Vlad the Dammed

 And therefore, — since I cannot prove a lover, To entertain these fair well-spoken days, — I am determined TO PROVE A VILLAIN And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

[vladvitr-blog]

cupido-periculosa

Hearing the way Vlad says his name sends pleasant shivers down D’Ablo’s spine, but he tries to pass it off nonchalantly, laughing at the other’s complaints as if his mind isn’t on something else entirely. Thank you. I needed to get moving, tonight, let go of some energy … he’s babbling. But he’s also hoping Vlad would help him with that last bit. Assuming D’Ablo isn’t reading into his behavior too much, the man seems inclined to do so.

Oh, do I get you. I have a meeting tomorrow too … drowning my sorrows in alcohol before the inevitable migraine. And getting drunk also lets him forget Helsing’s figurative stake hovering right over his heart, which is a definite plus.

He grins at the proposal. It would. What kind of hunt are you suggesting?

Somehow Vlad has come even closer to the other. There’s something more than just the causal lust one finds in a bar in his eyes, something terrifying. His arms snake around D’Ablo forcing the other to acclimate more and more to his presence. 

“Something worth effort. We could drive down and pick up some whores stumbling out of college bars. Or we could kill a hunter.” Helsing is digging around in the states and Vlad finds the whole thing amusing. The hunter in question wouldn’t be Helsing, of course, but one of his associates. 

“There’s this big hot shot down here who have quite the body count. I’m in the mood for a suicide run but he has contacts. Hunters with skill but not enough to kill us. What do you say?”

[archiveda]

The Gift

[vladvitr-blog]

Vlad reaches out, his long fingers taking Darren’s jaw into his own tight grip. There’s enough force to keep the other still but still light enough to show it meant no  aggression. He brings the younger vampire inches from his face and gives him a simple kiss. He pulls away, letting go of the man’s chin. 

“You can leave now. Thanks will be sent later, please give me my space. Vlad waits until the foreign vampires are gone before lifting the chin of the child to face him. 

“What’s your name?” 

[vladvitr-blog]

@scars-ink-and-leather || Isa

“This is it?” One vampire asks peer past the limo’s window at the bookshop across the street. Vlad just nods. 

“A sad little bookshop?” 

“The boys grandmother was akin to a goddess.” Another vampire chimes in sitting next to Vlad, not looking out the window. Vlad clears his throat annoyed with the word goddess. “I mean, she gave the bloodline a hard time. Chaotic good and all.” They correct. 

There’s a third vampire trying to peer past the first’s shoulders. They only catch a glimpse of the storefront before leaning back into their seat. “So you just want us to stay here?” 

“Did you not listen this morning?” The first vampire pulls back from the window to glare at the other next to him. “We come in if he calls us. Like always.” The third just stares back. 

The second speaks up again hoping to impress her leader. “We’re going in with him, scare the shit out of the boy.”  “Language Gwen,” Vlad squeezes her knee, “you’re better than that.” He opens the car door stepping out into the street. His three servants step out in unison. The four of them cross the street and go into the shop. They walk up stopping where the boy is. 

Shit he’s massive. Gwen nearly says it out loud. The other too silently agree waiting for their master to speak. 

“Ishak Sinclaire? I’m a friend of your late grandmother. Care if talk?” Vlad smiles.

[prcttyfangs]

Thicker Than Water

@vladvitr

It was dark. Even more so than usual. A storm was moving in from the sea, painting the skies angry black and purple and illuminating the swarming village below with increasingly more frequent bolts of lightning. The thunder was deafening and followed almost immediately afterwards. Far below, the human settlement was scrambling to secure itself against the incoming wrath. Men tended the boats and little livestock they kep while the women and children were packed away … All but one. “Digatz?” A tiny voice called out to Vlad from behind. The body was equally little, like an animated doll. Face rounded with youth, eyes wide but they knew no fear. If anything, she looked concerned for the sole man at the top of the hill. “Its raining,” she said in her hoarse voice. “Why are you outside?”

[vladvitr-blog]

To say the sight of the small child didn’t startle him would’ve been a lie. He had been cooped up for too long. Balancing politics of both the living and the dammed were starting to get to him. He came here in the dead of the storm to feel alive. To hunt, to kill, to feel like he was on the battle field again. It has been so long. 

The drops of rain suddenly registered to him. Big messy globs soaking him. 

“The storm brought me here.” He glances up to the sky that is flashing and cracking above them before walking down towards the small creature. “Where is your father, mother?”

[archiveda]

The Gift

Kveta had been cleaned up and dressed in perhaps the nicest dress she had ever been allowed to wear while with him. The material was soft against her pale skin and clung to her figure like a second skin, showing off the subtle curves that she did have. Usually she was just allowed to wear black lace lingerie for the parties Darren held. Yet now the majority of the scars, old bite marks, which marred her flesh were hidden. Still, despite her appearance, two men stood on either side of her, gripping her upper arms painfully. Darren stood in front of her as they waited in the foyer of the mansion. Of course he wasn’t about to let her go– not when he was about to make the biggest deal of his life.

“Master Vlad,” Darren murmured, bowing his head respectfully as the other entered the room. “I have brought for you a gift.”

The girl was brought forward and presented to the most powerful vampire who lived. Of course Darren would use her to further his own power…. She just rolled her eyes. This was so like him. Kveta just eyed the taller man suspiciously. She had heard of the great Vlad Tepes, but she hadn’t actually been sure he existed. And now? Now she was being given to him as if she was nothing more than a puppy, or some other commodity to be sold and traded.

“This is Kveta. I have trained her to be submissive to those above her. Just for you. She knows her place. She is clean and tasty to drink from, especially when you give her vodka, wine, or drugs, and she is also submissive in bed.” Golden hues glanced between the two men warily, especially at the man whom she was being given to. “Please accept her as my show of loyalty to you.”

@vladvitr

[vladvitr-blog]

Vlad finishes buttoning his dark grey jacket to his suit as he comes down the steps. He loosely holds up his hand not only to signal he wishes for the other to stop talking but for his own servants to give them space. They stay fixed at the base of the staircase. 

“Darren, right? This, toy, is your proof of loyalty? What does she mean to you? Surly you would be giving me a gift that’s hard to part with.” 

His eyes fall of the girl. She’s a bit too over dressed for his taste. Typically the younger they are the more he tends to enjoy them dressed as simple humans do. Not laced in the most expensive labels around. Perhaps it’s the part of him that longs to be a father or something worse.

She’s still human, heart drumming away. Eyes flick back to Darren. “Not some underage overflow slut, right?” A smile blossoms on Vlad’s face, the soft lighting above him catching the crinkle of the pale scars on his cheek. As always his two canines are brightly on display. 

[asskickergrimes]

( p s a ) If your character wants to hit my muse - hit them. If your characters wants to slam them against the wall, the floor, anywhere - do it.If your character wants to force themselves on my muse because that’s just the kind of person your character is - do it.( but warn me first ooc. )  I’m the kind of mun that doesn’t hold you for your characters action and doesn’t blame you in the slightest. Because really, sometimes characters have a mind of their own that leaves us writers with wide eyes. That doesn’t mean the mun is a terrible person in RL. So, if your character has the urge to do something to mine, do it without feeling bad about it. 

[won-der-land89]

[everestless-deactivated20190113]

William-Adolphe Bouguereau (French, 1825-1905), “La perle”

[vladvitr-blog]

witch-of-annwn

When Emelia received the invitation to a lavish party being held at a villa overlooking the Adriatic, signed simply with an elegant and elaborate letter “V,” her immediate response was to throw the invitation in the trash.

It only stayed there for an hour before Emelia fished it out again and surveyed the invitation once more, pondering what the sender could have possibly meant by doing so.  Biting her lip, Emelia resolved herself to RSVPing that she sends her regrets but is unable to attend.

One month later Emelia is dressed in an evening gown of black fabric, with a low neckline and slim cut. Her hair was perfectly coiffed and her make-up impeccable. Her pendant necklace, and earrings were of silver, though she was walking in the den of vampires, Emelia would not be unprotected.

As Emelia wandered around the party she took in the lavishness of the furnishings, in the artwork on the walls and every facet of every choice that had been made in putting this night together. For a moment Emelia feels underdressed, though her ensemble is equal to all the others on display.

With no small amount of disgust Emelia watches as a pile of vampires feed from a single, scantily clad woman. It was unlikely that the vampires would leave the woman alive in their frenzy. Emelia’s hand drifted up to her pendant, clutching at the silver as if it could ward off such danger simply by its scent on her skin.

She spotted her host at the same moment that he spotted her. And she greeted him with a diplomatic smile and with a kiss on each cheek as was the Continental custom.

“I’ve been well, Vlad.” She answered. “I’ll admit, I was surprised to get your invitation… It’s been so long I had thought that you’d forgotten me.”

Helsing would likely be furious if he knew that she was here… But that was a large part of the reason why they worked. They each had their secrets. And as such he did not know she was here.

Truly though, she could not imagine why Vlad had asked her here. She had always thought that Vlad did not like her overly much for coming between himself and Helsing.

She waited for her answer.

“I’m a busy man, don’t condemn me for that. We have our differences I know... The last time we spoke, it wasn’t on good terms. We’ve grown though. The two of us. What happened between you me, the slayer. I want that behind us.” Vlad spoke so lightly of something that still pricked at his anger whenever he pondered it. It was years, many years, ago when she first fell in love with Helsing. He used her as a weapon against Vlad, a stepping stone to get closer to killing him. They were close, him and her, they could of had anything. She could have had anything. 

Now rumors swirl that she’s found Helsing again, surely pained by lost love. “You’ve been quiet lately. I remember you as a powerful goddess. Brimming with unknown powers. What have you been up to?”

[vladvitr-blog]

cupido-periculosa

D’Ablo shakes the man’s hand. You? Alone? Hard to believe.

He brings the glass to his lips and takes a long drink to keep anything as cheesy as that from passing his lips again. Pleased to meet you, Vlad. I am D’Ablo. He grins at the compliment, hoping that in the low light Vlad can’t see the slight flush on his cheeks. A comment like that would make him just smirk knowingly from anyone that isn’t as handsome as the other.

What sort of business? He pauses. That would open up a conversation about his own work.Wait, never mind. So you find it disappointing so far? Unfortunately it doesn’t get better than this … Europe is far more exciting when it comes to the night life. Here it’s rather dull.

“D’Ablo?” Vlad lets the name pour from his mouth. He wants to get use to the texture of that sound hooked into him. 

“Exotic name, wouldn’t expect to find it tagged to man like you in a place like this.” His smile falters a bit. “Damn I really wanted to talk about work my entire night. I have this huge presentation tomorrow, merging companies almost. A mutual agreement, contracts. The reason I drink.” 

Vlad is careful to laugh sweetly. The only thing he wants right now is to claim every part of this stranger. A nasty sudden obsession. He steps closer to whisper to the other. 

“I also came to leave with someone. Would be an honor if you would come with me. I’ve been very busy, a proper hunt with a stranger. Wouldn’t that be thrilling?”

[vladvitr-blog]

About Vlad

[vladvitr-blog]

ivakir

Ivakir fought only the first hours, because anyone would have fought fiercely against the two thugs, who dare to tear you away from your dinner. Iv was furious, mostly because of she still was hungry. The most reasonable part of her brain quickly threw the idea that it was better to stay calm, and she spent the remaining time pretty quiet, occasionally hissing at the thugs when they treated her “pretty rude”. The witch managed to leave on them the signs of her struggle.

Landing on the carpet, she cursed and began to look around. Window, window, there must have been a damn window, from where Iv could jump out. When you get into such troubles (and it was not the first time, Ivakir has become a veteran of getting into troubles), it was important to maintain a sober mind. Usually, Iv managed to solve the problem without creating another one, but this time something was amiss. The witch sniffed the air loudly. Yes, definitely.

Finally Ivakir drew her attention to the man, who sat on the throne. Of course, she noticed him before, but she decided not to give such a pleasure to look at him at first. The man looked like a typical villain in villainous movies. He even had this horrible scar on the face. Not because the scar looked horribly, but because that it was a typical villainous scar. And this carpet (just an expensive rag) and all the furniture of the room… The witch shuddered inwardly and suppressed a hysterical laugh (to laugh at such a moment would be very silly) - she was captured by a Typical Villain with terrible taste in interior.

- Maybe you will tell your people to let me go? - Iv answered with a question, making herself comfortable on the carpet and crossing her legs. - It is obvious that I’m not going anywhere from here. And what can a weak woman do, m? - she asked, tilting her head slightly to the side.

He starts to play idly with his nails, admiring the length of them. He takes in a deep breath and the two men back up leaving the room entirely. The doors shut with a soft thud leaving the two of them alone. 

“Is it? Then you have not weighed every option yet. Still, you don’t think yourself weak. A weak woman would remain silent. A weak woman would not move from where she was dropped. A weak woman would not look for an escape. A weak woman would cower. You are not cowering. You haven’t even begged or pleaded. You must know fear very well then?” 

On his last word he turns his head to really look at her. Meet eye to eye.

[lhzthepoet]

Forgive me if I taste a little too much like poison. If I am full of too much chaos. Forgive me if I have too much bottled within me that it makes the earth quiver. But I won’t apologize for the monster I became to survive the monsters around me.

or the screaming still ringing in my ears // L.H.Z (via lhzthepoet)

[vladvitr-blog]

sanguisfulgur

Sharna’s eyes flicker onto the male, a look of disdain held within their stormy grey colour. “I heard you, I’m not deaf. I chose not to answer.” There was no point, the answer was obvious to them all. A coven attack would not just consist of herself. Though the choice of the word coven was interesting… It was not a common term used by her species of vampire.

The gun didn’t faze her, bullets did nothing to her kind. With a sigh, Sharna slipped the bloody cloth back into her tatty jeans pocket, the knife slipped into a pouch on her belt. They weren’t going to be needed presently, she already knew where this was headed.

“You’re a bit of a broken record, you know that?”

All she managed to get out before the bullets hit.

They may not be lethal, but the pain is still present as the force knocked her back against the nearby wall, shrapnel ripping through her skin and flesh. A hiss of pain passed through her lips and her head tipped back against the wall. “Fuck,” She groaned, a soft laugh following as her pale fingers reached into the wound in her chest.

Mouth twisting into a grimace, Sharna eased her fingers into the entry hole, prying it open as her vampiric regeneration already began to heal it up. “There we go,” with a grunt, she twisted one of the bullets free, a look of disgust on her face at the sight of her gore-covered hand. “one down,” repeating the action she pulled out the second, then the third, attention turning back to the pair before her.

“Heart already doesn’t work, pumping it full of bullets isn’t going to help.” There was likely still shrapnel still in there, but she’d deal with the remnants later. “Hope you weren’t expecting me to drop dead.”

“Something has to be done about you,” he spits fangs bared in fear, “you’re a fucking monster.” 

Hayden stays motionless, shocked by the sight of watching each bullet being plucked out like mere splinters. 

“What’s the point of killing your own kind? Do you really take it on yourself to keep humans safe? What makes them worth saving? What makes us worth killing? Both sides are monsters.” 

He throws his gun and Hayden watches it skid across the floor. He balls up his fist. He’s been fighting since day one, long before he’d been turned. The anger, betrayal, forming in the pit of his stomach gives him the courage to kick off the ground. He lands a solid hit on the woman’s jaw, hissing when he hears her nose crack. 

Hayden almost yells but a short gasp falls instead. Physical attacks are too messy, too hard to keep things under control. She can feel herself cringing, waiting for the storm about to unfold before her.

[vladvitr-blog]

Vlad likes to be worshiped in bed. Praise him, moan his name like he's god for every bit of attention he gives you. Touch him like he's sacred and give to his every whim. Please him like he's your god. It's as much about the sex as it is the ego trip

send me NSFW headcanons about my muses || ACCEPTING

((Oh heck yes!!!))

[vladvitr-blog]

Sex with Vlad is a fucking production. Its a critically acclaimed show where he is the star and everything is set up deliberately to please him best.

send me NSFW headcanons about my muses || ACCEPTING

“I’m confused? Are you suggesting this is a bad thing?”

((YES a thousand times yes))

[vladvitr-blog]

Vlad gets off hardest when he fucks in front of a mirror and watches himself.

send me NSFW headcanons about my muses || ACCEPTING

((YES!!!))