#count iplier

[freckled-words]

Dealing With Children

I was talking with @the-wild-ego​ about how the two vampire!egos interact with the others of their “family” and we got into this amusing scenario that needed to be extended on.

To learn more about Count Iplier and Marquess Septic, please check out @justwritingscibbles​. If you search her blog for their names, you’ll find a list with her headcanons and some fics ^^

This is completely unedited.

Where there is emotion, there is energy. Energy that can be molded into something new.

In this day and age of technology, and overpopulation, there is a bountiful amount of energy being reshaped.

These new creations are known to the select few as, Egos. A general term that the Egos have, more or less, accepted for the time being.

Of course, these Egos born in this era, are considered infants to those that were made, many, many years ago.

These centuries old beings have grown accustomed to a different label.

Some have accepted their role as a werewolf. Preferring solitude and freedom in the wild.

Some have the arrogance to consider themselves a minor deity. 

Three particular beings have accepted their title as vampires. 

One was born in the dark ages.

One was born in the renaissance.

One was born in the times of feudal war.

Tethered to the bloodlines that first crossed their lips, they’ve travelled the world many times over.

Now, in 2019, they have all settled for the next century to pass them by.

As they wait for the time when they should move along, they’ve found some familiar connection to the Egos that share their appearance.

Two of the three have anyways. 

Count Iplier and Marquess Septic have come to an agreement in favor of seeing peace between their two families.

Because both hosted rather powerful individuals, it was deemed vital that important communications be passed between them civilly. If only to keep war from breaking out unnecessarily.

Which is how they’ve found themselves in rather, aggravating, situations.

~~~~~~~

“LALALALALAALLAAL I’M NOT LISTENING! LALALALALA! NOT LISTENING TO NOTHIN’ THAT ASSHAT HAS TO SAY!!!” 

Marquess stood in the middle of the Septic Manor living room, watching as Anti glitched around the room at random, yelling this, with his hands covering his ears.

Marquess had come by to pass on a simple bit of information. Less than two sentences. Of course, he had to deal with this ridiculous nonsense first. The same nonsense he dealt with every time he had to pass on information.

In a growl he muttered, “Why is my family full of idiots?”

A sympathetic pat on his shoulder drew his attention.

Dr. Von Schneeplestein stood next to him, his eyes tracking Anti’s erratic movements, “Every family has to have one, do they not?”

Marquess huffed, but this did calm his ire a bit. 

Count had once stated that compared to them, these Egos, were technically their baby brothers. In terms of years and mental growth at any rate.

Keeping this in mind had been the only means of holding Marquess back from bashing Anti over the head a few times.

Movement from something purple caught his attention in the other direction.

His features smoothed into a lax smile, allowing the tips of his fangs to show, as he beckoned over Robbie.

Robbie was always hesitant to go running up to Marquess, as he just innately felt something stronger about the older being. Anti almost felt the same way, but it didn’t run as deep as Marquess.

Something about Robbie, who was technically deemed the same line of “monster” that he was made Marquess genuinely consider him a baby brother. At his smile, Robbie awkwardly jaunted over and beamed in delight when Marquess patted him on the head.

It was at this time that Anti realized he was no longer the center of attention, and Marquess wasn’t even bothering to try and get him to stop.

Ticked off by this, he glitched over and stood hands on hips in front of Marquess with his teeth bared in a snarl, “There ain’t even a message for me, is there? Yer just here to be a bother I bet.”

Without missing a beat, Marquess reached over and flicked Anti on the forehead. Hard.

Sent sprawling back by the force, Anti barely managed to catch himself and glitch onto his feet. 

“OI!”

Marquess ignored him and told Schneep, “The Ipliers wanted you to know their community may cause some flux in the energy fields for the next couple weeks. Some large project that’s being published on October 30th. Dark can’t be certain, but he thinks he’ll be involved. Let your brothers know.”

He gave Robbie a little hair tussle, then grew out his bat wings. 

The window had been left open from when he’d made his arrival, so Marquess saw no reason not to use it for his exit.

Once he was clear, Schneep closed the window. Beckoning to Robbie he left the living room, “Come along Robert. Ve should let ze others know.”

Anti was left fuming, and stomping his feet, “That message wasn’t for me at fucking all!”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile at the Iplier Headquarters …

“Count my old boy! How’s the night life treating ya? Hey, so I’ve got a new slot opened on the channel, wanna be my next interview?” Wilford practically danced around Count as he sat drinking his tea in the library.

Internally he reminded himself, ‘They’re just children. Hold your patience.’ 

“Here we have the ever evasive vampire. More specifically, Vampire Jim. The oldest Jim to Jim.”

A glance to the door showed the Jim twins with their camera and microphone, doing their best to not be too obvious. As usual, they were not very well versed at subterfuge. 

Count sighed, giving up on some peace while he waited to hear back from Marquess. He would just let Marquess know to meet him somewhere later.

Getting to his feet he told Wilford, “I’m honoured by the invite, but I must decline. I will consider it for next time.”

Wilford wanted to protest, but a stern look from Count quieted him down. With a defeated smile he shrugged, “Ah well~ The viewer’s will just have to settle for a good old time with their favorite Wilfy I suppose.”

Count left him to his enthusiastic ramblings, and went over to the Jims. 

“Jim! We’ve been discovered! Flee Jim! Flee!” MC attempted to spin around and run, only to get tangled up with CJ, sending them both to the floor in a flailing heap.

Count waited for them to calm down, then reached down and took the camera from CJ.

What he considered to be his heart nearly broke at the panicked, puppy dog eyes CJ gave him. “I’m merely taking the footage. You know I can’t be shown to the public.” He delicately extracted the SD card from the camera, and handed it back to CJ.

CJ sighed in relief and hugged the camera to his chest. He gave Count a sheepish smile and gave a small head nod towards MC. Count gave a nod back. He knew that the twins never did anything to cause trouble intentionally, they were simply having their fun.

MC dramatically pouted, “We’ll need a new SD card and new footage. Oh! Maybe we can watch Doc do an operation. LET’S GO JIM!!” 

Count shook his head as he watched the two scamper off.

Children indeed.

[sierracolorstheworldofwords]

EGOTOBER day 29- Count iplier and reader

An: This is a gender neutral reader wooo also! I used @justwritingscibbles and this is her oc! (Which I didn’t know at the time I was writing this story, because I just thought count was a fandom ego, but yeah) so PLEASE go check out her blog! Because she deserves the views and reads!

The wind whispered cold outside of the old house, caressing the black wooden walls with red leafy fingers. Inside, the wind was not so gentle— it howled and shrieked in old abandoned halls, rattled pots and pans in the kitchen, and screamed with delight in each and every stairway, dancing with the ghoul who haunts the hallways.

Long ago, the ghoul had been rich, young.. that is all they can remember— that they had a life before, where they could not dance with the wind, or waltz with the dark cats and bats of the lovely night. Before, they did not love night, did not wish for the sun to rest and set, did not wish for darkness… but now, now they craved it like chocolate. They craved the soft smoky violet sky and the twinkling of the stars.

The night had been like any other, it was autumn, late autumn, to be exact. The trees were scarcely covered, but still shedding leaves the color of sunsets. The ghoul loved autumn, because the leaves always kept them company during that time, and the wind, chill and brisk, came to visit like an old friend. Lurking in the hallways and whispering songs of colder lands.

The ghoul had been too busy dancing and listening to the stories of the winter breeze, that they didn’t hear the front door creak open.

The wind stopped blowing, swirling around them in caution, saying softly, someone is in the house! Someone is in the house!

The ghoul, (Y/n), looked around, clothes and hair flowing softly as they did. They listened, hearing footsteps echo down the empty halls. They heard the floorboards creak and moan. They felt the wind disappear swiftly out the window of the old bedroom. (Y/n) sighed, and then turned towards the door, floating out.

They went down the hall, and down the stairs, frowning all the way, hating the human who scared the wind away. That wind only came around this time of year, and was the only one who stayed to keep them company. The other winds never did that. No matter how much they begged.

Standing at the bottom stair, they looked around the living room, seeing a cloaked man. Their eyebrows furrowed in anger, lips twisting into a scowl.

“Why are you in my house?!” They asked. They didn’t expect an answer. They only expected to be ignored again. But still— they were so angry! How dare this stupid human come into their house, uninvited?!

The figure, clearly startled, turned, much to their surprise. Gathering courage, they puffed up their chest, “Well?! Don’t you know it’s rude to enter someone’s house without permission?!”

The red eyed, pale man blinked, before catching himself, “I’m terribly sorry, I didn’t know that there was anyone living here.”

The figure (who (Y/n) assumed was a he) had an.. almost.. comical voice. He sounded like that teen who came in a few years ago, dressed like a vampire, clearly faking their accent. The mysterious man’s voice didn’t sound fake at all.

“I do hope I haven’t upset you— you see, I heard this house was.. well, abandoned, and decided to look around, since it seemed like a nice place.”

(Y/n) but their fists on their hips, raising an eyebrow, “Nice?”

“Well… yes, for someone of my kind, you see.”

They nodded, lips pressed into a firm line, “Your kind?”

The man nodded, eyes glowing like two flaming rubies in the moonlight, “I’m a vampire, you see.”

“Uh huh. A vampire— and I’m still alive.”

The man frowned, “I will prove it.”

(Y/n) sighed, desperate to get this man out of their house, “Go ahead.”

Suddenly, a swarm of smoke invaded the room, and a bat flew where the man once was. (Y/n) blinked in surprise, but then rolled their eyes.

“You said vampire, not a magician.”

The bat growled before turning into a man once more, “Do you not see my fangs?”

“Fangs?”

The man flashed his teeth, and a pair of pearly fangs sparked in the moonlight.

“Those could be fakes.”

“My claws? My accent? Do these not scream vampire?”

“They scream costume. It is Halloween, isn’t it?”

The man laughed, “Oh that was a month ago!”

“How do I know you aren’t lying?”

“Why would I dress up as a vampire and go into an old house?”

“Why not? Maybe to take a photo.”

The man groaned in frustration, “I really am a vampire. And I do not need to prove it to a stupid ghost!”

(Y/n) stuck out their tongue, “And I don’t need a fake vampire invading my house!”

“Well! I need somewhere to stay! A place to put my coffin so I can be closer to my family!”

(Y/n) blinked, “Family?”

“Yes.. my family, they live close by.”

The ghoul sighed, feeling a softness bloom in their chest. The man— vampire, whatever he was, seemed lonely, saying those words. (Y/n) knew the feeling.

“Fine, you can stay— but if you aren’t what you claim, you’ll pay.. dearly.”

The supposed vampire smiled, “My name is count, and yours?”

“(Y/n).”

Count smiled, “Well, it was nice to meet you.. I have to go, for dawn is soon, and I must get my coffin. I’ll be back tomorrow night.”

The ghoul rolled their eyes, doubting what he said, “Alright, see you tomorrow night.”

“See you.”

The Count left, and (Y/n) swore they saw him disappear, but figured it was just another trick. Humans could be like that, full of tricks.

The next night, the wind visited, shrieking down the halls, brining leaves with it, (Y/n) danced with the cold once more, listening to its stories. Just as the night before, they were too caught up in its song.

Oh! Someone is in the house again!

The wind whispered, causing the ghoul to sigh.

“It’s the same human from yesterday.”

That’s no human!

“What?”

That’s a vampire! I’ve seen them so many times, have blown over their cold skin..

the wind shivered, scattering leaves across the room before leaving once more, howling out the window.

They went downstairs again, seeing the Count, who held a coffin.

“Hello.” He said, smiling.

“Hello.”

“Are you really a vampire?”

“Yes— and are you really a ghost?”

“Well, no… not exactly. I'm a ghoul.”

“Oh, my mistake.”

“It’s alright..” (Y/n) paused, “Here, I’ll show you a place to put your coffin, somewhere nice and dark.”

“Thank you.”

They showed him to a bedroom underneath a tree. The curtains had survived the years of neglect, and covered the windows.

The count smiled, “This is perfect. I’ll have to buy new curtains, but otherwise it’s wonderful! Thank you for letting me stay!”

“You’re welcome.” (Y/n) smiled, not feeling so lonely anymore.

[justwritingscibbles]

Feeding Is Natural

Fic Request:  Mama Scribs!!!!!!!! Could I request a small fic where the female reader offers count to feed from her because he was weakened by something? He doesn't want to but he's very hungry

Don’t know who Count Iplier is? He’s my Iplier!Vampire OC. Check him out!

“You were lucky you weren’t burnt to a crisp!” You exclaimed. Concern flushing through you as you hurriedly closed all the windows of the room.  Dawn had come swiftly on Count. Blood was still fresh from his last feeding; but he felt like he hadn’t had a drop for weeks.  The Sun drained it from him. Burning it up inside him until it bubbled and boiled his his veins.  Count had barely made it to your home in time. Crashing through the window in a shower of glass. Jerking you out of sleep as he stumbled into the wall with a heavy thud.  He was so weak, he couldn’t even get up to close the curtains. 

“I..lost track... of time....” Count mumbled through weak lips. He shielded his eyes from the blast of light that came from your lamp. He winced; weakened by the Sun’s touch that even the warmth of your hand felt like a fire against his undead skin.  You heaved him to his feet and half carried him, half helped him over to your bed. Where he collapsed down on the blankets. Leaning against his knees as he barely held himself upright to keep himself from hitting the ground.

“You look horrible.” It probably wasn’t the right thing to say to a Vampire that just came out of the Sunlight.  But Count’s neck was splattered with blood. Both deep crimson from a person, and a dark tar like substance; his blood that came from the wounds caused by the Sun.  Luckily, he had enough strength to heal them over before messing up your bed. But that was all he could do now. Breath heavily and try not to pass out from his version of blood loss. 

“Give me...a moment...” Count huffed. Coughing harshly into the material of his coat. Dark blood stained the clothing and you watched, with growing concern, as Count’s eyes fluttered between open and close.

You pulled back your sweater material, exposing your bare wrist and shoved it under Count Iplier’s nose.  He hissed and recoiled. Almost falling onto his back in the hurry to shove your skin away.  “(Y/N)....don’t....” 

“It’s alright, Count. You’ve fed from me before. Just take a little bit and you can rest here until the Sun goes down.” You moved on the bed so you were sitting directly beside him.  He was in no condition to try and fight you as you pressed your wrist against his lips. He groaned against your arm. And you felt his tongue slither out and brush against your skin. 

Count’s eyes faded into the colour red, and he grasped your hand in his. Holding you still as he opened his jaw and pierced your skin with his fangs.  You grimaced at the harsh sting of his teeth sinking into your veins. You looked away. Trying to distract yourself from the sensation of Count drawing blood from your body.  His arm wrapped around your waist. Keeping you close, and offering you some sort of comfort.  Count understood this was not disgusting or scary for you. But he still very much disliked drinking from you. Especially when he was so weak.

He pulled back with a gurgled hiss. His tongue licked along the wounds his teeth made. Making sure the bleeding has stopped as he used the handkerchief from his pocket to press against your wrist.  It was usually saved for cleaning up his mouth. But you were more important right now. 

“How are you feeling?” Count asked. His voice had a lot more strength in it now he had fed. But with his depleted hunger, came the flood of worry and guilt. He took too much.  That was obvious as you nodded. A sluggish like movement with a sudden glaze passing over your eyes.  He sat up and helped you lay back against the bed. Resting your head against the pillows as he carefully watched your face.  You were coming too. But when your focused on Count, he was relieved, but not surprised, to find you smiling smugly up at him. 

“See. Feeding is natural. You were ok.” You said. Causing Count to huff a gentle laugh. With his worry soothed; Count settled in beside you. Tucking the blanket around you as you rolled onto your side to cuddle into him.  It wasn’t unusual for this to happen between the two of you.  But right now, Count was still too weak to leave. And with the Sun rising even higher, he was stuck here until dusk.  You however, would need a little assistance until you regained your blood levels back. 

“Still, with me being so weak you should have been careful.” Count mumbled. Sighing when you grumbled your argument. Nothing more than a mocking imitation of Count’s worried expression. “You’re such a thorn in my side, darlin’.” 

“But I’m your favourite thorn.” You said with a soft smile. You hugged him with what little strength you had and felt your interrupted sleep begin to creep back. Count hid the smile in your hair as he pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead. He let himself close his eyes and fall into slumber alongside you.

[freckled-words]

Count The Teeth - Part Nine

Alright. Here we are. The point to which I’ve caught up to my writing, AND IT’S STILL NOT DONE DANG IT!

But I’m not abandoning this just because spooky month is over after today. This story is done when it is done by Joe!!!

There will no longer be a daily update however :(

The two cameo characters in this chapter belong to @justwritingscibbles​ and are being used with her permission.

Edited by @the-wild-ego​

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT

When you stepped through the opening, and back into the garden, you found a world of chaos and Hell fire.

Hell fire particularly came to mind, due to the fact that there were burning craters with blue black flames peppered throughout the garden. Blue fire was not natural. The only time you’d seen blue flames, was on Hades in the movie ‘Hercules’. Aka the God ruling over the underworld. 

A blur of blue and black flew past you, close enough that a light searing heat grazed over your nose.

It crashed down into the ground, creating another crater. From where you stand, you could make out Mercer and… was that… NateMare?

Your stomach rolled with the threat to eject. 

His face was half melted off, his hair was on fire or had become fire? 

Just what the Hell was he?!

Mercer and NateMare were oblivious to your return.

Mercer took hold of NateMare’s jacket collar and, using his weight, flipped NateMare over his hip and back into the ground. Not giving NateMare an opening, Mercer pressed his foot to NateMare’s throat.

One thing Mercer had noticed during the fight, was NateMare’s inability to turn to smoke. It seemed that in his full form, he lost certain powers in exchange for his Hell fire. As soon as Mercer had made this connection, he’d taken full advantage. 

To NateMare’s credit, his full form did allow him greater strength and speed. Enough so to make a near equal match to Mercer. 

Mercer’s flawless skin was marked from dirt, soot, and a smattering of burns slowly healing. His clothes had been torn and scorched in patches, showing where NateMare had managed to get hits in. 

One thing Mercer was constantly watching for, was how much air NateMare drew in at a time. If NateMare was given a chance, and enough air, he could unleash a scream that could cause even a vampire fatal damage. 

It was said that a Hell Banshee’s wail could send the soul of any creature straight to the depths of Hell. 

That was, of course, the exaggerated telling from lore. 

An acquaintance had corrected him, informing him that it was the force of the decibels in the wail that caused damage. It wasn’t that a creature’s soul was sent to Hell. Merely that their brains couldn’t handle the force and the victims were instantaneously killed.

As he had superior senses to a mortal, Mercer was certain that NateMare could-- at best-- render him unconscious. 

Rather than try to remove Mercer’s foot, NateMare grinned and pointed his palms up towards Mercer’s face. Mercer leaned back and out of the way of the streams of blue flames that erupted from NateMare’s hands. The skin on the left side of his face blackened and cracked as the heat from the flames vaporized the moisture. 

The last time you’d seen Mercer, he had appeared to you as a flawless, older version of NateMare. That image of him must have been an illusion. 

You were inching your way closer towards them, allowing you to see the fury, loathing, and pain that tore away his ethereal appearance. His lips drawn back in a snarl showed that it was more than just his canines that were fangs, all of his teeth were sharpened points. The red from his irises bled into the whites, making it hard to tell where his irises even were. 

These were monsters that had taken the form of men. 

And here you were, walking straight up to them. 

‘I have a death wish. It’s the only answer.’

Your mind was at war with your body. 

With each step closer, your legs threatened to give out on you. Each grunt, growl, or twitch from the two you were approaching made you flinch. Your body wanted to run as far away as possible.

Yet, your mind was overriding your body and forcing each step closer. There was someone out here that had wanted to help you. They’d freed you from NateMare’s curse and their note had hinted that this would also do something about Mercer. Hell, you were even betting it would put a dampener on NateMare, too.

‘Just a little bit closer.’

You took another couple steps and you were right behind them. 

Your fingers fumbled with the cap on the flask. You watched NateMare to see if he’d noticed you.

You thought you saw his head turn a fraction towards your direction.

The cap came off and Mercer’s shoulders tensed.

His body shifted, turning to face you.

Remembering what had happened the last time you met his eyes, you closed yours and with a small prayer, you swing your arm up and round to the side to send the contents out of the flask.

Having an idea of what was in the flask, NateMare took hold of Mercer’s leg and held tight. He closed his eyes and waited for the pain.

Mercer felt its purity the second the flask had been opened. He wrenched against NateMare’s hold on his leg and was met with more pain as NateMare used his flames to sink his fingers in for a better hold.

Had your eyes been open, you would have seen the magic of the flask. As it were, you certainly felt it.

As anyone in the Doctor Who fandom would quote, “It’s bigger on the inside.”

It was more than just a cup of water that came free from the flask. A geyser of water erupted from the flask. The force of it knocked you back a couple feet.

Over the roar of the water, you heard the agonized screams from both Mercer and NateMare.

*****

Two shadows watched from the trees nearby.

“Did you have to give the mortal the flask? We could have dealt with them both… I really liked that flask.” One grouched, shifting on the branch he perched upon. Tiny, softly glowing, green moths fluttered around him. Some landed on his shoulders, to which he ignored.

The other stroked the head of a little brown bat. It wasn’t one of his, but he would not take any ill actions out upon an innocent creature, bound to do another’s bidding. As the geyser from the flask ebbed to a trickle, he focused his sight onto the two steaming individuals that had been in the water’s path.

“We could have, yes, but that wouldn’t have done anything to nudge that one to a more… progressive mindset. Besides, I don’t like getting my hands dirty in another family’s dispute.” 

Marquess made a noise that could be a cross between a laugh and a snort, “You sure don’t mind meddling though.”

Count smiled then, his fangs glinting in the shadows, “Let’s call this a special circumstance that warranted such actions.” he nudged the bat, urging it to fly over to the mortal.

It gave a tiny ‘squee’ of protest to being sent away, but did as it was told. As it took flight, so, too, did the observers. 

[justwritingscibbles]

How You Interact: Morning Routines

This wasn't requested but I love writing domestic things with the egos.

Marvin the Magnificent

Marvin is an early riser. He likes getting up just as the sun is peaking over the horizon. If you're not a morning person, Marvin will try to be quiet as possible rolling out of bed and getting ready for the day. Pressing a kiss to your forehead before leaving the room. But he'll come back to bring you your preferred morning beverage as you start to wake up.

Bim Trimmer

Due to his weekly schedule of getting up early, Bim is always awake at ridiculous times. Even on his days off, his mind is still in work mode. But he likes to snuggle with you before dragging himself out of bed. Wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into the crook of your neck. Moaning and groaning about what he had to for the show today. He usually presses snooze once or twice on his alarms, wanting more cuddle time with you.

Count Iplier

Because of his nature, Count goes to sleep just as you're waking up. He'll climb under the blankets and cuddle with you till you absolutely need to get up. Murmuring against your neck with soft pleas to have you stay in bed. Ignoring any alarms you have, and peppering kisses along your cheek and jawline. Making you laugh with his tickling fingers against your sensitive spots. Even though Count cannot spend the sunlight hours with you, he wants you to have a smiling start to your day.

[justwritingscibbles]

You Can Count On Me

For Friday 13th I wanted to write something different than the usual boys. So I hope you guys don’t mind me throwing these guys around. And I hope you all like a little Vampire story-telling.

It’s not scary but I wanted to write something different for a change.

The instant you stepped off the train and into the darkening streets, you knew it had been a bad idea to come home at this time. Even Dark, upon getting your text messages scolded you fiercely for the decision.  “You are aware of what day it is, yes?” His growl of a voice vibrated through the phone’s speaker. You sheepishly nodded, even though you knew Dark wouldn’t see it.  “Yes, yes, Friday the 13th. I’m aware. I’ll speed walk home, it won’t take long.”  “The Manor is at least six blocks away from the train station, (y/n). And you need to walk through the side streets to get here. No, stay there and I’ll come and get you.” Dark’s voice held no room for an argument. But you were already two blocks away from the station. And upon hearing his, Dark grunted. A noise that sounded between a heavy sigh and a feral growl. “Fine. If you are so intent on getting yourself killed then I have no voice in your decision.”  You rolled your eyes at Dark’s dramatics. He always complained about Wilford’s exaggerations and then he goes and says things like that. The two could rival one another on theatrics. But you knew he was only getting irritated, and dare you say concerned, about you walking home at night. While you’ve been away, there had been string of murders in the area. And the very thought had you walking a little faster when you remembered Google’s explanation on the gory details. Something you had asked him for over the phone while on your holiday. You didn’t learn quickly enough to be careful what you ask of Google. The Android didn’t know how to filter details.  “I’ll be ok. My battery is dying so I need to go. But I’ll call you when I’m close.” You said and Dark made another exasperated sigh.  “You better. And if you take too long, we’re all going out to look for you. And you won’t like it if I find you first, (y/n).”  “I know. Trust me, I won’t be stopping to pet any stray animals. I’ll see you soon.” You hung up after that remark. Pocketing your phone but keeping a tight grip on it.

Every shadow seemed to mock you as you walked. The lights were a lot dimmer than you remember. But then again, it was cloudy night. The full moon was peeking through the rain clouds to cast it’s silver glow over the streets. It was eerie. But you were glad for the luminescence. You turned a corner and halted your steps for a moment. A man stood in the centre of the street. He was thin, facing away from you. But the shadows from the very dim street lights cast a shadow over him. Making him appear to be a shadow himself. You didn’t know whether you should turn back around or keep walking. But your decision was made when you blinked and the figure disappeared. You stayed there for a moment, looking around for the man, but continued walking when you found no-one. Your skin crawled with a shiver and you couldn’t help but survey the area around you. There was a sensation on your back, like a pressure. You knew this feeling from living with the Ipliers for so long.  You were being watched.  Your footsteps sped up. Gripping your phone tightly you deeply regretted not accepting Dark’s offer to pick you up. A sound carried on the wind. A giggle. Or a high pitched cackle. You weren’t sure, but it unnerved you and soon enough you sped up to a jog. You were about to turn a corner when something snagged your elbow and jerked you into the shadows of a building. A figure loomed over you. Reeking of a metallic scent and their grip soaked your jacket with some kind of warm liquid. Through the gloom, your gaze was transfixed by the stranger’s. They were warm and pools of sparkling emeralds. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from them. They were beautiful. Even as a clawed hand skimmed under the material of your shirt or as the man’s tongue dashed out to taste your skin, you were stuck. Staring into those green gems.  “Yer not gonna scream for me.” The man’s Irish accent was thick, but it was snatched up by the rumble that radiated off his chest. “And yer gonna stay still while I treat myself.”  You found your head bobbing on it’s own. Even as your eyes widen when the man leaned down, you didn’t fight his lips brushing over your neck. Your mind willed for him to stop, but your body molded into his as he drew you closer. 

“Release them. Now.” Another voice boomed and suddenly the green-eyed man was thrown away from you. The haze lifted and you stumbled back. Straight into a pair of arms that cradled you against a firm chest. You shook your head to get rid of the fog in your mind, looking up as a monster rushed towards you. In a blur of movement, you were swept into your rescuers arms and soaring into the air. You were set down on the roof of the building as the man landed on it. He barely made a noise as he did and you turned to him. Backing away when the moon’s glow lit his face.  “D-Dark?” You asked. But it wasn’t him, something was off about his gaze. His complexion sharing that hint of difference to Mark’s appearance.  “I’m afraid not, my dear. But introductions will have to wait.” His voice held a hint of Transylvanian accent. Like the ones in movies. The man moved you behind him, keeping his arm raised as something crawled over the side of the building and onto the roof.  Anti... No. Again, the resemblance to the Youtuber was almost identical. Save for the glowing green eyes, that seemed to swirl in their sockets. Like small colored vortex’s.  “I told you this was my hunting ground, Count.” A hiss of a voice echoed over the roof to you. “That mortal is mine.”  “They are beginning to suspect you, Marquess.” The man, Count, said in a calm but firm tone. “And we never agreed on hunting grounds. This is my land by right. My brethren live in this area. If you do not stop they will come after you.”  The other man, Marquess, moved forward. His steps graceful and light, like a dancer.  “I do not care for brethren like you do, Count Iplier.  Or else I would have scurried to my “kin” as you call them, long ago.” Marquess stepped closer. And Count moved you back. The cloak of his outfit brushed against your skin and you felt a chill run through you. Had that just moved against you?  “I won’t say again, Marquess Septiceye, leave this area. Before you make me do something I do not want to do.” There was an undertone to Count’s voice. It reminded you of Dark, when he was beginning to lose control of his shell. But this man didn’t seem to be getting angry, only impatient. And even so, he showed no emotion but a small crinkle around his gaze. 

“Then battle me, Count. Let’s fight for these bloodbags.” Marquess leapt into a sprint before he finished speaking. He left a cloud of dust in his wake and you barely saw him move before Count had him by the throat, and threw him into the ground. His cloak exploded and rose high above Count. Looming over him like a beast as he bared two fang like canines at the fallen man.  “I do not want to battle you. Purely for the sake of keeping this human from seeing our true faces. This one is under my protection. I will not let a dear friend to the Iplier Manor fall victim to rabble like you!”  The shadow beast crashed down on the Septic Ego and then lifted off into the sky. It left it’s master on the roof but carried Marquess high into the air before erupting into what appeared to be hundreds of small bats.  Count turned to you as the sound of the other man’s crying filled the night sky.  “My apologies, my dear. If I had known you were arriving tonight, I would have escorted you home myself.”  You were unable to speak. Your eyes widening further as the swarm of bats dived down to gather around Count’s back. Reforming his cloak just as the other Ego plummeted into the alley beside the building. You didn’t hear a splat or a cry of pain, so you could only suspect that the man had landed neatly and ran off.  But your guess was shattered when a green cloud of crackling vapor shot into the air and dived towards you. You saw a misty form of reaching claws and eyes that glowed brighter than lightening as the mist raced towards you.  Suddenly you were enveloped in a chilling cloud of black as Count flew his cloak around you. It was like being wrapped in a thick furry blanket, but it was as cold as ice. It shook as the vapor struck it. A screech of fury from the other being could be heard and then a bellowing roar filled the air as Count spun, swiping at Marquess as he formed flesh. Black claws raked down the Septiceye’s chest and he reeled back as Count charged forward. His eyes ablaze with a deep pink brillance. The same swirling vortex sight filling his iris’.  “Leave, Marquess. Or I will make sure your coffin stays shut forever!” Count bellowed. The air shaking with his voice.  Marquess hissed and disappeared over the side of the building. You stayed silent for what felt like an eternity. Waiting for the Septic-Ego to come back. It was only when Count turned to you, his eyes had returned to normal. But you could see the tips of his fangs poking out from beneath his lips.  “Excuse my indecency. That creature brings out the worse in me.” Count said. His voice careful but smooth. It reminded you of Dark when he was trying to coax you into calming down.  “I...I’m sorry, I’m kinda of in shock right now. Who are you?” You forced the words out so you weren’t standing there like a fish gasping for air. Count smiled patiently and nodded, bowing and sweeping his arm in a gracious curtsy.  “I am Count Iplier, my dear. And I must apologize again for my ignorance. It is true I have yet to make myself known to the rest of my kin. But I know all about you and the other Ipliers. I wanted to know if this...Manor was of my tastes and I had to investigate it. And I must say, my kin aren’t exactly.... altogether.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle. Nodding in agreement. “They’re a bunch of strange men. Who are probably out hunting for me right now.” You quickly checked your phone and cursed quietly. You should have at least reached the Manor’s security border by now. Google would have seen you on the cameras and no doubt would have sent Dark out to escort you the rest of the way. Count looked off into the distance. His eyes narrowing a little and he offers you a gloved hand.  “Perhaps it is time for me to introduce myself to the rest of my brothers. Would you like assistance getting off this roof, my dear?” He asked, as casually as you would when asking someone if they wanted a glass of water. You rolled your eyes, already seeing the resemblance between this man and the others. You took the offered hand, the leather rather cold against your skin, and the man pulled you tightly against his side. Count guided you to the edge of the roof, holding you steady when you wobbled from looking down, and then dropped.  You yelped loudly, but Count was careful to hold you so he landed first and could soften you fall by lowering you gently to the floor. 

Dark heard the yelp echo through the streets and made a beeline for you. He stalked through the shadows, coming into the street just as you did. His snarl was beyond furious and you backed up a little when he closed in.  “I gave you a fair warning to what will happen if you take your time-” But Dark’s threat was cut off by Count stepping out of the shadows. The two regarded each other for a long, tense moment. And you could practically feel the air between them ripple with suspicion.  “I take it you are the cause of all these deaths.” Dark’s tone returned to it’s natural calm drawl. And the Count nodded.  “A few. But the real culprit is Marquess Septiceye. Another Vampire Ego. I’d suggest retreating the others to the Manor. He’s been feasting for three days. He’s strong if you’re caught in single combat.” Count replied in an equally cool tone. You dearly hoped these two kept on good terms. You knew how younger Egos weren’t as strong as the popular, older Egos. But you had a feeling that Count was a threat in his own right. Being a....Vampire.  Your thoughts were scattered when Dark’s firm gaze turned back on you.  “We aren’t done. But I will save your scolding when we get home.” Dark took a firm hold of your elbow and went to drag you behind him when he quickly spun back around.  His fingers came away wet with red liquid, and he quickly removed your jacket to inspect the area.  “Marquess had recently fed.” Count informed Dark, as the Ego withdrew his hands and returned your jacket upon seeing no injury. “He is covered in blood. You will smell him before you see him.”  You didn’t want to put the jacket back on. The red stain sickened you. And now you could feel the blood sticking to your arm that had soaked through your coat. Count seemed to sense your unease and took the jacket from you. His eyes strayed on the stain for a second longer than was necessary. But he nodded to you, trailing along behind you and Dark as the older Ego led the way home.

[justwritingscibbles]

Just  A Thought

Again with the cuddling thing because, cuddles are amazing. 

The first time you snuggle into Count’s side, he freezes up and his body locks in place. He didn’t expect you to move so close. Especially with your knowledge of his habits and nature. Even with the cold radiance Count has, you tuck yourself under his arm and lean into his side. Your head gently resting on his shoulder and Count’s mind had stopped working for a moment. 

But after some time of coming to terms that you did in fact want to cuddle with him, Count would lower his arms and hold you carefully in his embrace. Lazily running his fingers through your hair and leaning his cheek against your head. It’s the first time in a long time that Count got to be close to someone living, warm and soft, without having them pleading for their life or him drinking from them. He finds himself enjoying the small touches, and even shyly politely asks for him to hold you whenever the two of you are relaxing.

[justwritingscibbles]

Head-Canons: Count Iplier (Vampire!Mark)

(I wanted to do a head-canon fic so everyone got to know this character better. Hope you enjoy)

- Is pretty much the stereotypical Vampire. No no, to sunlight. Sleeps all day. Doesn’t like silver. He doesn’t like garlic purely because it tastes bad. Very pale but can hide in shadows and move quickly without being seen. Very strong and a very quick sprinter. 

- He’s not one for displaying his Vampiric tendencies (like flashing his fangs, growling or making his eyes glow.) It only happens when he needs to be threatening or hasn’t fed in some time. 

- He’s rather polite, very old fashioned when it comes to speaking with others and interacting with groups of people. He’s very patient and likes others company. But he also likes being alone with books or meditating to better his control over his unholy nature. 

- Those he considers friends are always protected. He’s very considerate and is one of the few Egos that are capable of having friends without using some type of magic or blackmail.

- Count likes to be very clean and presentable. Always wearing nice clothing and he moves with the grace you’d expect from someone like him. 

- His accent is constantly layered with a power to sway others. Similarly to Dark, Count can manipulate others to do his bidding. His voice isn’t the strongest method, but it’s the most subtle. If he wants to make a true slave out of someone, he needs them to hold his gaze for no more than three seconds and his control is embedded in their mind. 

- When he is speaking with someone he doesn’t want under his influence, he will constantly break eye contact. Making sure that they don’t look at one another for too long.

- Those that do become slaves are very Zombie-Like, in the sense they can’t really speak without him using their minds to project a voice. If he gives them an order, they will do everything to make sure it is done. He needs to be very specific in his wording. Or else they will harm themselves and others to complete the task. Or possibly do/retrieve/ say something wrong. 

- When he is done with them, he’ll simply break the connection between them. Like flicking a switch in his head.

- He’ll use this to gain access to people’s houses. Its a dirty trick, but without permission from the owner, Count cannot enter a person’s household. It’s a Vampire legend that he hates, simply because that makes going to parties or gatherings tricky because needs to wait for the host to come and greet and welcome him in.

- Count is always seen with a thick cloak of black. This is another ability he uses, a type of control over a swarm of bats that are always nearby. They are his eyes and ears when they are not clinging to the material. 

- However, when the creatures are attached to the cloak, they become apart of it and Count covers them in a layer of shadows. They are small enough that you cannot see them under the layer, but if you were to lay your hand on the cloak, you can feel them moving a little. 

- Like Vampires in mythology, he can transform into a type of dark mist or fog. He can spread himself out over fields if need be. Or become a fast moving cloud to cover distance quickly. And when he’s feeling like it, Count can become a large black dog or become a bat in his swarm. 

- You can tell the difference between him and other animals by the slight pink/red glow around his pupils.

- When it comes to feeding, he prefers consensual feeding. He’ll swoon or ask someone to allow him to feed from them. He doesn’t like drinking from ones he considers close friends or allies, but if desperate it’s not off the table. 

- Otherwise, Count will use his eye-sight to sway someone to let him feed from them. He’ll drink enough that they won’t feel terribly woozy or nauseous. But they will feel a little bit tired afterwards.