#readerxkrolock

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

🫀𝔐𝔶 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡 𝔦𝔰 𝔐𝔶 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡🥀

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

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

🔺️🔻🔺️🔻🔺️🔻🔺️🔻🔺️🔻🔻🔺️🔻🔺️🔻🔺️🔻

Chapter 1 - The Journey

It all began when I was dispatched from the city to deal with some minor affairs, property deeds and such, for him. The creaking of the carriage was too jarring for me to relax as I reached the final stretch of the journey and it had begun to grow dark. After my stay the previous night in the nearest village, I had found the locals exceedingly bizarre in their superstitions and behaviours, and as such, decided to leave bright and early to press on to the castle.

As soon as we had reached the steep valleys the roads became winding and gravelly and here, in the dense forest, they were little more than dirt tracks. The trees walled the carriage in on both sides and the ground was a little muddy from last nights heavy rain. The horses flared their nostrils and exhaled great clouds of steam as their hooves beat down upon the earth. I had been given very little description of the gentleman with whom I was being dispatched by the firm to conduct business with. I knew only that he was a wealthy Count, and that he did not mix amongst the other nobility in the city. He instead preferred, it would seem, a rather reclusive life, and was seldom seen by outsiders such as myself.

As the journey progressed and the red sun dipped lower and lower towards the mountains, their bare peaks rising on both sides from the dense black forests, I began to grow a little aprehensive. I had heard strange tales about the area: disappearances, of roaming packs of wolves, and enormous bears. It was enough to set the steadiest man on edge, and I was prone to anxiousness. When darkness came it was sudden, and fell like a velvet curtain over the valley, on account of the steep mountains flanking us. The moon was as yet obscured by them too, and the sky was heavy with clouds, creating a kind of pitch black to which I was entirely unaccustomed. The bustling life of the city seemed a distant memory to me now, and one which I desperately pined for.

As the coach driver finally pulled up to the castle, the heavens opened and the rain began to pour. I was rather surprised that no servants came to meet me and so I disembarked with my leather suitcase in hand and my satchel of legal papers hastily slung over my shoulder. Before I had a chance to hesitate and thank the driver with a crack of the whip he urged the horses onward. It seemed that he was all to eager to leave this place, but given that he must make the journey back alone, I could hardly blame him... with a whinny and a clatter of hooves on the cobbled driveway, he disappeared into the darkness.

As I hastily stumbled up the driveway the rain has already permeated my coat. It ran in tiny rivers down the back of my neck and dripped down over my face and into my eyes, making it hard to see ahead of me. By the time I reached the door it seemed as though I was soaked through to the bone and I suppressed a cold shiver as I lifted the large iron knocker as I rapped it against the imposing wooden door a couple of times.

When at first there was no answer, I cursed under my breath, which I could see ise before me in tendrils of steam. As I raised my hand to knock again, the door suddenly creaked open enough to reveal a face peering at me from the dark. I had to catch myself so as not to let out a cry of surprise. After looking me up and down the door was opened further and the hunched over man behind it beckoned for me to enter. Somewhat apprhensively, I did so as he groaned in greeting. I nodded at him in thanks and resisted the impolite urge to stare at his unsual appearance.

Once I was inside the grand entrance hall, which was several hundred years out of fashion and incredibly dusty, the man heaved the enormous door shut once again and I was barred from the outside world. Tentatively I followed his lead, as he groaned again and gestured for me to do so. He led me through a grand central room and through a series of increasingly narrowing and winding passageways to a room in one of the turrets. It was as old and dusty as the entrance hall but the bed did appear to have been made up and the servant lit several candles for me. I placed my bags upon the floor and looked to the servant once more. He beckoned once again for me to follow him and despite my protests that I should like to change before meeting my client, was roughly grabbed and pushed out of the door and down the hallway.

We finally came to a stop inside a room with a large dinning table which was odly only set for one. There was a roaring fire burning in the grate of a huge ornate mantlepiece and unlike the rest of the castle, this room was pleasantly warm. After the servant loped over to the table and drew back a chair, I quickly sat down so as not to be rude. My clothes clung uncomfortably to me and I shivered with the cold and rubbed my hands together frantically. The warmth of the fire could not come soon enough and I wished to get out of my seat and stand beside it.

"I am sorry that I did not greet you earlier, I had urgent business to attend to..."

I turned, a little startled by the sudden voice, to see my host had entered through the double doors to the left. He spoke in a voice as smooth as fine silk, unlike any other I had ever heard. I was frozen for a moment, eyes fixed on the tall dark figure with unbridled fascination - until I hurriedly remembered my manners and stood to greet him.

"(Y/n)," I said, extending my hand.

"(Y/n)..." he said, thoughtfully, dark eyes searching mine with an intensity that made me a little uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry that I look so dishevlled, the driver refused to come up all the way to the gate and it was raining so heavily".

"Please, do not apologise. I am sorry to hear that you have been treated so, I can see that you are wet and cold."

He turned to his servant.

"Koukol, go and make up a fire in the guest room, we don't want him to freeze to death."

And with that, Koukol, as I now knew he was called, shuffled off and closed the door behind him, leaving the two of us alone.

To the Next Chapter ⬇️

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader Warnings: Some mild violence and gore (in keeping with the level you might read in classic gothic literature

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

🦉𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔱 🦇

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

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

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Chapter 1 - The Storm

The night was bitterly cold. The wind tore through the trees, their shadowy limbs lit by fierce lightning strikes. The rain poured from rolling black clouds and turned the road beneath the carriage to a slurry of mud. The only sounds over the booming thunder were the shouting of the driver as he cursed and wrestled with the dangerous conditions and that of the horses panic. You clutched your rosary tight against your bodice and prayed for safety as you were jolted around in your seat. The flashes illuminated flashes of the thick forest and steep cliffs. It shouldn't have been far to the village, where you hoped the locals would take pity on you and put you up for the night. You'd protested that the weather was on the turn and that it was dangerous to leave, but your step mother, eager to sell you off to a distant count, would hear none of it. Your mother died when you were too young to remember and your father had passed last summer. No sooner was he gone than your step mother fixed to marry you off so that you were no longer her concern. You had always resented her bad treatment of you, but this was enough to stir feelings of pure hatred into you.

The feeling of impending doom was too much - from what little interaction you had with your future bridegroom, you knew him to be three things. Old, cruel, and domineering. You might have cried, when you first learned of your fate, you had. You had cried for nights on end. Now it seemed there were no tears left.

Suddenly, the coach lurched first to the right, then to the the left with tremendous force. The horses whinnying sounded like screams and the driver cried out. Before you could react you were thrown across the box and everything went black.

Whether you had blacked out for seconds or hours, at first you couldn't tell. As your vision slowly swam back into focus, you became aware that the carriage had tipped onto its side. Gasping in pain as you examined yourself for serious injury, you were at least relieved to have found none  and used your boot to put the glass pane of the window out. Crawling out into the mud, you saw the horrible sight of the accident before you - the driver was dead, there was no doubting it, and all but one of the four horses were nowhere to be seen, broken loose from their tack. The one left was struggling in the mud, panicked and confused.

You unhooked it and, with some difficulty given your manner of dress and injuries, mounted it. It seemed to calm down a little. You were unsure what to do but soon resolved to keep moving once you heard the howl of the wolves. Staying put would be deeply unwise for the both of you, so you set off at a gallop along the muddy road towards the nearest dwelling in sight - an old castle looming over the valley.

When you arrived at the door, you and the horse were run ragged, soaked to the bone, covered in mud and could run no longer. Feebly you called out for help and used the great iron knocker on the thick oak door. Stumbling then, you slipped to the floor and found yourself gazing up at the moon. The clouds had finally parted and it shone with white brilliance down upon the castle. You felt yourself slipping out of consciousness then, and everything began to blur leaving only the throbbing pain in your head.

To the next chapter ⬇️

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader Warnings: Some mild violence and gore (in keeping with the level you might read in classic gothic literatu

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

🦉𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔱 🦇

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

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

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Chapter 18 - Finale

He pushed you, not hard, but enough to topple your balance, and you tumbled over the edge. The air began to rush around you as you dropped over the precipice and down into the darkness like a stone. You were too paralysed by fear even to scream and you braced yourself for an impact...

which never came. You were swept into the folds of Krolock's soft cloak as he clutched you tightly to him and returned to the balcony.

As soon as your feet were solidly on the ground, the Count swiftly stepped in front of you and protectively gestured for you to stay put. As he lunged for the duke the crack of the rifle sounded again - the shot tore through his shoulder, but it only slowed him down a mere second. The panicked duke fumbled in his breast pocket and withdrew a bottle of holy water. He tossed it directly into Krolock's face and he recoiled in pain hissing in fury and stumbling for a moment, clasping his hands over his eyes.

Herbert and his student were fighting the final pair of the duke's men and Koukol was still out cold. There was no one else to help you now.

Before Krolock could recover, a glint of silver under the light of the moon flashed its teeth. Realising that the hunter was two paces from driving the silver stake into Krolock's heart you swiftly grabbed the cutlass from the floor and ran at him.

Putting yourself between them you took up a defensive stance.

"Get out of my way!" He snorted.

"Not for the whole world, I cannot allow you to kill him" you answered resolutely.

He laughed coarsley.

"He is the undead, unholy. If he has no soul then how can he die?"

"What would you know about having a soul? About feeling and compassion?" You spat, fury bubbling up inside.

Krolock's cries of pain were still audible behind you.

"A man must be prepared to set aside such weaknesses, you would not understand... I will warn you once more. Stand aside or I will be forced to hurt you".

You glared at him and tightened your grip on the hilt of the sword.

Seeing that his words had no effect, his hand grasped the dagger. In a flash he lunged forward and having no choice, you thrust your blade forward to meet his attack. There was the scraping of metal on metal, flashing in the moonlight, before it was abrutly over.

The look of surprise in his eyes surely matched your own as you looked down to see that the cupped hilt rested against his abdomen as the blade had pierced him mid forward strike and run him through. With a terrible groan he fell to his knees and in shock you let the sword fall with him. The silver stake slid from his grasp and you hurriedly took it from him and secured it within the tattered remains of your dress.

You were aware that time was short, as you saw the duke hurriedly fumbling with the rifle to reload it. Krolock was still writhing in pain behind you.

With surprising swiftness you pulled the sword from the hunter, bracing your foot against his shoulder to do so, before you crossed the balcony. You grasped the rifle with one hand to push the barrel away. He had just cocked it as you did so and tried to wrench it from you.

You struggled with him for a moment before he threw you against the wall. You still clung to the barrel fiercely, aware that to let go was to die, but the impact and pain of your ribs hitting the stone wall caused you to lose the grip on the sword. As soon as it hit the floor he kicked it aside. You used your free hand to grasp the barrel as well, now more able to push back.

"You could have had everything a young (woman/man/person) in your abject position could ever had hoped to gain." He taunted.

You mangaged to hit him in the face with the barrel by suddenly swapping pulling for pushing. This enraged him further and he freed a hand to slap you across the face. The blow was dizzying and stung terribly.

He finally wrenched the rifle from you and tossed you to the floor. You landed roughly and let out an involuntary cry of pain. Standing over you then he pointed the barrel directly at you.

"Why? I can only assume you have long suffered from an instability of the mind. Why protect this demonic creature?"

Looking up at him you replied:

"He is not the one who attempted to force me into a marriage and stands over me now threatening to end my life... you lack fundamental human understanding and compassion. I could never subjugate myself in such a way as to marry you - not willingly."

No sooner had the words left your mouth before you lunged toward him and drove the silver stake deep into his thigh with as much force as you could muster. He screamed in surprise and the rifle discharged with a deafening crack that echoed from the castle walls.

You fell backwards once more, staring blankly at the starry sky above as all noise was suddenly drowned out by the ringing in your ears. For a brief moment you thought you were still outside the castle door; a lost (girl/boy/child) lying in the snow, exhausted and afraid.

Turning your head to the side your vision slowly swam into focus enough to make out the dark shadow of the Count rushing towards the Duke, who was struggling to remain upright now. The folds of his velvet cape brushed past you where you lay motionless on the cold stone.

In a flash of grey, Herbert's figure also rushed toward your attacker, followed by that of the other vampire. The three of them encircled him and, despite his fervent grovelling, he quickly vanished from sight with a desperate scream as they bore down upon him.

As your other senses slowly returned, a sharp pain in your right thigh made itself known. Everything had the quality of a dream, and you were quite dazed and confused. After withdrawing a hand from the site of the pain it was red and wet - with blood. Your brain struggled for a moment to comprehend that it was your own.

Realising that you were injured, you tried to sit up to assess how badly you were hurt, and found that you could not manage it. The pain was intensifying as you gradually regained clarity of mind.

You gazed up at the starry sky once again and wondered if this really was the end - with a strange and unexpected feeling of detachment about the whole matter. The sky was beautifully clear of clouds and the moon's silver light washed over the valley.

You were only pulled out of the shock when Krolock hurriedly crouched beside you, and gathered you in to his arms. As he cradled you to him and parted the hair which had fallen over your face to the side, the gravity of the situation began to set in.

"Y/n, don't leave me. Listen to me now," he pleaded.

You gazed up at his beautiful dark eyes, and reached a hand up to cup the side of his face.

"I don't have to".

A solitary tear rolled down the vampire's white cheek as he nodded solemnly.

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

🦉𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔱 🦇

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

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

⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰⚰

Chapter 14 - Red Sunset

You quickly set to extinguising the candle flames, plunging the room into total darkness. Stumbling blindly in the dark you felt your way back to the open coffin and clambered inside. The silk was cool and soft against your skin and the heavy aroma of jasmine filled the small space. The angry voices of men accompanied the footsteps now, and they were getting nearer by the second. You waited as long as you could before closing the lid upon yourself - afraid of being trapped inside with only a limited amount of air. At the first flicker of distant torchlight your fear of being discovered took over and you sealed yourself inside, waiting with baited breath.

"I doubt (she's/he's/they're) down here" one man muttered, "I reckon the count's had 'is way with 'em. If it weren't for the dowry and lands, the duke wouldn't be so keen to find 'em, specially now... you know"

You felt rage rising within you - the idea that your worth was so transactional and based upon the concept of chastity infuriated you.

"I wouldn't be so sure: could be hiding anywhere. Best to check every possible spot. Open the coffins," The other one barked at his companion.

The footsteps came closer. You knew then that you were about to be discovered and there was little you could do. You cursed the duke and all his men, not least of all the hunter. The lid was swiftly wrenched open and with a satisfied "in here!", two hairy arms closed around you and dragged you out onto the floor.

Resolving to fight as much as possible you thrashed about wildly, which startled your attacker.

"Don't let go of (her/him/them)!"

As he tried to silence your fervent curses he clamped a hand over your mouth. In response, you clamped your jaws together as hard as you could against his palm.

"Aaagh! The little b*tch bit me!" he screamed, enraged.

Seizing the moment of his shock you worked yourself free and spat his blood to the floor in disgust. Despite escaping his grasp you were now cornered.

Suddenly, there was an almightly crash as the other coffin opened so forcefully that the lid clattered to the floor. Krolock was now stood beside it. He had an expression of pure fury upon his face and an all-consuming fire seemed to dance in his eyes.

"What are you doing in my castle?"

"What in the devil's name are you?" Shouted one of the men as the other crossed himself repeatedly, to no avail.

Disatisfied with their answer he seemed to fade into the shadows at the edge of the room. The man with the torch wheeled about frantically searching for him, only adding to the confusion with the dancing torchlight. Suddenly, his companion was dragged into the darkness with a frantic yelp of suprise which was quickly silenced. You looked on wide eyed in anticipation.

In a flash of the torchlight you saw the dark figure of the count detach itself from the shadows behind the other of the duke's men. With swift ferocity and a flash of long white fangs, Krolock was upon him. It was as if the count from your nightmare had taken over; power and predation, nothing more. His prey dropped the torch to the floor and, still lit, it rolled to a stop at your feet. Picking it up so that you could direct the light to see again it revealed both men lying motionless upon the floor. The count stood still as a marble statue looming over them with an expression of vague annoyance. His mouth was streaked with the crimson red of fresh blood. Turning toward you the stormy expression quickly melted into one of softness and concern.

"Y/n, are you alright?"

In answer you rushed into his arms and embraced him tightly. He stroked the hair on the back of your head softly as he held you to him. As you pulled back to look up at him his brow furrowed.

"You are hurt, my dear. You're bleeding."

Confused you touched a hand to your face and withdrew it to see that there was indeed blood, but no pain. You realised then what the cause of it was and, instinctually, hurriedly wiped it away with your sleeve.

"It's not mine," you mumbled.

His mouth twitched upwards into a kind of smirk, as he seemed to appreciate the irony of the situation. He produced a handkerchief for you from somewhere within the dark folds of his cape and gently dabbed at the corner of your mouth before attending to his own.

"I'm surprised that you do not tremble to look at me"

"I told you, i'm not afraid of you, not anymore" you replied.

Continue to the Next Chapter ⬇️

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader Warnings: Some mild violence and gore (in keeping with the level you might read in classic gothic literature

[gothic-aesthetic-gal]

🦉𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔱 🦇

Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader

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

🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯🕯

Chapter 4 - Temptation

You joined the count in the dining room, which was set up for only one again, and were particularly greatful of the food after spending so long unconscious. The count sat with you, laconic as ever, and you wondered what the cause of his severe and reserved countenance was - it went far beyond mere curtesy and manners, even for someone so evidently wealthy.

"The ballroom is magnificent..." you said. Hoping to ease the uncomfortable silence between you.

"It does not get much use," he muttered with a distant look in his eyes.

He seemed to look right through you and though you did not know why, you shuddered a little.

"I would have thought that someone of your standing and status would hold extravagant balls regularly..." you mused aloud.

"And yet I do not. I expect that you yourself attend them often, and are popular with the young gentlemen..."

You blushed a little at his flattery.

"I have always dreamed of them but my step mother never let me go and papa never spoke up against her. In truth I have never been asked to dance by anyone. I only used to by stading on papas feet and letting him turn me about the living room as a small child... but I have never been asked to dance"

You couldn't help but let the sadness you felt slip out into your words and you noticed the count looked somewhat dismayed at this. There was a short pause as he seemed to be contemplating something before he rose to his feet.

"Take a walk with me"

You unconsciously reached for his arm as you walked the halls together and he did not protest, though likely out of politeness you thought. When you came to the great doors which led into the ballroom your heart began to flutter in your chest.

Once inside, he bowed and extended a pale hand toward you.

"Y/n, would you grant me the pleasure of a dance?"

You felt frozen in place and overwhelmed.

"I'm ashamed to admit that I don't know how."

"Then I will show you, do not be afraid" he said, and somehow his voice compelled you to let the fear slip away from you.

He placed your hands into the right position. You felt a little spark of excitement as he used his hand on the small of your back to pull you in closer to him.

Before long you had the basic steps of the waltz mastered and were spinning about on the floor. You felt as though he swept you along like the breeze through the trees on a summer's evening. He finished by twirling you and then dipping you toward the floor.

As you held the position, with his arm supporting your back you gazed deeply into his dark eyes. There was something powerful in them; a dichotomy of softness and danger. As he pulled you upright and closer to him once again you felt drawn like a moth to a flame. Something powerful and preternatural was beckoning and you felt powerless to stop it - no - you didn't want to stop it. Suddenly your heart seemed to burn with the desire to be held by him.

His gaze was hypnotic as he folded his arms about you and turned you to face away from him. You felt a kind of langrous ecstasy, as though drugged with a draft of laudnum or inhaling the heavy scent of the opium poppy. There was no space between you now as he tucked your hair behind your shoulder and the coolness of his breath on your neck made you shiver. He placed a gentle kiss below your ear, and another lower, on your neck; you felt like your were melting into him. Then came the feeling of two sharp points just resting against your skin, hovering almost. Your head began to spin as you waited expectantly.

Without warning the count suddenly tossed you to the floor and withdrew.

"No" his voice echoed throughout the ballroom.

Confused, reeling in feelings of shame and embarassment, you shook the gathering cobwebs from your mind and struggled to your feet. By the time you turned around, he was no longer there and the room was empty. Coldness washed over you and you became suddenly afraid. In a growing panic, you decided to run back to your room for your suitcase and then flee the castle as soon as possible.

To the next Chapter ⬇️

🦉𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔡 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔅𝔞𝔱 🦇 Tanz der Vampire Krolockxreader Warnings: Some mild violence and gore (in keeping with the level you m