Tumgik
#vlad visage
legaciestold · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
dynamic edits (incorrect quotes)
vlad dracula (@everythingheard), mina dracula (@legaciestold), claudia van helsing (@legaciestold), & robert renfield (@renfie1ds)
6 notes · View notes
mazamba · 9 months
Text
"You need what?"
"I know it's a lot to ask," cut in Danny before Batman could go from confused to angry, "Just let me explain. I swear it's for a good reason."
Batman eyed his teammate skeptically. King Phantom was one of the League's newest and youngest members. Despite his unorthodox introduction to the team, he and his sister, Stray, had proven to be valuable additions to the Justice League and to the Teen Titans respectively. He was tall and imposing, despite his relatively slender frame. His visage was made the more menacing by the Crown of Fire that hovered above his head in a tiny version of the Aurora Borealis instead of his predecessor's green flames, the royal armor over his jumpsuit, and the fur-trimmed coat made of a rippling window into space.
"Ok, so you know how Bruce Wayne adopted Cassandra Cain, but she's David Cain's biological daughter, right?"
"..."
"...right! So, at some point, David sold human eggs on the black market," he continued, "you have no idea how hard it was to get the information on Vlad's supplier, but we did figure out that he bought the eggs from Cain for his experiments and then completely messed up the cloning process."
"How?"
"We have no idea! But my clone, my sister, has my ghost DNA, but part of mine and someone else's human DNA."
"What makes you think it's Cassandra's?"
He pulled out his phone, a two-year-old model with a cracked screen, and showed him the face of his sixteen-year-old sister in her human form next to a picture of Bruce's own eighteen-year-old daughter from a tabloid.
"She looks a lot like me," he admitted, "but she also looks a lot like Cassandra Cain, so we think Vlad got a sample mixed up or forgot to take out a nucleus or something and made-."
"A daughter instead of a clone."
It was a good thing Phantom wasn't particularly good at reading body language, or his tightening fist might've alerted him that something was wrong.
"I mean... sort of? It's different with clones. She's technically my daughter but I turned nineteen, like, a month ago, so I don't thi- I'm getting off track! The point is, Dani's destabilizing again and I need a clean DNA sample to help her. I tried to get into Wayne manor, but the place is warded to hell and back. You know Bruce Wayne, right? Can you help me talk with Cassandra?"
Batman sighed and turned his head to Phantom's right.
"Orphan."
"Motherfu-! How long has she been standing there!?"
She didn't respond to his yelp/question and instead turned to Batman.
"Take a tube to Gotham and ask Cassandra Wayne for a DNA sample."
Orphan nodded and walked off to the tubes.
"... Is it just me or was she a little quieter than usual?"
Bruce sighed, not looking forward to whatever his week was about to become.
4K notes · View notes
wonderhevrts · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
0 notes
Text
Revenant!Jazz thoughts Pt.2
Continuing from this post
This time, I’m thinking about Vlad and his reaction to all this. In the show he doesn’t particularly seem to care about Jazz in any way, probably because of his hyper focus on Danny and Maddie. I doubt he’s registered Jazz as a threat of any kind, much less to him.
If Danny winds up Bat-dopted, Jason or classic “Bruce stole another one” and the news catches wind of the new Wayne, Vlad would be livid. Danny is supposed to be his son afterall, doesn’t matter that it was Maddie who severely wounded her own son.
In the midst of Rogues dropping like flies, Jazz sets a trap for Vlad by baiting him with Danny. Her brother is never in danger, not with her around and certainly not with the bat family lurking nearby, but Vlad cannot help himself- he tries to kidnap Danny by overshadowing the adoptive parent. Jazz allows it to happen only until Vlad takes Danny out of the public eye, then straight up punches Vlad out of the person he’s overshadowing, sucking him up into a thermos she stole from the GIW and throwing it into an abyss.
Tumblr media
Wouldn’t someone recognize Jazz then?
Beyond the walking dead look that came free with reanimating, Jazz walks, talks and looks completely different then she was in life. Memories shape us and without most of hers Jazz wouldn’t be quite the same anymore. Where she once walked with a relaxed gait and a calm demeanor, as a Revenant Jazz masters the murder strut, because that’s pretty much the only thought going through her head on a constant loop….Other than ‘make Danny Safe’ of course.
Who killed Jazz? (Asked by @someonebored0100 )
Originally I was thinking it would be either the Fenton parents in the GAV or the GIW, but then a delicious angst idea popped into my head….
Batman chasing down Joker led to him slamming into Jazz’s car, which resulted in her death and a new son for him to care for….
Batman says nothing when he brings in Danny, marks down Jazz’s death as a murder and does not go out as Batman again for a week.
Was Jazz autopsied?
Thee death rate in Gotham must be higher than any other city in the world, so the coroners embody (pun not intended) the phrase “overworked and underpaid”.
So no, she wasn’t autopsied, but they did make record of the punctured artery and removed the shrapnel by request of Batman for testing.
What happened after Jazz’s body disappeared from the Crematorium?
Bruce Wayne paid for the cremation personally, so it’s understandable the mortician would be Panicking at the very likely notion that someone stole a dead body paid to be cremated and sealed into an urn by Bruce Fucking Wayne.
If the mortician cremates an unclaimed body and slaps the wrong name on it, we’ll, add it to the list of morally questionable things he’s done as a mortician in a Gotham.
Thoughts about Jason’s reaction to a true Revenant?
Her veiny visage, with the broken sclera and eyes that seem to absorb light and give none back, horrifies Jason to the bone. Did he look like that when he dug himself out of his grave? Did the Pits actually do him a favor? It makes him wanna puke just thinking about how accurate his zombie jokes could have been… then makes him swear to stop telling those same jokes because clearly he’s no longer one of the walking dead if he looks better than this dead woman who looks just… horrifying.
Though once Jazz kills the Joker in the same way the clown killed Jason, he seeks out the Revenant and after doing some digging… swears to do whatever he can for her.
If this is Dad!Jason, then he’s very upset for Danny and Jazz’s tragic history.
No hardcover pairing this time?
Maybe? Doubtful, but it could happen. I don’t think it should though.
Does Jazz have a vigilante persona in this one?
Hmm, not exactly. She’s not tying to hide anything, definitely not her less than living appearance. She wears boots, a canvas jacket, jeans and gun holsters with hair that looks like a drunk toddler attacked it with dull scissors.
She doesn’t save anyone, not directly, but ending the rogues that killed so many earns her the name “Reaper” and it sticks.
What’s Danny’s reaction to all this?
We all know about the dark timeline that resulted from The Ultimate Enemy, Dan.
The Fenton parents are still hunting him down, Sam and Tucker are trying to move to Gotham, he’s been adopted by a Kevlar-clad billionaire furry who acts like a himbo with way too much ease for it to be all an act. He’s got a home that’s not an active threat to his afterlife and the food is the farthest thing from radioactive.
(Alfred Pennyworth nearly had a heart attack at the mere thought of a child eating radioactive food and that a piece of toast on his plate was a punishment.)
But… Jazz is dead.
It’s true that they hadn’t had the best relationship for the last few years, especially after his accident, but Jazz had become his rock. Sam and Tucker were his best friends, but they had no real idea what it was like to grow up a Fenton. Sure they had some context clues (was the giant portal entrance with the on-button inside not a giant warning sign?), but Jazz had kept him alive even as a kid herself.
She worked herself to the bone to make sure he had food to eat, some hours to sleep at night, and a shoulder for him to put some of the burden on her as Phantom. In the end, she hurt their parents to get him out of the lab and away from them.
She had died trying to get him to safety.
He’d seen her car, the wreck, the blood, the still radioactive substance he called his blood… he sat in the driver’s seat and cried for his sister- he wanted Jazz to tease him and call him ‘little brother’ again.
Sure, he had Cass now and several brothers, but nothing could ever replace Jazz.
It’s the thought that Jazz would be upset with him that keeps Danny from turning by his grief into a ghostly wail, to wreck everything and everyone.
Then he meets the Reaper. And he knows.
“Little Brother.”
/////////////////////////
What about the ending for Jazz you talked about?
That’s gonna be in another post, this one was getting long enough as is.
Tumblr media
174 notes · View notes
cas-backwards-tie · 2 months
Text
Under The Moonlight
Vladimir Makarov x Reader
Summary: You think the Commander hates your taste in music. Why is he so judgmental about what you listen to in your free time? Turns out... maybe you were caught up on the wrong thing.
Words: 2.3k
Warnings: (Vlad should probably be a warning in of itself), Passive-Aggressiveness? , Spying, Grabbing,
A/N: Ugh... I love (and hate) this song bc it gets stuck in my head so easily and it gives me such fantasy vibes. I can't help but imagine wedding vibes and him with this song every listen. btw put two diff versions in links bc those are 2/3 that I have and listen to.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
"You know Arabic?" He'd asked. The first time he'd stumbled upon you listening to the song, more than curious when you'd also been singing along. With a shake of your head and a slight smile of embarrassment simultaneously dusting your cheeks with blush, this only makes his eyebrows furrow. "Then how do you know the words?"
The laugh that tumbles past your lips does nothing but further turn up the heat on the already boiling frustration and inconsequential meltdown that will no doubt later take place. "By listening to it," you answer, an inkling of a smile returning in spite of his fury, "over, and over... and over again."
With an annoyed puff of breath you know he's done with you, about to make his leave. "Why?" You ask. For once, you've swapped places as your curious eyes seek out his form.
"Because it would be useful information to know." Ever the cryptic, of course that's all he leaves you with before turning his back to you, arms crossed over his chest as he exits the room.
The second time he hears the song, he's in between meetings. It's one of those rare days where he has a little free time, not that he knows how to spend that sort of thing anymore. Having entered the library, he can hear the radio playing the Arabic song once more. Your voice joins it, again, and Vladimir finds himself subtly eyeing his surroundings as the corners of his lips twitch, tugging at a smile.
He schools himself, able to keep himself in line. While the bookshelves keep him out of view and no one's in the vicinity, he quietly strolls through the stacks, hand grazing the many novels. It seems that now you've been here longer, you're starting to get more comfortable. Even if your voice isn't the loudest, the quiet nature of a library certainly doesn't help as it carries your voice, he's sure, outdoors to the nearby stationed guards.
Once he's around the nearest bookshelf, he peeks far enough just to see your visage. From this, alone, can he paint a picture. Hand still on the page, he imagines you'd been reading, the radio on quietly as background noise, no doubt something you've continued to use since you've yet to get used to the quietness his climate provides. Thus, the radios around the Compound offer solace. He's noticed you around them often. In your focus amidst the book, you'd been distracted by the song, a familiar tune on the radio beckoning your attention. Of course, not being one to resist temptation, you couldn't resist turning it up and singing along.
He can't deny you're awful. Otherwise, he'd probably have to shoot you. It'd grow to be a nuisance, really... and dangerous, a warning signal no doubt. Yet, there's an innocence about you when you sing. Mocha-colored eyes roam your features as he watches, mesmerized, your eyes closed, as your upper body moves to the music from your chair. The smile that graces your lips is one to remember, and it's one that has him equally awed, and yet... in amusement.
"You really don't understand?" With a swift turn, Vladimir reveals himself from the bookshelves, his hands clasped behind his back casually. The gasp and jump that he'd elicited from you does nothing more than garner a chuckle from him.
"Why do you care?" You ask, hand still resting on your heart as you attempt to catch your breath. Staring at him with wild eyes, it boggles you, the way you feel like he's asked you this before. It takes a moment, as it's been at least a month or so, but you remember that he has. He's asking again. "It's not like you know," you tease, poking him back. If there's anything you'd learned early on, and he'd learned about you... it's that you love to play with Vladimir by matching fire with fire. And, equally, he too, loves to do so.
"Actually, I do, любимая," he quips. With slow and calculated steps he begins approaching the table, eyes raking over you once and then twice. "and I don't! I can assure you. I only find it amusing how you seem more than content to sing something which could mean anything... according to you."
While he stops to close the book atop your hand, inspecting the spine and choice of leisure, you suspect. You place your hand atop his, afraid he's going to take the book. It's only when he meets your gaze briefly, long enough to narrow eyes at you before immediately departing for the door a few feet behind you. "Wait!" You call after him. Turning in your seat, a hand comes up to rest against the bulbous ear of the chair; thudding boots abruptly come to a halt as the Commander stops, albeit he doesn't turn around. "What does it mean, then?" You ask, words getting quieter as you start to lose confidence the further the moment continues.
"I'm sure you'd love to know." That's all he leaves you with. Dissatisfied and annoyed with the pettiness and childlike behavior the Commander can sometimes exhibit, you ignore him whenever you can. After all, while he may have originally intrigued you, whatever curiosity you had is not worth whatever outcome you receive in the aftermath of one of his moods.
When you finally find out what the song means, it's at a moment you were completely unexpecting it. After a successful mission, you'd all celebrated by building a big bonfire at camp, sitting around after dinner, sharing stories, and drink. It's not every day you get to let loose, and while normally there's a fairly tight schedule to work around, you know better to take advantage of a free day when you can. With this in mind, you drink to your heart's content. After all, it's on the Commander, right? Listening to the stories, your head leans back against the wooden makeshift benches as your eyes find the bright stars above.
It may be an effortless attempt to map them out, or mentally draw out the constellations you know, but as you listen to the jokes, the stories, songs, and laugh along, it isn't until there's a momentary silence that you finally raise your head again. Scanning around the fire, you notice that everyone's gone to bed, it seems. And sure, while it's been a long day and it'd been getting late, you didn't think everyone would've left so soon. Yet, your eyes are drawn to the only other pair you see, staring at you from a few feet to your right. The last person left at the fire.
"You're not tired?" He asks, and it's weird. It's like there's no mask up this time. You're not sure if it's the alcohol playing tricks on you right now, or if you're really hearing him correctly, but he almost sounds... genuine.
Head leant back against the wood once again, you let it loll to the right, finally able to meet his gaze. The flames make his eyes shine brightly, his features illuminated in a fiery glow. His hair is slightly amess, some strands not falling in the same direction as the wind has blown them around. Nose and jaw sharply outlined by the shadows of the night, you can't help but feel warmth, and not because you're both sitting right in front of the fire. Eyes having roamed his features, they finally meet his again as he turns his gaze from the fire once more to you, clearly anticipating an answer.
With a shake of your head, you do nothing to stop the way your lashes slowly flutter, the mere thought and mention of sleep threatening. As you lift the bottle in your hands to your lips again, wanting to finish the last little fifth or sixth of drink left in it, you're met with a disgruntled hum. "I think you've had enough."
The words should be a warning to you. A loud and clear signal as to what was about to happen, and yet you hadn't put two and two together in your intoxicated state of mind. "Mm-mm. 'Slmost finished," you manage to slur out. Lifting the bottle again, Vladimir is quick to stand, closing the space between you as he snatches it out of your hand and tosses it into the fire. The glass breaks, flames fanning higher momentarily as he reaches under your armpits and lifts you up. There isn't much of a struggle considering you can't put up much of a fight in your state.
"It's time you get some sleep," he states, wrapping an arm around your back as he attempts to guide you to a tent. He guides you outside of the fire circle until you don't move. And while he's a strong man, perhaps it's the drink, or he doesn't know what, but you're being as stubborn as a rock.
"What's it mean?" You ask. This takes him aback; the Commander knows you're not ignorant, and while you may be drunk, there's certainly no way that vodka, or any sort of liquor no matter the quantity is capable of erasing such a simple fact as the meaning of sleep. While he takes a step back, eyes beginning to search for signs of injury, it isn't until he follows your gaze that he understands.
Albeit the distant snoring, the wind, the roaring fire, and crunching of both your boots, he hadn't realized. It was quiet, the radio on the other side of the firepit. The device had been left on, and while the two of you had stayed awake he hadn't paid too much mind to it, yet now he can't help but smile. Of course, of course of all moments this song would play. Right now.
"You really want to know?" Vladimir asks, not backing away as he towers over you, eyes meeting your face in the darkness as he waits for your attention to find him again. After all, perhaps with the way he's been the one to hear you all these little times, maybe... just maybe it could be a sign.
Ridiculous, of course. That's what he told himself for months now, too good to be true. He knows what he's done... what he's had to do. What he will do and must, not just for himself but for his people, for the planet, in order to not only survive, but bring the world to a state that will be beneficial for all. Nevertheless, they always say there's a price one must pay for such deeds. He knows this true... and while he might have dreamt at times of other lives and wanted for other things, those boy's dreams were crushed long ago.
That was... until the radio started playing that song only moments ago. As he scans your face, eager and almost impatient for you to turn your eyes on him, when you do, it's not what he expects. The scoff that meets him leaves him taken aback. Met with an eye roll, and an attempt to walk past him. He knows. He knows he can be rough, and while it might be harsh he grabs your arm and keeps you from walking any further away. Whatever prize he thinks he's found, whatever omen, sign, or soul tie... he's not letting this go. He's not letting you go.
"I know you're just gonna trick me again, okay?" While other times he might be delighted to hear that you think he'd play games with you, nothing but stoicism sits on his features.
Bringing you in close, he searches your eyes as he whispers. "The love words of his eyes are sweeter than songs." Vladimir cautiously places a hand on your waist, the one holding your arm releasing its grip as it slides up to rest on your shoulder. "From a couple of words, from a greeting, I become someone else. When he sways, my heart sways with him. I may sacrifice my eyes and whole life for him, and it's too little." He repeats the words, the two of you gently swaying in the moonlit camp as the music quietly accompanies him in the background through the aged radio.
"My night, oh, night, my night." It feels as if with each passing moment his voice somehow gets quieter and quieter if that was even possible, yet you're already so impossibly close. "Oh night, my night, his love makes the night longer. The love of years between him and I. Just one more step, my heart, it's not a fantasy." Your noses just barely brush against each other, breath mingling in the space between you.
"My soul just go with him and get lost in his beauty. His covets the magic of life, his charm extraordinary. The one whose eyes the moon envied. The smile is the shining sun." There's no denying the heat between you, the tension thick in the minimal space between you, both of your eyes closed as you revel in this moment. Yet, he knows he shouldn't. You wish he would. As the song comes to an end on the radio, he's the first to open his eyes, eager to watch your open yours. As you do, it's the same happiness and adoration that he's seen you with on your expression even when you had no idea what the song had meant.
You might not have known what it meant... but something about the vocals and the expression of the song had just given you the sense that it had been about exactly everything Vladimir had just described to you. "Thank you," you whisper, not quite ready to leave this moment. Not ready to leave his arms.
Zziiippp!!!
The sound of a tent opening nearby causes both of you to distance yourselves, something within each of you sobering up instantly. While, sure, he's the Commander and can have anything he wants... you both know things are better this way.
____________
translations:
любимая = loved one / darling / lovely
forever taglist: @safarigirlsp , @jynzandtonic , @moonlightsolo ,@ohdamnadam
76 notes · View notes
talzane · 1 year
Text
Instead of, "asking a ghost how they died is very rude," what if, "asking a ghost how they died gives them free license to make you live through the experience, feeling every bit of horror and pain they felt with none of the context?"
So, for example, in DP x DC fics where Batman inevitably asks that tasteless question, he basically gets tortured for curiosity...you might even say, "curiosity killed the Bat." Except he didn't actually die, he just experienced every visceral detail of the death minus the context/information surrounding who the ghost was and what they saw.
Or when Maddie and Jack find out Danny is Phantom, they ask how he died, and then get to experience it...and live with the horror of knowing they did that to their child.
When Jack asks Vlad how Vlad could hate him so much for accidentally making him a half-ghost, Vlad smiles, "Are you asking how I died, Jack?"
Jack, who had already asked Danny, met Vlad's eyes, "That I am, V-man," Jack's face hardened like granite, "How did you die?"
Vlad's hand extended as his face twisted with sadistic glee, "Let me show you, *Jackie*." As his hand took hold of Jack's arm, Jack's face fell slack before twisting into grief, through pain, betrayal, depression, hatred, and eventually, despair. Tears spilled from Jack's empty eyes as Vlad's lengthy torment played through his mind like a feverish nightmare.
Vlad watched Jack's face transition from emotion to emotion, intermitten sobs and weak, angry breaths wrung themselves from his frame until eventually there was no more to feel. Jack's eyes focused on some distant point as the tears continued to run down his face. "See, Jack? It's all; Your; FAULT! *You* took everything from me! *YOU* left me! You *abandoned* me! *You* took *Maddie* from me! Because of you, I lost *everything!*"
Jack's glistening visage turned to Vlad with heartbreak written clear in his big, blue eyes, "I've always been your friend, Vladdie. Always. What was I supposed to do? You weren't taking visitors. When we snuck in, you weren't conscious. You were..."
Vlad's smile returned, *this is it*, "I was *what*, Jack?"
"Screaming in your sleep." Vlad stiffened, "Sufferin' spooks, I- I- I couldn't watch you slip away like that, Vlad. I...couldn't remember you like that. You always cared about your image, and I didn't want to ruin it," Jack tapped his head, "up here. I'm so sorry, Vlad." The big man buried his head in his hands, "I couldn't let you die here, too."
382 notes · View notes
ashspecter · 1 month
Note
Hey there! I took me a bit but I picked out another writing prompt idea. No AGIT spoilers here!
His evil future counterpart escaping the thermos is the stuff of Danny’s nightmares, and to his terror, it eventually happens. Except the last thing this Phantom seems to remember is Vlad putting him to sleep with promises to take the pain away.
Thank you so much for the request (and for no spoilers)! I appreciate it!
Summary:
When Danny’s evil future self escapes the thermos, he fears the worst. However, something happens and Danny finds himself face-to-face with a fractured version of himself in need of a second chance.
Words: 1944 Read on Ao3 or below the cut!
Second Chances
He had known this moment would come, dreaded it even, yet he couldn’t deny the surge of adrenaline that coursed through him as his worst fear unfolded before his eyes. The eerie green mist unfurls from the thermos, coiling and billowing like serpentine tendrils. It makes his race with a mixture of dread and anticipation. His future counterpart, a twisted and malevolent version of himself, breaks free from the confines of the thermos.
The chill that runs down his spine seems to seep into his very soul as he watches the spectral form take shape within the swirling mist. His snow-white hair, tied back into a ponytail, flickers with an otherworldly flame causing a striking contrast against his pale blue skin and his eyes burn with a fiery red intensity. Pointed ears, sharp fangs, and a goatee complete his visage, each feature a twisted reflection of Danny’s own. This is the embodiment of all his fears and insecurities, a twisted reflection of what he would have become if Clockwork never stepped in to help him fix his mistake.
As Danny gazes upon his future self, he can’t help but feel a sense of dread settle in the pit of his stomach. He feels nauseous. The thermos is only a few feet away. If he could get to it, he can seal away this monster-version of himself. But he can’t seem to move.
Dan blinks, then squints. A look of confusion and bewilderment that washes over his face, startling Danny even more somehow. Does he know where he is? Does he remember being sealed away?
There’s no trace of themalicious grin Danny had anticipated and his eyes seem to lose their intensity as the Phantom’s posture slackens. He looks tired and almost as though he’s awakening from a long slumber— a stark contrast to the cunning and calculated demeanor that Danny had remembered seeing when he first faced this brute.
The Phantom’s movements are hesitant, as if he’s trying to make sense of his surroundings and grasping for fragmented memories that slip through his spectral fingers like trickling water. Danny knits his brows together as he studies his once formidable adversary. Is this the same benevolent being he fought all those months ago? It can’t be. He appears almost… vulnerable. 
A pang of empathy tugs at Danny’s conscience as his heart pounds in his ears. Despite the havoc and destruction his future self had caused, there’s a part of Danny that can’t help but see the lost and tormented soul trapped within the ghostly shell before him. Yet, even as compassion flickers within him, Danny understands the danger of underestimating this foe. Whatever vulnerabilities the Phantom may possess now, Danny knows they are fleeting, overshadowed by the potential for chaos and destruction that lies dormant within him.
“Dan?” He questions, voice somehow steady despite the panic still seizing down his spine.
“Dan?” The Phantom echoes, “No, it’s Danny…” He sways slightly and stumbles backward, knocking into the podium that once held the thermos, and slides to the floor. He brings a hand to his face as if to tame a headache and releases a low pain-filled groan.
Danny stares at him, every muscle tense and ready to defend himself against whatever attack may come. But as the seconds drag into minutes, he begins to think that perhaps no attack is coming at all. A very stupid thought despite the relief spreading through his core. He shifts, finally finding the ability to move once again.
He wants to let down his guard, but knowing Dan and seeing the wreckage he had caused both in his own timeline and what he almost caused in the current one before Clockwork set everything right, made the boy-ghost wary. He doesn’t want anything to repeat. He doesn’t want to go through any of that again.
“Are you… okay?” Danny ventures cautiously, his voice finally betraying a hint of uncertainty. He mentally kicks himself. Of all things to ask, why that?
The Phantom lifts his gaze, locking eyes with Danny in a way that makes him tense up all over again. There’s a flicker of recognition, a glimmer of something familiar buried deep within his haunted eyes. Then it fades, leaving only a shadow of a thought.
“I don’t— I don’t know,” The Phantom murmurs, his voice wavering, “Everything’s… foggy.”
Danny watches him closely, torn between his instinct to fight and his growing sense of pity. This isn’t the ruthless adversary he remembers. This is someone lost and struggling to make sense of a reality that is seeping through their fingers like water. He needs help.
“What’s the last thing you remember?” Danny asks, inching ever-so-slightly closer. He tries to appear as calm as he can for both himself and the ghost sitting before him.
The Phantom’s brow furrows in concentration as he struggles to piece together the fragments of his broken memory. “Vlad… Vlad was there,” he mumbles, his voice strained with effort. “He said he’d help… he’d help take away the pain.”
Vlad. Of course. The name sends a surge of anger coursing through Danny’s veins. He mentally facepalms. Why hadn’t he remembered what had happened when he visited and gotten stuck in that timeline? Vlad had been one of the largest causes to the current issue. He knows his godfather’s manipulative tendencies all too well, and he refuses to let his former nemesis continue to control and manipulate his future self whether he’s from this timeline or not.
“Do you know who I am?” Danny presses, hoping to find a thread of familiarity in the tangled mess of the Phantom’s mind.
Dan hesitates, his gaze searching Danny’s face, “You’re… you are familiar,” He admits, uncertainty lacing his words, “But I... I don’t remember much.”
His future self is still disoriented and struggling to make sense of his memories. Danny has the upper hand. What is he supposed to do? He can and should seal his future self away once more and forget about him. But how can he? Especially now that his fear has been proven? Danny’s heart sinks. His future self has no idea what is going on. He doesn’t remember all the damage he has caused. He could have a second chance… just like Vlad… He has the possibility to be good this time around.
Finally, Danny exhales as Clockwork’s words echo through his mind:
“You’ve given everyone else in your life a second chance, why give yourself one as well?”
He glances back at his future self and offers him a hand. There is a possibility that the Phantom is faking this whole thing, but Danny finds that hard to believe. Plus, he can’t ignore that this is still someone in need— someone that needs help. This version of himself may have made terrible choices, but he’s still a part of Danny. Danny can’t abandon him.
“We can figure this out,” Danny says, his voice firm, “Whatever happened to you, we’ll fix it. Together.”
The Phantom looks up at Danny, a flicker of hope mingled with confusion in his eyes. It’s a glimmer of vulnerability that Danny recognizes all too well, a reflection of his own struggles and uncertainties with everything that is going on in his life. His future self hesitantly accepts his hand, allowing Danny to pull him from the ground.
As they stand together in Long Now, Danny feels the weight of responsibility settling heavily on his shoulders. How is he going to explain this to Clockwork or anyone else? No one remembers Dan or what he did, other than himself and Clockwork, but that’s besides the point. And simply locking away his future self again won’t solve the overarching problem.
He exhales in an attempt to release the tension in his form. It doesn’t work. There’s too much to think about and act on all at once that his mind feels as though it’s tripping over itself. What does he do?
He isn’t sure.
There’s a huge issue that has been at play since he first learned about the future that he becomes Dan Phantom. It’s been a huge burden since Dan first made his way into the past. It’s the realization that every choice he makes has a consequence that not only shapes who he himself becomes but everyone else around him as well.
He glances up at his alternate self and cocks his head to the side. He can’t help feeling a sense of urgency overcome him. There’s no time to waste dwelling on the past or wallowing in regrets. The future is uncertain, just as it has always been, and every moment brings new challenges and new opportunities such as now. And as much as Danny fears the potential chaos this version of himself could unleash, he can’t ignore that he also needs help.
“We’ll put you back together again,” He declares, letting a grin spread across his face, “Together.”
His future self looks at him with a mixture of uncertainty and… something else? Hope, perhaps? It’s unmistakably etched in the furrow of his brow and depths of his eyes. It’s a faint beacon of light in the midst of darkness.
Danny can tell he is struggling with piecing things together. He can see the doubt that comes with being a soul adrift in a sea of fragmented memories and grappling with the task of piecing together a shattered identity. It’s a fragile moment, but it speaks volumes.
“What if… I can’t be fixed?” The Phantom’s voice is a whisper sounding very much unlike his usual.
Danny lets his shoulders relax upon hearing those words. He knows the pain that Dan is going through. It bugs him. But it also allows him to see himself and the echoes of his own fears and doubts staring back. He’s still in there. Even if it is like peering into a fractured mirror. He’s still Danny.
 He knows the road ahead won’t be easy, but he refuses to give in to fear. With a deep breath to steady his nerves, Danny reaches out, his hand extended in a silent gesture of solidarity and support, “We’ll figure it out.”
His future self hesitates, uncertainty flickering in his eyes like a wavering flame. For a moment, it seems as if he might retreat and succumb to the darkness that threatens to consume him once more. But then, with a tremulous exhale, he reaches out, his hand trembling as it meets Danny’s in a tentative clasp.
In this moment of connection, Danny feels a surge of hope swell within him, pushing back against the shadows that threaten to engulf them both. This is Dan’s second chance. He refuses to let anyone, least of all himself, squander this opportunity for redemption.
As Danny stands there, hand in hand with his future self, a surge of determination courses through him, drowning out the whispers of doubt and fear in the back of his mind. This is their second chance, a chance to rewrite their destinies, to forge a new path forward unburdened by the mistakes of the past. Screw the observers. Screw fate.
“We won’t waste this chance,” Danny affirms, “We’ll make things right, whatever it takes.”
His future self nods in silent agreement, a glimmer of determination shining in his eyes. It’s a small victory but it fills Danny with renewed resolve. They may not have all the answers, and the road ahead may be long and fraught with challenges, but they can find a new path in which everyone has a second chance. And with that hope guiding their way, Danny knows that they will prevail, no matter what trials may come their way.
22 notes · View notes
autumnaaltonen · 1 year
Note
RE ALUCARD REQUESTS okay okay hear me out: Alucard escorting a human Reader to a spooky fancy vampire ball or some shit and the fact that they'll be the only human there is freaking them out bc hi hello they don't want to get eaten or worse and Alucard responds by getting POSSESSIVE.....
We 'bout to get GLITZY up in here. Making Reader androgynous here, but there isn't too much to hint either way. Enjoy!
Rating: M
Warnings: General Alucard-esc violence.
When Alucard first asked to bring you on one of his annual visits to what can only be described as Vampiric NATO, you were extremely hesitant.
He assures you that Integra has attended with him many times over the years before meeting you, and that she was able to handle herself just fine. But you reason, "THAT'S INTEGRA."
The powerful she/they were the living authority on whether every vamp in that vicinity would continue their unlife or be blown to smithereens by her loyal servant.
You were human too, but Alucard was not your weapon, he was your lover.
Alucard reasons that this very fact makes you even more of a threat to his fellow freaks, as his having not courted a human for centuries made you a very rare and invaluable asset. He assures you that he will keep you safe, and who could say no to that handsome face? So you cave.
When you reach the castle of unknown European territory, Alucard morphs partially into his Vladcard form, wearing his ornate armour, cape, and fantastic sword, but keeping his modern facial features and hair.
In order to match, he dresses you in the finest garments of his mortal Romanian era, adorning you with jewels and holy relics from the Hellsing archives that only the most elite Vatican members could ever hope of even viewing.
It doesn't make you as intimidating as Integra, but it definitely sends a clear message that you were OFF LIMITS to any unholy creature unable to withstand the very essence of God that grazed your skin in the form of blessed silver and religious symbolage.
In Alucard's eyes, you were already royalty, worthy to stand by the side of the No-Life King and former Voivode of Romania, but your current visage only cemented that fact.
When he finally sees you after you return from your dressing room, the man literally fans to one knee, taking your ringed fingers in his own, kissing your knuckles lightly.
"Your Majesty," he smiles. You laugh at his theatrics, before realizing he was entirely serious. That fact makes your very knees tremble in affection, before you throw your arms around his neck and pepper his pale face with kisses, which he happily returns.
When Vlad Alucard leads you into the ballroom, he loops his arm around your lower waist, keeping you pressed close to his side.
Obviously night out, the ballroom was lit with candles and moonlight, the stars twinkling brightly outside tall floor to ceiling windows. The floor was a pearl marble, walls decked out in golden wallpaper and detailed paintings of a bygone era. An orchestra of familiars plays exquisite classical music, perfect for dancing.
There must have been at least 200 people—no, vampires. All of them dressed to the nines in a variety of fashions, jewellery and weaponry.
The shine of swords, daggers and even guns adorning hips makes you stiffen, to which Alucard gently strokes your back in reassurance.
He leads you along as he greets and socializes with his kin. You notice that every time you approach a new group, they deeply bow towards Alucard, a gesture he does not return. Rather, giving a small nod in acknowledgement
Of course, he was the big dog. Why were you even surprised?
He introduces you by name, before adding the title of his "most treasured jewel and precious love." It makes you flush like crazy, not only from the love that fills your chest, but the surprised stares you earn from the immortal guests.
You were human, but you were far from stupid. You saw the blood thirst in their eyes, hidden behind polite smiles and welcomes.
Alucard was no fool either, taking the time to stroke your hair, caress your neck, and kiss your lips between every moment in-between pleasantries. He made you feel appreciated, but you also felt the stares burning into the back of your head.
Two vampires in particular had caught your attention, who you have been informed as a former Duke of France, and a German Knight of the Protestant Reformation.
The Duke and Knight spy on you and your lover for then entire night, exchanging whispered words and occasional glances that meet your mortal eyes, which they return with a smirk and a lick of their fangs. You attempt to keep your gaze on your King, but the burn of their ruby eyes never leave you.
Alucard eventually notices your anxiety, of which you've tried to hide as best you can, so he may enjoy himself, but he knows you inside and out, and pulls you to the side of the ballroom to inquire of your sudden change in mood.
When you finally admit to him of the Duke and Knight's thirsty stares on your visage, his caring eyes instantly turn furious and rageful.
You quickly take his face into your hands, reassuring Alucard that you know you are safe by his side, but he's having none of it.
Someone dares to look upon his love without his permission? To make them fearful with lustful gazes and belittle their status as his partner?
Oh hell no.
Alucard removes your hands from his face, kissing both of your palms with delicacy light as a feather, before leading you to a Princess he introduced to you earlier, a beautiful vampiress, and one of the few in the castle who offered you a genuine welcome. He leaves you by her side, requesting her watch of you (of which she obviously obeys) before he storms across the ballroom and towards the twinned source of unease.
She whispers in your ear, asking what has stirred the King so? You admit that he's about to cause a ruckus, which she smiles at fervently.
You hear the distinctive 'shink' of a sword being unsheathed, Alucard wielding his weapon casually in one hand as he stands in the center of the dance floor. The music stops, and everyone becomes silent.
Alucard's voice booms across the room, echoing off of the walls, he calls upon the Duke and Knight by name, daring them to approach.
They do so, bowing before Alucard with wide eyes, fully aware of the mistake they have made. As they rise, the Knight dares another tested look in your direction, to which you turn your head into the shoulder of the Princess.
The sound of flesh being separated and torn ripples in the air, Alucard grabbing the Knight by the throat and digging the tip of his blade into both of the vampire's eyes. He screams in pain, writhing in Alucard's grasp. The Duke takes a step back in fear, before Alucard raises his long sword towards the coward's throat.
"Let this be a lesson for all those foolish enough to gaze at my jewel with thirsty eyes. Any who dare challenge their authority here will answer to the steel of my blade, or the silver of my gun."
You realize he means this quite literally, as he forces the two vampires to choose their fate: either a beheading by sword, or a blessed bullet between the eyes.
Quite the party indeed, especially when Alucard ravages you the following morning for all in the castle to hear.
205 notes · View notes
daxcherry · 1 year
Text
When I think of You
A/N: This is my first time posting something like this so I’m still unsure about formatting
18+
————————————————————————————
He was in the middle of a training session when it happened. Another game of hero’s vs villains, and Deku was on the villain team and losing. He was paired with Mineta, Jirou, and Hagarauke. Not a solid team and they had all already been separated.
Unfortunately, he had been found by Shindo and Ibara who were fighting him hand to hand and Deku was struggling with his mind distracted. He needed a teammate. He needed help. He wished he could find one of his teammates, any one of them. Sweat was beading on his forehead and he felt desperate. He needed someone he could count on. He needed-
“Hah?!?“ Kacchan’s loud booming voice interrupted the fight as the three people turned to stare at the angry blond. He wasn’t on either current team, so how did he get here?
“Stop!“ Present Mic sounded off and then the three teachers, Aizawa, Present Mic, and Vlad King, entered the arena.
“Bakugou! What are you doing? You can’t join another teams fight!” Aizawa reprimanded the blonde, who tch’s in return.
“I didn’t move! One minute I’m standing up there,” he gestured to one of the cameras, “and now I’m down /here/! I didn’t join shit!” Aizawa then turned his attention to Deku.
“Did you have something to do with this?” He asked.
“N-no!” Deku replied, waving his hands in front of himself and conveniently leaving out that he was thinking of Kacchan when it happened. Aizawa sighed, clearly not believing him.
“Both of you to Recovery Girl. I want her to look you two over.” Aizawa then turned and walked away. Deku gave a nervous glance to Kacchan, who was glaring at him. He then tch’d again and started walking towards the med bay. Deku left Shindo where he stood and dutifully followed.
“This have something to do with your quirk, nerd?” Kacchan asked once they were out of earshot.
“I d-don’t think so…but I was thinking of you when it happened.” Deku admitted, blushing. Kacchan stopped in his tracks and looked at Deku for a moment, studying him.
“You’re always thinking of me, stalker.” He gave a sharp smile and then turned back around, continuing the walk. His ears were a little pink. Deku blushed even deeper because he knew it was true.
The rest of the walk was in silence. When they got to Recovery Girl she looked over and gave them both a clean bill of health. For the rest of the week, nothing like that happened again.
That was until Saturday.
Most of the day was uneventful. Kacchan had headed to bed at 8 and Deku retired to his room to study. He didn’t actually plan on studying because he had a spar session earlier that day and he couldn't get the visage of Kacchan hot and sweaty out of his head. He walked into his room and shut the door, locking it. He then stripped off his clothes and laid on his bed, on his back. He rubbed a hand over his chest and lightly cupped a hand around his shaft, working on getting himself revved up. He gave a couple light strokes as he thought of finishing the spar with Kacchan.
He closed his eyes and imagined Kacchan would pull his black tank off and walk towards Deku, the sweat making his skin glow in the setting sun, putting a hand on his chest and pushing him to the ground. Then he’d climb on top of him and run a hand up his chest and to his chin, lifting it up to start a kiss. Deku moaned both in his fantasy and in the real world.
The sound of something hitting the floor broke his stupor. His eyes shot open, and his hand fell loosely to his side. There standing in front of him was Kacchan, naked except for a towel wrapped around his waist. His toothbrush laid on the floor, but his hand was up to his mouth like he was still brushing his teeth. His eyes were blown open wide, and his mouth was dropped open in shock. Deku stared at him for a moment before he remembered what he had been doing and his entire body turned red, grabbing a blanket and throwing it over himself.
“Oh my g-How did yo-the door.” He distinctly remembered locking it.
The sound of Deku speaking seemed to stir Kacchan out of his stupor and a look Deku had never seen before settled on his face. He almost looked…hungry. He walked over to Deku.
“You were thinking of me again, weren’t you?” Kacchan growled, his voice a few octaves deeper. Deku somehow turned an even deeper red and was too embarrassed to answer. He didn’t want Kacchan to be grossed out so he covered his face, preparing for the barrage of insults. Instead, he felt the bed dip around him as Kacchan pulled the blanket away and leaned between his legs. Deku removed his hands and looked at Kacchan in surprise.
“K-Kacchan?”
“Answer the question, nerd.” Kacchan replied, hovering oh so close to Deku’s member.
“Yes. Yes, I was thinking of you.”
“While you masturbated?” Kacchan lifted his own hand and licked the entire palm, then used that hand to take Deku’s erection.
“Y-yes, Kacchan.” Kacchan smiled and started pumping up and down slowly. Deku could feel heat coming from the blond's hand. He was using his quirk to heat the saliva, making his hand feel wet and warm. Deku threw his head back in a gasp. “K-Kacchan.” He moaned.
This urged the blonde on. As the saliva on his hand began to dry he switched it out with his mouth, taking Deku’s entire length in one go and then pulling back to slightly bob his head back and forth on the tip.
“Aaa-ah” Deku's breath hitched as Kacchan moved. He then brought a hand up and gently massaged his balls. Deku ran a hand over his own chest, watching as Kacchan suckled him. He then bobbed his head all the way down again, his nose reaching his pelvis. He could feel Kacchan's throat tighten and twitch, as if it was begging for him to come down it. He gave a whimper when Kacchan's glorious mouth pulled away, a small string of spit linking the two. Kacchan popped two fingers in his own mouth, looking Deku in the eyes and he covered them in spit. He then pulled them out and reached under Deku, pressing to his tight ring. Deku moaned again as he pushed his fingers in.
“You like that, don’t you?” Kacchan teased. Deku merely nodded; not sure he could speak if he wanted to. “You dream of me doing this to you?” Deku nodded again, too horny to feel nervous about being called out. Kacchan started scissoring his fingers, stretching Deku's tight hole. He put his mouth on Deku's pretty pink head, bobbing his head up and down and massaging Deku's balls with the other hand. Deku could barely take it. He watched Katuski do this, his fingers ghosting over his own chest, leaving trails of electricity behind. His entire body was tingling.
“I-I’m gonna!” He yelled as his dick twitched, spilling hot seed straight down Kachan's throat. Kacchan took it greedily and Deku stared in disbelief. “Kacchan…” Kacchan removed his mouth with a pop looking up at Deku.
“Got any lube?” He asked. Deku pointed to the top drawer at his bedside table. Kacchan walked to it and Deku was able to see the very big bulge under his towel. He grabbed the lube and then came back, pouring the lube on his hand and then dropping the the towel, allowing his massive dick to spring free. Deku gasped.
“O-oh my god.”
“You want me to fuck you?” Kacchan asked as he palmed his own dick, covering it with lube.
“Yes!” Deku answered with no hesitation. Kacchan smirked at the response.
“Ask me nicely.”
“P-please, Kacchan.”
“Please what?” Deku whined. He was really going to make him say it.
“Please. Please fuck me!” He begged. Kacchan chuckled in response and then hooked his hands under his knees, lifting his legs. He then pressed his swollen head up to Deku’s hole, giving it a small push before plunging in all the way. “A-ah!” Deku moaned again.
“So tight for me.” Kacchan cooed again, sounding pleased. He kept a fast pace, Deku moaning with each thrust. Without slowing down Kacchan reached to the back of Deku’s head and pulled him close.
“You’re so loud. You wanna get caught?” He asked before he smashed their lips together. Deku could taste himself on Kacchan’s tongue as he stuck his tongue in a swirled it around. He then pulled it out and gave Kacchans bottom lip a bite. Kacchan hummed in response before he let him go, starting to pant. “F-fuck.”
“Ah,” Deku answered.
“Fuck you’re so good.” He panted and Deku could tell he was getting close. He reached his hand down between them and started pumping his own shaft as Kacchan slammed into him repeatedly. At the fast pace, soon enough Deku was seeing white, and he came all over himself and Kacchan. Soon after Kacchan doubled over onto his chest, spasming as he pumped inside of Deku. He could feel a little leak out as he pulled out, panting and leaving his forehead leaning on Deku’s chest. After a few moments he looked up to Deku. “Next time you plan on masterbating, just call me.”
A few days later Deku learned that it was the second user quirk that was giving him the ability to summon Kacchan to his location. He used it alot.
176 notes · View notes
nectar-cellar · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
vlad info dump
taking inspiration from ts4 vampires, i am trying to create a Dark Form for vlad. i felt like he needed something scarier than just red eyes and a few wimpy fangs hidden in that dainty mouth. any sim can put on some contacts and plastic fangs from party city! he’s not just any old dusty vampire, he’s the big daddy of forgotten hollow okay, his visage needs to arou-- i mean, terrify all who gaze upon him. ahem.
i’m thinking vlad’s Dark Form only comes out when he’s about to battle other supernatural beings, or when he’s in a full on frenzied hunting mode, or when he’s in a very bad mood. like it would take a lot to make him drop his sophisticated-aristocrat facade and morph into... this.  
his look ~
demon teeth conversions by @vmsims23 🖤 these are brilliant. i scaled up the makeup for a bigger smile :D
vampire face shadows by niobe cremisi
eyes by pyxiis. not 100% decided on the eye colors and style yet. should they be human-like? or dark, demon-like?
what else?
i feel like some large pointy ears would complement the whole sexy demon look
i would like to try these dark stain tattoos on him as well
with some long vampire nail accessories i have installed from somewhere a long time ago.
it’d be so cool to have some huge bat-like wings, a lizard tail, and spikes sticking out from his spine or something so he really looks like a feral creature from hell but that’s not possible in ts3 i guess.
86 notes · View notes
talubld · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media
a little mans added . [ request only. hi vlad- ]
eusine.  »  in character. eusine.  »  visage. eusine.  »  aesthetics. eusine.  »  desires. eusine.  »  about. eusine.  »  team.
8 notes · View notes
fangs-trait · 5 months
Note
I love love love reading your lore-stuff, you are so good at writing and I mean it, dear Di!! could you tell us more about your non-ts4 vamps? I think I screamed a little when I saw Arcadia amongst your story characters, she was my favorite countess when I was a kid :D 💜
(this ask has been in my askbox forever sorry anon)
arcadia andrews from sims 2
her traits are romantic, clumsy and lazy. she is a libra.
she is in this group of 4 vampires as a "family". vlad bloodvein turned elizabeth bathory, and she turned arcadia. so they all share the same gene of the old school blood lusting vampires.
she had an intimate moment with elizabeth before she was turned (reference to her turn-on and memories of kissing a mystery sim).
they all live together in an underground secret level of a club where they're able to feed from it's visitors looking for "something special". she, like her sires, is able to cast an alluring visage. their basement is like a trap with no escape when they're hungry.
she is the most sympathetic to humans of them all. though she really likes being a vampire.
vicky vampiress from sims 1
her traits and zodiac sign are unknown.
she claims to be the oldest vampire alive but no one believes her.
she is connected to dragons and speaks in riddles. most people don't understand what she means.
her vampire gene only passes to females. she turned demetrius troyer (you can tell that only from his eye color). and because of him this gene passed to samantha gratz from demetrius (her skin will become green after she is turned completely).
she doesn't need blood to survive and she wouldn't kill anyone.
btw she is a pretty cool lady and owns a bar. she is friends with elle devampiro and let a lot of vampire offsprings who don't want to feed from humans live in her place.
potentially an ally to vatore siblings cause she knows some secrets of vampirism other vampires don't know.
and elvira slayer from sims 3 is covered in her own post :)
8 notes · View notes
wonderhevrts · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
0 notes
eljeebee · 9 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The Vatore siblings, and Count Vladislaus Straud
I had to glam them up bc they're going to be relevant in Elizabeth Swanson's character arc in my legacy...weird bc Caleb didn't have a dark form, while his sister goes deadly pale. My headcanon for them is that Caleb maintains his likeness in his dark form with his vampiric energy (he's a little vain...I mean he's very materialistic and wants expensive things in their house, ofc he's gonna make sure he looks expensive too), although his face cracks a bit. Meanwhile, Lilith doesn't care maintaining her humane visage when using her dark form so she doesn't care if she goes deathly pale. She loves scaring people. For vlad? Just tweaked some things on his dark form. He's just like that.
Also, I know Caleb already appeared in Elizabeth's story, and he looks a little different. Let's just say he altered his appearance a little bit to be safe so no one could recognize him, just in case.
Anyways, vampires is my favorite occult in the sims (second is fairies, EA pls), thank you for listening to my rambles. Mwah
Tumblr media
16 notes · View notes
heredis-sanguinis · 7 months
Text
Something I haven’t spoken publically about, regarding Vlad’s appearance or anything. And I think only @regina-tenebris was privy to this information so far;
Vlad has slightly longer fangs, which adds a certain more non-human visage when seeing him. This has no function for ‘blood drinking’ or anything, but he added it to his appearance over the centuries with each body renewal so that people would be more fearful of him.
Relishing in that knowledge he takes a certain pride of it.
3 notes · View notes
Note
[ hand kiss ] >:3c
the  intimacy  of  hands. ═══ LEAGUE VERSE ═══ [ hand kiss ]  –  for the sender’s muse to kiss the back of the receiver’s hand.
Chandelier candles twinkled within the ripples of his wine, reflecting back to fill his verdent gaze with pools of cherries and rose petals - how long had he been at this party for? The mage lifted his eyes to flutter them through the many beautiful ball gowns as well as over heads, up ornate walls to the clock situated high above. 30 minutes. Robin's eyes narrowed and his brow scrunched with disdain as he scoffed, only half an hour? Nonsense. With the amount of inane prattling going on about him it would have at least been two, maybe three hours... Surely? The sound of laughter snapped his head around to the left, a sudden queasiness going within his stomach as it danced under his skin. Was he being spoken about? Surely the people here knew he was not Noxian, with their pompous attitudes and blood lust... This wretched country.
White tresses jumped playfully as he rid his mind of the thought, that would be nonsensical; he was nothing more than a filthy little rat from Zaun....especially to these type of people. Selfish, wretched humans that delighted in bloodshed, misery, and the war machine while they sat up in their pretty homes and watched from on high as though they were some heathen gods. His lips curled into a frown the longer he looked, unable to dose the small flame of malice that dwelled deep within him. That was until a relaxed chuckle sounded from behind him, and he was quick to turn his attention to the party's host. A man who Robin had no business knowing, a chance meeting, something that changed his life forever: from a wandering and lost wretch to a masquerade within the richest city in Noxus.
An almost prince-like visage filled his senses as he met those beautiful eyes, like crystals...like stars. The pale yellow of his hair reminded Robin of moonlit filled ribbons, cascading along a snowy bank in the dead of winter, a harvest moon casting a warm glow amongst the vast emptiness. The mage needn't deny the way his lips fold upwards as the man approached, dressed beautifully in fine red fabrics, his face as handsome as ever. Surely it must have been written across his face as he watched the Hemomancer, his eyelashes falling downward to shift into wintry crescent while his cheeks ablazed and blossomed into crimson apples. He took the new drink offered to him, perfectly placing his glass upon the tray of a nearby waiter passing by before he returned his attention to its rightful spot.
He was ready to speak before he heard a gentle chiding, followed by his own hand bringing brought upwards until he could feel the hot breath from Vladimir's lips. Robin felt his throat grow dry as their eyes locked once more, as though Vlad was purposefully trying to rile him into embarrassment - or to tempt him to leave. The whole thing made his head spiral, but it worsened ever more when the man practically purred against his flesh,
Mmmm... You look positively ravishing this evening, Darling.
The man's sharp fangs flashed before lips pressed firmly onto Robin's knuckles and he felt his cheeks flush ever more when Vlad peers up to him through his long lashes. A few more kisses are laid upon him while that intense gaze lowers itself and the mage feels his body ignite with the way he's being looked at. He can't pull away - not now, not when Vlad flashes a playful smile and lifts himself to full height, never once letting go of Robin's hand - never once does their stare part. Another few words go over his head as they stand there...perhaps the evening was going to be fun after all.
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes