Ikevamp Vlad - Tumblr Posts

Vlad and Marshmellow being confused- i love them so much OMG-

Gift wrapping 5

Vlad:

Florists know how to wrap gifts attractively. Each of Vlad's gifts is either arranged like a bouquet or contain some of his most beautiful and rare flowers, or chocolates wrapped like flowers....

Charles:

Charles gifts are elaborately wrapped with many bows, flowers and ribbons. Mostly in pastel colors to stand out from the standard Christmas colors and can be easily found.

Faust:

If this man gives away anything at all, his presents are in boxes that don't reveal what's inside. Wrapped in cloths he finds and decorated with a minimum of herbs from his laboratory. Some herbs beautiful, some beautiful and poisonous.

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disclaimer: english isn't my native language so sorry for any mistakes ^^". Also these pictures aren't mine, they just examples from pinterest.

Headcanons: a kiss in each season with 4 different princes!

A/N: So after talking a bit to the lovely @bellerose-arcana I added 4 vamp suitors too!

Word Count: 872

Spring: Clavis / Mozart

Clavis kisses you with all the vibrancy of spring. You feel alive like a riotous blossom proclaiming its return from a long season of sleep. Wild and full of abandonment, you throw your arms around him the way Mother Nature haphazardly throws color back into the world. Every shade of green from pale jade to deep forest colors your heart. Petals practically vibrating with the force of their colors, the pinks and reds and blues and yellows, bloom within its chambers. It is the season of rebirth, of hope, of emergence. This is what you feel when you kiss him. A fountain of love that springs between your hearts, whose refreshing taste is on your lips every time you kiss.

Kissing Mozart feels like the thaw of winter as it slowly melts away, giving up its hold on the world so that spring can be born. You are Persephone, rising from the Underworld to breathe life into his wintery form. Your fingers run through pale, snowy hair, curl into its softness. Cool amethyst eyes slowly warm, ignited by the feel of you pressed against him. Color stains his cheeks like sunlight breaking through the gloom. His embrace shifts, muscles going lax, his body warming under your touch, softening and opening like a bud reaching for the sun.

Summer: Keith / Leonardo

Keith is like a summer’s day that sneaks up on you with its intensity. He wraps his strong arms around you and you are warm and safe and the world is bright. His embrace is the brilliant blue sky wrapping itself around you. It feels expansive yet welcoming. You could lose yourself in it and be happy forever. And then he kisses you, pure and joyful, and you taste sunshine on your lips. He is the brightness of red strawberries and the sweetness of peaches. You tighten your arms around him, wanting more. As you linger in his embrace, as you chase the taste of him, heat builds inside you, waves of it slowly rolling through your veins. This is no longer a soft summer morning, but midday in all of its sweltering glory.

Summer has its halcyon days that seem to stretch on forever, where the sun lounges in the sky like a lion on the Savannah, sprawling across the day it knows it owns. Leonardo pulls you to him, almost lazily. Definitely possessively. As the sun greedily clutches the sky, he holds you against his body, his kiss a paradox: slow and heated, unhurried, the languor of the day conveyed through lips and tongue....yet these slow, decadent kisses spark a thundering through your veins, loud and wild as a sudden summer storm.

Autumn: Leon/ Comte

Leon cups your face in his strong hands, his eyes as gold as the turning leaves, bright as a brilliant autumn sun when he looks at you, the anticipation of your kiss akin to the trees bracing themselves, whispering of the coming winter. But there is nothing cold about the feel of his mouth on yours. His lips move over yours, soft as cashmere, sweet as apple cider. His fingers trace the curve of your jaw. You melt against him, your heart soaring like a kite on the wind, a tail of soft, glowing sparks trailing across your skin. 

Comte’s touch is gentle, sure and velvet with desire. His lips brush the lightest of kisses across your collarbone, a cool autumn mist rolling across trembling fields of gold. You plunge your fingers into the silk of his hair, baring your neck to his wandering mouth. The long line of your throat echoes the wolf, head thrown back to howl its love for the beauty of a harvest moon. And when Comte raises his head, his eyes amber on fire, lupine in ferocity, you know his restraint has been pushed to its limit....and desire, with all the force of an October storm, is about to break free.

Winter: Gilbert / Vlad

Kissing Gilbert is wrapping your arms around the chilled air, pressing your lips to the smooth, slate gray clouds and tasting the sweet shock of cold on your tongue right before it melts. His fingers trace a frosted filigree against the nape of your neck, an invisible tattoo marking you as his. Teeth, white as snow, are winter’s bite when they nip your sensitive, flushed skin. The sting leaves you red, red with the evidence of his desire, red with a bonfire growing within. His hunger consumes you, a blizzard of craving and voracity that you willingly yield to, that you blissfully allow to swallow you whole.

Vlad holds you in his arms, the soft black satin of a winter sky embracing its precious diamond stars. His beauty is the softness of snow as it floats down to earth. And just as snow covers all in a blanket of glistening white, so does he enfold his beloved in his arms, wrapping you in an embrace as soft and tender as the light in his rose-red eyes. He lowers his head, his lips brushing yours. You feel beautiful, treasured, as if the white winter moon has chosen to bathe you in its soft, argent light. You wrap your arms around him, closing your eyes, knowing he will always be your way through the darkness, your warmth in the cold. 

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-prince-writers-posts @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @queen-dahlia @aceuuuuu @scorchieart @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

for the angst ask (thanks for opening them btw) vlad and illness? he waited so long for his mc (gn) just to watch them slowly dying in front of him, their last moments and what that entails? I want to be crushed haha

A/N: Hello anon! I took a little bit of artistic liberty here because I had an idea so its not illness, but rather an accident. The rest of the request is still honored.

CW: death, loss

Vlad x gn reader

Word Count: 1783

A Pureblood vampire has nothing but time. It becomes their only constant, the one fixed thing they can depend on as the world around them evolves and changes. The flow of time brings mighty mountains to their knees and changes the course of rivers. It has seen man crawl, then walk and now, in the late 19th century, begin to run as technology makes leaps and bounds within shorter and shorter time spans. And one sure thing about time: it never stops.

How does one bear the weight of years and decades and centuries? Vlad has found a way. Something that fascinates him. 

People. 

He has loved them with a ferocity sharp and deadly. That their lives are so fleeting, rising like sparks from a fire only to blink out of existence and return to darkness within mere decades, is what makes them precious. Worth fighting for. And he has never loved a human, or any other being, as much as he loves you.

You were the one he waited for. The one who imprinted yourself upon him like a brand, your essence burned into his soul with a heat that never subsided as he waited all those long years for you. And when the time came, when you understood who he was and what you meant to him, when you returned those extraordinary feelings of love and desire, he understood the words Shakespeare had penned when writing his greatest love story: 

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea 

My love as deep. 

The more I give to thee,

The more I have, 

for both are infinite.” 

You gave his world a beauty far beyond that field of roses he holds so dear. Vlad’s heart holds entire universes of love only for you. 

Which is why, when you told him you did not want to be turned, despite the consequence of death, he never once questioned it. He had simply raised your hands to his lips, his claret eyes closing as he pressed a kiss into your skin, accepting your decision. 

And decided then and there he would dedicate every moment you had together to bringing you joy. He would show you the world and in return, give the world the gift of your smile.

Which is why you were in London, exploring the world’s largest city and breathtaking capital of the British Empire. You were staying at Claridge’s, one of the grandest hotels London had to offer, and swept up in the whirlwind of pleasures Vlad had arranged: an outfit tailored just for you at London’s most exclusive boutique, high tea at one of the oldest tea houses in the city, a boat ride on the Thames. As you disembarked, hand in hand, a young boy was waiting with a message for Vlad. A mystery item he had commissioned was finished and would he care to come pick it up or have it delivered to the hotel? His rose-colored eyes had gleamed, his excitement dancing within their depths and along the curve of his lips. He would come right away. When you had asked what this mysterious item was, he had simply smiled softly. You would see soon, beloved. Go, the carriage that would take you back to the hotel was waiting just across the street. He would meet you in the hotel’s salon for supper.

You parted, his smile still warming your heart against the misty London air and you took the time to watch his tall figure grow smaller and smaller as he walked with the young boy down the street, eventually disappearing from view as they rounded a corner. Your heart could not be any fuller, your soul could not be more content. Vlad was the key that unlocked the truth about love: it mattered, more than anything. He mattered more than anything. Loving him had transformed your world into something so perfect it could be called heaven. You were so lost in your starry-eyed thoughts, your mind floating in the clouds on a breeze of affection and anticipation, you did not pay attention as you stepped onto the street.

You did not see the carriage with its spooked horse barreling towards you.

You did not hear the shout of warning.

You stepped out into the street.

And your world went black.

It’s tucked safely into the inside pocket of his jacket, carefully wrapped in the softest black velvet. One look at the pin, a detailed red rose made from the purest rubies with its emerald leaves and curving stem, made by one of the finest jewelers in Europe, and he knew it was worth every cent. It was a work of art and he was proud of the design he had created. He wanted something unique, something custom-made that no one else the world over could have, a symbol of his feelings for you and a sign to all who saw it that you, like the rose, are a rarity worth remembering, a beautiful spirit worth marveling at.

He turns the corner onto the street where you had gone ashore after your boat tour, his mind running through the way he imagines you will smile when he presents his gift, a smile that rivals the sun in all its brightness. All thought however screeches to a halt as he notices the crowd gathered, blocking most of the way. There are police wagons and officers doing their best to keep people away from something on the road. Vlad passes an elderly man sitting on the filthy flat pavement meant for pedestrians, his dirt-streaked face blanched with shock, hands shaking as he tries to drink from a flask. He hears the mumbled words, repeated over and over to no one in particular:

“The horse stepped on a nail. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. It stepped on a nail. I couldn’t stop it. They came out of nowhere. I couldn’t stop it-”

Uneasiness begins to slowly creep down Vlad’s spine like a spider descending on its silken thread. He was planning to walk around the crowd, his long legs swiftly taking him away from the buzzing and gawking of the crowd so he could get to you, his light, his love, and make sure you were ok. He will never be able to answer why he didn’t stick with this. Why instead of walking around the crowd, his feet begin taking him through it. 

Each step feels like the earth is trying to stop him, gravity is desperately pulling at his legs, trying to slow him. His feet feel like they are made of granite, dragging along as he shoulders his way through the dense, foul-smelling mass. Each beat of his heart becomes louder, the crowd’s murmuring becomes distorted. Fate has wrapped his heartstrings around her cruel fingers and pulls, forcing him to shamble his way toward a truth that will sunder his very soul.

He breaks through the throng. 

And sees you lying there, your soft hair touching the filth of the street, your head pillowed by hard, uneven cobblestones. 

Someone has thrown what looks like a shabby picnic blanket over your body, but Vlad can smell the blood through the fibers, through the grime of a London street. Your eyes are open, blinking rapidly, your lips trembling as you mouth one word. He recognizes the shape of his name.

“I’m here, beloved.” How he manages to speak through a throat full of thorns is a miracle, another question with no answer. He sinks to his knees beside you, feeling the dampness soak through his trousers, the hard stone biting at him. “I’m here.” You turn your head and the effort that costs you is evident in the flickering light of your beautiful eyes. He reaches out with a shaking hand, the movement slow as if underwater, and manages to brush your hair off of your forehead with infinite tenderness. His fingers are stained red with the blood trickling down your temple. He repeats the motion anyway.

Your breathing is labored and erratic but you refuse to look away, holding his gaze for as long as you can.

“I’m…..sorry.” Your voice wheezes, rough with strain.

His heart shatters into a thousand pieces. Tiny shards that embed themselves into his own lungs, that twist his stomach into a Gordian knot, that pierce his very soul and cling, barb-like and heavy.

“No, my love. My dearest one. No.” He smiles. It is a reflex, a gesture of comfort. His lips shift without him even conscious of it. Words continue to find a way through his blocked throat. Because he knows you need them. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His hand, still trembling lightly, slides down, cupping your face, the one he has loved for ages, the one white as bone and red with blood. “I love you.”

A shudder wracks your body and your eyes close. For a moment you don’t breathe and panic seizes him, gripping his mind with hands of steel. No, no. Just another moment. No.

And then you manage another breath. Your eyes open again, seeking his. Your lips part and he leans down to catch your labored, whispered words.

“I’m….scared.”

The truth of it bears down on him. He has seen death so often that it had become as innocuous as the changing of the seasons. Spring follows winter, autumn follows summer. People are born, live out the time they are given, and then die. 

And yet your words have turned the world upside down. Death is no longer an abstract, cyclical idea. It is real. It is on that grimy cobblestone street, leaning over you, reaching down, seconds away from taking you away from him forever. Stealing every place you never went. Every kiss you haven’t shared. Every declaration of love yet to be spoken.

Vlad presses his lips to your cold forehead, his hand still cupping your face.

“I’m here, beloved. I promise, it will be okay. I’m with you.”

Your eyes are on him, but they are no longer focused. The flame of life inside of them is sputtering as the curtains slowly close on your mortality. Your breathing becomes rapid, uneven, louder. The sound forever burns itself into his memory. 

You draw one breath.

His soul quakes. Don’t go, beloved.

And then another.

Beloved……I’m scared.

And then you are still, sightless eyes gazing into nothingness.

……..beloved?......

And his world goes black.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bubblexly

for the angst ask (thanks for opening them btw) vlad and illness? he waited so long for his mc (gn) just to watch them slowly dying in front of him, their last moments and what that entails? I want to be crushed haha

A/N: Hello anon! I took a little bit of artistic liberty here because I had an idea so its not illness, but rather an accident. The rest of the request is still honored.

CW: death, loss

Vlad x gn reader

Word Count: 1783

A Pureblood vampire has nothing but time. It becomes their only constant, the one fixed thing they can depend on as the world around them evolves and changes. The flow of time brings mighty mountains to their knees and changes the course of rivers. It has seen man crawl, then walk and now, in the late 19th century, begin to run as technology makes leaps and bounds within shorter and shorter time spans. And one sure thing about time: it never stops.

How does one bear the weight of years and decades and centuries? Vlad has found a way. Something that fascinates him. 

People. 

He has loved them with a ferocity sharp and deadly. That their lives are so fleeting, rising like sparks from a fire only to blink out of existence and return to darkness within mere decades, is what makes them precious. Worth fighting for. And he has never loved a human, or any other being, as much as he loves you.

You were the one he waited for. The one who imprinted yourself upon him like a brand, your essence burned into his soul with a heat that never subsided as he waited all those long years for you. And when the time came, when you understood who he was and what you meant to him, when you returned those extraordinary feelings of love and desire, he understood the words Shakespeare had penned when writing his greatest love story: 

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea 

My love as deep. 

The more I give to thee,

The more I have, 

for both are infinite.” 

You gave his world a beauty far beyond that field of roses he holds so dear. Vlad’s heart holds entire universes of love only for you. 

Which is why, when you told him you did not want to be turned, despite the consequence of death, he never once questioned it. He had simply raised your hands to his lips, his claret eyes closing as he pressed a kiss into your skin, accepting your decision. 

And decided then and there he would dedicate every moment you had together to bringing you joy. He would show you the world and in return, give the world the gift of your smile.

Which is why you were in London, exploring the world’s largest city and breathtaking capital of the British Empire. You were staying at Claridge’s, one of the grandest hotels London had to offer, and swept up in the whirlwind of pleasures Vlad had arranged: an outfit tailored just for you at London’s most exclusive boutique, high tea at one of the oldest tea houses in the city, a boat ride on the Thames. As you disembarked, hand in hand, a young boy was waiting with a message for Vlad. A mystery item he had commissioned was finished and would he care to come pick it up or have it delivered to the hotel? His rose-colored eyes had gleamed, his excitement dancing within their depths and along the curve of his lips. He would come right away. When you had asked what this mysterious item was, he had simply smiled softly. You would see soon, beloved. Go, the carriage that would take you back to the hotel was waiting just across the street. He would meet you in the hotel’s salon for supper.

You parted, his smile still warming your heart against the misty London air and you took the time to watch his tall figure grow smaller and smaller as he walked with the young boy down the street, eventually disappearing from view as they rounded a corner. Your heart could not be any fuller, your soul could not be more content. Vlad was the key that unlocked the truth about love: it mattered, more than anything. He mattered more than anything. Loving him had transformed your world into something so perfect it could be called heaven. You were so lost in your starry-eyed thoughts, your mind floating in the clouds on a breeze of affection and anticipation, you did not pay attention as you stepped onto the street.

You did not see the carriage with its spooked horse barreling towards you.

You did not hear the shout of warning.

You stepped out into the street.

And your world went black.

It’s tucked safely into the inside pocket of his jacket, carefully wrapped in the softest black velvet. One look at the pin, a detailed red rose made from the purest rubies with its emerald leaves and curving stem, made by one of the finest jewelers in Europe, and he knew it was worth every cent. It was a work of art and he was proud of the design he had created. He wanted something unique, something custom-made that no one else the world over could have, a symbol of his feelings for you and a sign to all who saw it that you, like the rose, are a rarity worth remembering, a beautiful spirit worth marveling at.

He turns the corner onto the street where you had gone ashore after your boat tour, his mind running through the way he imagines you will smile when he presents his gift, a smile that rivals the sun in all its brightness. All thought however screeches to a halt as he notices the crowd gathered, blocking most of the way. There are police wagons and officers doing their best to keep people away from something on the road. Vlad passes an elderly man sitting on the filthy flat pavement meant for pedestrians, his dirt-streaked face blanched with shock, hands shaking as he tries to drink from a flask. He hears the mumbled words, repeated over and over to no one in particular:

“The horse stepped on a nail. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. It stepped on a nail. I couldn’t stop it. They came out of nowhere. I couldn’t stop it-”

Uneasiness begins to slowly creep down Vlad’s spine like a spider descending on its silken thread. He was planning to walk around the crowd, his long legs swiftly taking him away from the buzzing and gawking of the crowd so he could get to you, his light, his love, and make sure you were ok. He will never be able to answer why he didn’t stick with this. Why instead of walking around the crowd, his feet begin taking him through it. 

Each step feels like the earth is trying to stop him, gravity is desperately pulling at his legs, trying to slow him. His feet feel like they are made of granite, dragging along as he shoulders his way through the dense, foul-smelling mass. Each beat of his heart becomes louder, the crowd’s murmuring becomes distorted. Fate has wrapped his heartstrings around her cruel fingers and pulls, forcing him to shamble his way toward a truth that will sunder his very soul.

He breaks through the throng. 

And sees you lying there, your soft hair touching the filth of the street, your head pillowed by hard, uneven cobblestones. 

Someone has thrown what looks like a shabby picnic blanket over your body, but Vlad can smell the blood through the fibers, through the grime of a London street. Your eyes are open, blinking rapidly, your lips trembling as you mouth one word. He recognizes the shape of his name.

“I’m here, beloved.” How he manages to speak through a throat full of thorns is a miracle, another question with no answer. He sinks to his knees beside you, feeling the dampness soak through his trousers, the hard stone biting at him. “I’m here.” You turn your head and the effort that costs you is evident in the flickering light of your beautiful eyes. He reaches out with a shaking hand, the movement slow as if underwater, and manages to brush your hair off of your forehead with infinite tenderness. His fingers are stained red with the blood trickling down your temple. He repeats the motion anyway.

Your breathing is labored and erratic but you refuse to look away, holding his gaze for as long as you can.

“I’m…..sorry.” Your voice wheezes, rough with strain.

His heart shatters into a thousand pieces. Tiny shards that embed themselves into his own lungs, that twist his stomach into a Gordian knot, that pierce his very soul and cling, barb-like and heavy.

“No, my love. My dearest one. No.” He smiles. It is a reflex, a gesture of comfort. His lips shift without him even conscious of it. Words continue to find a way through his blocked throat. Because he knows you need them. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His hand, still trembling lightly, slides down, cupping your face, the one he has loved for ages, the one white as bone and red with blood. “I love you.”

A shudder wracks your body and your eyes close. For a moment you don’t breathe and panic seizes him, gripping his mind with hands of steel. No, no. Just another moment. No.

And then you manage another breath. Your eyes open again, seeking his. Your lips part and he leans down to catch your labored, whispered words.

“I’m….scared.”

The truth of it bears down on him. He has seen death so often that it had become as innocuous as the changing of the seasons. Spring follows winter, autumn follows summer. People are born, live out the time they are given, and then die. 

And yet your words have turned the world upside down. Death is no longer an abstract, cyclical idea. It is real. It is on that grimy cobblestone street, leaning over you, reaching down, seconds away from taking you away from him forever. Stealing every place you never went. Every kiss you haven’t shared. Every declaration of love yet to be spoken.

Vlad presses his lips to your cold forehead, his hand still cupping your face.

“I’m here, beloved. I promise, it will be okay. I’m with you.”

Your eyes are on him, but they are no longer focused. The flame of life inside of them is sputtering as the curtains slowly close on your mortality. Your breathing becomes rapid, uneven, louder. The sound forever burns itself into his memory. 

You draw one breath.

His soul quakes. Don’t go, beloved.

And then another.

Beloved……I’m scared.

And then you are still, sightless eyes gazing into nothingness.

……..beloved?......

And his world goes black.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bubblexly

for the angst ask (thanks for opening them btw) vlad and illness? he waited so long for his mc (gn) just to watch them slowly dying in front of him, their last moments and what that entails? I want to be crushed haha

A/N: Hello anon! I took a little bit of artistic liberty here because I had an idea so its not illness, but rather an accident. The rest of the request is still honored.

CW: death, loss

Vlad x gn reader

Word Count: 1783

A Pureblood vampire has nothing but time. It becomes their only constant, the one fixed thing they can depend on as the world around them evolves and changes. The flow of time brings mighty mountains to their knees and changes the course of rivers. It has seen man crawl, then walk and now, in the late 19th century, begin to run as technology makes leaps and bounds within shorter and shorter time spans. And one sure thing about time: it never stops.

How does one bear the weight of years and decades and centuries? Vlad has found a way. Something that fascinates him. 

People. 

He has loved them with a ferocity sharp and deadly. That their lives are so fleeting, rising like sparks from a fire only to blink out of existence and return to darkness within mere decades, is what makes them precious. Worth fighting for. And he has never loved a human, or any other being, as much as he loves you.

You were the one he waited for. The one who imprinted yourself upon him like a brand, your essence burned into his soul with a heat that never subsided as he waited all those long years for you. And when the time came, when you understood who he was and what you meant to him, when you returned those extraordinary feelings of love and desire, he understood the words Shakespeare had penned when writing his greatest love story: 

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea 

My love as deep. 

The more I give to thee,

The more I have, 

for both are infinite.” 

You gave his world a beauty far beyond that field of roses he holds so dear. Vlad’s heart holds entire universes of love only for you. 

Which is why, when you told him you did not want to be turned, despite the consequence of death, he never once questioned it. He had simply raised your hands to his lips, his claret eyes closing as he pressed a kiss into your skin, accepting your decision. 

And decided then and there he would dedicate every moment you had together to bringing you joy. He would show you the world and in return, give the world the gift of your smile.

Which is why you were in London, exploring the world’s largest city and breathtaking capital of the British Empire. You were staying at Claridge’s, one of the grandest hotels London had to offer, and swept up in the whirlwind of pleasures Vlad had arranged: an outfit tailored just for you at London’s most exclusive boutique, high tea at one of the oldest tea houses in the city, a boat ride on the Thames. As you disembarked, hand in hand, a young boy was waiting with a message for Vlad. A mystery item he had commissioned was finished and would he care to come pick it up or have it delivered to the hotel? His rose-colored eyes had gleamed, his excitement dancing within their depths and along the curve of his lips. He would come right away. When you had asked what this mysterious item was, he had simply smiled softly. You would see soon, beloved. Go, the carriage that would take you back to the hotel was waiting just across the street. He would meet you in the hotel’s salon for supper.

You parted, his smile still warming your heart against the misty London air and you took the time to watch his tall figure grow smaller and smaller as he walked with the young boy down the street, eventually disappearing from view as they rounded a corner. Your heart could not be any fuller, your soul could not be more content. Vlad was the key that unlocked the truth about love: it mattered, more than anything. He mattered more than anything. Loving him had transformed your world into something so perfect it could be called heaven. You were so lost in your starry-eyed thoughts, your mind floating in the clouds on a breeze of affection and anticipation, you did not pay attention as you stepped onto the street.

You did not see the carriage with its spooked horse barreling towards you.

You did not hear the shout of warning.

You stepped out into the street.

And your world went black.

It’s tucked safely into the inside pocket of his jacket, carefully wrapped in the softest black velvet. One look at the pin, a detailed red rose made from the purest rubies with its emerald leaves and curving stem, made by one of the finest jewelers in Europe, and he knew it was worth every cent. It was a work of art and he was proud of the design he had created. He wanted something unique, something custom-made that no one else the world over could have, a symbol of his feelings for you and a sign to all who saw it that you, like the rose, are a rarity worth remembering, a beautiful spirit worth marveling at.

He turns the corner onto the street where you had gone ashore after your boat tour, his mind running through the way he imagines you will smile when he presents his gift, a smile that rivals the sun in all its brightness. All thought however screeches to a halt as he notices the crowd gathered, blocking most of the way. There are police wagons and officers doing their best to keep people away from something on the road. Vlad passes an elderly man sitting on the filthy flat pavement meant for pedestrians, his dirt-streaked face blanched with shock, hands shaking as he tries to drink from a flask. He hears the mumbled words, repeated over and over to no one in particular:

“The horse stepped on a nail. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. It stepped on a nail. I couldn’t stop it. They came out of nowhere. I couldn’t stop it-”

Uneasiness begins to slowly creep down Vlad’s spine like a spider descending on its silken thread. He was planning to walk around the crowd, his long legs swiftly taking him away from the buzzing and gawking of the crowd so he could get to you, his light, his love, and make sure you were ok. He will never be able to answer why he didn’t stick with this. Why instead of walking around the crowd, his feet begin taking him through it. 

Each step feels like the earth is trying to stop him, gravity is desperately pulling at his legs, trying to slow him. His feet feel like they are made of granite, dragging along as he shoulders his way through the dense, foul-smelling mass. Each beat of his heart becomes louder, the crowd’s murmuring becomes distorted. Fate has wrapped his heartstrings around her cruel fingers and pulls, forcing him to shamble his way toward a truth that will sunder his very soul.

He breaks through the throng. 

And sees you lying there, your soft hair touching the filth of the street, your head pillowed by hard, uneven cobblestones. 

Someone has thrown what looks like a shabby picnic blanket over your body, but Vlad can smell the blood through the fibers, through the grime of a London street. Your eyes are open, blinking rapidly, your lips trembling as you mouth one word. He recognizes the shape of his name.

“I’m here, beloved.” How he manages to speak through a throat full of thorns is a miracle, another question with no answer. He sinks to his knees beside you, feeling the dampness soak through his trousers, the hard stone biting at him. “I’m here.” You turn your head and the effort that costs you is evident in the flickering light of your beautiful eyes. He reaches out with a shaking hand, the movement slow as if underwater, and manages to brush your hair off of your forehead with infinite tenderness. His fingers are stained red with the blood trickling down your temple. He repeats the motion anyway.

Your breathing is labored and erratic but you refuse to look away, holding his gaze for as long as you can.

“I’m…..sorry.” Your voice wheezes, rough with strain.

His heart shatters into a thousand pieces. Tiny shards that embed themselves into his own lungs, that twist his stomach into a Gordian knot, that pierce his very soul and cling, barb-like and heavy.

“No, my love. My dearest one. No.” He smiles. It is a reflex, a gesture of comfort. His lips shift without him even conscious of it. Words continue to find a way through his blocked throat. Because he knows you need them. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His hand, still trembling lightly, slides down, cupping your face, the one he has loved for ages, the one white as bone and red with blood. “I love you.”

A shudder wracks your body and your eyes close. For a moment you don’t breathe and panic seizes him, gripping his mind with hands of steel. No, no. Just another moment. No.

And then you manage another breath. Your eyes open again, seeking his. Your lips part and he leans down to catch your labored, whispered words.

“I’m….scared.”

The truth of it bears down on him. He has seen death so often that it had become as innocuous as the changing of the seasons. Spring follows winter, autumn follows summer. People are born, live out the time they are given, and then die. 

And yet your words have turned the world upside down. Death is no longer an abstract, cyclical idea. It is real. It is on that grimy cobblestone street, leaning over you, reaching down, seconds away from taking you away from him forever. Stealing every place you never went. Every kiss you haven’t shared. Every declaration of love yet to be spoken.

Vlad presses his lips to your cold forehead, his hand still cupping your face.

“I’m here, beloved. I promise, it will be okay. I’m with you.”

Your eyes are on him, but they are no longer focused. The flame of life inside of them is sputtering as the curtains slowly close on your mortality. Your breathing becomes rapid, uneven, louder. The sound forever burns itself into his memory. 

You draw one breath.

His soul quakes. Don’t go, beloved.

And then another.

Beloved……I’m scared.

And then you are still, sightless eyes gazing into nothingness.

……..beloved?......

And his world goes black.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bubblexly

for the angst ask (thanks for opening them btw) vlad and illness? he waited so long for his mc (gn) just to watch them slowly dying in front of him, their last moments and what that entails? I want to be crushed haha

A/N: Hello anon! I took a little bit of artistic liberty here because I had an idea so its not illness, but rather an accident. The rest of the request is still honored.

CW: death, loss

Vlad x gn reader

Word Count: 1783

A Pureblood vampire has nothing but time. It becomes their only constant, the one fixed thing they can depend on as the world around them evolves and changes. The flow of time brings mighty mountains to their knees and changes the course of rivers. It has seen man crawl, then walk and now, in the late 19th century, begin to run as technology makes leaps and bounds within shorter and shorter time spans. And one sure thing about time: it never stops.

How does one bear the weight of years and decades and centuries? Vlad has found a way. Something that fascinates him. 

People. 

He has loved them with a ferocity sharp and deadly. That their lives are so fleeting, rising like sparks from a fire only to blink out of existence and return to darkness within mere decades, is what makes them precious. Worth fighting for. And he has never loved a human, or any other being, as much as he loves you.

You were the one he waited for. The one who imprinted yourself upon him like a brand, your essence burned into his soul with a heat that never subsided as he waited all those long years for you. And when the time came, when you understood who he was and what you meant to him, when you returned those extraordinary feelings of love and desire, he understood the words Shakespeare had penned when writing his greatest love story: 

“My bounty is as boundless as the sea 

My love as deep. 

The more I give to thee,

The more I have, 

for both are infinite.” 

You gave his world a beauty far beyond that field of roses he holds so dear. Vlad’s heart holds entire universes of love only for you. 

Which is why, when you told him you did not want to be turned, despite the consequence of death, he never once questioned it. He had simply raised your hands to his lips, his claret eyes closing as he pressed a kiss into your skin, accepting your decision. 

And decided then and there he would dedicate every moment you had together to bringing you joy. He would show you the world and in return, give the world the gift of your smile.

Which is why you were in London, exploring the world’s largest city and breathtaking capital of the British Empire. You were staying at Claridge’s, one of the grandest hotels London had to offer, and swept up in the whirlwind of pleasures Vlad had arranged: an outfit tailored just for you at London’s most exclusive boutique, high tea at one of the oldest tea houses in the city, a boat ride on the Thames. As you disembarked, hand in hand, a young boy was waiting with a message for Vlad. A mystery item he had commissioned was finished and would he care to come pick it up or have it delivered to the hotel? His rose-colored eyes had gleamed, his excitement dancing within their depths and along the curve of his lips. He would come right away. When you had asked what this mysterious item was, he had simply smiled softly. You would see soon, beloved. Go, the carriage that would take you back to the hotel was waiting just across the street. He would meet you in the hotel’s salon for supper.

You parted, his smile still warming your heart against the misty London air and you took the time to watch his tall figure grow smaller and smaller as he walked with the young boy down the street, eventually disappearing from view as they rounded a corner. Your heart could not be any fuller, your soul could not be more content. Vlad was the key that unlocked the truth about love: it mattered, more than anything. He mattered more than anything. Loving him had transformed your world into something so perfect it could be called heaven. You were so lost in your starry-eyed thoughts, your mind floating in the clouds on a breeze of affection and anticipation, you did not pay attention as you stepped onto the street.

You did not see the carriage with its spooked horse barreling towards you.

You did not hear the shout of warning.

You stepped out into the street.

And your world went black.

It’s tucked safely into the inside pocket of his jacket, carefully wrapped in the softest black velvet. One look at the pin, a detailed red rose made from the purest rubies with its emerald leaves and curving stem, made by one of the finest jewelers in Europe, and he knew it was worth every cent. It was a work of art and he was proud of the design he had created. He wanted something unique, something custom-made that no one else the world over could have, a symbol of his feelings for you and a sign to all who saw it that you, like the rose, are a rarity worth remembering, a beautiful spirit worth marveling at.

He turns the corner onto the street where you had gone ashore after your boat tour, his mind running through the way he imagines you will smile when he presents his gift, a smile that rivals the sun in all its brightness. All thought however screeches to a halt as he notices the crowd gathered, blocking most of the way. There are police wagons and officers doing their best to keep people away from something on the road. Vlad passes an elderly man sitting on the filthy flat pavement meant for pedestrians, his dirt-streaked face blanched with shock, hands shaking as he tries to drink from a flask. He hears the mumbled words, repeated over and over to no one in particular:

“The horse stepped on a nail. I couldn’t control it. I couldn’t stop it. It stepped on a nail. I couldn’t stop it. They came out of nowhere. I couldn’t stop it-”

Uneasiness begins to slowly creep down Vlad’s spine like a spider descending on its silken thread. He was planning to walk around the crowd, his long legs swiftly taking him away from the buzzing and gawking of the crowd so he could get to you, his light, his love, and make sure you were ok. He will never be able to answer why he didn’t stick with this. Why instead of walking around the crowd, his feet begin taking him through it. 

Each step feels like the earth is trying to stop him, gravity is desperately pulling at his legs, trying to slow him. His feet feel like they are made of granite, dragging along as he shoulders his way through the dense, foul-smelling mass. Each beat of his heart becomes louder, the crowd’s murmuring becomes distorted. Fate has wrapped his heartstrings around her cruel fingers and pulls, forcing him to shamble his way toward a truth that will sunder his very soul.

He breaks through the throng. 

And sees you lying there, your soft hair touching the filth of the street, your head pillowed by hard, uneven cobblestones. 

Someone has thrown what looks like a shabby picnic blanket over your body, but Vlad can smell the blood through the fibers, through the grime of a London street. Your eyes are open, blinking rapidly, your lips trembling as you mouth one word. He recognizes the shape of his name.

“I’m here, beloved.” How he manages to speak through a throat full of thorns is a miracle, another question with no answer. He sinks to his knees beside you, feeling the dampness soak through his trousers, the hard stone biting at him. “I’m here.” You turn your head and the effort that costs you is evident in the flickering light of your beautiful eyes. He reaches out with a shaking hand, the movement slow as if underwater, and manages to brush your hair off of your forehead with infinite tenderness. His fingers are stained red with the blood trickling down your temple. He repeats the motion anyway.

Your breathing is labored and erratic but you refuse to look away, holding his gaze for as long as you can.

“I’m…..sorry.” Your voice wheezes, rough with strain.

His heart shatters into a thousand pieces. Tiny shards that embed themselves into his own lungs, that twist his stomach into a Gordian knot, that pierce his very soul and cling, barb-like and heavy.

“No, my love. My dearest one. No.” He smiles. It is a reflex, a gesture of comfort. His lips shift without him even conscious of it. Words continue to find a way through his blocked throat. Because he knows you need them. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” His hand, still trembling lightly, slides down, cupping your face, the one he has loved for ages, the one white as bone and red with blood. “I love you.”

A shudder wracks your body and your eyes close. For a moment you don’t breathe and panic seizes him, gripping his mind with hands of steel. No, no. Just another moment. No.

And then you manage another breath. Your eyes open again, seeking his. Your lips part and he leans down to catch your labored, whispered words.

“I’m….scared.”

The truth of it bears down on him. He has seen death so often that it had become as innocuous as the changing of the seasons. Spring follows winter, autumn follows summer. People are born, live out the time they are given, and then die. 

And yet your words have turned the world upside down. Death is no longer an abstract, cyclical idea. It is real. It is on that grimy cobblestone street, leaning over you, reaching down, seconds away from taking you away from him forever. Stealing every place you never went. Every kiss you haven’t shared. Every declaration of love yet to be spoken.

Vlad presses his lips to your cold forehead, his hand still cupping your face.

“I’m here, beloved. I promise, it will be okay. I’m with you.”

Your eyes are on him, but they are no longer focused. The flame of life inside of them is sputtering as the curtains slowly close on your mortality. Your breathing becomes rapid, uneven, louder. The sound forever burns itself into his memory. 

You draw one breath.

His soul quakes. Don’t go, beloved.

And then another.

Beloved……I’m scared.

And then you are still, sightless eyes gazing into nothingness.

……..beloved?......

And his world goes black.

Tagging: @aquagirl1978 @alixennial @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @rhodolitesrose @ikemen-writer @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @redheadkittys @dear-mrs-otome @firestar-otomeobsessed @curious-skybunny @kpop-and-otome @writingwhimsey @mxrmaid-poet @silver-dahlia @wendolrea @otomefoxystar @nightfoxqueen @myonlyjknight @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @bubblexly

SO IM DOING A LITTLE FUNDRAISER TO HELP WITH KIKIS SURGERY BILLS

If you don't know...THIS IS KIKI!!

THE LOVE OF MY LIFE!!! SHE LOVES BELLY RUBS AND KISSES.

On Sunday she needed some hefty surgery due to bacteria and infections and lost a kidney. She's only 3, possibly has FIV(basically cat HIV).

Surgery and hospital stay came to be $10,000, and I had to pay 95% upfront might as well take all of it at that point

I also lost my job last Thursday, because I expressed my concerns to the district manager and the store manager didn't like that and fired me.

SO BECAUSE SO MANY OF YOU LOVE KIKI AND MY WRITING/BANTERS IM DOING A LITTLE THING!!!

For ikevamp guys only

For $5 I will write bullet point hcs with any guy with any scenario. Can be smut, fluff, angst, I DO IT ALL ＼(°o°)／

For $10 I will do a few paragraph drabble and maybe random banter with any guy with any scenario. Can be smut, fluff, angst OR WHATEVER.

Don't have $5/$10? Even $1 helps. Can't do that? Then please just share. I don't want anyone to feel obligated. Want to donate more but only have one request? ILL TAKE IT.

All of it is going to Kiki. And I'll be keeping all of you updated on Kiki too. I'm sure she will be needing special food, and follow up appointments.

Now what do you gotta do? I have PayPal here and ko-fi here

Leave a message with your URL so I can tag you (or if you want to stay anon and just stalk my blog that's cool) what guy, and what scenario.

Scenario doesn't have to be detail, if you just want smut, say that, or if you want a certain kink. If you want fluff you can just say fluff, or if you want a little coffee shop au.

You guys know how this works I'm sure.

OR GIVE ME $50+ AND I WONT ABUSE ARTHUR FOR A WHOLE DAY

Seems legit. Mozart really got hit with the second male lead syndrome. Sebastian tried killing me because I keep calling him one hell of a butler, Papi Leonardo is just papi I'm sorry. Vlad is vlad.

Your ikevamp love story click and drag game

Here's my result:

So basically I'm besties with Charles, which must've made Vlad my enemy. I fall in love with Dazai and have my first kiss with him while Jean is secretly in love with me. Sebastian cockblocks me for some reason. Then my lover Dazai tries to kill me but fails because Faust dies to protect me. My enemy turns me into a vampire, probably out of spite.

Interlude: Chapter 15 - Dramatic

Masterlists: Writing | Screenshots & Such | Edits

Ikevamp incorrect quotes 2

incorrect quote from @incorrect-ikevamp-quotes​

Omg, I just finished playing, it was put together so well!

The different quests are so precious!

I actually struggled the most with catching Dazai's chicken and finding Napoleon's sword (pls don't ask how) — but I support smacking Theo too haha. Oh, plus the thing at La Thermae, Comte's quest.

I had a great time, it would be wonderful if you'd make another game in the future! It was really well-made but the tasks were simple at the same time!

Download it people, it's worth it! <3

Ikemen Vampire RPG [Fan-made]

Hey friends, I decided to challenge myself in June to create a short game, and what better way to do that than to bring our favorite mansion to life! This challenge was a learning experience for me to learn the basics of game dev, which I enjoyed tremendously and hope to do more of!

✨ Play as the housekeeper of le Comte de Saint-Germain’s mansion, who is left alone to do as they please. But there is work to do, and the residents have left notes in their respective rooms of their requests! 

✨ Finish them all to gain access to entries from Sebastian’s ‘Oh no, they didn’t!’ journal and learn something new about the boys we know and love. 

✨ For more info, head over to this link! (And do let me know what you thought of the experience!) 💕 💕 💕

Oh W O W. I'm a sucker for these, always!!

Okay, let's see:

Vlad is my bestie— like damn, that's pretty cool and deadly.

Vincent is my enemy.... Now I wonder what did I do to make him my enemy, but I'm hella scared. For real.

Dazai as my first kiss, um, let's be honest it was probably a joke or an accident haha.

Theo is secretly in love with me, which is kind of weird, considering Vincent hates me..?

Then this angel tries to kill me, oh mama.

Then Theo dies protecting me. (This low-key feels like a tragedy Will would enjoy, if he knew.)

Then suddenly my lover is Charles, I probably know him because of Vlad?

Jean cockblocks me for an unknown reason, but at the same time I completely understand in his case. (And I'd say that I meant no harm, he just took it the wrong way. Sorry Jean.)

And then, as a climax of the story Vlad turns me. I mean, okay. After that I guess I'm stuck with him, Charles and Faust.

N i c e. ✨

Your ikevamp love story click and drag game

Here's my result:

So basically I'm besties with Charles, which must've made Vlad my enemy. I fall in love with Dazai and have my first kiss with him while Jean is secretly in love with me. Sebastian cockblocks me for some reason. Then my lover Dazai tries to kill me but fails because Faust dies to protect me. My enemy turns me into a vampire, probably out of spite.

Oh my, She did it again! (a.k.a Ikevamp artbreeder edits, this time - Pt. 1)

Well, well.... I've been kind of inactive for a little while. You might wonder what I worked on? This. And many other writing projects, but mainly this.

Am I impossibly slow? Yeah, I am.

(It's clear that if I have a writing block, then I just go to artbreeder lol.)

— But this time I really tried to make them the most realistic! I also (kind of) learned to use the 'race' filter in artbreeder, since all of these guys are legit European/Asian history figures. So I figured it would be appropriate.

Btw, this one gets multiple parts as well!

↓

Part 2 here!

• Arthur Conan Doyle

(He was fairly easy, to be honest. I was surprised. Other than his hair shape and hair color, I like it very much! But I think even those don't make that big of a difference. I tried to put a greenish tint into his hair? It's really faint. But other than that I like the little, sly smirk that makes Arthur Arthot. I also tried to make one where he has his glasses on, but it changed his hair and face a little bit, since the program is like this, so it doesn't look that good... Plus, I tried to draw on his ear cuff, but you can't really see it.)

• Theodorus van Gogh

(Now, Theo wasn't as smooth as Arthur. In my opinion his face isn't that hard to capture; he has strong, manly features, harsh eyebrows, an intense stare and maybe pursed lips? But it's not THAT easy to make him look genuinely good. Also, to make him similar to Vincent - or vice versa -, so not just their blue eyes match, but some other characteristics too. His hair is off, again, but it's really hard to make the exact hairstyle come true in these edits, but Theo wasn't even the hardest one here..!)

• Vincent van Gogh

(I could say the same to him as Theo, basically. His features are fairly easy to grasp and his design isn't complicated, but they're still brothers! The first prototype I had for him was good, but way too different than his younger brother. So, since I was done with Theo by that time, I mixed his face into it and it actually got better! Now, he has a stronger jaw, like Theo, and the curve of his mouth and eyes are similar too! All-in-all, I'm more satisfied this way! This has that angelic glint though! I also almost forgot to draw on each of their earrings oof.)

• Dazai Osamu

(...Well, he's the only Asian in the mansion other than Sebas (and canonically MC) so to be honest I don't know what to think. He looks Asian, but his features still feel way too generic? I edited his eye color and hair a little bit, to make him look more like the game design. But it still feels off. I'm not an expert on Asian faces and features, probably because I'm European and because I didn't know what to do more with him? The full picture doesn't look that bad, but I can't help and feel that something's missing oof. Plus he has a bit of and elf ear, unintentionally. His smile is nice though!)

• Isaac Newton

(I struggled with his hair color more than his features. I mostly looked at their 'profile pictures' in the game, and Isaac has that semi-glare, uninterested expression there, so I tried to mimic that in the first place. But his hair, ugh, that wasn't smooth at all. While I edited his eye color later, I thought I should do something about his hair, but in the end I left it as is. It's not bad, it's just way darker and more brown-ish, than the original design. But I don't hate it! I think it's cute.)

• Sebastian / Akihiko Satou

(He was a fairly easy and fast edit, just like Arthur. He's Asian, I'm not an expert on his features, and the game didn't do justice for his Japanese genes, if I might add. But of course it's a game, and I was the one who chose to go after a more realistic design! In general I was just lucky that most of the residents were European lol. But I like him too! I think I could've worked a bit more on his stern stare, and maybe his mouth, but changing the lips' shape is difficult in artbreeder, so I left it at that. But hey, he came out pretty handsome!)

• Napoleon Bonaparte

(He, too, was kind of a struggle as well. I had made two semi-finals, before this one. But I still think I didn't do his game avatar and European origin enough justice. But his face stands out in my opinion, so I'm satisfied with it at the same time! It was impossible to edit the white ends on his hair and I didn't wanted to do it after anyway lol. I don't think it's that bad without those. His eyes are not as nice 'emerald green' colored than in the game they like to call it, but they are piercing! And I think I captured his stare well!)

Part 2 coming soon! The purebloods and the others will be there!

There's still more to uncover!

Oh my, She did it again! (a.k.a Ikevamp artbreeder edits this time - Pt. 2)

Yup, here we go, Part 2! Let's resume!

↓

Part 1 here, if you missed it!

• Leonardo da Vinci

(I admit I was worried about him, when I started. I couldn't convert his avatar into a semi-realistic guy in my head immediately, so I was unsure. But I went with it, kind of mindlessly and just enjoyed the ride. And it worked! I think he got that mature, older-man look! A relaxed but piercing stare at the same time, and a laid-back expression! His hair is nothing like the game design but you know... I don't hate the extra curls. ;))

• Comte de Saint-Germain

(This is my take on him. It's not so good, not so bad, it's something... But I know I'll never be able to live down @redweed 's edit of him, that I saw once, it was utter perfection. He didn't even got the exact hair color, and its shape has a life of its own. Sorry, Comte. I went for and older, more mature look for him too, like Leo, since the dude's an ancient vampire, so might as well add some age to his gentlemanly features. Maybe his stare is a bit harsh? Not as welcoming and gentle, but a decent try from me!)

• Jean d'Arc

(Again, that one guy with the eyepatch. But this time I didn't struggle that much when drawing it on after. Yeah, I also edited his hair... The other picture is the actual portrait I achieved in artbreeder, minus the eye color. His hair was impossible to do - for me at least -, so I didn't even try. Like with Comte. I went more for the hair color, instead. It's decent, I like his blank and stone-faced stare. And I like how the hair and eyepatch drawing came out! He looks nice!)

• Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart

(He was one of the first — IF NOT the first that I completed. I don't remember. His features overall seem a bit strange and a bit possessed, with this eye color. His hair is a tad bit longer than in the game, but I'm actually surprised and happy that I could keep the pure white and it doesn't fade into a grayish color midway, just at the neck area, where it's darker anyway, due to shadows and overlapping lol. I'm satisfied with it! He's a bit grumpy but isn't he always like that?)

• William Shakespeare

(I admit, I kind of forgot about him, and I realized in the last minute that he's missing. Sorry, Shakes. He was similar to Leonardo, couldn't really imagine him right away, but as I searched and just went with it, it came out nice in the end! I went for a gentle look and longer hair, but damn— this time his hair came out really long XD. It looks like he has a long ponytail that reaches his shoulders, and it's a big unhinged, but it's okay since Will is unhinged too, sometimes. Even his mismatched eyes look nice, I like him!)

• Vlad

(I REALLY wanted to go for that soft and pure smile he usually wears! But he also has strong features; a long, firm jaw and nicely curved mouth, so it took a while. But I achieved what I wanted! And in the end, his hair came out good too! By that time, I didn't even pay that much attention to hairstyles. But he looks decent nonetheless, in my opinion. I kind of messed up with his eye color, but nvm. He has that sweet, pure but adult-like, mature look at the same time.)

• Johann Georg Faust

(Okay, OKAY. Everyone calm down! Don't lose control, I know he looks really good! XD. No, but for real, I didn't even spent that much time on him — with editing on glasses and all. AND HE CAME OUT LIKE THIS. AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO'S IN LOVE?? Be my husband, Faust. I was interested in him so far too, but NOW. Although the shape of his glasses are kinda off, you can see the general idea. I drew on his ear cuff and the small chain attached to it, connecting it with his specs, and edited his eyes, but I didn't even need to touch his hair! He just looks sooo good. And his strict, ruthless expression is one to die for too!)

• Charles-Henri Sanson

(I wanted to make him soft, but not as soft as Vincent. And I wanted to add difference in his features too, of course. I unintentionally made his hair this curly, but it makes him cuter in my opinion. I wanted a semi-smiling, gentle expression on him. I didn't draw his earrings on, and his eyes don't pop as much as in the art. But he's precious, isn't he?)

Yay, another one of the Ikemen games is done!

(Now I need to make one for the Sengoku guys, right? Well, who knows, my page is pretty messed up now in artbreeder lol.)

Overall I'm really satisfied with the whole gang, they look really nice!

And the realistic filter helped them a lot! <3