phantom of the opera!dracula x reader
cw: this was a desperate attempt to be as movie accurate as possible in accordance to both the films timelines and plots. bare with me :’)
every ballroom attended, every society joined, and yet no trace of his beloved elisabeta. arriving at paris, france, vlad prepares for the celebration at the hotel du louvre: where his servant promised to return his lover back to him. in the midst of this, he decides to take one last stroll around the city of love.
the paris opera house, 1889.
behind the opera house curtains was a surge of movement, a restless ambience filled with the hurrying steps of dancers, orchestra musicians dusting themselves and their instruments, seamstresses adding last-minute touches to costumes, stagehands peeping into the dancers fitting rooms and watching the ladies drown themselves in cheap beer those pervs would sneak in for them. everyone had their own place, their own duties and groups. no body laid still, as the opening night would be nothing short of chaos in the opera house.
you were a performer amongst the sea of other dancers. young, full of life, and a captivating beauty that drew you plenty of attention. in and out of the establishment, all eyes were on you no matter where you went. despite your humble background, daughter of a tailor who unfortunately passed when you were younger.
your father was a kind man, generous and honest. or so you were told, the memories with him faded with age. all you knew was the opera house and the ballet mistress, madame giry.
a poise, well-respected woman who kept the girls in check. she’d taken you under her wing and allowed you a comfortable life at the opera house, so long as you performed well as a dancer. not a job, she told you, just something to keep you occupied until you find your own path.
you were good at what you did, beauty aside. your image was alluring, your movements flowed effortlessly and you were a quick learner. a promising talent, very promising. all praises you'd received from madame giry and her daughter, whom you'd grown very close to since you met her at the age of seven, meg giry. with hair that shined like the sun on a warm day and honey brown eyes, she was a living angel in your eyes. the two of you rehearsed together, spent countless nights up and daydreaming about the futures you wanted for eachother. she hoped to find a wealthy man and have a family, you often said nothing.
"do you think you'll end the night empty handed?" the soft voice that emerged followed by the provocative language belonged to none other than meg, breaking you out of your dazed trance. taking your hand as you passed by the drunkards loitering the halls. you hadn't noticed you'd been positioned in the same place for a while, looking over the railing onto the first floor where the dancers stretched and laughted amongst eachother. maybe you were nervous, maybe you'd prefer to sleep in just this one time. maybe both.
"i think i'll end this night sweaty and tired, miss giry. and good afternoon to you, too." you laughed, following behind the blonde as you two hurried down the spiral staircase to join the rest of the ballet in their rehearsal.
the sun began to set as rehearsals went on, until madame giry dismissed the girls and suggested they explore the city, as tonight was the centenary celebration of the french revolution. paris was crowded, much more than usual. families gathered at the nearby festival, hotels were filled and the laughter of people echoed across the city.
meg accompanied you as the two of you left the opera house, the two of you changing into gowns suited for going out. her hand lost grip of yours as soon as you arrived at the festival. beaming lights and lively crowds, the alley was filled with tourists and families. the air smelled of cinnamon and hot chocolate, a warm and inviting scent.
your hand found comfort in gripping the handle of your black umbrella, fingernails tracing the textured grip around the bar. eyes searching endlessly for meg, you gave up and decided to enjoy the night alone. either way, you two were to report back to madame giry an hour before the opera house opened to the public once again.
one hour to myself, you thought. might as well make the most of it.
you started at the hot chocolate stand. the smell drew you to it, naturally, and you purchased a cup for yourself. two small marshmallows floated above the brown liquid, steam emitting from its surface and hitting your face. your eyes looked around, blinded by bright lights and colorful decorations scattered around the street. most of your time was spent at the opera house, in the dimly lit hallways and the small comfort of your shared room.
you received special privileges being so close to the giry family, you and meg were able to share a room. the rest of the ballet shared one room, which probably explained why you felt so astray from them. they were their own clique, their own kind of popular in their eyes. maybe it was envy of your skills, of your ability to perform almost effortlessly, of being able to dance with the wind. you were not blind to the fact that you clearly had more experience and talent than the girls. you weren’t one to brag, but they were some to bitch. that’s why you preferred having meg as your only companion. life was simpler that way.
the crowds did not surround him this time, they did not lay their greedy eyes onto his own that lacked life. the warm bodies he moved past were laughing amongst eachother, embracing one another and filling the atmosphere with a feeling vlad could only describe as a distant memory. no matter where he was, whether the skies illuminated rays of colors in the night, or the plains were covered in the brightest of flowers, he could not allow himself to enjoy any beauty in his life. for the beauty in his life died when elizabeta did, too. for now, his body devoid of life roamed endlessly in this world. there was no peace on this planet he could find that would allow him the chance at moving on, not without her.
with a glimmer of hope in his heart, vlad continued on his stroll, hoping this would ease his nerves before he returned to the hotel where him and his lover would possibly reunite.
the smell of fresh baked goods could not mask the warm, iron-like aroma that filled his nostrils, being so close in proximity to people. it was nice blending in, not being fawned over or condemned. it allowed vlad the opportunity to bask in the moment, to allow his mind to lower its volume and just be.
“forgive me!” a soft voice erupted the silence in his brain as a strange body nudged against his, followed by the gentle caress of a hand on his bicep. eyes narrowing down to meet the owner of such melody, his eyes met with yours. dark, ominous, you couldn’t quite tell what it was in his look that sent a warmth to the core of your stomach, and an everlonging feeling for more. but more of what?
his voice bled thick of a romanian accent. it was deep, alluring. the words, only kept brief, rolled off his tongue like a purring cat. his lips curved into a barely noticeable smile, so subtle you wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t perked his head to the side, eyes now glaring down your frame. he looked at you with softer eyes than you've experienced, after years on stage, at the eyes of lustful men.
his lacked that; they held something kinder, purer. it was as if the longer he stared at you, the more he would learn about you. and yet, he didn't. it unnerved you what he was thinking, why he made you feel a familiar yet distinct warmth in your heart you couldn't recall ever feeling. he himself didn't understand why he swore he felt his heart pulsing 400 years later, and why it felt like how it used to around his first and last love.
you were no extraordinary being, you were quite beautiful, vlad could admit that. you smelled divine, the blood pulsing through your veins didn’t pass him. your skin, surely made of the sweetest of sugar, was inviting; it was comforting, familiar. it smelled of a home he once had before his lover took it with her. she took the idea of permanence, of belonging, from his life. vlad was unsure why in this moment, though, he felt something similar to home standing in front of you.
a minute had passed before the staring grew too intense, and the silence between you two became almost unbearable. assuming you had bothered him upon accidentally bumping into him, you were about to bid farewell before he interrupted your train of thought.
“excuse me, i seem to have lost my mind and my manners. vlad the second, prince of wallachia,” his hand extended to grab the soft hand once on his arm, leaning his head forward ever so slightly and carefully bringing your hand up to where his lips brushed against your knuckles, “count dracul.”
his lips hovered there for a second longer, eyes peering up at yours as he placed a gentle, feather-like kiss on the back of your hand. his lips were cold but soft and gentle, like a snowflake had fallen on your bare skin and left a tingling sensation afterwards. it left you longing for another chance to feel his lips on you again.
it was intoxicating and unnerving how quick you were to find interest in this stranger. it was nothing like you’d ever experienced before. keeping yourself indoors for most of your life, surrounded by the same group of people, it was not often you had the chance to speak to a man outside of the stage crew or guests at the opera house. unless it was business manners, conversing with a gentleman was out of your norm.
you watched as he rose back up, straightening his posture and allowing your arm to fall back at your side. he guided your arm down before he realized he had been grabbing ahold of it the entire time, and let go. despite his touch being cold, your skin seemed to feel more exposed to the cold of the night the moment your contact broke.
clearing your throat, you introduces yourself and returned that subtle smile back to him. despite his striking beauty, you reminded yourself not to give in so easily. if you learned anything about men from the other dancers at the opera house, is that they are very good at using their charm to get their way. and you would rather die than allow yourself to fall victim to such tricks.
“now, what is a thing like you doing here alone? it is so easy for a flower like you to get lost in a crowd like this.” vlad did not know what possessed him in that moment to continue this interaction with you. he didn’t need the attention of another to occupy his mind, and yet he found himself indulged in this conversation.
“i’m enjoying the festival until i must return back to the opera house.” you weren’t sure what possessed you either, as you had no issue in blurting out personal details about yourself, completely ignorant to the fact that this total stranger could have ill intent towards you. That worry did not cross your mind once during this time, he didn’t seem the type. didn’t feel the type.
“ah, you are a ballet girl.” his tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth, a proper smile forming on his pale lips. a pair of lips you caught yourself staring at for a second longer than you intended, a stare that he was not blind to.
“yes, sir, i am.” you nodded, flustered at the way his discovery seemed to satisfy something within him. “tonight we open the opera house with the very first performance of the season.”
vlad stayed silent for a second, and an unreadable expression came across his face. as if he was pondering, all whilst examining you. eyes tracing over your features, down to the way your hands found comfort yet again playing with the handle of your umbrella that rested in front of your hips. he was unnerved by the thoughts that raced through his mind. you had just met, and yet he already contemplated taking your comment as an invitation.
it was a gesture of kindness, an opportunity to indulge in art before he continued with his plans for tonight. he would not allow himself to be distracted, especially not tonight. but seeing you perform for a bit wouldn’t cause any harm. or so he thought.
“well, i wish you the best of luck with your performance. it was a pleasure meeting you.” his hand grabbed the front of his top hat, his free one gently tugging at the front of his black coat as he bowed, taking one last glance at you before giving you that soft smile and walking away. you stood dumbfounded, eyes still staring at the spot he once occupied, before you turned your head to look for him. and in a matter of seconds, he had vanished. and though he was physically no longer in view, you found yourself still feeling the lingering of his gaze on you throughout the night.
carlotta, the leading soprano of the house, quit right before the doors opened. you had arrived through the back entrance when madame giry stopped you once you reached rhe stage to join the rest of the dancers for a quick debrief. you heard the voices of people arguing as you grew closer to the scene, overhearing something about carlotta complaining about things happening, and her refusing to perform until said things stopped happening.
the redhead was always complaining about something, so it came as no surprise to you that tonight was her breaking point. you were too busy watching as she stormed off to notice that two older gentlemen were arguing over who would replace the soprano, if they would have to refund a full house. until madame giry’s voice interrupted the tense moment, suggesting you could sing for carlotta.
“what- the chorus girl? don’t be silly.” the shorter grey haired man scoffed, facing away in frustration at what he assumed to be a joke.
“let her sing for you, monsieur, she has been well taught.” madame giry insisted, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. you looked at her, then the pair of men standing before you. a sigh emerged from the brunets mouth, before he threw his hands up and exclaimed.
tonight, you wore a costume different than you were ever used to. a white, off the shoulder sparkly gown adorned your body, flower jewelry falling down your hair like raindrops. the stage lights were shining down at you, and only you.
the roaring of applauses echoed in the grand house, flowers being thrown at your feet. and for the first time, you felt seen. tonight was the most cherished you’d ever felt, ever since the interaction you shared with the prince. his lingering gaze still burned like a fire in your mind, it almost troubled you during your performance.
madame giry accompanied you to your dressing room, belonging to carlotta, before she left the house in a fit. upon entering, you were met by dozens of bouquets scattered on tables, chairs, and the vanity across the room where your reflection stared back at you.
the older woman congratulated you once more, before giving you privacy. your feet mindlessly found themselves walking to sit at the vanity, eyes still captivated on your gown. your hands placed on your lap, your fingertips danced along the knuckles of the hand that was caressed earlier. your eyes closed momentarily, basking in the scent emitting from the fresh flowers besides you. envisioning the brief interaction you shared with the prince, your fingers were replaced by his lips in your mind.
a sudden draft of breeze made you shudder, eyes opening to look at the reflection behind you. the window that was usually kept locked was now cracked open, the whistling of the wind filling the silent space. the candles lit and placed around the room flickered, dancing and casting shadows on the decorated walls. you stood up, brows furrowed as you reached to close the window and lock it, staring out at the busy city. you thought about the encounter
once more, before brushing it aside.
turning around, you shrieked as the man from earlier had appeared just where you were sitting, hands folded in front of him. that damned smile was plastered on his face, and despite the circumstances, he looked just as good as you remembered.
“you! how- how did you get in here? don’t take another step or i’ll scream! ” your voice caught in your throat as you placed a hand on your rapidly beating chest, staring at the intruder in disbelief.
“don’t be afraid, i mean no harm.” his voice was sincere, soft, like it was a few hours ago. his hand rested above his heart as he began to take small, calculated steps towards you. “i merely came to congratulate you personally for an exquisite performance.”
“you…” still unable to formulate any coherent words, you looked away, lashes fluttering as if to clear your vision from the hallucinations you were sure you were experiencing.
“my apologies for scaring you, the door was unlocked and i forgot to knock. please forgive me.” vlad stepped closer once more, now only a few feet of space dividing you two.
you had so many questions, yet your brain fogged up in that very moment as you looked up at the prince. he had that same look in his eyes as he did earlier. you couldn't understand why he seemed so keen on studying you. it made you uncomfortable, though not out of discomfort, but rather his staring made you awfully self-conscious.
vlad's mind couldn't help but see your face and elisabeta's, like a glitch in his vision that would warp both your faces into one, then two, then one. his mind and his heart fought a silent interal battle, a battle in which his beloved and the new beauty before him took control of his mind.
he then remembered maria told him to meet at the hotel at 10 sharp. the brass clock resting on the dresser besides you warned him.
he did not leave. this would trouble him later on. yet, that was a problem until then.
“thank you.” your voice faded into nearly a whisper, unable to look away from his face. in the candlelight, you were able to see a faded scar running down the right side of his face, beginning underneath his eye.
“your voice, it was like a liquid sunlight during cold winter nights like these. i am glad to have seen you tonight.” it was almost like a confession he dared not to admit. it felt wrong, experiencing these feelings of need and want for another body. another soul. it felt even more wrong that you had managed to let elisabeta slip from his mind for the first time in 400 years of longing.
vlad took another stride at you, his hand subconsciously moving up to reach your jaw, a gentle caress of his thumb tracing over your skin. you did not look anything like his beloved, you were a different kind of beauty. not one that replicated that of elizabeta, for nobody could replace her. though, yours was, too, irreplaceable. it was haunting, haunting him for his inability to control such feelings. this craving that he had not felt since he became condemned from death finally resurfaced and nestled at your feet.
your eyes trailed down to his parted lips, unaware of the space between you two slowly closing in. you felt like you were no longer in your body, like your soul was stuck somewhere in limbo and his body was this magnetic force, and you could not stop yourself from moving closer to him. your faces, only inches apart, and lips close enough to eachother that a slight shift from either of you would give you the satisfaction you’d yearned for all night.
"i have a feeling this won't be the last i'll be seeing of you."