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gothic-aesthetic-gal · 3 years

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🫀𝔐𝔶 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔦𝔰 𝔐𝔶 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡🥀

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

Warnings: Some mild violence and gore (in keeping with the level you might read in classic gothic literature)

🔺️🔻🔺️🔻🔺️🔻🔺️🔻🔺️🔻🔺️🔻🔺️🔻🔺️🔻🔺️🔻

Chapter 2 - Firelight

The count was motionless - he possessed an unnatural stillness, his white skin like marble. He seemed to be caught in the rapture of some deep thought, a frown creased his brows and the orange flames, which licked away at the grate in the enormous fireplace, were reflected in his dark eyes. This turned me toward the dancing flames as well, and for a good while I found myself transfixed. I know not how long I sat in the stupor of sleep deprivation, but the creeping awareness that I was being watched drew me out of it. How strange that I should catch my host staring at me with the same primal fascination as I had stared into the fire. The hair on the back of my neck began to rise and I immediately became uncomfortable.

I stifled an anxious cough and, to my relief, he snapped back into motion once more.

"I am sure that you will find our service lacking, alas we are not accustomed to guests... Koukol has brought you supper but it is cold..." he murmured in a voice that undulated like the softest silk.

"Oh nonesense, i'm very grateful," I answered hurriedly, ever terrified of being percieved as rude and ungrateful.

There was another pause which I hurriedly rushed to fill.

"Would you like to dicuss your urgent business proceedings?"

He waved an alabaster hand dismissively.

"No, no. Tomorrow we shall talk of business, but I can see that you are tired from the journey and I do not wish to press you now. Please eat. You will forgive me for not joining you but it is late and I am not hungry".

Being the only one eating made you a little uneasy but unlike my host, I had not eaten all day - and so the meal, cold or not, was a well recieved. The wine and the roaring fire soon warmed my frozen skin enough to stifle my shivering and I began to relax a little.

"Koukol has shown you to your room, I hope you find it comfortable enough. I will only ask of you one thing: that you do not leave it during the night."

Presumably in reaction to the look of confusion that I failed to hide, he quickly added:

"This castle is very old and areas of it are unsafe. We do not light or heat most of it and I would not want you to get lost or wander into any of the areas where the masonry needs some serious repair. It can be very dangerous..."

I nodded slowly, suddenly less relaxed again and he seemed to notice.

"I see... i'll be sure to stay put then", I said a little mechanically.

After I had dined, my strange host took a lantern and led me back up the grand staircase and winding passages to my room. I trailed after him like his heavy velvet cloak on the steps.

When I entered the room, he lingered in the doorway for a while before bidding me good night and disappearing once more down the hall. After closing the door and undressing down to my nightshirt I hurriedly collapsed into the enormous canopied bed. I was exhausted, and sleep swiftly wrapped me in her arms.

To the Next Chapter ⬇️

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gothic-aesthetic-gal · 3 years

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🦉𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔱 🦇

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

Warnings: Some mild violence and gore (in keeping with the level you might read in classic gothic literature)

🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡

Chapter 10 - Moonlight

There was pain and darkness, and then it seemed to you as though you were floating. Gradually, images began to flicker to life before you, happy days spent in childhood before the arrival of your step-mother, long walks in the mountains with your father, reading on long summer's evenings. Then polluted like water by murky ink, darker memories, of your father's illness, and his passing, of the duke's lecherous grin as your step mother pointedly introduced you to him one night... you felt dizzy as your head swam with memory after memory like beads on a cursed rosary, they came faster and louder, spilling into one big echo chamber of deafening noise.

Then, out of the darkness, grew the form of the count. You reached for him, seeking comfort, but when he turned toward you his eyes were like that of the wolf man in the clearing, cold and red like glowing embers. He grasped your outstretched arms and roughly pulled you to him. You wanted to cry out but your voice would not come. Then you felt the pain of his bite, as though two sharp needles plunged deep into your neck and you screamed in terror.

Suddenly you were wrenched from the darkness and sat bolt upright. Krolock gently placed a hand on your shoulder from beside the bed.

"Y/n, it's alright."

Your heart was racing and your brow clammy with sweat.

"I... died." You murmured through laboured breathing.

"No." He reassured, caressing your cheek softly.

"Did you turn me?"

He shook his head, "I would not take away your choice in the matter my darling".

"I dreamed that... that you..." you trailed off into sobbing, overwhelmed.

You felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed by his answer, as he held you to him.

"Are you still feverish?" You asked after regaining most of your composure.

"No, you healed me my nightingale"

His voice was once again smooth, like a vast expanse of still water. You sighed in relief as the nightmare faded and laid your head against his chest. How strange it was that it did not rise and fall, that you could not hear the beat of his heart, but you did not mind. Slowly you became aware of the sweet scent of flowers in the room, a delicate perfume that wound its way around you originating from a vase of red roses on the dresser.

"You brought me flowers?"

"From the garden, yes. Do you like them?" He smiled.

"They're lovely, it was very sweet of you".

"They remind me of you. Though the garden is inhospitable to most plants and wild with weeds, the roses still bloom - even in winter".

You watched as he moved away, stopping to inhale the sweet perfume and inspect the soft petals.

"They're strong, and beautiful..." he added with a sort of finality.

The moon poked her inquisitive silver fingers through the casement window as there came a knock at the bedroom door. It was Herbert.

He effortlessly whisked a large silver tray into the room and placed it upon the bed.

"I thought you might need something to eat and drink," he said.

You took this unusually nuturing gesture to be a sign of apology for his earlier treatment of you, for now he was fretting and making a great deal of fuss over you.

"Perhaps she is tired", said Krolock pointedly, and with an eye roll and a bow Herbert left the room once more.

After eating and drinking a substantial amount of food, you sank back into the sheets. The count watched over you with an unreadable expression before coming to sit beside you.

"How are you feeling?" He asked softly.

"Surprisingly alert," you answered honestly, inspecting the bite wound on his pale arm.

It was no longer dark and angry looking, but there was a definite scar in his ivory skin.

"Why isn't it healing completely?" You asked aloud.

"Not many things can harm, or indeed end a vampire, but the werewolf is one of them. I will bear the scar until I cease to be".

Grasping your arm he turned it so that your palm pointed skyward. You looked at your own marked skin with morbid curiosity. It was already healing remarkably well, though you too would bear a permanent reminder of that night.

"What you did was foolish," he said, looking at the imprint he'd left.

You felt hurt by his sudden coldness.

"How can you say that?"

"Because it's the truth. I could have killed you. You wouldn't be the first".

"I know. I knew full well what I was doing." You muttered.

"The hunger... it never ends, the relief is only ever temporary. You should not stay here," he sighed.

"And what if I have no desire to leave?"

"Then you are twice as foolish".

You laughed in disbelief at this.

"I will make arrangements for you to leave at daybreak. You need not return to your step mother, I will provide you with the means to get far away from here and start a new life..."

"You cannot be serious?"

"I am, you must leave," he said with a grave sigh.

"I do not care whether it is beyond reason, I care deeply for you. I will not leave," you cried in exasperation.

His melancholy gaze met your own.

"You do not. You are drawn to me like a moth to a flame; they all are. You will burn if you stay."

"This is different," you protested earnestly.

"You cannot love a creature: I have no soul!" he hissed, walking toward the door.

He had suceeded in making you angry now.

"Do not tell me who I can and cannot love!" You shouted, tossing the covers aside and striding over to him.

You placed yourself between him and the door and glared at him.

"I am not just some naïve young (girl/boy), I know what I want. Do not pretend to understand me better than I know myself because you do not."

He seemed taken back by your bold outburst, pausing for a moment.

"You are afraid, I am not. You are afraid of me, of what my being here means to you," you added firmly.

"I am not afraid of you," he snorted, but you knew he was lying.

"Then you should have no reason to send me away," you answered, firmly planting your feet and crossing your arms in defiance.

"You have outstayed your welcome".

"Have I indeed? If it will protect your ego you may call it that."

"Get out of my way" he ordered, tossing his cape behind him and stepping forward.

"Make me," you retorted, raising an eyebrow at his idle threats.

Continue to the next Chapter ⬇️

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gothic-aesthetic-gal · 3 years

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🦉𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔱 🦇

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

Warnings: Some mild violence and gore (in keeping with the level you might read in classic gothic literature)

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Chapter 7 - Secrets

When you awoke, it was to the late afternoon sun streaming through the half open curtains and spilling across the room. You found yourself alone once more and sluggishly crossed over to the window to air out the dusty room. The winter sun hung low in the sky like an unblinking reptilian eye. It sent a cascade of memories of the previous night's events tumbling through your mind. You decided to wait in the library until sundown.

After browsing row upon dusty row of leather books you found one that took your fancy and set down in a nearby arm chair. Regrettably, the book was not nearly as exciting as it first seemed and you must have drifted into sleep once more.

"Hm, that book must be terribly boring"

A playful voice roused you and you realised that Herbert was standing close by.

"Oh! Well... you are right actually" you managed feeling very flustered.

"Oh don't fret so my dear, I was just teasing you," He smiled with a flash of pearly white teeth.

You nodded and got up to approach him.

"Care to join me for a stroll?" He asked, extending his arm toward you.

"Of course" you answered and took it.

You envied the grace and confidence with which he moved and spoke as you made pleasant small talk and roamed the halls. His long fair hair was almost white and his laugh seemed to you like the babbling waters of a silver stream. He had the same enthralling beauty as his father, the same captivating mannerisms... and yet you did not feel drawn to him in the same way. It seemed that perhaps the effect that the count had upon you was not entirely of his own design, was there possibly something more to it than his supernatural power of persuasion?

Herbert bowed before you and kissed your hand once again.

"I would love to stay and talk more but I have some matters to attend to. I am going to visit a young student in the city whom I am quite fond of. I will be gone for a few nights," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

You smiled and wished him safe travels.

Needing some time to think and wanting to find out more about your mysterious host, you ventured out into the castle grounds and sat among the jumbled tombs and headstones of the graveyard. Behind you there was a dilapidated chapel long since overrun by nature's congregation: plant life and the burrows of animals. There was a strange beauty in the sense of ruin here, like in the castle, but more so out beneath the stars among the crumbling monuments to people long since dead and gone.

You were picking clumps of moss from a headstone so that the lettering might once again be legible when you felt his familiar presence.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to read this epitaph" you answered casually without turning to face him.

When he did not respond you turned to look at him. His expression was unreadable.

"That is my mother's grave" he said finally.

You did not know how to react then but soon recollected yourself and continued to pull the moss from the lettering until it was once again revealed. The count stood motionless as you inspected your handy work.

"What was she like?" You asked as you took your place beside him.

"Wonderful. Gentle and kind, strong-willed. Intelligent... beautiful..." he trailed off.

You instinctively reached for his hand in an effort to soothe him but he flinched away from your touch.

"I imagine that you have many questions, I will answer them honestly," he said.

Despite the deliberate change of subject, he was right. The year of death on the stone read 1629 and yet, here he stood.

"How did you become... what you are?"

"If a vampire choses to, they may turn someone," he said, gravely.

"Do you know who created you?"

"No, I do not remember exactly how it happened. Only the gradual discovery of my curse after the fact."

"How did you know?"

"There were signs... but it is really what I did that forced the realisation..."

Seeing the terrible expression on his face, you decided not to tug on that particular thread any further.

"So everyone who is bitten turns into a vampire?"

"No, it is slightly more complicated than that. But I do not wish to talk about it. You need not know."

You couldn't help but feel hurt and a little angry at his response, it was the only time he had spoken to you in such a way and he had promised to be open to your questions. In an attempt to hide your frustration you announced that you were cold and headed back towards the castle. In a flourish of his soft cape, the count had grasped you by the hand and now stood before you, tall and imposing as ever. Startled you shrank back from his touch and he looked hurt by that response.

"Y/n I apologise, I did not mean to be so cold towards you, but there is much you do not know..."

"Then tell me, invite me into your world - don't keep me outside it, not when i've already had a glimpse," you demanded firmly, crossing your arms.

His dark eyes had taken on a softness as they searched your face for a moment. You took his cold hands into your own. You wanted him to hold you in his alabaster arms forever.

"You don't have to hide from me, I'm not afraid" you whispered.

"What I am... is a blessing... and a curse. To be around you is difficult, control is difficult... I..."

You moved a hand to caress his pale face and his eyes were filled with such sorrow it threatened to break your heart. He flinched at your touch and in an explosion of tiny flapping wings he was suddenly gone.

Continue to the next Chapter ⬇️

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gothic-aesthetic-gal · 3 years

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🦉𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔱 🦇

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

Warnings: Some mild violence and gore (in keeping with the level you might read in classic gothic literature)

🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

Chapter 9 - Unholy Communion

Finding wolfsbane had not been easy, indeed, it had taken you all night. When finally you did find some, clinging to a rocky outcrop on the fringes of the valley, the sun was about to rise. Folding you into his pale ashen cloak, Herbert flew you both back with mere minutes to spare before the suns rays began to poke above the clifs and flood the valley below with light.

Stumbling into the entrance hall and pausing for your head to stop spinning from the speed of the flight, you ran to the kitchen clutching the bundle of leafy stems. You set to boiling a large pan of water and grinding the soft parts of the plant into a paste with the pestle and mortar. Adding the paste to the boiling water to create a strange liquid not unlike absynthe in its appearance, you rushed it upstairs to the count.

He was lying motionless in the bed as Herbert sat anxiously in a nearby chair. Passing the glass to him, he attempted to get his father to drink it, which he did very slowly.

You knew now that you would have to wait to see if it had any effect. Herbert looked tired so you convinced him to go and rest at least for a short while and he left you alone with Krolock.

You fetched more of the liquid, in hopes that the more he drank the quicker it might heal him. He struggled to drink and could barely be roused from sleep, saying nothing coherent for a couple of hours. After a while he seemed to become ever so slightly more lucid.

"Y/n". He whispered

"Yes, i'm here." You said quickly taking his gaunt hand into your own.

As you did so you noticed faint dark lines on his palm. Tracing them up his arm, folding up the sleeve of his white shirt, you found the source. The bite was festering, raised teeth marks lined in purple and the black lines of capilaries fanned out like lightning around the wound. You thought again about what the book had said: the bite of the werewolf had posioned his blood. The wolfsbane would not work with this late stage of infection, unless...

a desperate thought lingered in your mind.

He groaned and his face twisted and crumpled in pain. You pushed your fear aside as best you could; he had risked his life to save yours. You returned to the kitchen and dipped the cup into the green mixture until it was full. Then you began to drink it and the bitter taste was like nettles. After drinking as much as you could, you returned to the room and sat beside the count.

He seemed to notice your presence, and turned his face toward you.

"Y/n, my time is near. I, I want you to know... I am so glad that you came here, I -"

"Shhhhh" you interrupted, "it's okay, it will be alright".

He seemed to know then what you intended to do and his eyes widened.

"No, you can't", he said struggling in an attempt to sit up.

"It will be okay." You replied, firmly.

"Y/n... please"

"Let me do this" you commanded, rolling up your own sleeve.

You cradled his head in your lap and took a deep breath. Then you pressed your arm to his mouth. At first he seemed to fight it, but it was not long before you felt the sharp pinch of two sharp teeth against your skin. In that moment you closed your eyes and focused on controlling your fear. Then there was a sudden jolt of pain as the teeth pierced the flesh, followed immediately by a strange rush of light-headed ecstasy.

Continue to the next Chapter ⬇️

#count von krolock #dance of the vampires #drew sarich #gothic literature #grafdrew #classic horror #le bal des vampires #tanz der vampire #vampires #vampcore #vampire fanfiction #tanz der vampire fanfiction #tanzblr #jan ammann #ivan ozhogin #musical fanfiction #musicals #gothic romance #gothic

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gothic-aesthetic-gal · 3 years

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🦉𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔱 🦇

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

Warnings: Some mild violence and gore (in keeping with the level you might read in classic gothic literature)

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Chapter 2 - A Stranger in a Strange Land

When you awoke, your eyes slowly began to adjust to the dim candle light. Confused and lost you felt the sensation of heavy sheets and became aware that you were in an enormous bed. It had a canopy draped with velvet and was made of dark old wood. Suddenly feeling uneasy and trapped, you fought to throw off the layers of sheets, discovering that you were dressed in a fine white nightclothes with lace trim. Where were your clothes? What was this place? You brought a hand to your head and quickly rediscovered your head injury with an involuntary cry of pain.

The room you were in was grand indeed but very old, with tapestries hanging from the walls, and dust in abundance. Crossing over to the casement window, the view of the forest and valley below finally revealed the answer to one of your questions. This was the castle you had ridden to - following - oh god! The coach had overturned. The memories came flooding back then and you went to clutch your rosary out of habit, only to find it gone.

Before you could discover anything further, you felt a sudden coldness, and a strange presence, as though you were no longer alone in the room.

"I am glad to see that you have stirred, but please, you should not stand, you have had quite the ordeal. You are injured".

The voice startled you and you whirled around to see where it had come from. There was in the room a tall, handsome gentleman with long black hair and grave countenance. The shadowy figure was dressed in very fine clothes and had a very pale completion. Not wanting to seem rude you stammered:

"P-pardon me, you startled me sir. I am quite confused".

"Please, do not be afraid. I did not mean to startle you. If you will, please sit."

He gestured to the bed.

You sat down and were grateful when he lit further candles, illuminating the room more brightly.

"Thank you for taking me in. I'm sorry for the intrusion but..."

"Your carriage overturned, we went in search of it to see whether there were any other victims" he said in a voice that was music to the ear.

"What did you find?"

"Only the driver, unfortunately he was beyond help... and your luggage" he gestured to a large chest and the suitcase and solitary hat box atop it.

"You have been most kind, and I am afraid I do not know what to do now".

"Oh you must stay a while, rest here. My son and I would be delighted to be of assistance and you simply cannot leave in such a state... nor without the proper transport arrangements - the forests around here are a dangerous place for travellers".

Reluctantly, but having little choice, you accepted his offer and decided not to tell him about your step-mother or your soon-to-be-husband lest he send for one of them.

"I am Count von Krolock, what is your name my dear?"

"I am (y/n)"

"(Y/n), how lovely. I do not often have the pleasure of visitors so you will have to forgive the dust - it is too large a castle for only one servant, but Koukol is all we have."

As he spoke you found yourself feeling drawn to him. His features were handsome indeed, if a little striking due to his ashen pallor. He was dressed in black with a button down coat of ruby red and he had about his shoulders a large velvet cape lined in red. In his eyes there was a profound sadness that seemed out of place in someone his age. You supposed that perhaps, like you, prolonged loneliness was his affliction but you did not want to give way to mere speculation. As you examined him, he too seemed to be taking you in and you wondered what he made of you, the strange young woman who had thrown herself at the gate, covered in mud.

"This castle is beautiful, and I am grateful for your hospitality, you are too kind to have taken me in. I hate to ask more of you but I am frightfully hungry. Might I have something to eat?"

"But of course, you have been unconscious for two days; you must be famished! If you will follow me I will have Koukol bring you something to eat and drink." He gestured with strangely long, pointed fingers for you to follow him and so you did.

You sat at an imposing dining table in a room with a stone floor and huge fire roaring in the hearth. The count sat with you while you ate but excused himself from eating on account of having eaten earlier. Koukol was, it seemed, afflicted by some terrible deformity, and you felt pity for him on account of how it affected his ability to move - everywhere he went he grunted and shuffled about with a lopsided lope. The count regarded you with a strange expression as you thanked his servant for the food.

Soon after you had eaten and drunk water and a little wine, a young gentleman appeared.

"(Y/n) this is my son Herbert"

Herbert bowed and with a flourish took your hand and kissed it.

"Enchanté"

You blushed a little at this and he smiled.

"You neglected to mention that our guest was so beautiful" he cooed, much to your embarassment.

"Whilst that is true, I believe you have matters to attend to elsewhere" said the count, and with that his son smiled and promptly left you alone once more.

"You agree that I'm beautiful?" You asked, bemused.

He smirked a little.

"Maybe so" he admitted.

You felt a little giddy hearing that and endeavoured to change the subject.

"I'm sorry to keep you up so late at night"

"I am a nightbird, I have long suffered from insomnia and am all too often rendered useless in the day"

"Oh. I'm sorry to hear that. I have always suffered from nightmares but my step-mother always insists that rising late is a sign of wickedness and indulgence..." you struggled to hide the bitterness in your tone.

You had not meant to mention her but it wad too late now.

"Your step-mother. Surely she will be anxious when she has not heard from you" he pressed with a raised eyebrow.

"I doubt it"

"Why is that?"

You sighed and did not know why, but something about the count made you want to tell him everything. All your secrets, not that you'd ever been given the chance to develop many.

"She sent me away. If it hadn't been for the money the match will secure, she'd have packed me off to the monastery as soon as father died"

He looked bemused.

"The match? Are you to be married?"

You nodded grimly.

"To a loathsome old toad it would seem".

He laughed a little at that.

"Are you going to send for them? Tell them what happened?"

"No" he replied resolutely.

You were relieved. The conviction in his voice made it easy to believe him and a part of you began to fancy that if you stayed a while you might begin to get close to him.

You began to feel overcome with tiredness; your head was throbbing again and the count seemed to notice the change in you.

"You are tired, you need rest to heal"

"Yes, I think I will retire to my room," you said, shakily rising from the table.

No more than a few steps and you suddenly felt overcome with a wave of diziness. Nausea crept up to meet you and the room seemed to spin as you stumbled on the flagstones for a moment then fell, weak at the knees. Before you even had the chance to cry out - sure that you were about to knock your head once again, you felt someone's arms around you. Despite your best attempts not to succumb to the sudden pull of unconsciousness, you knew it wouldn't be long until it won. Already unable to see clearly the only thing you were aware of was being smoothly swept into the arms of the count as he carried your limp form to your room. Lifting you seemed to be no source of exertion to him and he carried you as though you were an Autumn leaf on a gentle breeze.

Laying you gently down upon the bed he seemed to linger over you for a moment, and it might have been the head injury but you thought you felt his breath on your neck for the briefest of moments. Then he was gone in an instant and you slipped into the darkness.

To the next Chapter ⬇️

29 notes · View notes

gothic-aesthetic-gal · 3 years

Text

🦉𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔱 🦇

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

Warnings: Some mild violence and gore (in keeping with the level you might read in classic gothic literature)

⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰

Chapter 5 - Bisclavret

As you heaved open the castle's heavy front door a blast of icy air and a flurry of snowflakes were blown into the entrance hall. Fighting the elements, you struggled across the bridge and out through the open gates into darkness of the forest. Swept up by panic, you were not thinking of the dangers outside the castle, only the strange events within.

Under the watchful eye of a full moon you ran through the snow as fast as your feet could carry you. The trees were silent sentinels on all sides and the night was still now. You had been running for almost half an hour before you finally slowed to a stop to suck in many haggard breaths; pure adrenaline could only take you so far and now your energy was utterly spent.

After several minutes of recovery, just as you were about to press on, there came a sound from deep within the forest. A sound which made all the hairs on your body stand upright and your chest tighten. It was a howl, but not like that of the wolf pack - this was different, infinitely more guttural and wild somehow. It spoke of bloodlust and a desire to utterly destroy. Clutching your suitcase tightly you tried not to think about what might await you in the woods and only about escaping the count.

Finally, you reached a clearing in the forest, which gave you a hillside view down over the valley. The sight of the faint glow of the village beacon and snow topped roofs of a cluster of small houses warmed your heart and brought a sense of relief. The sleepy cluster of houses was still a good distance away though and your celebration was premature.

The sound of breaking branches at the edge of the clearing caught your attention and you spun around to try and pinpoint the source of the noise. The trunks of the trees were totally obscured by shadow, despite the bright moonlight, and it was impossible to see back into the forest. Then you saw something in the darkness - a large pair of glistening eyes. Red eyes that danced with hellfire and hatred. Fear filled your body and you froze as a nightmare stepped out of the darkness. It was part man, part-wolf, and possessed all the worst parts of both. Its shaggy fur was spotted with crimson blood and in its slavering jaws was the head of a stag. It looked right at you, across the short white expanse of the snowy clearing, and dropped the remnants of its prey. Standing for a moment on two legs it howled that same blood curdling howl and leapt forward. Bounding on all fours it came for you. You turned and ran but the snow was deep and you could hear its footfall and hot breath only a few paces behind you now. Under the snowcover your foot wedged itself under a root and tripped you.

Struggling in the snow you only had time to turn onto your back before it was upon you. It stood over you, its rancid breath hit your face and enormous teeth were inches from your face. The terrible eyes promised complete destruction. You couldn't help but scream.

Just as the beast drew back its head, jaws widening, something barreled into it from the side, knocking it over. Scrambling in the snow you saw a tumble of black leathery wings and the moonlight glinting off the awful teeth of the wolf man. There was growling and yelping and then, as soon as it began, the fight was over.

The winged creature, like some sort of giant bat, seemed to shrink into the upright shadow of a man and when he turned to face you, you recognised the face of Count Krolock.

Continue to next Chapter ⬇️

#tanz der vampire fanfiction #tanz der vampire #tanzblr #graf von krolock #grafdrew #drew sarich #herbert von krolock #krolock #krolockxreader #count von krolock #musical fanfiction #musicals #vampire #vampcore #vampire romance #gothic romance #gothic literature #gothic

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gothic-aesthetic-gal · 3 years

Text

🦉𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔱 🦇

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

Warnings: Some mild violence and gore (in keeping with the level you might read in classic gothic literature)

🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴🦴

Chapter 11 - A Visitor

You were so close to one another now. You glared up at the count as his stormy eyes were locked upon yours.

With a sudden jolt he pulled you in to his embrace. He tilted your head up towards his own with a cold hand. Your breath hitched in your throat as you leaned in closer, closing your eyes.

At prescisely this inopportune time, Koukol burst through the door. Startled, you both parted and looked to see why he had come crashing into the room. Krolock, who was evidently much less than impressed, glared at his servant.

"Do you not know better than to enter without knocking?"

Koukol groaned and pointed fervently to the window. You crossed over to it, and peeked through the curtains at the castle's entrance below. There was a carriage outside, and an ornately decorated one at that. The rising steamy breath of the four elegant horses curled into clouds from their flaring nostrils and the driver dismounted. You hurriedly beckoned the Count to come and observe the spectacle and his frustration quickly turned to intrigue.

"Who is it?" you asked.

"I do not know" he muttered, and then he was no longer at your side.

Travelling at a mortal pace, you rushed after Koukol, out into the hallway and toward the staircase, coming to a stop at the top step and listening intently.

Koukol shuffled hurriedly down the steps to join his master in the grand entrance hall and you decided to descend a little further. You ducked down to sit on a step and peer between the stone columbs where you could not be seen, watching as Koukol heaved open the enormous wooden door. A man with a silver topped cane which tapped against the stonework stepped in from the night. Your heart froze in your chest as you realised why he seemed familiar to you. It was the rich Duke to whom you had been 'advantageously' matched by your step-mother.

"Good evening sir, my humblest apologies for arriving without invitation," the man began. He seemed to catch sight of Koukol at this moment and his words failed to arrive for a moment as he seemed flustered.

"...but I have come in search of my dear fiancée. She went missing in this area well over a month ago now and I fear the worst."

In truth, it was far more likely he had been too busy alternating between gambling and entertaining prostitutes to notice your absence until a week before the wedding. You rolled your eyes in disgust at his pretences of concern.

"How unfortunate... you have come to me to ask if I have seen her?" Said Krolock in his silkiest of voices, he too could feign concern.

"Indeed, I was told by some villagers that they had chanced upon the wreck of a carriage after a great storm. They reported to have found the driver's body but not that of the young lady nor her possessions..." he said, unable to hide an accusational smirk.

"I did indeed offer her shelter after the accident, but that was some weeks ago and I regret to inform you that she has since departed".

"Where, precisely, did she go?" The duke asked idignantly, failing to maintain his collected façade.

"I am not sure, she would not disclose her destination to me. I hate to be of so little help to you..." Krolock professed in a mournful tone placing a hand over his chest as though it pained him greatly.

You could not help but grin a little upon seeing this.

"You are quite sure?" pressed the disgruntled duke.

"Completely." Krolock smiled, swiftly ushering him back outside.

You watched them disappear out of sight as the count walked him back to his carriage, listening intently but failing to catch any futher verbal exchange between the two.

"Who was that?" came a voice remarkably close on your left.

You jumped and almost overbalanced, teetering on the step for a moment until a strong arm pulled you back.

"Apologies, I forget how easy your kind are to startle," Herbert said with a smirk.

"Only because your kind have less than the normal healthy amount of respect for personal space," you shot back jokingly.

He raised an eyebrow at this.

"He certainly looked wealthy, four fine horses... what was he doing out here?"

"That's the duke to whom I am, unwillingly, engaged to be married. He was looking for me," you admitted in a hushed tone.

Herbert looked pointedly at you then.

"And you're planning on hiding from him here forever, are you?"

"No... well, I don't know. Your father hasn't handed me over to him, for which I am incredibly grateful."

Herbert outstretched his arm, his frilled sleeve cuff falling as he did so, and inspected his nails.

"You don't like the idea of being well kept, with jewels, fine clothes, and a maid to do the housework?"

"Not if it means I'm married to someone so vile, I'd probably end up dying of syphilis if I wed him. Besides he's drinking his fortune away, that's why he needs to marry me. My father had considerable investments."

Herbert looked shocked by your candidness and let out a slight startled laugh.

"Not to mention that his face looks like rear end of a baboon," he added.

Now it was you who was shocked, stiffling a snort.

"Well as much as his age and appearance leave to be desired, worse by far is that he's cruel".

Hearing the familiar clatter of horses hooves and the crack of the coachmans whip, you both stood up to full height again. Herbert looked you up and down for a moment.

"As far as humans go, you're bearable. I'd hate for you to be consigned to such a fate as to marry him. Besides, you're too pretty."

Before you could thank him for his uncharacteristically kind words, he added:

"If only you knew how to wear your hair".

You smiled.

"Perhaps you could show me."

"Perhaps."

As Krolock reappeared in the hallway, he looked up at the both of you standing on the staircase with a concerned expression.

"Is something wrong?"

You shared a look with the beautiful blonde vampire and laughed a little.

"We do talk to one another on occaision you know..." you replied.

"She's not wholly unbearable... in small doses." Herbert added, with an animated swish of his wrist.

Continue to the next Chapter ⬇️

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gothic-aesthetic-gal · 3 years

Text

🦉𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔱 🦇

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

Warnings: Some mild violence and gore (in keeping with the level you might read in classic gothic literature)

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Chapter 8 - Nightingale

It had been five whole nights since you had last seen the count, and you spent the time restlessly. At least now Herbert had returned, he occupied you with tales of Vienna and Prague and other such wonderous cities.

The sun had not long set when there came a knock at your bedchamber door. Opening it you saw Herbert.

"Father is ill" he said blankly.

"But I thought..."

"And you are right, we do not suffer from human diseases... but something is not right and I do not know what"

You took a moment to process what he had said before asking to be taken to him. Tonight the count indeed looked feverish, weak even and Herbert was visibly worried. At your behest he had helped him up the stairs to the bed which you had begun to think of as yours. The thick curtains were drawn fast so the daylight could not enter come day break and, unsure what else to do you fetched a damp cloth and used cold water to dab at his face in an effort to soothe him.

He had not said a word until you turned to leave.

"Y/n, please sit by me for while" he managed in a raspy voice.

You looked to Herbert and he nodded approvingly.

"I will be in the library looking for information as to what afflicts him so," he said, wringing his hands.

Taking a seat upon the bed next to Krolock, you reached for his hand. He didn't seem to have the energy to shrink back from your touch any longer, so you gently tucked his hair away from his face and folded the sheets gently over his body.

"Why... are you so kind to me?" He asked with a strained voice.

You laughed a little at the question.

"You saved me, besides... I care about you very much, I have a- a fondness for you".

You felt the hot warm rush of blood to your face as you blushed a little at being so candid. He turned his face away.

You felt a swell of embarassment.

"I have overstepped, you do not feel the same way -" you began.

"No, no. It isn't that. I care about you also, but I can hear your blood rushing, your heart beating, its -"

Relieved and preoccupied with the feelings of private joy that your affections were returned, you were not thinking about the implications of his other confession. When finally you thought about it, you did not know how to react.

"I can leave, if that is what you want?" You asked.

"No, please. It will be okay the moment has passed."

He turned to face you once more and you continued to dab the sweat from his brow.

"Is there anything I can do to ease your pain?"

"Will you sing to me?" He asked in a voice like the dry rustle of autumn leaves.

Desperately searching for something to sing to him, you settled on what few verses you could remember of a song your father had sung on occaision.

"Come live with me and be my love,

And we will all the pleasures prove

That hill and valley, dale and field,

And all the craggy mountains yield.

There we will sit upon the rocks,

And see the shepherds feed their flocks,

By shallow rivers to whose falls

Melodious birds sing madrigals..."

"My sweet nightingale..." he murmured as he seemed to drift into a deep sleep.

Leaving him to rest, you went to join Herbert in the Library. Later, you both sat staring despairingly and the hundreds of open books around you on the library floor. None of them had yielded the answers you sought.

"Is he... going to die?" You asked, your breath catching in your throat.

"I do not know", he answered resting his head on his hands.

Wanting to reassure him you moved to place a hand gently on his shoulder.

"He is strong, I am sure he can overcome it. He fought a werewolf and killed it, he saved my life twice."

"He did what?" Herbert asked sharply recoiling.

You looked on bewildered by his extreme reaction.

"One of the wolf men, in the forest".

A torrent of emotions seemed to run across Herbert's face including grief and rage and he grabbed for one of the books nearby. Flicking aggressively through the yellowed pages he seemed to find what he was searching for and read aloud.

"If the garwaf bites a vampyr it will poison his foul blood".

Krolock must have been bitten during the fight, he'd risked death to save you and was about to pay dearly for it. You gasped.

"There must be a cure!"

Herbert was frantically reading further.

"It suggests that wolfsbane may help with werewolf bites in humans but they would not specify about us, on the grounds that they consider us as much a threat as the wolf men."

"Then we will find some. We have to try."

"If he dies because he wanted to save a human... ah, mon dieu!"

Feeling hurt by his comment but not having the time to waste you tore the page with the illustration of the plant straight from the open book and stormed towards the entrance to the castle.

"Y/n it is dangerous out there! He did not save you so that you might foolishly waltz into your death tonight."

"Then come with me!" You shouted back.

In a flourish, he was beside you, as you both set out into the cold night.

Continue to the next Chapter ⬇️

#count von krolock #tanz der vampire fanfiction #tanz der vampire #tanzblr #drew sarich #ivan ozhogin #kevin tarte #fillippo strocchi #classic horror #gothic romance #gothic literature #dance of the vampires #grafdrew #le bal des vampires #vampires #vampcore #vamplove #vampire fanfiction

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