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#ikevamp will x reader
natimiles · 21 days
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Lazy morning with Shakespeare
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Words: 381
Tags: scenario; morning cuddles; fluffy; no pronouns specified; established relationship.
Notes: thanks @koco-coko for being the sweetest sweetie and for 1. making me love Will now, and 2. helping me with how this stupid writer speaks.
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When you wake up, you feel around the mattress to find your lover, but he has already left. With a new play about to premiere, Will had rehearsals starting early and going until late night.
Sighing, you pout to yourself. Was it too selfish to want him to stay with you? To spend a few minutes basking in love, enjoying each other’s warmth?
“Thy lips wear the most enchanting pout, my love,” you hear his voice, and you look toward the door, seeing him enter the room.
“Will!” You smile.
“Did thou miss me that greatly?” He smiles teasingly as he makes his way back to the bed to lie down with you.
“I always do,” you answer. 
He settles down beside you, not wasting time in embracing you and bringing you close to him.
“Mm, me too,” he whispers and kisses you softly.
“Wait, what about your rehearsal?” you ask, suddenly remembering the reason he wasn’t with you until seconds ago.
“T’was postponed on account of the rain,” he says, as if it’s an obvious answer. And it is; now that you pay attention, you actually listen to the soft tap of rain outside.
“Then we can enjoy a little more time here?” you half ask, half demand.
“Aye. The sun has yet to rise, we may grant ourselves a moment’s indulgence,” he chuckles. Your whole face brightens up with his reply, and he wishes to keep it engraved in his mind forever. “Come near, my love.”
One of his hands finds your hair, twirling it around his fingers in a lazy play. The other hand slides down your back, pulling you even closer and keeping you in place. You can’t hold back the little giggle that escapes you, your wish from earlier coming true and making you the happiest.
Your hand also goes to his soft hair, and in no time, you’re sleeping again. Will stays up a little longer, lovingly staring at every little detail of your face until he feels his eyelids grow heavy.
Later, when you wake up to start your day, you find yourself locked in a tight embrace, incapable of leaving Will’s warmth. And your lazy morning turns into a lazy day, the soothing sound of rain serving as a background to your relaxation.
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Taglist: @bicayaya @silverbladexyz @koco-coko @yamarireads @judejazza @echoes-in-the-forest @chandeliermichel @fang-and-feather @sh0jun
Masterlists
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niphredil-14 · 1 year
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Hi there! Just found your blog and holy moly I love it. Could I request a fic with the ikevamp boys (Mozart, Comte, Leonardo, Will, Theo, and Vincent) with an MC who has a super dominating/confident (but not in a cocky way) personality? Thanks, love!!
IKEVAMP REQUESTS NOW CLOSED, DC REQUESTS ARE OPEN
Comte: It is well known that Comte has canonically said that he loves the idea of a woman who would step on him. He has the hots for them 100%! Though he knows that they are very much capable of doing things themself, he will still insist on pampering them in so many ways, but he will occasionally let some pampering come his way if they really want to. In the bedroom, I get switch vives from him. He loves to dom and take care of his partner, but he also enjoys them taking control and demanding things from him. He wants to be wanted.
Leonardo: I love the idea of him with somebody confident! He is definitely a very confident man in many aspects, but his power is a quiet, lazy type. It's there but is subtle, so I love imagining him with someone who has more of an outward confidence, the contrast is just *chefs kiss*. A lazy man, he will probably let you take control in the bedroom as well if that's what they want, but he def has some dom in him, and may just wanna power bottom every now and again.
Will: Will, I believe, isn't half as confident as he lets on. I find him to be deeply insecure. He loves their confidence, he is drawn to it like a moth to a flame, hoping that if he interacts with them long enough, that some of it will rub off on him. And I think with time, to some degree, it will! He is a total bottom you cant change my mind, tie him up. do it.
Theo: If game Theo is anything like IRL Theo, then he is a total sucker for strong women. His wife was a huge influence, turned him down several times before agreeing to marry him, and after his death, made sure that his and vincent's hard work wasnt for nothing, making vincent famous! This man loves confidence! His MC is one of the feistiest! Absolutely whipped for a confident and dominant lover. Though I think he would prefer to dom in the bedroom, he would probably be willing to negotiate.
I have no idea what to write for vince sorry.
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cloudcountry · 10 months
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SUMMARY: you leave a lipstick mark on him, how scandalous!!!
CHARACTERS: mozart, arthur, vincent, & isaac.
WARNINGS: None!! :D
COMMENTS: i wanted to practice writing these guys more!!
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mozart doesn’t realize your lipstick has transferred at first, but he knows your giggling never means anything good. his inquisitive “what?” comes out snappier than he intends it to be, but when your eyes dart to the spot you kissed he connects the dots. rolling his eyes, he takes out his handkerchief and attempts to wipe your kiss away. although it's funny to watch him struggle to get the kiss mark off of his face, you eventually step in to help. (and by that, of course i mean you kissed him stupid.)
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arthur knows what you’re up to immediately. it’s almost like he has a special sense for your mischief. he lets you pull him in by his lapels and fails to hide his disappointment when you plant a smooch on his cheek instead of his lips. he pouts, pointing to his lips with a pleading gaze. you make a big show of sighing before you smirk, pulling him again and showering his face in kisses. no, he doesn’t wipe a single mark off. yes, he parades around the mansion like that the whole day. yes, he’s grumpy at night when he has to wash them off. oh well, you can always give him more later, can’t you?
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vincent blushes when your lips brush against his skin. he touches where you kissed and smiles softly, eyes shifting to you. you’re as beautiful a sight as always, and your smile could not look more radiant. “sunflower...what was that for?” he murmurs, running the back of his hand tenderly along your cheek. you whisper that it wasn’t for anything in particular, he just looks so darling and handsome that you couldn’t resist. his cheeks turn pinker and he hides his laughter behind his hand. oh, you charmer! his face may as well be your canvas, no?
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isaac jumps up in his chair, startled by your surprise attack. he reminds you hastily that he’s working, but not without stumbling over his words like a fool in love. you can snicker at the mark on his cheek, but isaac assumes you’re just laughing at “how adorable he looks when flustered” again. it's quite mean of you, you know this, but you’d never be so mean as you let him walk around with your lipstick mark on his cheek. you know arthur would tease him relentlessly. “wanted to leave you a little gift.” you say, poking the mark on his burning cheek, “i hope it motivates you, darling.”
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nuttytani · 3 months
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random comte headcanons
he likes it when you're the one who initiates physical affection like hugs, hand holding and kisses. it makes him melt like icecream on a hot day, it turns him into a giddy teenager experiencing love all over again.
he won't ever admit it but comte enjoys it when you play with his hair. lightly scratching his scalp with your dull nails and massaging the area behind his ears, it makes him sleepy.
comte thinks that your eyes are the most captivating thing about you, they show so many emotions! and your eyelashes, the way they frame your eyes so perfectly- which is why you'll always find him giving your eyelids a peck every now and then.
whenever he sees you wear his gifts, he feels joy. because that means you liked it enough. sure, comte might love showering you with gifts, that's just a habit he has acquired over the years and it's his way of showing love. but nothing tops when you actually put his gifts to use.
comte is the type of person who will always have cookies and biscuits on the side while he drinks tea.
he wears glasses while reading newspaper, even though he has perfect vision. comte just wants to feel a bit human, besides, you always compliment him when he wears those glasses.
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gunraekae · 6 months
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a day in the mansion for you
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>ikemen vampire
>mansion residents x reader
>a/n: for context, i'm the sort who enjoys seeing the casual interactions between the residents and the mc, so these are some hcs on what I imagine a day looks like for you. i sorta placed this as being in the first week mc arrives, before anything too serious happens, but you can interpret this whichever way you choose!
also apologies, i wasn't able to write for every single suitor as i haven't played most of their routes yet! I'll do a follow-up post when i finally finish them :))
Napoleon
Restrains Jean when he attacks you in the middle of the night
Comte enlists him to guard you and show you around Paris with Vincent, being the one that you trust the most in the beginning
Accompanies you and Isaac to the école, to help you be more at ease in the town
Part of your morning rounds: you wake him up
Part of your evening rounds: you talk about each other’s days, has dinner with you if you haven’t
Arthur
After asking Sebastian to fetch him Rouge, he prevents you from escaping (sorta does a reverse psychology thing)
Rightfully blaming himself for your dislike, he charms you with his intelligence through the lounge games; he wins a conversation with you and apologises on your date
When you encounter him on your town visit, the two of you are caught with a mysterious case that employs the two of you in your mystery solving adventures. 
Part of coffee addicts: your best customer, kisses you for every cup of coffee you bless him with
Part of breakfast gang: either there because he didn’t sleep or there because he slept too early
Leonardo
Spooked by the first night in the mansion, you lock yourself in your room until lunch, only to realize that Leonardo had stood guard outside your door the whole night
Remains quite protective, he calls himself your companion; finds you cooped up in the library and takes you with him on town visits
Part of coffee addicts: will come later, but will always be there
Part of your afternoon rounds: he magically finds you when you’re sad and will find some random event to cheer you up with
Jean
Starving and not in control, he unknowingly attacks you on your first night and incites you to escape
Overwhelmed, self-conscious, and wary, you spend much of the first week’s evenings in the library. To your shock, Jean is also there, learning how to write. Believing that it may be best for the two of you to reconcile, you teach him how to write. 
Helps you as much as possible with your chores, especially if it’s reaching high places or something that requires strength. 
Joins the residents in meals because of you
Listens to Mozart’s pieces with you
Part of your morning rounds: you have to remind him to eat
Vincent
Sympathetic to your predicament, he comforts you and shows you around Paris with Napoleon, being one of the few that you feel safe around
Invites you to a picnic with Theo
Enjoys your singing in the gardens while he paints and will frequent the outside the more you do it
Part of coffee addicts: might experiment with different roasts and enjoys it, but will like his coffee as black as possible
Part of breakfast gang: really only there to join Theo in the morning
Comte
Like a good sugar daddy, he takes you shopping and constantly spoils you. On the second day, he takes you to the town
Will ask for tea on the daily and constantly checks in on you; a most protective father figure, he keeps the residents in check
You’re his automatic partner any time he has to attend a social event (and of course he takes you shopping before). You’re his rumoured partner, and Comte does not quell those rumours he keeps them up. 
Part of your afternoon rounds: you have tea with him
Dazai
After cooping yourself up in your room, Dazai is the second you confide your troubles to. He’s always attuned to your emotions and understands your mental health struggles; always ready to lend an ear (because he’d rather everyone be happy before himself ahh) He’s almost invasive with how aware he is of you
Another frequent player in the lounge games, he doesn’t play seriously and is only really there to bring everyone’s mood up; don’t include gambling though, because he gets sorta crazy
Part of breakfast gang: horrible sleep schedule has him join the morning
Part of your afternoon rounds: any time you have errands in the garden, he’ll join you 
Theo
Partly due to his brother, and partly out of his own heart, he enlists you as an apprentice and they get to know the town
To bridge the gap between you and Arthur, he invites you to the lounge after dinner to play games
Teaches you the ropes of living in Paris: warns you, keeps you aware of current events, probably even helps you with your finances
Part of coffee addicts: likes your experimental sweet lattes
Part of breakfast gang: always present in the morning because he has to
Isaac
Cooped up in his room as well, Sebastian asks you to deliver his food to his room, believing him the most harmless. Isaac awkwardly welcomes you in his own way, accompanying you and Napoleon to their école
Also a frequenter of the lounge games, he attempts to impress you and win a date against Arthur
Part of breakfast gang: has to be there for his job, but enjoys whatever you make
Part of your evening rounds: sometimes he’ll be outside with his telescope, observing the stars. Once you felt comfortable, he asked you to join him
Mozart
Most intimidated by him, Sebastian forces you to deliver lunch to him. He’s cold, fussy, but would rather spend time with you than anyone else. Whenever he needs feedback or an audience for a piece, he’ll ask you first along with Jean. 
You’re his automatic partner any time he has a performance, partly because you comfort him in carriage rides, partly because he just wants you around
Part of coffee addicts: crawls to get coffee from you
Part of your evening rounds: you have to remind him to sleep
Part of your breakfast gang: organized routine but also terrible sleep schedule
Shakespeare
You met him after he gave you and Vincent tickets for one of his upcoming plays. When he approached the two of you, he gave such good banter and was so amicable, you swear it almost sounded practiced (haha)
He’ll sometimes join the residents for dinner. He’s begun to join a lot more often because having you around made Arthur and Theo much less hostile. After dinner, he makes a practice of talking to you in private, endlessly charming, but oddly invasive—like he’s studying you
Any time he has a new play, you're the first to get invited to watch it. Sometimes, if he's particularly frustrated or uninspired, he'll ask you to come to rehearsals with him.
You and Vincent sometimes visit him in his villa to make sure he's not writing himself to death.
Vlad
A sweet florist you met in town while you were miserable in the first week. He gave you a flower to cheer you up and was the epitome of charming, so charming in fact, that you accidentally revealed you lived in the mansion. Once you’ve revealed that fact, he began seeing you every time you were alone in town (for no ulterior motive at all)
General HCs for All!
Writes you letters daily/weekly; a habit picked up after the first night and seeing how spooked you were
Help you and Sebastian as much as they can; they can obviously clean up for themselves and even cook when they feel inclined
More residents have meals together than ever before; your presence sort of unites them and they’re super grateful for that
You’ve achieved the point where every resident is together during dinner
Birthdays, special occasions, and achievements are celebrated because you organize them for everyone
Since Halloween is your favourite holiday, the residents make an effort to dress up for it
Valentine’s Day is a bit of a mess, with you making a gift for every resident
White Day was used by the residents to give you their gifts, and it’s overwhelming, to say the least
They’re huge gossips, so any and every update on you is spread like wildfire to everyone. Good luck having an off-day
Dazai is the first to notice, being the most emotionally intelligent
Leonardo is the quickest one to take action, quite literally scooping you from whatever you’re doing to cheer you up
Napoleon is also another quick one to constantly check in on you and look for you if you come home too late
Sebastian usually keeps track of who you’re with or where you are if you guys are separated
Buys you random presents, usually connected to something between the two of you, but also sometimes follows current trends
Isaac buys you a hairclip he thinks looks darling on you
Dazai buys you a notebook to use as a diary, especially after noticing your journal’s almost full (and no he totally doesn’t peek in your writing)
Jean will always find something in town to bring to you in your night lessons
Comte… do I even need to say anything
Supports you in anything you pursue (I believe the canon says that you’re starting out as a writer, so I’mma use that)
You keep notes of your every day in your diary, sort of like a vlog and a lot of the snoopy residents read it. Eventually they suggest that you publish some of it
Being a huge fan of literature, the authors organize a writer’s night where you come up with a prompt and they share how they’d write it
If you ever end up writing something, they’re the first to hear and are your biggest fans
You’re a frequent guest teacher in Napoleon’s and Isaac’s école
You always thought you weren’t good with kids, but seeing how much the children like you reassured you
Napoleon teases you on how much you say you dislike children but secretly enjoys the time with them
Isaac is extremely grateful for how much you like organizing his lesson plans
if you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading! i hope you have a wonderful day and leave a like/reblog <3
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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 ❤️❤️❤️
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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
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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….
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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.
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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.”
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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.
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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
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solomons-poison · 4 months
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Hello!! Aww thank you, I'm glad you liked what I've written 🥰 sure I'd be happy to do that prompt with Leo!
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♔ : Finding the other wearing their clothes
Pairing: Leonardo x GN!reader
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Leonardo could have sworn he was losing his mind. He'd been busy taking apart, investigating, fixing, then putting back together various old instruments at the mansion. It was a rare day when many of the residents were home, and somehow they all seemed to converge at once asking for his assistance in fixing their things.
And he didn't really mind it. It was nice to know that the residents felt they could come to him for help, not to mention it gave his mind a little exercise and something to keep him busy. His only complaint would be that it kept him from spending time with you. Of course, you were busy working in the mansion, too. Sebastian had you doing all sorts of errands that kept you two apart, so often, you only had a moment to exchange a few words, maybe a quick kiss, before separating.
While doing his work, he'd removed his coat to move more freely and to cool off after starting to sweat. However, he got so involved in a project that time flew by, not noticing the late hour until a clock struck twelve, the chimes pulling him out of his thoughts. He got up to stretch and realized a cup of tea had been placed at his side. He knew it had to be you that left it, but with how cold the cup and liquid had turned, it must have been there for a while. You were always looking after him, and it warmed his heart to see the ways you thought about him.
Leonardo cleaned up, planning to visit you, but as he prepared to leave, he realized that his coat was missing. He was fairly certain he'd taken it off in the current room, hung up on a chair as he sat on the floor to work. But now it was nowhere to be seen. He popped his head into several other rooms, all the last places he'd been, even checking his own room just in case, but no luck.
You'd warned him before about how messy he was, that he'd lose something and not be able to find it, and it was becoming increasingly apparent to him that you were right.
He realized it was getting too late, and finally gave up. The most important thing was getting to see you and spending a little time with you before bed; his coat could wait until tomorrow (even if it did irk him that he lost it). He made his way over to your room and knocked on the door, but there was no response. He knocked one more time, a little louder, but it was still silent.
Of course you'd fallen asleep. Between how hard you had worked today and how long you spent waiting to see him, it was no wonder you'd passed out already. Leonardo opened your door slowly, peeking in and confirming a figure was curled up on your bed, before entering your room. He quietly approached, wanting to get a good look at you and give you a goodnight kiss, but as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he froze.
There, curled around your sleeping form, was his coat.
Cute.
He felt his heart thump in his chest, immediately overtaken by how adorable you looked in his clothing. You really were bad for his heart. He took a moment to collect himself before continuing to your side, gently sitting on the bed beside you. Your breathing was even, peaceful, and your fingers were clutching the edge of his coat tightly.
He lightly traced a finger along your cheek before leaning down to kiss it, catching the combined scent of his coat, long since filled with the smell of his cigarillos, and your own natural scent, and it immediately made him relaxed. Smelling his scent on you eased his mind, reminded him you were by his side, you were alive and happy and that you were his.
With his kiss, you shifted awake, your eyes fluttering open. As soon as you registered Leonardo's face, a dreamy smile lifted your lips.
"Oh, Leonardo. Are you done now?" you asked, voice husky with sleep. You opened your arms, beckoning your lover closer, and Leonardo obliged as he lay down and wrapped his arms around you and his coat.
"Yeah, got too wrapped up in what I was doing. Sorry for making you wait," he said, kissing your forehead. He was quiet a moment before continuing. "By the way, do you make it a habit to steal people's coats?"
He felt you freeze in his arms, and he could just imagine the look of guilt on your face. You didn't say anything at first, and he worried that he'd been too mean in his teasing, but you finally responded in a quiet voice.
"I only steal yours... and only because it smells like you," you said, your face on fire and thankful the room was too dark for him to see you properly. "I missed you but I knew you were busy, so I thought having your coat with me would help..."
Leonardo felt like an arrow pierced his heart. It took everything in him not to crush you in a hug out of sheer force of love, and slowly, gently, pulled you closer instead.
"You say the cutest things, do you know that?" he grumbled, nuzzling against your temple. "Well, next time you miss me that much, feel free to interrupt me, alright? I'm not going to lose out to my coat if my sweetheart is feeling lonely."
He felt you smile against him, and purposefully kept you close so you couldn't see his face, just in case.
"Okay, I promise."
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omkookie · 7 months
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Guess who hasn't read Charles' route yet...😂 (Oops)
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⌈ ⚠️ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ⌉ Yandere themes, talks of baby trapping, isolation... all thattt. 15+
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As nice and kind he is, he's still crazy on the inside. Because of his lack of care, he doesn't behave normally. His obsessive traits quickly become evident and as easy to spot as black ink spilled upon a white sheet of paper.
Charles is hard to read, mainly because only god knows what goes on through his head. One moment, he's all smiles and everything is normal, the other he's getting mad over a stranger who looked at you for "far too long" according to him. (It was 3 seconds at most but oh welp.)
You see, he loves his darling so much.
She's so precious to him, and he wants to give her everything that she deserves along with so much more. But he has to get violent at times, especially when his beloved darling tries to escape. He doesn't like to hurt her, but due to the circumstances it's sometimes necessary. He has to teach her to not run away, and to remain by his side forever. Alas, he will forcefully suck her blood and leave her covered in bites.
In nis delusional eyes they're meant for each other. She's so beautiful, her sweet and pure smile along with her precious and caring hands. He wants to marry her and he wants to build a future with her where they start a family.
If she has kids with him, she surely won't try to leave, right? What cruel mother would take her kids away from their father.... Everyone knows how important a father figure is to the children and household. She couldn't possibly be some cruel monster that takes her kids away from their father now, could she?
of course she can't.
Charles has so many ideas with which he can trap his darling, he's honestly clueless at what to do and which to use first.
Should he go ahead and get her pregnant? She probably wouldn't be too happy about that, considering she didn't even want to look at him right now. She's locked herself in her room in hopes of avoiding him as much as she can, so she's currently in her rebellious state. It would be so cute to have little lookalikes of her running around the house though! having kids would literally prevent her from leaving him, so that might be his best option right now. It's also the one that brings him the most delight.
Something else that he might do is just keep her isolated from others. it will make her depend solely on him, both emotionally and physically. He's curious about how much her psyche might crumble. How much could she take before it became too much? When will she finally break and start loving him back?
His twisted perception of love might be due to his past and the people he's interacted with all these years while he was alive. His twisted feelings might have spiraled from a place of confusion, because his love itself is pure... it's just overshadowed and cast aside by the unrelenting possessiveness and longing for his darling that's achingly sweet like a pink venom.
Maybe his love isn't so pure after all? could love really get corrupted by any other feelings besides hatred? guess we'll just have to wait to find out and see how far he goes.
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shookspearewrites · 2 months
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Yandere(ish) Comte, "My Charlemagne"
Hello my little ducklings! I'm sorry I fell off the face of the Earth for such a long time - Tbh, there's been a load of changes in my life lately and I am just always so busy now that I'm starting my new career >2< I cannot put into words how fucking much I have missed you guys and writing and ikevamp as a whole!
I've just celebrated 1 year with my partner (Mr JJ says hi, say hey to him in the comments ^^) and I'm doing 9 til 5 every day at my work placement so that's my life update, let me know how you've been!
Anyways, I've fallen in love with the song 'Charlemagne' by Blossoms and I wrote this piece while listening to it on repeat on the train - Hope you like it!
-JJ x
__________
The gentle Comte's sharp golden eyes mirrored his protruding fangs as they pierced through the darkness hanging in cold Parisian air, violence brewing within his usually still core. Usually the lilting, soothing sound of the sweet mademoiselle's laugh would bring a smile to his handsome features, instead now there blossomed a deep scowl, a growl tearing from his throat as another man dared to rest his hand upon his lady's cheek - A man the Count thought of as an old friend, nonetheless. The nobleman snarled at the swirl of cigarillo smoke that hung thick in the air, circling the young lady like a halo as it slowly rose and was no doubt clinging to her clothing, staining it with another man's scent where her delicate, floral perfume should prevail. Where he should be able to smell her delectable blood, like nectar, flowing beneath her impossibly blemishless skin, waiting with baited breath until he could devour her. Her laugh, her blood, her love should've belonged to him, not another - now the dear Comte was no angel, but a Goddess like her deserved nothing less than he and he alone. He didn't like to admit that he was a jealous man, but the evidence was all there: Bloodlust on the tongue, a violent rage brewing in the gut and heartbreak pulling taught the strings within. Comte couldn't bare to watch the romantic scene unfolding by the river bank underneath the sky adorned with flickering stars for another moment. He took a short, sharp swig from the ornate hip flask he carried and turned on his heel, his body heavy like lead, weighed down with torment as he began to return home. Alone.
Time is the only true purgatory.
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princess-pray-a · 8 months
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Warnings : jealousy, breeding , creampie , standing sex , dirty talk established relation ,names like baby girl, dominant smut 18+
Characters:( choose your characterl) gojo , sakuna,toji,gilbert, chevalier, alter keith,silvio, vlad, faust, kanetsusgu, guy avari, jude ,roger barel, bakugo, jotaro,zoro
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⚠️JEALOUS BOYFRIEND⚠️
IMAGINE YOUR CHOOSEN SUITOR AS YOUR JEALOUS BOYFRIEND It wasn't your fault men drolled at you but your boyfriend was posessive . How could any other man mastrubate at the public transport imagining you . Before he could kill that guy you dragged him to your appartment ! Did you enjoy the guy mastrubatinh to thought of you ! No then why the fuck you didn't let me teach him a lesson . Your boyfriend yelled. No it doesn't matter ,i am going to fill that pussy with so much cum and impregante it . He tears your clothes off and yanks your panties to the side , his cock already rock hard . It was a sight to behold the veiny thick cock that sprung out . Now deep burried into your tight pussy .. ahh dyamn Your pussy is soo tight fuckk baby girl sucks my cock so well. The hard sloppy thrusts from you boyfriends fat cock always makes you see stars of pure white bliss. Like a pussy drunk he rams his dick soo deep it kisses your womb with each thrust. His hands grop your perfectly shaped breasts just right for him as he bangs you from behind across the wall. Soon your pussy clenches on his throbbing cock that sends out ropes of his cum and seeds filling you up to the brim.. the excess mixed love juices drips coating his cock with it . Fuckk only you feel this good baby ahh shit His mouth comes to bite fiercely at your neck soo hard your cry tears of pain and pleasure . " no body can have you ! Not even in their fantasy as you belong to me baby girl ."...
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The end
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natimiles · 2 months
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Lazy morning with Leonardo
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Words: 400
Tags: scenario; morning cuddles; fluffy; established relationship; no pronouns specified for reader; I changed his pet name to “amore mio”.
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The sunlight sneaks through a gap in the curtain, waking you up in the morning. You scrunch up your nose in a grimace and try to bury your face in the pillow, but it fails to protect you from the offending light. You’ll have to properly close the curtain, then.
Sighing, you try to move softly so you don’t wake Leonardo up. Frowning, you realize you couldn’t move even an inch; you’re still in the same position, lying on your stomach. Smiling, it dawns on you that Leonardo’s body is almost completely draped over yours, his chest pressing against your back, his legs intertwined with yours, and his arms locked around your torso, his fingers laced with yours.
It’s astounding how you hadn’t realized before just how trapped you were.
Gently, you try to free your fingers, but his grip tightens. As you attempt to move your legs, you feel his intertwining with yours, keeping you in place.
“Where do you think you’re going, amore mio?” His husky voice sounds close to your ear as you feel him nuzzling his face into your hair.
“The sun is hitting my face,” you pout.
Your frustration must have dripped into your voice because Leonardo softly lifts his head from the pillow to look at your face, then at the crack in the curtain. He smiles and flops back down, his grip tightening on you.
“I got you,” he says mischievously.
“What—” You’re interrupted by your own yelp.
He pulls you closer and rolls his body, causing you to pass over him and land safely on the mattress on the other side of him.
“There,” he smiles lazily. “Safe and sound from the sun now.”
“Leonardo!” you try to scold, turning to look at him. But you find it hard not to smile too, soon laughing. “Honestly…”
“No excuses to leave me now,” he says as he brushes your hair to the side and kisses your forehead.
“I still have to get up for work soon.”
“We have time,” he murmurs. “Until then…” He gently kisses your eyelids, coaxing them to close. “Have a good sleep.”
You settle comfortably in his arms, nuzzling your face against his chest, and he embraces you again. You can hear his heart beating steadily, smell the soothing scent of his cigarillos, and feel his fingers ghostly caressing your shoulder and back.
And soon, you’re back to sleep.
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Taglist: @bicayaya @silverbladexyz @koco-coko @yamarireads @judejazza @echoes-in-the-forest @chevcore @fang-and-feather
Masterlists
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whatever-fanfics · 4 months
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WAIT DO YOU HAVE A CONDOM?!?!!!
Has anybody ever thought about when MC and their respective suitor started getting intimate, and MC's brain goes straight to "wait-do you have a condom?" and they're just like "....wut???" Like you went from 21st century to the 16th or 19th century, so you have to stop them and explain to them the uses of condoms and what it's for. Like:
~~~
MC: Wait!
Nobunaga: ?
MC: *automatically* did you bring a condom?
Nobunaga: ?????
~~~
MC: Wait!
Leonardo: ?
MC: *automatically* Do you have a condom?
Leonardo: .....a wut?
~~~
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cloudcountry · 4 months
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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.
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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.
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nuttytani · 5 months
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Would you love me if I were a worm? Featuring ikemen vampire cast. (With gender neutral reader)
(a/n: when you have too much free time and need your hands to be occupied. Some random bullshit begins to form on your notes)
Napoleon
He finds it funny, why would you turn into a worm?
After seeing your frown tho, he says ok ok yes I will love you
Mozart
Makes a disgusted face and turns you down
First of all, you won't turn into a worm. So why should he answer?
"if people can turn into vampires, why can't I turn into a worm?"
He kicks you out of his piano room
Dude has some thoughts to organise
Leonardo
Laughs at you and says, "what will you do if I say no?"
Pretends to forget about it but after some hours, he comes back to you
"no matter how and what you are or will turn into, I'll still love you"
Arthur
"is this some sort of trick question? Well the answer is obviously yes, my love!"
Vincent
Thinks deeply about it and smiles at you
"of course, I'll still love you. I think you'd make a cute worm too."
Theodorus
Scoffs at you and calls you an idiot
Why would you turn into a worm?
And by chance, you DID turn into one, how was he going to take care of you? There's so many worms out there in the world. What if you get lost and he gets some random worm instead and you, are lost and out in the cold, ready to be squashed by big feet.
Dazai
Uno reverses you instead
Now you're trapped
Would you love him if he was a worm?
Gets sad if you don't answer quickly enough
Sebastian
"I am not doing this right now. If you're free, wash those potatoes instead. I'm already busy as it is"
Stays silent for a while and then sighs
"no matter what, I'd love you always and forever"
Comte
Chuckles a bit at the thought and immediately replies yes
He'd give you a good environment to live in. Some really nutritious soil and compost. Maybe a tiny rock for you to play with
"Comte, you just need to say yes... No need to.... Elaborate on what else you'd do"
"Alright. Well, would you love me if I were a worm?"
Shakespeare
Is fascinated that you even came up with such a question
His answer is yes
But at the same time, he's coming up with scripts that include a dramatic romance between worms. For his own pleasure
Vlad
Says yes immediately.
Thinks you'd look like a cute worm
Maybe he'd put roses next to your habitat or in it.
Charles
"of course! In fact, we can both be worms together! We'll be a happy worm couple"
He's actually taking the idea too seriously and goes ahead making worm habitats and gets a book on "how to raise a worm"
Faust
"I'm not sure. Though I suppose researching on a worm wouldn't be that bad"
Seeing you look unimpressed, he just chuckles while patting your head
"I'm only joking. Of course I'd love you"
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gunraekae · 2 months
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having an off day
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Ophelia - Friedrich Heyser
>ikemen vampire
>mansion residents x reader
>a/n: so sorry for the weird formatting in advance. i hope it makes sense. enjoy! 
You woke up with the weight of an oppressive dread. A black hole in you seemed to suck the vitality out of you. Usually your spirit was at least alive and willing to get you out of bed, but this morning, it was only dead static in your chest. You could chalk it up to feeling homesick or hopelessness with your predicament, but nonetheless, you were not up to it at all today. 
Still, you willed yourself out of bed, afraid to let Sebastian and the residents down (though you knew they wouldn’t fault you for being off, you still felt the obligation because Le Comte is letting you stay for free, after all.)
On that note, the residents would fs feel a disturbance in the force if you weren’t out in the mansion today. You not being there would set off a chain reaction and have them be grumpy and having off days too. 
While setting up breakfast with Sebastian, you asked for the cleaning tasks for the rest of the day. You loved the residents but unfortunately could muster up no energy to talk to anyone today. Sebastian's obviously the first to catch on, and as the mansion’s biggest gossip, will spread this notion to any and every vampire he encounters. Thankfully, he didn't question it and hesitantly granted you permission. He usually doesn’t give you the heavier tasks like cleaning, but seeing your dour mood, he caught on that you wanted the solitude. 
While passing out breakfast for the morning vampires (Arthur, Vincent, Theo, Dazai, Isaac, Mozart, Comte) you were unusually quiet. Usually, you would bashfully respond to Arthur’s flirty remarks or retaliate to Theo’s teasing, but today you only acknowledged everyone with a slight (and very forced) smile.
Dazai Osamu
I'm of the belief that Dazai has a sadness antenna that catches on to everyone’s emotions as soon as they feel them. So best believe that as soon as you woke up, he could already sense a disturbance in the force. 
So when you very quietly poured tea for him, he placed a gentle hand on your arm and gave you a silent “are you ok?” look. He could tell that you didn’t want to bring attention to yourself, but also didn’t want to leave you like this. 
The deal he made with you when you first arrived came to mind. He proposed that whenever you felt even the slightest inclination of sadness, that you came to him to confide in (because you know he gets it fs). 
You acknowledged it with a solemn nod, wanting to communicate that you remembered the promise but couldn’t do it just yet. Dazai pursed his lips in quiet uncertainty, but allowed you to continue your chores. 
Later in the afternoon, while tending to the gardens outside, Dazai nonchalantly sat by your working figure. He settled for watching you work before piping up, “how fortunate the flowers are to be cared for by you.” You may have jumped a little bit, having been lost in your thoughts. 
Dazai’s gentle smile seemed more genuine this time; not quite the clownish mask he usually wore. “Unfortunately for you, I may be the only one who understands your predicament the most.” He walked next to you, a serene silence in the air.  
You confess as much of your melancholy as you could put into words while Dazai remained contemplative and respectfully quiet. Whether it was your mental wellness being disturbed, thoughts of home, or even just a broad exhaustion, Dazai will listen and understand. Sometime during your tirade, tears seeped out from your eyes unnoticed, except by his golden eyes. He softly cupped your cheek and wiped your tears away; his touch never more than gentle. 
At that moment, Dazai touched your face as if it was a delicate flower petal about to fall to its demise. His heart clenched in both tender affection at your vulnerability around him, and deep anguish that it was you who suffered and he couldn’t take that burden instead. How was it that a beautiful angel like you was tormented at this moment and not him, the sinful monster who was deserving of your burden and more. Still, he kept those demeaning thoughts quiet and yearned that his love could be felt in his gentle touches to your cheek. 
Dazai is the most sensitive to others’ emotions and will be the first to catch on to any of your mood changes. He'd rather die than leave you toiling in your own sadness, so he’ll follow you around until you confide in him. As tragic as it is, it’s his responsibility to make sure no one else, and especially not someone he cares about so deeply like you, feels the same torture he does. 
Arthur Conan Doyle
The writers are perceptive and sensitive to people’s emotions and characters, and usually you love them for that. Today, it made you the slightest bit frustrated. With only a meek “thank you” to Arthur’s compliment of, “your beautiful face is the perfect start to this day, love” he knew something was wrong. 
You poured his coffee quietly, hoping no one would pay attention to you. Arthur placed a soft hand against your back and asked lowly, “are you alright? Did something happen?” you shook your head and gave him an appreciative smile. 
You moved to pour Theo’s drink next, but Arthur’s arm wrapped around your waist. He motioned for you to come closer and so you leaned down.
“I've got to run errands in town today, but I'll find you once I get back. Do you think you can talk to me then?” he whispered. 
“I'm not sure.”
“I hate to leave you like this, love, really. At least promise me you can hold out until later and you can take all your frustration out on me, yes?” you find yourself laughing a little at his suggestion. He smiled in victory and gave your waist a small squeeze before letting you go.
Once Arthur returns from his errands, it’s just nearing lunch. True to his word, he finds you in the mansion (good luck evading his genius mind) and vows to take you out for a meal. You can refuse all you want, but it truly does wound him seeing you the slightest bit upset. Maybe his past influences that, but nonetheless, he wants to make you happy. 
He’ll do everything in his power to make you laugh, and if that doesn’t work, he’ll try and pester you so that you take your anger out on him. 
He treats you like a princess during the date, hooking his arm under yours, pushing your chair in, paying for everything, and if you were up to it, taking you shopping afterwards. 
He’ll try and seek out a case nearby as those tend to cheer you up and serve as a welcome distraction. 
Whether you choose to confide in him or not, he might have already caught on to what made you upset and will subtly offer a word of advice or comfort, depending on whichever you needed. And he’s perceptive enough to catch on to what you need. 
Nevertheless, the author’s darling attempts of alleviating your mood will likely be a success. Arthur is one of the tragic ones who would rather suffer than even endure the thought of his cared ones being upset. And you’re the one who brought new light into his revived life, so admittedly, he enjoys being there for you. If you allow him past your walls, Arthur would do just about everything to prove it was worth doing so. His care may be hidden under layers of deceptive and cliché flirtation, but a little unravelling shows just how tenderly he cares for you. So while his attempts do reflect that playboy life, the warm hand on your back proves there is no one in this new life he treasures more than yourself. 
Theodorus van Gogh
Still feeling Arthur’s and Dazai’s worried looks on your back, you moved on to Theo, who was unfortunately, less perceptive than the two. 
“Took you long enough, hondje. Dogs aren’t known to be so slow.” he huffed, having already placed a generous amount of sugar in his cup. You could barely register the small, “sche uit, Theo,” from Vincent. Still, his comment served to sour your mood even further, a sinking feeling in your heart suddenly blurring your eyes. 
Your spatial awareness being off, you almost overfilled Theo’s cup. This time, he took notice of your shaky and meek manner. He was about to complain, but when you turned to him to apologise, he saw your teary eyes.
“You hurt? What happened? Who hurt you?” Theo immediately asked in concern. You shook your head in alarm. His handsome face scrunched in concern, and he reached out to seize your arm to steady its shaking. He set down the coffee pot and checked if your arm got burnt. 
he gruffly passed the coffee pot to his brother, and when he was faced with questioning looks from the rest of the table he simply said, “you pour your own damn coffee.” He motioned for you to leave, wanting to relieve you of your duties for this morning as a small mercy. 
Theo is unfortunately one of the busier men of the mansion, so he can’t do much until the evening when he returns. So despite the tense morning, there’s no resolution until after supper. what his words can’t deliver though, his actions do. 
Regardless of how many residents have comforted you, you remained silent and thoughtful. Their efforts were greatly appreciated, but your energy was still depleted. 
Theo catches you right after cleaning up with Sebastian. He hid a large box behind his broad back, strangely timid from his usual bold character. He cleared his throat, “hondje, I brought you something home from work. you told me you liked this last time I took you out for a walk.” 
He stepped aside to show you the large and very sweetly decorated cake in the box. you knew how expensive it was, and for a man like Theo, who was quite savvy with money, you felt a tinge of guilt for making him waste money on you. 
“Theo, thank you. I don't know what to say, you really didn’t have to.”
“Hush hondje. A master’s supposed to take care of his puppy. And you’ve been working hard lately—you deserve a little treat.” 
Of course, Theo indulges in the dessert with you, he may have bought it partly for himself too. But when he saw you enjoying something he gave you, it warmed his heart. Perhaps your smile is sweeter than any dessert he’s had before—and he’s got quite a sweet tooth. 
Theo can be brash, and not nearly as emotionally perceptive as the others. So initially, he’ll be his usual gruff and teasing self. But he’s a good man (savannah), and will always serve you, regardless of the master-puppy dynamic he’s got going on. He’s weak to you, and would hand you the world just to get a glimpse of your sweet smile again. He can’t have his pretty girl sad, that makes him a terrible master. 
Vincent van Gogh
You shook your head, insisting that you stay to help Sebastian. Theo disapprovingly shook his head and tried to stop you from doing more work, but you’d already moved to Vincent’s side. 
Vincent already caught on as soon as Theo asked if you were okay. He poured his coffee himself, so you passed him the small bowl of butter and served a plate of sliced fruit to help. Vincent gently stroked your back, “Schatje, we’re just fine here, you can sit down. Have you had breakfast yourself yet?” knowing you never liked to put yourself first. 
“I'm just fine, Vincent. thank you.” you stuttered out. He hummed in concern, “Sebas told me you were doing laundry outside today. I'll come help you, if that’s alright?” you shook your head, touched at his kind offer, but dreadful over having a companion. As sweet as Vincent was, you were afraid of being too brash with him, with how short your patience was today. 
“We don't have to talk or anything, I'm offering because I want to, mc. please?” Vincent’s pleading eyes were too precious, so you gave him a hesitant nod. 
Vincent brightened up, his angelic smile lifting your spirits up slightly. with a warm day like today, he usually painted outside anyway. at least you wouldn’t have to be with him the whole time. 
He gave your arm an appreciative squeeze before you left. you weren’t sure how to thank him exactly. 
True to his word, the moment you stepped foot outside, you were greeted with his “could heal any and every problem in the world” smile. He was extra handsome wearing his simple, white, button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled up. 
You gave him an appreciative nod, a bit flustered with having someone help you with such a simple task. Still, Vincent pleasantly hummed with no complaints, hanging the clothes you washed. 
It’s true that his hands were blessed by god, but his somewhat clumsy work with clipping the clothes on the line was a contrast to his paintings. Still, his determined expression dispelled any frustration you had, with how hardworking and adorable he was. 
With Vincent’s help (and the soft melody of Mozart's distant piano playing), the laundry was hung in sufficient time. other than having tea with Comte, you really didn’t have much left to do this early afternoon. Vincent cutely tilted his head in curiosity at your zoned out face. 
When he giggled, you snapped out of your stupor and glanced questioningly at him. “sorry! you’re just so cute staring into space like that.” Flustered, you faced away from him. 
“Don’t just say things like that Vincent. you’ll give me the wrong idea.”
“I mean it though. you’re adorable even just breathing.” He was doing that thing where he innocently compliments you, but just like his brother, actually wants to see you flustered. 
“Vincent!”
“and now you’re even lovelier when you’re all embarrassed!” Vincent chuckled, finally relenting when your hands fully covered your burning face. 
“Sorry for teasing you. I was just hoping I could make you smile. I know I'm not nearly as funny as Napoleon, or as dependable as Leonardo, but it hurts me to see you in pain, mc.” Vincent gently pried your hands away, holding them in his bigger and warmer ones. He stroked your palms in gentle circles. 
Really, he wanted to just wrap you in an embrace and hoped that you would let out your emotions to him. But he knew you needed time and patience before confiding in him. If you allowed it, he would stay all-day with you, just comforting and listening to any of your vulnerable confessions you chose to indulge him to. 
Eventually, you did relent to receiving a warm hug from him. you couldn’t see his face, but he was overjoyed you felt safe enough with him to do so. 
Angelic Vincent wishes he could take any and every pain you feel and take it all himself. It truly breaks his heart seeing your usually bright spirit so down, so he’ll do everything he can to comfort you. He’s patient and gentle; never crossing any of your boundaries and allowing you to take whatever you need and however long it takes you to find that out. He’ll help you with your work, sing you to sleep, feed you treats (that you hope he didn’t make), and give you as much or as little as you need. He cares about you deeply and only hopes he can be enough to cure at least a little bit of the pain you feel. 
Comte de Saint-Germain
Comte's face was already scrunched in worry from the moment you entered the dining hall. his calm and elegant demeanour belied it, but he was eager to finally talk to you. Once you reached his side, you swore you could almost hear the sigh of relief. 
“I speak for everyone when I say that no one can start their day right without seeing your face, chérie.” Ever the romantic, Comte wants to reassure you that you’re wanted (needed actually), and that he appreciates your being there. 
You’d be hard-pressed not to feel flustered by his words. “You’re exaggerating, Comte, but thank you.” Your usual routine consisted of having tea with Comte in the early afternoon, but you weren’t sure you’d make good company. “about later today comte—“
“I'll have the tea and desserts set up. i’ve found this new patisserie in the city—“
“comte, i’m really sorry—“
“You don’t have to do any work, mc. I want you to take a break.” He was clearly well-intentioned and the break did sound tempting. so with much hesitation, you relented to comte’s demands. 
Perhaps a little part of you dreaded it, knowing how protective Comte was over you. He’ll pry, and if he found out that it was another person’s doing that caused your mood, he’ll cause a riot (gracefully and elegantly, mind you). He was already waiting at the garden’s gazebo, a spread of various sweet pastries and steaming tea set up for you. 
He perked up upon seeing you, pushing your chair in as you sat down. He poured you tea and placed one of each pastry on your plate while you hopelessly tried to stop him. 
“I'm simply ecstatic you could join me today, ma chérie.” he hummed, sipping his tea. 
“It's not anyone’s fault, it’s just me.” You wanted to clear up what you knew he was itching to find out. his shoulders sagged down in relief for a brief moment before settling back into his perfect posture. 
“That's a relief, but I still want to make sure you’re okay, mc. Come, have some tea.” 
You could feel Comte’s golden eyes watching your every move, but otherwise, the tea was excellent and he was certainly generous with all the pastries. 
The real surprise was later in the night, after dinner, when comte asked you to meet him in his office. He was on the balcony, gazing out to the Parisian landscape (he would have been smoking then, but he tries not to). 
“You called for me, comte?” 
“Ah yes. mc.” The way he said your name was admittedly a bit seductive when accompanied by his golden eyes. he had this excited air about him, unknown if it was for innocent or more sinful reasons. He motioned towards a concerningly large box on his table. you opened it, and to your surprise (not really let’s bfr), there was a beautiful silk dress in your favourite colour. 
Comte moved close from behind you, and with a quiet “may i?” he delicately  put a necklace on your neck, the light brush of his fingers dizzying. 
He trailed his hands down to your shoulders and squeezed them, before descending to your arms. “ma chérie, i want to make you feel better. how can i do that for you?” he rubbed your arms up and down before wrapping around your body altogether. 
In this position, you could cry in peace, ramble in frustration, or be silent and enjoy his embrace without fear of judgement. He couldn’t see your expression, to save any embarrassment on your end, but he’s still there. 
Comte will definitely be protective and try and figure out if it was anyone made you upset. He would commit a murder to whoever did, but if there wasn’t anyone, he’d focus on making you feel better. His love language is gifts, quite obviously, but I also like to believe that he’s an acts of service guy who’d want to make things at least a little easier for you, like giving you a break. He'd want to reward you with gifts, expensive, but the kind that he knows you like. and if that doesn’t show you he cares about you, he’ll stay long enough to help you recover; in a way, he feels proudly possessive, knowing you could show your vulnerability to only him. 
Napoleon Bonaparte
As one of the late risers, you were tasked with waking him up in the morning. you did your usual routine of ripping the blankets off him and blocking his kiss with your hand. this time though, you left the former emperor be, once you caught sight of his half-opened eyes. 
He took a minute to catch on to your disappearance (forgive him, he’s half-awake) but as soon as it registered in his sleepy brain, he zoomed out of his room to catch your retreating figure. 
You knew he was one of the persistent men of the mansion, unable to leave you alone even when you weren’t upset. so this time around, he was hellbent on following you until you’d answer his inquiries. 
“Nunuche? what’s gotten into you?” he would quickly catch up to you and grip your arm until you show him your teary face. And only then would he relent and hold your hand instead.
You could confide in him and tell him about all your problems, because after all, he was the man who saved you and vowed to protect you all this time. However, even if you didn’t at that moment, nothing would stop Napoleon from making you feel better. 
He would briefly venture into town to absolve him of any of his guard duties so he could remain at your side the entire day. Perhaps a bit of an overreaction on his part, but owing his new life to you, he wanted to prioritise you above all else. 
Unlike a certain lazy Italian, this Italian will politely request that you be relieved of your tasks, and though you insisted on at least completing the laundry with Vincent and having tea with Comte, you relented to his demands. 
His usual routine was to take you to the stables and run as far as you can on his horse. It was often what helped him dispel the ghosts from his past; the coolness of the afternoon wind was a soothing balm to your face that was drenched with hot tears. He would childishly ignite a race between the two of you through the vast woods surrounding Comte’s mansion, if only to ease your heavy mind with a far less laborious task. 
He’d lead you to a small meadow on the outskirts of the fields, far from prying eyes and ears. There you can let any emotion out: whether that was a yell of frustration, a scream of rage, or harsh sobs, Napoleon will do it first, if it removes any embarrassment on your end. 
Whether you choose to confide in him or not, (which you likely would, considering how unyieldingly supportive and protective Napoleon had been for you thus far) Napoleon will willingly listen to anything you say. You could wax cheesy poetry, ponder about the origins of the universe, or just recall mundane moments in the mansion, but Napoleon will respond in kind to any silly statement you make. 
Napoleon of all people wouldn’t be opposed to having a nap on the soft, dewy grass, under the blanket of the warm setting sun. Once it gets cold though, he’d take you back to the mansion. 
If you still felt overwhelmed, he would bring you up to the attic that overlooked the Paris skyline. 
Napoleon, as he hopes that you consider him one of your closest companions, would do everything in his power to ease your pain. He’d begin by alleviating your work for the day, and whether that entailed him undertaking those chores or simply helping you with them, he’d do anything. Then, he might try what works best for him when he has his off days, usually in regard to the past, but allow you to dictate what he can or can’t do. Really, he hopes that whatever he does dispels those clouds of anguish and replaces it with some good old Napoleon humour. As the evening closes in, he’d take you to the attic. With only the stars and the moon as your witness, Napoleon would do everything in his power to bring you comfort. 
sorry that i wasn't able to write for everyone in this post, but I'll feature the rest (Leonardo, Isaac, Mozart, Jean, and a few bonus characters) on the next post. i just wanted to get some content out now.
if you made it this far, thank you so much for spending your time on my writing. lmk if you enjoyed it (or didn't, but pls be nice abt it I'm sensitive). have a great day, my dear <3
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violettduchess · 3 months
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A/N: Because he didn't have one yet 💜
WC: ~600
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He tastes like coffee and wonder, like fudge and fervor.
The minutes leading up to this moment, this embrace in the depth of night, began with you coming back through the mansion door just as the clock struck the midnight hour, one hand pushing back the rich hood of your cloak, revealing cheeks flushed from the cold and eyes bright as sunlight winking off a morning’s frost. Your smile was wide and warm and open as you stepped into the parlor, searching for him. Arthur took one look at you, threw down his hand of cards and with a light smile and breezy valediction, took your hand and took his leave, pulling you along with him, away from the knowing glances of the others.
Up the wide staircase you go, down the carpeted hallway with its arched windows letting in pale slants of moonlight. Your room is much too far away and his may as well be on the moon. 
He needs you now.
And so he pulls you into a shadowy alcove, pulls you against his lean body. You’re laughing softly, breathless, murmuring something about still wearing your cloak and boots and- 
“As if that matters, luv.” 
And then his lips are on yours and you realize, no, no it doesn’t matter at all. Although eager, his kiss begins soft, one hand sliding up, across the plane of your cheek, thumb stroking smooth skin. His lips leave yours to roam the line of your jaw, to prowl the sensitive place below your ear. You tilt your head back and allow him access to the slope of your neck, expecting him to sink his sharp fangs in immediately, unable to resist the feeling of lawless pleasure.
He does not.
Instead, kiss after kiss decorates your skin, as if you are a blank page and he is the writer, jotting formless words of desire and devotion, of tenderness and aching affection along your throat, your collarbone, your shoulder.
No one before you has ever mattered. You are the beginning of his greatest story.
His name is a sigh whispered into the shadows, your fingers catching his chin and lifting his head back up so you can kiss his mouth, the romance of the moment draped around you like silken cords. His hands slide under your cloak, untuck your blouse from your skirt and slide underneath, palms pressing against the bare skin of your back. Up they slide, along your spine, then back down the lines of your torso. You are softer than vellum, his fingertips curling and tracing a filigree along your waist. They feel feather-light, like ink trails across your skin.
“I need you,” he breathes against your lips, sincere and honest, his heart a fragile thing you hold in your hands. And you smile, clutching the nape of his neck. “I need you too.”
He lifts you into his arms, kissing you once more, this time harder, a kiss edged with the promise of what is to come. You curl against him, soft and boneless as his long legs carry you down the hall, towards your room. You close your eyes, nuzzling into his neck, dropping kisses like tiny sparks against his skin. 
His heart thunders in his chest at your touch and he knows, with every fiber of his being, that you love him, as he is. You, who pulled his gaze away from the regrets of his past and helped him close the chapters on the trauma that had haunted him for far too long. Your love cradles him and keeps him safe, a cover to his fragile pages and a promise for all that is still unwritten.
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