#ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

nic cage as dracula in renfield (dir. chris mckay)

#despicable creature. but still my wife nonetheless. #renfield #renfield 2023 #nicholas hoult #nic cage #moviegifs #movieedit #cinemaedit #gif #dex.gif #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

i love you monster f/os that take such care in handling their lovers, being aware of their own strength and using not even a fraction of it to adore their partners, ones who know not the true nature of their beloved's power until they need to use it to protect the ones they love in a blaze of firey passion

i love you immortal f/os who have waited centuries to find love once again, who spend hours pondering if they will ever find a kindness in the world that a lost lover once showed them, only to find it in the most unexpected of places; who begin to wonder if their gift is truly a lonely, accursed existence until they find happiness once again in the arms of someone new

i love you undead f/os who shine at the feeling of being seen for the first time since dying, who wonder if they are doomed to live another life only to have what they once did torn away once more, who wonder if they even have a soul anymore only to come to the conclusion they must, for if they didnt surely they would not have found their soulmate, someone who brings them the warmth of life again

i love you doomed f/os, who shy away from the touch of another, fearful not for their own safety but of the one they love's, who weep not out of self pity but because they want so desperately to melt into the arms of a lover, whose curse is broken by the sheer power of their lover's dedicated adoring so that they may love together once more

pr*ship/c*mship dni

#raugh. #selfship #self ship #f/o #self shipping #f/o community #self ship community #safeshipping #safeship #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d. #sɪɴɢ ᴛʜɪs ᴄᴏʀʀᴏsɪᴏɴ | r. － j.h. #theres so many but off the top of my head. augh #sillyguyposting

[dracwife]

safeshiptember day 2 - masquerade i had so much fun w this prompt i did it twice. oops [ uncolored sketch below ]

divider credit

#dex.doodlez #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d. #safeshiptember #safeshiptember2023

[dracwife]

reverence.

ship: a taste of the divine -> dracula/ambroży

word count: 735

summary: the count shows his guest to the library for the first time.

"Have you read them all?"

He looks down at Ambroży who looks on in childlike wonder, and the other almost smiles as he continues his lead, engulfed in the mass of his cape which sways slightly as they stop walking before settling against his form. 

"But of course," he goads, lips curling into a smirk, "Many times."

Ambroży's expression glows in admiration -- he peers around the rest of the library in awe; There must be thousands of books here, more than he, no, more than any human could read in a lifetime.

Ah, Ambroży chides himself, but therein lies the difference.

He is reminded as the man next to him extends a deathly pale hand from deep within his bundled cloak, and gestures welcomingly towards the sprawling walls of texts that surely he must do something with his time alone in that castle.

"Consider it yours as much as it is mine," the words roll off of the Count's tongue with a reverent hospitality. Ever cordial, he motions Ambroży forward in front of himself and the scholar wastes no time in scouring the shelves, eye-level first, then above, soaking in every volume's title, the scent of ancient parchment and fading ink, with leather bindings and he takes particular care with every book he pulls from its place, frightened perhaps for the first time since stepping foot here in this castle not of any creature or consequence but that maybe, if he is not so gentle he may shatter the illusion and awake from a dream, a dream he is so sure he must be in, lest he truly find himself in an unending sea of tales and poetry, of science and astronomy and every other possible thing he could ever wish to learn of, and beyond that too. 

The other figure, the taller of the two reaches just above where Ambroży struggles to pull a tome from its place and easily slips it down, blowing gently the dust off opposite of where they face and gladly then into the hands of the eagerly awaiting poet, who thanks him with a rosy-cheeked sheepish grin.

The Count breathes an airy chuckle, nearly silent and gone unnoticed at all by his guest. He cannot remember the last time any person has been so truly and genuinely joyous to be in his presence, and with this one in particular there seemed to be not even the slightest sign of fear nor contempt in the way the hunters and naïve villagers held such deeply hateful emotions close to their hearts, the fear of the children dared by their friends to visit that darkly looming castle upon the horizon -- just pure curiosity. It nearly enthralls him. It has been so long since he has kept such good company, he forgets how charming humans can be in their own right if given the chance. Many other thoughts snake their way into his mind, and as it fills with contemplations, he bows his head just slightly, "I shall leave you to it, then."

Ambroży is snapped from his awe at the silvery smoothness of his host's voice. 

"I shall be just down the hall, if you need anything. I will return to escort you to your room, when you are ready."

He turns and begins his trek, but stops short at Ambroży's voice one last time, who has finally allowed his body to catch up to his mind as he quickly questions the Count.

"How will you know when I'm ready?"

"Just call for me. I assure you I will hear it."

Ambroży nods, already losing himself to thought again, but snaps back one last time:

"Count Dracula?"

"If you will be staying here, I must insist you call me by my given name: Just Vlad will do."

"Thank you, again, Vlad."

He hums; Never has his name sounded so sweet. Grins with a gentle admiring, much in the same way his guest had looked nearly minutes before.

"I don't understand why they say the things they do about you."

The vampire's brows furrow, but not in misunderstanding. He knows all too well what the villagers say about him. Rather, he is left feeling…strange by the remark. A feeling he knows, but seems so distant. Melancholic, perhaps.

Centuries in isolation will do that, he supposes.

"I will be in my study," he rushes towards the door, cloak once again flowing freely behind him in an almost hypnotic wave. Ambroży watches as he leaves, and wonders if the fabric is as soft as it looks. If perhaps it is warm, too. Then he smiles.

He could very much get used to being here.

#dex.writes #ee ee #erm...whadda hell. this is just me trying to test out writing them<|3 #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

vampire f/os who defy their nature to be close to you. who have to hold themselves back, because everything about you calls to them and to that monstrous urge inside of themselves. who are only able to restrain themselves because their love for you overshadows even darkest parts of their minds and bodies.

vampire f/os who value your trust above all else. who bury their faces in your neck, running their fangs along your skin and kissing just over your pulse, smiling into it as they feel it speed and your muscles tense as you hold your breath in anticipation.

vampire f/os whose hearts beat again after they feed. who become warm after, and take the opportunity to pull you close, wrapping themselves around you, holding you and resting your head against their chest to hear that weak, soft thudding and providing a comfort they can never do otherwise.

vampire f/os who treat you gently. who care for you, and offering the world to you. who refrain from harming you, going out of their way to offer the softest, tamest version of themselves they can, to hide the beast inside themselves from you.

vampire f/os who learn to live again through their love. who remember now all that their curse has taken from them, from the gentle kindnesses to delicate affections. who wish they once again could be human if only to grow old with you, always battling that voice in the back of their mind telling them to turn you, and make you theirs forever.

pr*/c*mship/neutrals dni.

#ok my turn #its that time folks #safeship #safeshipping #selfship #self ship #f/o #self shipping #f/o community #self ship community #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

repentance.

ship: a taste of the divine -> dracula/ambroży

word count: 1084

summary: And I looked, and behold a pale horse: And his name that sat upon him was Death, and Hell followed with him.

Upon the horizon is graced a soft spatter of mud, quiet at first but approaching quickly. In the rain, it almost feels like a rumbling storm that gathers. 

Distant thunder cracks, and as lightning catches a glimpse of the night, the horse retreats to the main road, its hooves echoing a cacophony of shrill batterings in the narrow street of the village; Rhythmically its beats descend upon the main square, where the horse stops, rears, and the figure atop it holds high the torch it carries. 

In the dusk glow, it is almost hard to see, but pale faces peer from windows, curtains drawn back by curious children, who are quickly swept away by fearful mothers, only the bravest of fathers dare to indulge their curiosity and even then take heed to what legends will say of the white hooded figure that rides a white horse.

The red that lines the inner of the figure's cape draws the eyes of those that dare stare, and one by one the men of households file towards the square where the figure sits, waiting.

"Foul beast," one dares to shout, "You are not welcome here."

The hood of the figure turns towards the man.

There is no response at first, and as he squints through the storm, his eyes fall on nothing but the darkness that lies within the hood. He notices then the torch the thing carries -- its flame refused to be extinguished by even the harsh torrent of weather. He gasps softly.

The figure then speaks, or rather growls with a low reverberating voice that echoes within the man's very skull.

"Fool."

He falls to his knees, agonous shrieks louder now than the rain. The thing's horse whinnies softly.

Its voice thunders through the town square, through every home, every mind. 

"The monsignor. Bring him to me."

A few of the men and a few of the women stumble about the town, hushed whispers and muted screams as quickly word spreads of the creature descended upon their humble village. The church bell tolls, and from the building creeps an elderly man, harrowing the rain as he is escorted by many panicked townsfolk to the square in which the Beast awaits him. It straightens its posture as it is approached. A flick of its hand parts the crowd in wonder, leaving in full view the monsignor and his escorting group. There is a brief moment of silence before it beckons them closer.

The creature tosses the torch down, and as soon as the handle falls from its fingers, the flame extinguishes. It clatters to the ground, and the priest furrows his brows. He watches as the creature raises its other hand, and finally draws its hood back.

Ever slowly, tauntingly -- and as it lifts the fabric and allows it to fall beyond its shoulders, revealed beneath the ghostly white face, framed with silvery hair, sunken eyes with deep purple circles outlining the eyes -- and the crowd gasps as its eyes finally scan the gathering -- a deep crimson shines within them, piercing the heart of every soul it touches.

In an instant, its hand is around the throat of the monsignor; Lifting him as though he has weighed but nothing at all, and as he gasps for air it laughs  digs its fingers into his neck. 

"You remember me, człowiek?"

The man's head turns, trying desperately to look away, but a clawed hand jerks his neck back.

"Look at me," it hisses, "You have done this."

And then it drops him. He hits the ground with a thud, a sickening snap breaking the silence that has otherwise fallen over the town square. He gasps for air. Between breaths, he mutters prayers, eyes closed and hands gripping his vestments.

The creature's head cocks. 

"Speak, if you so wish, mortal."

The monsignor's eyes open, and he drags his gaze to meet the thing on the horse's. He mutters another prayer.

"Louder."

He does. It laughs.

"Once more, helpless thing."

He heaves a shaking breath, and musters the last of his strength to raise his voice once more.

"And I looked," he starts, now on one knee, and struggling to stand, "And behold a pale horse: and his name that sat upon him was Death…"

The thing peers out to the horizon behind it. It's expression twitches unamused, perhaps repulsed, by the reading of the Holy Word. 

"...And Hell followed with him."

It turns back to the priest. In the blink of an eye, the priest stands halfway, and falls again, throat torn open and writhing in pain. Sitting above him is the creature, head tilted towards the darkened sky: From its mouth drips red, fangs as long as nails bared, and it smiles. Laughs again, a monstrous, discordant sort of sharp noise this time. When it is finished, it looks back down, over the crowd. Its tongue darts out, licks the blood that drips from its lips. 

"What more do you want?" a panicked voice stands out.

"You poor, delicate creatures," its voice raises again, casting an air of unease through the crowd again, "All of you so fragile. So ignorant."

It hums, a strident rumble from within its chest. 

"Ten years ago, you cast me out. Left to the elements, no food, no shelter. Left for Death, which I have found such sweet embraces in. And now I return, seeking reparations."

"Please --" another voice, "We will give you anything."

"Oh, yes," it chides, "You will. You will pay in blood, as I have. You will pay in fear, and in death. You will pay in such sweet suffering."

The pleads come quickly, and with hurry. Begging, offerings of material goods, services, mothers bargaining for children’s lives, husbands for their own at the peril of their wives. But it hears none, focused now on another noise:

The distant cadence of hooves yet again, and from where the pale horse came from comes a dark one. The beast extends a hand.

"Nemuritor."

"Dragă mea," the second vampire takes the first's hand. His eyes fall to the body that lay now splattered on the ground, his voice echoes within the other creature's mind. 

This is truly what you want?

"Yes," it whispers, strained and hurting.

"Then you have done well. Come. Tomorrow we leave. Tonight --" the Count takes one last glance over the gathering, now shrinking as some slink away, others stumbling, few running home as their last few moments draw near. Others stand their ground. How fun this will be.

"Tonight, îngeraș, we feast."

Translations, for those who want them:

"You remember me, człowiek?" [ mortal ]

"Nemuritor." [ Undying/Immortal. The name of Dracula's horse. ]

"Dragă mea," [ My pet ]

"Tonight, îngeraș, we feast." [ little angel ]

In addition, Ambroży here is depicted as morowa dziewica, or a plague maiden! I thought it might be rather fitting for the theme here.

#ee ee #dex.writes #hiiiiii sorry. i was inspired. #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

happy safeshiptember 2023! i hope everyone has a blast with the prompts<3

ship: a taste of the divine -> dracula/ambroży

word count: 810

summary: safeshiptember day 1: fall weather

"You aren't a prisoner, you know."

If it were anyone else, perhaps they would have been frightened by the sudden voice. Ambroży, however, was not. Their head turns just slightly, vaguely listening.

"What ever do you mean by that?"

The Count takes a step closer, his hand coming to rest on the other's shoulder. He tries to trace their gaze, longing as it watches over the grounds from the windowsill in which they sat. The fire blazes on the opposite corner of the room, but avoids reflection on the glass as they both now peer out into the night, presumably to combat the chill of the air so high up.

"I mean if you wish to leave, you may."

Ambroży, confused, now moves, spinning so they may face the vampire.

"What a terrible thing to say!"

They stand, though nearly a foot of difference sits between their height. Ambroży's head tilts upwards, brows furrowed as they huff disapproval once more.

"What ever have I done to wrong you, for you to say such things?"

"Nothing at all," The Count's hand brushes their cheek gently, "You simply seemed...Distracted. It is always my worry that those woeful eyes of yours crave something I am afraid I cannot give you. I was simply reassuring that if you wish to leave, you may."

"I don't wish to leave, I --" they pause, their voice lowers, "I simply miss the outside."

Dracula leans down, an assurance that he is listening, and as he hears their words, he smiles in relief, maybe even bewilderment at such a trivial want.

"What is stopping you? Go outside, my dear."

"It's too cold this season, don't you understand? And I don't know these grounds like you, it would be silly of me to even try."

The Count chuckles, how endearing humans could be when they wanted to. He takes a moment, a moment where Ambroży turns back towards the window, only to feel the heavy fabric of their cloak wrap around their shoulders, with gently dangerous hands that tie it in place. The hood is pulled over their head, and a kiss stolen with cold lips as they are led down winding staircases they have come to know so well, and through rooms of all kinds, until finally they reach a rather old wooden door, hinges scarcely in tact after what may well have been decades of little, if any, use. Ambroży has seen it many times, leading from the kitchen but could never quite get it open -- they didn't dare pull the lock too hard, lest they break it, and figured for better or worse that it was nothing more than a spare cellar of sorts.

But the Count opens it easily, as though it were any other door in the castle, and beyond that pulls them through. What lay behind the door, they come to know was not another room, but the garden, a gated little area secluded by trees. They wonder now why they had never noticed it, looking from their bedroom window but at the same time, supposed they never really knew what to look for anyways. They glance about in awe, taking a few steps beyond Dracula's pace, but his long strides quickly bring him besides them once again.

Ambroży smiles, stumbling upon what may have been a table at some point, chairs flipped upwards on it, now covered in ivy, in flora of all kinds, and they tug at the vines that bind them together in amusement.

"You could have just asked, if you wished to simply go outside."

"I didn't want to bother you with such silly whims," their head tilts as they brush dirt and dust off of the table, which at one point was carved from marble, he thinks.

"No need of yours is ever trivial." Though he tries to offer assurance he understands that it was likely in vain. He watches as Ambroży explores the terrace.

"I bet you used to host all sorts of parties here, no?"

"Many years ago, perhaps."

"Oh, I bet it was beautiful then, and -- Oh!"

The Count's attention snaps from reminiscences, for a second he's worried letting someone so fragile loose in the overgrowth was a mistake. But instead of injury, he finds reverence. Ambroży looks up, towards the trees. Moonlight manages barely to peek through the branches, slivers of silver that light the way for their expedition.

"Look," Ambroży points, grinning, "The leaves, they've begun to change color."

Dracula wraps his arms around the human, pulling them close as they gaze there together again.

"It's my favorite time of year," Ambroży leans back into him, "Say you'll help me fix this place up? So I may come out here when I like?"

Ambroży feels the low rumble of a response against their back, "Of course, my love."

#safeshiptember2023 #safeshiptember #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

babygirl you are so strange in your cadence why do you speak like that

#i need to put you in a magic bullet and blend you into a fine paste in only 6 seconds #sorry for voiceposting. rare drac dialogue though. #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

✨ with any of your draccys

✨ - "you look...nice."

His knuckles rap on the door gently.

"Are you ready, my love?"

The door opens as he is about to knock again, and though it doesn't surprise him, he pulls his cloak closer around his chest.

"Yes," Ambroży smiles, "I am."

The Count is taken aback, had his heart beat, he figures it would have skipped a few. He was not a man that did not have a prompt response at the ready often, in fact quite the opposite: But his general elegant way with words seemed completely lost on himself in that moment. His eyes fall from his beloved's face, down the tailored shirt, cuffs rolled just enough to expose their forearms, overcoat draped over his shoulders, down, the outfit a recent gift from nobody else but the Count himself. They tuck a lock of their hair, which shines especially dark in the low glow of their chambers' fireplace.

"Vlad?"

"You look...Nice."

Ambroży giggles, "All this time, and not once have I ever seen you speechless."

The Count snaps back to himself, and grins softly, deceptively with a bow of his head, a desperate attempt to retain his composure.

"Ah, but my dearest, you always leave me breathless. Besides: I suppose there must be a first for everything," he holds out an arm, "Now come, we have an Opera to catch."

#tyyy noire #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d. #dex.ask #wow a real drabble and not a ficlet ? who am i ..

[dracwife]

my hot take is that most interpretations of a "modern" dracula are boring actually. because they all just try to make him like, a dude. and however much sense that may make from the perspective of "he needs to blend in" like...its lame as hell. part of the reason he is so interesting is because he is like dramatic and wildly over the top right. like when i see a boring british man and they try to tell me "its dracula" i immediately dont care anymore. bc like for a legendary figure of vampirism why is he so fucking NORMAL then. and dont you DARE tell me he wouldnt do numbers on goth tiktok looking like he just walked off the monster squad set i DONT care. give me silly poorly done hungarian accents. give me extravagant flashy goofy outfits with huge flowing capes. give me giant fangs and red eyes and magic powers WHO gives a fuck i dont want to see a well adjusted man in a two piece suit tweeting on his iphone for you to tell me its LITERALLY count dracula i want an emaciated little creature struggling to preheat the oven and hissing at the motion activated yard lights.

#this is my renfield 2023 propaganda btw #dex.txt #ee ee #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

ok i know we associate like the whole capes thing in regards to villainy definitely because of dracula but at the same time Why Are You Dressed Like That Did You Expect Anyone To Not Think You Are An Evil Creature when u look like that ? u are walking around like some kind of fuzzy animal or little otherworldly creature with just yr head poppin out like that all warm n cozy. who let you pick your own clothes. are the capes custom made where did u get them. i need answers

#fuzzy animal = bat #ee ee #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

🤝 & 💤 from the emoji asks :)

🤝 - "let me help you, please." + 💤 - "sleep well." / carrying them to bed.

Ambroży feels the fingers that flitter down their spine, but scarcely register it. Their head nods unceremoniously, and they hum something of an acknowledgement.

"It is terribly late, my dear."

"Is it?"

The Count chuckles lowly, fangs glimmering in the low light of the fire. He watches as the other curls up just slightly more, arms wrapped around their knees, book long forgotten, crumpled pages pressed against the arm of the chair and against their knees.

"Aren't you tired?"

Ambroży's head shakes slowly -- it was fairly clear they hadn't quite processed the question, just merely responded out of habit, so attentively had they listened to Dracula's voice for so long that anymore they needn't even really listen anymore to hear him, in some sense.

The Count's tongue flicks from between a sharp-toothed grin, a chiding Tsk the loudest sound that echoes off of the castle's stone walls.

"Let me help you, please," he offers lowly, hands hovering just above the other's form, waiting as always for permission.

Ambroży makes some kind of dazed noise again, but relaxes, the book sliding from between themselves and the chair, allowing the Count an opportunity to flatten the pages, close the cover and set it aside. He then turns his attention back towards his dearest human.

An arm slips just underneath their legs, the other behind their head as he lifts, cradling them tightly to his chest. He begins the long ascent up the stairs, opening the door eventually to Ambroży's chambers with care, sure to not wake them, and finally lays them across the bed. Try as he may, sneaky thing of the night, to avoid jostling them too harshly, as he pulls the cover over them, their eyes flutter open for a moment, a smile crossing their face as they nuzzle into the pillow and fall back into slumber. The Count takes a moment after tucking them in to simply observe, ensuring they were comfortable; After a sufficient period, he bends down, and presses a gentle kiss to their head.

"Sleep well, my love."

#dex.ask #<3 ty rook #he is so gentle w them. whaddahell #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

🎲 with ... Dracula, maybe?

~ heart-of-aspiration 📖

ok i didn't rig this here is the proof

43. a bloody kiss

The sobbing is what drew him to them.

His head perked from the warm flesh of the collapsed creature that he had been perched over. A hand wipes the warm crimson from his mouth. He raises, and brushes the front of his shirt, smearing effectively the entire front with the warm liquid, and turns his head upwards.

He finds them there, above, on the upper floor. The wood, strained with age, creaks underneath his feet as he otherwise silently approaches them. They face away from them, hands to their face, the soft sound of crying emanating from the place they stand.

As he steps behind them, his gaze falls downwards, just over their shoulder, to where the pleading form lays at their feet.

"Oh, my dear, there is no use in drawing out their suffering."

Ambroży runs a tongue along their finger once more, the blood running from their hand over their lips. They hum as their eyes flutter closed, cheeks stretching to a smile studded with razor teeth stained red.

"But don't you see? The adrenaline makes it taste all the sweeter, not to mention so much easier --"

The Count cuts them off with but a raise of his hand.

"Do not lose what little humanity you still hold, my beloved. You will need it, with where we are going."

Ambroży sighs, nodding, "I understand."

"You have much yet to learn, my pet," his voice is low, almost overtaken by the sound of the waves that crash against the chipping paint of the Demeter, "You must listen carefully. We will be secluded no longer in this new estate. Appearances must be kept up."

"Of course," they bow, a quick swipe of their nails silencing quickly the whimpering form. When they straighten, Dracula's hands capture their shoulders, then their cheeks as he turns them towards himself.

"You listen so well," he smiles, tilting their head upwards, "You always have."

He leans towards them, hesitating only a moment before kissing them, blood fresh and old on each their lips combining as the newborn demon pulls away to lap at the mixture.

"Now come," he takes their hand gently, "It is almost sunrise, and we must rest. The Captain will wake soon, and we must be hidden before then."

#:3c ive kept this for a minute #ty again! #dex.writes #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

👀

-selfshippery

tyy!

big big fan of this one bc. ? why does he look so sad what is he seeing. why is it daylight. the fog .. he looks soo comfy cozy in that cape. not a want but a need

#dex.ask #ee ee #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

🩸 and/or 🌹 forrr dracula :) - red @mashyaoi

ty red!! <3

🩸 - "is that blood?" + 🌹 - a gift.

A knock drew their attention. Their eyes drifted to the entrance to the room, wherein the door shifted, creaking open just slightly and allowing in the creeping figure from the hall.

Ambroży smiles, "Good evening, love."

"You're awake, I'm glad."

The Count approaches them slowly, cape drawn tightly around his shoulders. He reaches the sofa his lover is draped across, and as he does they pull themselves upright, attention fixated on him. From within the fabric he draws his arm, producing a small box wrapped tightly, carefully. Atop is adorned a small bow, bright red. He hands it to them.

Ambroży raises an eyebrow. They had half a mind to ask if it was truly for them, but the other half assured them how silly a question that was -- who else would it be for? So they take it, and unwrap it as carefully as it has been wrapped. They open the box, and as soon as their eyes settle on the book that sits there, they smile.

"How did you -- ?" they are almost breathless, fingers gently wrapping around the leather-bound cover and prying it open.

"You have mentioned it before. I promised you: Nothing that you should want, you will ever go without. I would not lie to you, dragă mea."

The box falls to the floor as Ambroży picks up the cookbook and flicks through it -- their eyes shine, their smile widens as they recognizes the recipes contained within, words that roll off in their native tongue as they mumble the dishes they remember so fondly from their home.

"I have picked up a few of the common ingredients I noticed as I was about town, but I have set aside for you some money that I hope you may travel there yourself and gather the things you may need."

Ambroży glances towards Dracula, whose fixated so intently on their hands they would've almost thought he was nervous in some way. They look back down at the cookbook, and notice a small stain. They pick at it, trailing their hand over the page curiously.

"Is that blood?"

Dracula's brows furrow, he quickly shakes his head.

"Wine, I'm sure. The merchant I purchased it from, he was -- ah -- a strange fellow. I'm sure you can imagine."

Ambroży nods, forces a smile, but something flutters in their stomach nonetheless.

"Of course. Thank you, you are too kind to me."

The Count grins, hand coming to brush Ambroży's cheek gently, "Ah, but it is never enough -- you, my beloved, are too precious."

#dex.ask #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d.

[dracwife]

What current f/o thoughts are on your mind? (via @me-myself-and-my-fos)

heyyyy nic!

well. i have Many Thoughts Always Head full. as wel know ive got my vamps on the brain lately but! im working through ideas for my lotr s/is as well<3 what i NEED to do is fucking come up w tags for them all!!!!!!

of course w drac ive had a couple of cute, domestic drabble ideas. mostly been just kinda daydreaming like laying around with him, maybe hes reading to me or something. and i just get to lay against his chest and maybe he wraps his cape around me and just absentmindedly rubs my back and talks to me<|3 ugh.

i have. so so many lotr crushes. idk. i have solid ideas for sarururu. many of them involve idrhil being an absolute menace in his kitty form. causing issues on purpose. [ falls asleep on the war table just to inconvenience you ]

ive also been working on a solid idea for thrandy as well, im thinking hes got a more "this is my cute trophy druid wifesband if you so much as look at him incorrectly i will slaughter you where you stand hope this helps" kinda vibe w idrhil. lots of hair braiding and being gentle and thran spoiling him and "i love you dearly but you give me a heart attack every other day please god stop sneaking out and coming back covered in spider goo" tee hee

god that was so long. and i think probably the most ive ever gushed on this blog. whaddahell

#dex.ask #ᴀ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪᴠɪɴᴇ | r. － c.d. #crush tag 🫀