detective he was, Vincent sighed in relief when he heard he hadn’t told anyone. These feelings, this relationship… It’s all so new and they needed to take it slow. Being outed so soon would only spell disaster, especially in this century. Besides, Jean was already suffering from the judgmental stares from his little brother across the dinner table.

So, for the meantime, tea parties were kept in lonesome meadows and their most intimate moments were behind locked doors.

It was the first time he had a picnic. 

They promised to go to the lily field, when they had the chance. Vincent was captivated the moment he saw a sea of white petals blowing in the wind, glowing under the light of the moon. Jean didn’t interrupt his pause, allowing him to absorb the beauty around him. 

A blanket placed under them, a stiff breeze moving Vincent’s blonde curls in such a way that Jean couldn’t tear his eyes away. His head rested on the painter’s thigh while he sketched the field in front of them, grinning as his mind’s eye was put to paper. 

He looked down at Jean, breathing softly as he admired him. Vincent chuckled as he ran his fingers through his partner’s navy hair. “This is nice,” he whispered, not wanting to interrupt the still of the night.

The moonlight hit Vincent in such a way that he looked as if he descended from heaven, his features chiseled by God himself. “It is,” Jean responded, closing his eyes to properly enjoy the sensation. 

“We’re really lovers, aren’t we?” the blonde vampire asked softly. “It’s hard to imagine it in the mansion, but here… It feels real.” A pause hit Vincent before he continued, a romantic sigh leaving his lips as he took the moment in. “We should go see the sunflowers next.”

Jean’s eyes fluttered open and he watched Vincent attentively. There was a distinct longing in his eyes as he stared over the waves of flowers.

He couldn’t help himself. Jean cupped Vincent’s cheek in his head, bending awkwardly to plant a kiss on his lover’s jaw.

It was the first time he said those three words.

“I love you.”

It was the first time he took his eyepatch off in front of someone.

It had taken a full year for Jean to open up to the idea of taking his eyepatch off in front of Vincent. When they said they were taking it slow, they meant slow. Molasses envied them. They both had a lot of issues within themself, so moving too fast would only cause even more problems. This was far more safe and comfortable, and for them, that mattered more than anything.

It was a planned event. Theodorus wouldn’t be home for a few days on a business trip and Mozart was completely overtaken by a burst of creativity. Melodies filled the air each night, perfect for the inexperienced lovers. The stars had aligned for them to finally have a chance to sleep together and maybe sleep in, if they were lucky. 

Sitting on opposite ends of Jean’s mattress, Vincent observed the empty room around him with slight dismay. The many paintings gifted to his lover were the only decorations on the walls. Otherwise, the place looked like a jail cell. At least Vincent's cell had a nice window and some paint stains on the floor. This was a topic for another day, though. 

Jean sheepishly cleared his throat. A fabric eyepatch sling was laid across his open palm, extending it out for Vincent to take. He feared if he held it any longer that he’d put it right back on. 

Vincent was instantly enamored with Jean’s face. He came to know of Jean’s execution, of how he covered himself so thoroughly to hide the scars that coated him from his feet to his face, but finally being able to see some, the dead skin surrounding his blind eye and the burns that brushed his usually glove-covered hands… He was so beautiful. 

Jean was self-conscious under his gaze, actively forcing his left hand not to cover his eye. Fortunately, Vincent reached out and traced the burnt lines of his face before Jean could. His breath hitched, a short quivering running down his shoulder. “Sorry,” Vincent mumbled, now caressing the side of his face. “I just… I should paint you like this sometime. If you’ll let me.” Briefly, Vincent’s eyes wandered to his torso, before gazing back at the head of his lover. He held his cheek so tenderly.

Jean’s bashfulness melted under the tender gaze of the older Van Gogh. He took his wrist in his hand and planted delicate kisses against his palm. Vincent giggled coyly. Ah, that sound was more beautiful than any hymns the angels could conjure up. “I’ll think about it, monsieur.” He was thankful the attention to his scars ended there, although slight brushes and kisses against his eye were common as they laid next to each other. Any comments on its state would’ve left Jean a mess of regret and self-hatred. Vincent was careful about that, as Jean was with Vincent’s emotional status. It was an equal trade.

The evening was quiet, lulling the two to sleep easily. At first, they had fallen asleep with their hands locked together, not all too close to each other. Vincent knew just how overwhelming physical affection was for Jean, even after a full year in this relationship. Jean was the one who set the pace when it came to touch. He didn’t mind that. 

Apparently, his unconscious state did. Jean awoke in the middle of the night to Vincent’s head tucked against his neck, arms around his waist and his back pressed against the painter’s chest, their fingers still intertwined with each other. His face dug against the pillow under him, hiding the scar from the dark nighttime. 

Sometimes, he could feel the eyes of God staring at him, judging him for every sin he’d committed. When that happened, he’d spend several days in the city church, ultimately failing to build up the courage to enter the confessional. He was sin incarnate, no Father could offer repentance for that. 

The urge to run overcame him. To be so close to another living being was too much… but the scent of paint and sunflowers granted miracles to Jean. His muscles slowly unwound and he found himself falling into the arms of rest once again. The strong arms around him kept him tied to reality and away from the dark thoughts of his wandering mind. 

Every time Jean fell asleep, he dreaded the coming morning. The cycle of a torturous, unwanted, wrongful existence continued. 

But with Vincent here… Things were different. A small flicker grew in his heart. If he could make it to tomorrow, he’d get to see Vincent smile. Oh, and perhaps he’d get to spare with Napoleon, and then play with Cherie… then he could… And then...

Suddenly everything felt worth fighting for, if only for a day.

He had taken his eyepatch off, and the world still turned.

[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

❤️❤️❤️

[cloudcountry]

SUMMARY: a handful of insecurities the ikemen guys would adore.

WARNINGS: none!! :D

COMMENTS: happy holidays everyone!! i hope this makes at least one person feel loved by their fav <3 just know that this isnt a decisive list and that no matter your insecurity your favorite suitor would adore you to bits.

you might think that they're silly for adoring your stomach so much, worshiping any extra fat or polished muscle you possess. they revel in your softness, burying their face into your midsection whenever they get the chance, kissing the skin there when they wake up and resting a hand over your belly button when you two go to sleep. if you’re ticklish there, watch out, because they take great joy in poking and prodding you just to hear you giggle.

arthur, dazai, will, charles, luke, silvio, edgar, kyle, seth, loki, masamune, mitsunari, motonari.

they don't understand what’s so embarrassing about your body hair. to them, it adds a sort of human softness to your legs as they run their hands down your calves, feeling the slight prickle of where each strand begins and ends. they think it’s beautiful, smiling so softly as they cup your knee, rubbing their thumbs across your skin. they do the same to your arms, cherishing every inch of your body,  just to remind you that even if you don’t like your body hair, they do because it's you.

leonardo, vincent, faust, clavis, zero, sirius, fenrir, mitsuhide, shingen.

your nose is often where their kisses land, sprinkling the bridge of it with their love and affection. they caress your face so tenderly as they bump their nose against yours, and you can feel the smile on their lips when they lean in to kiss you again. no matter what shape or what size, they will never stop thinking that your nose suits you just perfectly.

isaac, jean, leon, yves, sariel, keith, jonah, luka, dean, oliver, hideyoshi, keiji.

they think your acne and your scars are beautiful, even if you hate the way they look on your body. they insist it could never take away from your beauty, that you will always and forever be radiant, even with the red marks and the dull, faded scars. they’ll help you take care of them so you aren’t hurt, but they will never let you believe that you’re ugly. that word should not be associated with you, not when you have constellations speckled across your face and scars that are on their precious love and their precious love alone.

napoleon, sebastian, licht, nokto, alter keith, ray, dalim, mousse, yukimura, kanetsugu, kicho.

...and along with acne, they know you could never look prettier, especially not without your cellulite or stretch marks or anything in between. they trace the folds and warps in your skin with reverence because you are their love, their light, and their darling, and for as long as they live they want nothing more than to be able to hold you. because you are a human being who is worthy of love, if not for your humanity then because of your humanity.

mozart, theo, comte, vlad, jin, chevalier, rio, gilbert, lancelot, harr, blanc, nobunaga, ieyasu, ranmaru, kenshin, sasuke, yoshimoto, kennyo.

[natimiles]

Natiii hiii

If your requests are open, is it alright if I request a part 2 of the platonic sibling headcanons for your favourite Ikevamp boys? Where they find out that reader, their precious beloved little sibling, is actually in love with/dating Dazai. I think it would be hilarious xD

Take your time, and remember to put your own health first! ❤

Hi hoooo, Silveeeer! (if you don’t get it, you don’t get it; and it means I’m really old)

Platonic relationships are so cute! Half of them would die if the reader dated anyone, to be honest, HAISUEHSAUIEHSAUIEA. But oooohhh, it was fun to imagine my dearest Isaac! 🤍

I'm sorry it took so long and I hope you liked it! 🤍

gn!reader with a sibling-like relationship with them starts to date Dazai | Isaac, Mozart, Jean, Arthur, Theo and Vincent, and Napoleon

Tags: minor spoilers for Dazai’s route; platonic relationships; sibling-like bond; teeny-tiny suggestive parts for Mozart, Jean, and Theo and Vincent (but still sfw, don’t worry!)

Notes: kind of a part 2 of this post, where gn!reader has a sibling-like relationship with them. 

Isaac

“I’m dating Dazai.” — Do you hate him? He feels like you do now.

He was never overprotective or one to pry into your business, but he felt like he should tell you something about it. You are his dearest younger sibling, after all.

He won’t try to separate you not exactly. He just wants to make sure you’re okay — stop glaring at him!

He will ask for Napoleon’s help to have a talk with Dazai. Napoleon is there just giving moral support because he has nothing against the writer. Isaac is in such distress after this talk, he probably got some gray hair. Dazai teased him, and Napoleon didn’t help.

He will tell you about this and every other time Dazai teased him or pulled some kind of prank on him. Might he remind you it was Dazai who gave him wine and said it was juice at the last banquet?

He can finally have a proper talk with Dazai — without being embarrassed or teased — a few weeks later. He can see now that Dazai really cares for you, and his teasing has lessened (but didn’t stop; it never stops).

Just remember your brother is a contrarian, okay? He’ll complain and grimace when he sees you two kissing, but he’ll help you out if Dazai ever tries to avoid you again. He really hopes you two stay together forever; he wants to see you happy.

Now stop bringing him apples every day with the excuse that you’re taking care of your family, Dazai!

No, Dazai, he doesn’t need someone too! Stop trying to set him up with random people!

Mozart

“Dazai asked me out and I said yes.” — “Pfff, no, you didn’t.”

And it’s not because it’s Dazai. It’s because you’re dating. That’s it.

Overprotective brother activated successfully. Every breath you take, every step you take, he’ll be watching you.

Seriously, he’s watching you two like a hawk. You thought Theo had brother issues? Pff! He won’t leave you alone. Or he’ll try to not leave you alone, but Dazai is too cunning and he always finds a way to evade Mozart and take you with him. Your brother might be fuming by now.

He doesn’t even try to talk with Dazai; he just knows he’s not worthy of you. No one is.

You end up having ‘the talk’ with Mozart. Does he remember when he was having a composer’s block, and Dazai helped? That’s how you start your list of “why Dazai is the safest vampire you could date”. You end the list playfully asking if he’d prefer if you dated any of the other writers, like Arthur, and you swear his eyes twitch with only the thought of it.

He tries to keep his pettiness in check for you. Keyword: try. Spoiler alert: he’s not good at it.

He never sees bite marks on your neck, so he thinks everything is okay and still… decent. He freaks out when Arthur points out that Dazai might be biting you on other parts of your body that don’t show when you’re fully dressed. You want to kill Arthur, while Dazai is just giving that closed-eyes smile of his.

Congrats, overprotective brother is back again at full force.

Jean

“I’m dating Dazai.” — “Alright.”

Chill brother ftw!

Sweet, clueless, and innocent brother doesn’t see anything wrong with your relationship.

He’ll just make sure this is what you want and that you’re really happy. He doesn’t need much assurance. He trusts you, and he knows you never lie to him.

He doesn’t have a problem with Dazai, so why should he be worried? 

However, he will miss spending more time with you in the beginning of your relationship. So Dazai makes sure to include him in your plans sometimes. He might even help you teach Jean how to write and read. (This is too wholesome to imagine)

Jean doesn’t even know what ‘the talk’ is. The roles are reversed: Dazai ends up having it with him, and you’re freaking out. It ends well though; it seems your new boyfriend didn’t say anything weird. This time.

His only problem might be if he sees you two leaving the same room in the morning. He won’t think much of it until Arthur makes some comment about it. And now Jean thinks you two need to get married. Congrats and thank you, Arthur.

Arthur

“Dazai asked me to date him.” — “Oh, hell no!” — “Oh, hell yes!”

Anyone but him! Seriously! If you don’t want any of the other residents, he can introduce you to someone! He has some acquaintances downtown... That’s when you hit his arm and glare at him. Okay, message received.

He won’t have ‘the talk’ with Dazai, he can’t stand the idea of having this conversation with Dazai. 

Again, are you sure you don’t want someone else? If you want a writer, even Shakespeare could be acceptable… You hit him again. Fine! Shakespeare wasn’t acceptable either anyway; he was just desperate.

Dazai doesn’t tease Arthur, so your brother will bring up the times Dazai teased you, like that time you two got stuck downtown because of the rain.

And you bring up the times Dazai helped you, or when he tried to cheer you up. You even list all the times he tried to help him, and Arthur was rude to him.

Touché.

Canonly, he wants to see you breaking Dazai’s masks. So he might accept your relationship just so he can see it and finally be able to read him. Spoiler alert: he still can’t read Dazai, and it drives the sore loser him crazy sometimes.

But you can, so he has to shut his mouth and support you. He’ll be happy for you, eventually.

Theo and Vincent

“I’m dating Dazai.” — “You’ve got the worst taste in men.” — “Oh, congrats! Can we all have lunch together sometime?”

Guess who said what.

Vincent is really happy for you! He already knows Dazai, so he doesn’t need to make sure he is a nice person for you. 

Theo is not happy for the exact same reason: he knows Dazai.

He protects you like he protects Vincent and sometimes even more because you are younger. Did you know Dazai goes to the casino? What else does he do downtown? Do you know? Do you seriously trust him?

You have to throw back at Theo that he goes to the pub with Arthur all the time. What does he do there? Why does he only come back in the morning? … Okay, he got it.

Theo promises that he’ll try to contain his brother issues if you’re too upset with him. He doesn’t promise he’ll succeed. Vincent is gladly there to scold him every time.

Vincent will ask if two can pose together for a new painting, while Theo will glare and curse a lot. It’s a lovely painting that you hang in your bedroom.

They’ll both be mad if you shed a single tear because of the writer. Dazai better run, and he better run fast because an angry Vincent is even worse than an angry Theo.

“Sleeping with Dazai is one step removed from sleeping with Arthur.” (he actually says it in Dazai’s route) WAIT. You haven’t slept together yet, have you? HAVE YOU? Vincent had to drag him out of the dining room because Dazai gave that signature smile of his and said, “Oh my, I can’t remember.”

(Imagine Theo lashing out, and Vincent just goes, “Calm down, they just slept together! What’s wrong with sleeping?”)

Theo will try to find a way to have ‘the talk’ with Dazai without you and Vincent knowing. It’ll turn out surprisingly fine, and he starts to trust Dazai a little more. A little.

Arthur is talking about the bite marks not being visible when you’re fully dressed again, just so he can see his best friend losing his mind. Vincent doesn’t understand what’s the problem; he thinks it’s in your arms or some innocent place. God bless this angel.

Theo is back at glaring and cursing.

Napoleon

“Dazai asked me out.” — “Alright, have fun.”

Chill brother ftw! #2 

He knows Dazai and he has nothing against him.

He trusts you and your decisions, so he won’t pry or be an overprotective brother mode.

He taught you self-defense and he knows you’ll come to him if you need something anyway.

He will talk to Dazai, but it won’t be exactly ‘the talk’. He just wants to make sure he’s not just killing time with you, even though that’s not something he believes the writer would do… But he’s gotta make sure. It was nice, like friends chatting to catch up on their lives, y’know?

If Dazai runs away from you like he does on his route before you start dating, he will not be pleased. But he will try to help you out, if you ask.

If a single tear is seen in your eyes, you bet he throws the chill-brother-state-of-mind out of the highest window of the mansion along with Dazai.

Seriously, he won’t freak out about your relationship, and he won’t do anything unless you ask him to. He really just wants you to be happy.

He’ll try to read Dazai’s books. Gotta support family.

(Can we imagine him ruffling your hair and then ruffling Dazai’s hair? Okay, sorry…)

Masterlists

[fang-and-feather]

Ikemen Vampire - Jean d'Arc x Vincent van Gogh x Reader

Words: 1,132

Summary: Jean can't help but still question his feelings for these two little lights that kept coming back to illuminate his life, but he also can't help but be drawn to them

Notes: this first chapter is a little angstier than my usual due to Jean's internal conflict. I don't know what possessed me while writing this one or to even have the idea to start this in this way...

Written for Polyam Shipping Day Prompt: Conflict from @polyamships

The Jean/Vincent pairing was inspired by @koco-coko (although I vaguely remember reading something with them on AO3, back before I was even a writer for this fandom) and I've been meaning to write it for a while, hope you don't mind me going along with the idea and that I went along with a xReader triad (is it a surprise to anyone at this point?)

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist / AO3 Link

Jean had never been in love; he wasn’t sure what it felt like. But if he had to guess, that was exactly what he was feeling. He could give no other name to this.

Except that this couldn’t be love. Love was supposed to be such a pure feeling. This? This was temptation. Sin.

First sin was to fall in love with someone else’s woman.

You had been forced back through an incident; he didn’t expect you to return to what you had before, as if you had never left, but you did. What changed was for him when, by a twist of fate, Jean found himself spending a lot of time with you as you tried to teach him to write.

Vincent didn’t seem to mind so much. Although it wasn’t unusual for him to bring his sketchbook, sit at a distance and stay around until you were done. Jean felt a little guilty for taking so much of your time, but both of you were very reassuring whenever he voiced said guilt.

Then he found out what Vincent was so intently sketching. Most of his drawings were of you, but there were some of Jean himself.

Second sin was to fall in love with another man.

Vincent had already asked to paint Jean before, a little after Jean arrived at the mansion. He’d been a little insistent, until Theo got angry at Jean for continuously refusing his brother.

After the sketches, Vincent asked again, with you supporting him. And Jean couldn’t deny the two of you. Although you would say he didn’t need to, he thought it was a way he could repay you for all you were doing for him.

And that led to more time spent with both of you. And all the time spent with either of you was conflicting for Jean. You kept telling him how beautiful he was, or kind, or that he deserved forgiveness, deserved to live, and sometimes Jean caught himself wanting to believe.

Then he would realize his feelings once more, and how could he?

But was it still wrong when he wasn’t exclusively interested in him? When they would share a woman?

Probably.

Third sin was probably to fall in love with two people at the same time.

In fact, he wasn’t even sure if that was a sin, but it had to be wrong somehow. There was no way it was normal, and he would have judged it impossible had it not happened to him.

Was it so wrong, though? How could love be wrong?

Was it even love? How could a monster like him love someone?

He tried to run away then. From these questions. From your light and all its - in his mind, false - hope. He tried. But he was attracted to your light like a moth, and you reached back for him.

How could loving you be a sin, when you were so close to angels? That was how anyone would describe Vincent. And although that wasn’t attributed to you in words, they all loved you, and you were a light in everyone’s lives, helping each one of them heal from their own darkness.

But he was the one both of you chose to give your love to.

So, how could it be wrong? Would you make that choice even if it was wrong?

“Love is not a choice. Neither is it right nor wrong.” You spoke up, and Jean realized he’d asked it aloud.

“Is it another difference from your time?”

“My time is more accepting, but I won’t say it’s considered right. And maybe they’re right. Maybe it is wrong. But, as I said, it’s not a choice. Neither is it enough to condemn us.”

“I was conflicted too, when I started noticing these feelings. We’re not trying to say your views are wrong.” Vincent added. “We will understand if you don’t want to do this. But love is love, and our love is true. Never doubt that.”

Jean looked away from the two of you, with your bright, hopeful eyes and your all encompassing light, which was always too bright for him, but he couldn’t escape this time.

His gaze landed, unfortunately - or maybe fortunately, he would find out - on the painting Vincent had just presented him. The picture Jean thought looked nothing like him. Too bright. Too happy.

But Vincent said that was how he saw Jean, and doubting that would be doubting everything Vincent lived for. Because that was how Vincent painted; with that light he saw in everything.

“How do you know?”

“Because it is the same love we have for each other. I wasn’t sure it was possible, but this is the truth, and it will never change. But we’ll pretend this didn’t happen if you want to.”

“We just want to see you happy.” Vincent took one of his hands; his grip light enough for Jean to pull away if he wanted to.  “But we had to let you know. To see our side of the story.”He motioned at the painting with his other hand. “And I wanted you to see the you that we see. Beautiful, body and soul.”

This time you reached out, hand resting on his cheek, thumb wiping away a tear.

“And even if you step away now, we’ll still be your friends.” Your hand aliped down slowly, coming to rest on his chest. “We’ll protect your heart. Your light. For as long as you live. Because we’ll always love you, at the distance you deem appropriate.”

You always said such hopeful things to him, which made him feel happier every time. But now, his heart felt so full, almost overflowing with love for you.

A part of him still wanted to run and hide from all your light. All the hope. All the love he didn’t deserve, and that he wasn’t so sure it was right. Instead, he wrapped an arm around your waist, his hold on Vincent’s hand tightened, and he pulled both of you to him, then hugged you.

Maybe he was a fool for it, but he wanted to accept your love and tell you how he felt. He wanted to hope for the future by your side.

He couldn’t formulate the words right now. Maybe it would take some time before he could. But here, with you, he believed both of you had been sent into his life to give him a second chance.

Could he believe that? Could he dare hope for tomorrow? Would he really be forgiven?

Maybe he would always be conflicted like that, but you would always be there for him to reach out to whenever he had doubts. Whenever the darkness wanted to consume him again. The two people he loved more than anything.

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