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violettduchess · 2 months

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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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yanderepuck · 1 month

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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

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp drake #catboy cafe au

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dear-mrs-otome · 2 months

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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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vioisgoinginsane · 4 months

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@jade-s-nymph ikevamp chocolate guy AU

Leonardo goes on an ADHD mess hyper fixation making shit like this for like a week straight

Comte is somewhere between "not again" and "at least he has inspiration again?"

Jean watches in awe and wonders if he can by-pass his cooking curse by trying to make a sword out of chocolate (since he got a smithshop and all yknow)

Sebastian is in awe, full on fanboying.

Vincent is likewise fascinated and wants to try it too. Theo was likewise worried if vincent's cooking curse will strike again, but since vincent is a painter not sculptor he ends up painting with chocolate and it looks actually good. Theo eats lefovers trying to control himself since his sweet tooth is acting up but he can't actually bring himself to eat vincent's art

Arthur is having a blast and he's probably putting this in his next novel

Isaac is... Perplexed. Dazai dragged him there, but he can't bring himself to look away now.

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp leonardo the chocolate guy AU #ikevamp headcanons

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revasserium · 10 months

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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

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faust-bite-archive · 2 months

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So like Comte

Doctor Who AU hes the doctor

Instead of a phonebooth it’s the door/mansion. After all the mansion looks more historically accurate yes but it’s not big enough to fit all the rooms required in it. And with the door he is messing with wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff.

Comte is the Doctor confirmed.

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikemen games #ikevamp au #ikevamp comte

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alby-rei · 1 month

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Comte's Ghost Mansion (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 ✨

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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fang-and-feather · 5 months

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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

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp isaac #reincarnation au #ikevamp #fanfiction #ikevamp fanfic

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usuallyangrypanda · 1 year

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Leonardo, Dazai and Isaac after impulsively restarting it lmao, for @yanderepuck‘s catboy café au. Of these three I’ve only drawn Isaac and Leo before and I gotta say, Dazai’s hair was very satisfying to do :3

#Ikemen Vampire #catboy cafe au #ikemen vampire leonardo #ikemen vampire dazai #ikemen vampire isaac #ikemen vampire fanart

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ana-thedaydreamer · 3 months

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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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violettduchess · 6 months

Note

Yay! I'm excited for this idea of yours!! Could I ask for Silvio + Vampire/Detective (either works!) + Fluff? I felt like Pirate was too obvious 😂😌

A/N: We talked about this and the request changed a wee bit. So here is your Silvio, a vampire MC and something spicy! I hope you enjoy it my sweet @xbalayage 💜

Silvio x female vampire Reader

WC: 2.7 k

It is a night of gleaming silver stars and a sharp sliver of moon. The ancient manor, hidden within the protective shadows of the forest, stands regal, with its seven gables and heavy velvet curtains. Inside, its occupants yawn, rising to greet the darkness, readying themselves for an evening of meetings, treaties and hopefully, revelry.

You’re in the banquet room, watching the others eat merely for the pleasure of it. None of them actually needs food. Mortal cuisine is appealing every now and then but it’s been so long since you were human, you hardly ever feel the need to indulge in such nostalgia.

Although…..maybe indulging would be better than….this. Lifting the crystal goblet to your lips, you tell yourself it won’t be that bad. Just give it a chance. This time the blood substitute given to all the vampires attending the gathering could actually taste good. You tilt it upwards and the cool, thickly-clotted, crimson liquid creeps down the glass in fits and stops, crossing the line of your red lips and coating your tongue.

Your body heaves and your throat closes in a gag. A full body shudder runs through your limbs from the top of your head to the tips of your toes in their black boots.

Ugh, enough of this.

The goblet is set down in one violent motion, clanging as it hits the polished onyx of the banquet table. Ignoring the curious gazes of other clan members, you push your chair away and flounce from the extravagant dining room in a flash of dark satin and black leather.

“Still revolting,” you mutter to yourself as you storm through the manor, down hallways lined with oversized, dour portraits of vampire nobility, lush carpeting absorbing the fall of your heels. In a cloud of indignation you fume all the way back to your guest suite where you throw open the ornate wooden door……

…..to find Silvio lounging on your bed, sipping a glass of the vile liquid you just rejected while thumbing through your black, leather-bound notebook.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

He glances up, not one ounce of shame on his extraordinarily handsome face.

“You told me I should read your notes on all the other clan members. So I’m readin’ ‘em.”

“Oh for fucks sake, I didn’t mean break into my room and take over my bed.”

You’ve known Silvio Ricci for so long. A century ago, you worked together to broker a trade deal/ peace agreement between the Benitoite vampire clans and those of your native Rhodolite. Its massive success ensured that you have been working together ever since.

He sits up, stretching out his long body, his impossibly blue eyes still scanning your notebook.

“You got the better room. And you keep annoyin’ me about learnin’ more about these Jadean vamp clans so-” He stops talking when he notices you lifting your velvet travel cloak from the armchair it had been draped over.

“What do you think you’re doin’? “

The dark cloak falls over your shoulders, settling with a soft, satisfying whoosh around you. Turning, you view your reflection in the mirrored front of the wardrobe, smoothing down the front of your elegant, sable blouse.

“I’m going out for a real drink.” A pat to your hair and then you spin on your heel, already feeling that prickling thrill that rushes through you at the beginning of any hunt.

But when you face the door to the bedroom, Silvio is there, blocking your exit. He must have shadow-jumped, moving in seconds from one place to another, using the shadows of the bedroom as conduits. Your notebook is facedown on the brocade carpet, abandoned.

“You’re not goin’ out there.”

Despite the height of your boots, you’re still forced to tip your head up in order to meet his gaze. You forget how tall he is sometimes. His moonlight hair falls forward, the tips brushing the tops of his slanted cheekbones, a celestial curtain behind which his ocean eyes burn bright.

Your brow arches in question as you force yourself to look into all that endless blue.

“The hell I’m not. Silvio. Move.”

“No fuckin’ way.” His jaw tightens, the words spit out through clenched teeth.

No, don’t throttle him yet. You draw a patient breath. “Why not?”

He rolls his eyes with a huff that tells you how very idiotic he finds that question and your fingers curl inwards, red nails pressing into the palms of your hands. Maybe time to throttle him?

“You know the woods outside this place are crawlin’ with Slayers, just lookin’ for a prize.”

A soft hiss escapes you. Fucking Vampire Slayers. They know the clans meet once a year and somehow they always find out exactly where that is. It makes arrivals and departures especially challenging and not every vampire survives it.

But you are not every vampire.

You fasten your cloak with one hand, the large rose-shaped ruby of your signet ring twinkling in the wan candlelight. “I’m a big girl, Silvio. I can handle myself.”

He growls as he shakes his head. “Stop being so fuckin’ stupid. Just drink the substitute for a few days and feed once we’re outta here.”

What is going on? Why does it even matter to him whether or not you take the risk of going out into the night?

"Silvio…..what the fuck? So I want to find some real blood. So it may be a bit dangerous. Who cares?!" Your voice is sharp with frustration, bright with an annoyance ready to ignite into anger.

"I do!! I fucking care!"

Silvio's words are torn from his throat by raw emotion, swift and fierce. Something in his eyes flashes, the piercing shine of a lighthouse beacon skimming the unknown darkness of the sea. His cheeks are uncharacteristically flushed, as if he’s embarrassed himself with his own outburst.

You’re stunned into silence. You can hardly breathe. All you feel right now is the atomic fallout of a heart suddenly blown to pieces by the most unexpected, shocking wave of desire. The world as you know it, have known it for ages, tilts, breaks into a million tiny pieces as you move towards him. Your hand slides over the rich silk of his shirt where you feel his heartbeat thunder against your palm. This is Silvio Ricci. He’s the most aggravating man you have ever known. Arrogant. Commanding. Excessive.

Your hand slides up, gripping the nape of his neck, your gaze never leaving his.

So many hours of correspondence. So many days over so many decades in each other’s company. And while you always had to admit that he was attractive, never had you felt the need to know what his mouth feels like under yours, to find out what sounds he makes when he surrenders to you, to hear the rasp of exhausted desire in his voice as it stutters your name.

And yet…..here, on a night when you expected to be battling enemies for a drink of fresh blood, here you are, your blood practically singing in your veins as you stare into his eyes, now dark as the sea in winter.

“Silvio…..” His name slips from your lips, unbidden, a whisper rounded by yearning.

It is oil to the smoldering heat in his veins. His strong hands reach for you, pull you against him as he dips his head to capture your mouth with his. You gasp at the feel of the strong lines of his body, how well they fit against yours. And you gasp at the feel of his lips, his tongue. Hesitation dies, burned to ash by lust. His fingers press into you, greedy, almost needy. His mouth is demanding, hardly giving you a moment to adjust before he moves, head tilting from one side to another, tongue demanding access over and over. He kisses you as if he is drowning man and you are oxygen, as if you are the lifeblood essential to all vampires. You feel the sharp scrape of his teeth against your lips, the way his skin grows warmer under the hand that still grips his neck.

With a throaty growl, you jerk out of his arms, stepping back. He hisses, taking a step toward you. He can’t drink in the sight of you fast enough. Your electric gaze, your lips, red and kiss-swollen, the graceful movement of your hand as you unhook your cloak in a single motion. It falls to the carpet soundlessly.

And then, with vampiric speed, you are back in his arms and he’s lifting you, carrying you to the bed he had been lazily lounging on not that long ago. He lays you down on your back, one hand reaching down to brush away several locks of hair that have fallen across your neck and shoulders. His gaze follows his own fingers as they brush over your skin as if entranced by the sight, as if he can’t believe that he’s actually touching you. When you reach up and take his hand, he blinks, his cheeks flushing as if he’s been caught doing something too private, too intimate. He lowers his body, burying his heated face in the curve where neck meets your shoulder. Your fingers slide through his moon-spun hair and the aesthetic of your sharp, crimson nails dragging through all that silver pleases you deeply.

“I knew it,” he murmurs, his nimble fingers somehow already nearly finished undoing the front lacing of your blouse. “I knew you wanted me.” His tongue traces each new expanse of skin as it is revealed. But the blouse only opens so far. He curses the innocent piece of clothing, impatiently grabbing the hem and pulls it over your head.

“You are such an idiot,” you gasp, fingers curling inward of their own accord as he leaves a string of heated kisses down your abdomen, his eager fingers already skimming over the waistband of your leather pants.

He lifts his head, pushing himself up with one hand, his eyes as bright as twin stars. His fingers pause and it is torture.

“There’s no shame in it, ya know. Lots of people want me. You probably wanted me for centuries, huh.”

Oh this jerk, this ridiculous, infuriating, beautiful vampire jerk.

You tilt your head, your hands roaming over the luxurious material of his sleeves. A corner of your mind pulsing with want wonders if he would mind you tearing it to shreds. Ah but he needs to be taught a lesson for such arrogant talk. Using your supernatural strength and speed, you roll, easily flipping him onto his back, pinning him down with one hand even as you straddle him invitingly.

“You’re the one who wouldn’t let me leave. Who told me….what was it? How much you care. And then started kissing me like the world is ending.” You run your thumb over his lips, slowly enough to feel the way they tremble.

His breath hitches in his throat and you watch, fascinated and oddly turned on by how red his cheeks suddenly glow. Who knew he blushed so easily? He looks away, brow scrunched in irritation even as his hands slide over the curve of your hips, over the leather that is molded to your form, holding you firmly in place against him.

“The fuck you talkin’ about…,” he mutters before reaching up for you, pulling you back down towards him. “Shuddup and let's get back to how much you want me.”

You pause, your lips scant centimeters away from his. “I believe the evidence of how much you want me is much…..clearer.” You roll your hips against his, demonstratively and there is no denying the hard truth of your words.

He groans, shaking his head and the world tilts again as he flips your positions, covering you with the lean, muscular length of his body. The bed groans at all this gymnastics.

Your pants join your discarded blouse and travel cloak in a forlorn heap on the floor. How he managed that between kisses that leave you dizzy and aching and fighting for air is a mystery for the ages.

You’ve managed to wrangle him out of most of his clothing, without tearing anything, when suddenly you grow still, your eyes closing as a wave of true, overwhelming dizziness crashes over you. Silvio feels the way your body stiffens and freezes, his hand growing still on the inside of your thigh. He raises his disheveled head from the line of red marks he was leaving along your lower stomach.

“You ok?”

You blink, trying to clear the sloshing in your head.

“I….I think I’m just hungry.” You try to smile, to lighten the violent shift in mood. “I was trying to go get something to eat when you so….expertly distracted me.”

He scrambles into a sitting position and then carefully, almost tenderly, reaches down to help you sit up as well, propping you up against the pillows.

“Don’t tell me you haven’t had a drink since we got here?” The paleness of your face, the way you’re holding yourself is answer enough. “The fuck?? We’ve been here a week! You ain’t really that stupid, are ya?”

You wince at his justified admonishment and he sighs heavily. He reaches down, grabbing a handful of his own billowy white shirt from off the floor and pulls it over your head, covering the body he had so eagerly uncovered just moments ago. The sight of you in his shirt has him swallowing, a tangle of complicated emotions tumbling through him.

Standing, he crosses the room in nothing but his silken braies, heading for the table next to the dresser and even through your light-headedness you can’t help but admire the lean cut of his body. He reaches for the crystal decanter, the one filled every evening for all attendees with fresh blood substitute, the one you have ignored for days despite how often they refresh it. The liquid flows from the lip of the decanter into the intricate glass that has lived untouched on that same table and with a determined set to his jaw, he strolls back to you, lowering himself to the edge of the bed. He shoves the glass in your direction, his expression a scowl draped in the embarrassment of caring.

“I know you can’t stand this shit but you ain’t gonna be able to handle all the things I’m wanna do to you unless you got some strength in ya. So stop actin’ like a stubborn jackass and-”

You yank the glass from his hand and, your gaze never leaving his, knock down the contents in one long swallow. You almost manage to hide your revulsion.

Silvio takes the glass from you, his fingers brushing yours, softly, like small flames licking at your skin. He grins slowly and any lingering feeling of disgust is incinerated by the sudden desire that flares through your body.

“Ya want me that bad, huh?”

The blood substitute has renewed you, has sparks exploding like tiny supernovas through the pathways of your veins. You feel reborn, a phoenix bursting from the ashes in a fiery explosion of wings and want. You move faster than a human eye could see, too fast for his own enhanced vision. One moment he’s grinning at you, licking his lips like a cat that’s caught the canary and the next he’s pinned beneath you again, looking up into a face bright with eagerness, eyes glowing with satisfaction.

And when your fangs slowly protract, it’s all he can do to stop himself from taking you then and there.

“The lady is still hungry,” he rasps as your hands slide over his chest, your strong fingers curling around the hard muscles of his shoulders, sharp red nails biting pleasurably into his skin.

You lower yourself down, tracing the shape of his ear with your tongue, fangs scraping the delicate skin. Beneath your body, you feel the tremor of lust that rolls through him and you smile, the apex predator clutching its prey within possessive talons as you whisper in a voice raw with yearning, “The lady is absolutely…..famished.”

Tagging: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage @redheadkittys @tele86 @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @rhodoliteschaos @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @portrait-ninja @ikesimpleton @ikemenlibrary @mastering-procrastinating @namine-somebodies-nobody @queen-dahlia @nightghoul381 @bubblexly @ozalysss

#ikemen series #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri silvio #silvio ricci #ikemen silvio #vampire au #ikepri halloween costume challenge #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen fanfic #otome fanfiction #violettwrites

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yanderepuck · 1 month

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Catboy Cafe AU - Drake

Make sure you read the following chapter before this one

Chapter 1

Your cafe has been open for a little over a year and you were looking for just a bit more staff now that some of the guys are in school after the summer break.

You wanted someone who was willing to do a bit of everything when it was needed. That's when Drake came in. Tall, muscular, and British. He's definitely going to be popular.

You have to admit that you thought he looked unkempt at first, but it turns out there are breeds of cats with curly hair. His hair and fur is white, with the very tips having some grey. He seemed friendly enough so he started the following week.

You had him start with cleaning tables and sweeping floors. What you didn't realize is that he picked up on serving customers just from watching the others. And then you heard him...

"Let's make a deal. I'll make you breakfast if you make me dinner."

"I think there is something wrong with my phone, your number isn't in it."

"Have we met before? You look a lot like the love of my life."

Oh no. Not another.

"Why is it always the Brits. Theo, please keep an eye on him."

"I'll go refill my spray bottle," Theo groans.

At this point Drake was the only one not wearing a collar, but he also wasn't officially working as a server. He just happened to flirt with every woman as he picked up dishes.

"You must be exhausted, little fawn."

"Oh I'm fine. It's just the end of the month and I-"

"You've been running through my head all day," you can hear him purr slightly.

"Drake!"

None of these catboys know how to talk to their boss properly.

"I doubt you'll get a break soon," he smirks and winks at you before walking away. "Hey! Stop that!" Theo sprayed him with his bottle.

He also tells so many stories. But you can't tell if it is like Dazai where they are all made up or not. His stories get a little too detailed.

"Your tail is a disaster!"

You peak out of your office into the break room to see Will and Mozart trying to brush Drake's tail.

"You need to be more presentable then this."

"It's curly! I lived by the sea since I was young, I can't help it."

"Explains why your fur is so dry," Mozart runs a brush through his tail. "See! Knots!"

And that's how his tail ended up puffed out for his whole shift. Even his ears got some brushing. The guys in the kitchen couldn't help but laugh a little at his state.

"If working the floor means I have to brush my fur I'm not doing it," he keeps trying to smooth down his tail.

Eventually to start to piece things too and learn that Drake used to live in a fishing town and helped on boats. He came to the city to experience something new and ended up loving it, but other than working at the cafe he isn't sure what he wants to do yet.

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp drake #catboy cafe au

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 1 year

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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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