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@kiraly
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This blog is being put on low activity. My job is really demanding both mentally and physically, and on my days off I almost wanna do nothing more than veg out in my recliner. I will still be here, I do still wanna write Vlad, I will still write Vlad, and I know that I have it stated in my rules that Iām slow to reply, but maybe doing this will help ease the stress of feeling like I need to be here and that Iām a bad person for not, which ultimately makes it even harder to write.
SendĀ āWhat happened here?ā to find my muse after theyāve finished fighting a brutal fight.
AlternativelyĀ ā sendĀ āYou shouldnāt be here.ā for my museās reaction to stumbling upon yours post-fight.
It was the kind of kiss that made me know that I was never so happy in my whole life.
Stephen Chbosky // The Perks of Being a Wallflower (via qvotable)
wingsmashedā:
@kiralyā
āYou must be Mr. Vlad ČepeČ. Your wife mentioned you.ā Graham spoke with a quiet voice, after heād been given his introduction by his wife. There was a smile toying at his lips after heād watched the two of them interact, sparing almost no attention to the poor old woman whoād just had the scare of her life. The poor thing was cowering, unable to understand how Lisa could have been alive. It didnāt matter.Ā
āMy name is Graham Jones. Itās good to make your acquaintance. Iām glad that I was able to stop that barbaric ritual in time.ā Thankfully, heād managed to reach her beforeĀ the fire had risen high enough to singe either of them.
Heāll stop forward to raise his hand for a friendly handshake, almost on autopilot. It was what you were supposed to do when giving a polite greeting, after all.Ā
it was all so much white noise. the world, that is. vladās had consisted of nothing but his wife from the instant heād heard her call his name. oh, how heād changed from one heartbeat to the next. no longer were flames licking at his clothing, brought to life by his breaking heart and seething rage. now he stood all but wrapped around the blond woman, all long arms and broad shoulders and dark cloth engulfing her, shielding her from view, from the world. then a voice filtered through the din of his slowly calming fury. red eyes open to meet an unfamiliar face.
he eyes the strangers outstretched hand. he does not remove himself from lisa. ā you... saved my wife. ā itās not quite a question, but not quite a statement, either. heās weary.

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neko-mun-rpā:
Adrian did indeed think of the town as his. It was where his friends were and their families were. What if the murderer hurt one of them? The dhampir would feel it was his fault for knowing something was wrong but did nothing to stop it. He couldnāt just let whoever was doing this just continue.
Being told no he glared at his father and stomped his feet in a huff, though he was far too cute to be anything even resembling threatening. āThey canāt sort it out if they donāt know, father!ā Adrian retorted and his shoulders slumped in defeat. āI canāt even warn them because the adults donāt listen to kidsā¦ā His brows scrunched as his mind tried to come up with ideas to try and tell the town without getting directly involved. Maybe leave clues to lead them to the tree of corpses, that would be a good way of helping.
He turned his golden gaze back to his father and offered a weak smile. āTomorrow night lets find a new spot to train, away from the forest.ā
vlad doesnāt miss that glint of thought in his sons eyes. the boy is far too smart for his own good most of the time, and this will most likely be one of them. adrian was his mothers son. ā of course, son, ā oh, they will find somewhere else to train, for sure, because heās going to move the castle. he doesnāt tell his son this. it wasnāt going to be something the younger wants to hear, he knows, and he feels remorse for it, about essentially going behind his back, but it would be untold numbers worse should something happen to adrian for trying to do the right thing- which, of course, it will, because it always does. when it comes to humans, no good deed goes unpunished.
ā you should get some rest, now, ā the vampire pauses then holds a hand out. ā come, you can sleep between your mother and i, iām sure she would appreciate seeing you after being in the village so long. ā
You wish to see me bleed? Gladly. Come here and watch it pour like a fountain. But don't you dare look away for even one second. You wanted this so badly? Then you'll watch until I run dry.
This blog is being put on low activity. My job is really demanding both mentally and physically, and on my days off I almost wanna do nothing more than veg out in my recliner. I will still be here, I do still wanna write Vlad, I will still write Vlad, and I know that I have it stated in my rules that Iām slow to reply, but maybe doing this will help ease the stress of feeling like I need to be here and that Iām a bad person for not, which ultimately makes it even harder to write.
me @ all my rp partners
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āšš¦ ššš”š©ššā¦ Ā šš š ššš šš š šššššš, š šš©šššš ššš©šš, š Ā š šš©šššš, ššš šššš¤š š”š©šššš šš¢š š ššššš”š¦ Ā š©šš£š šššššš”š”šš š”š©ššš š”šššš šš£šš.ā Ā

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Empty, empty, empty; silent, silent, silent. The room was a shell, singing of what was before time was; a vase stood in the heart of the house, alabaster, smooth, cold, holding the still, distilled essence of emptiness, silence.
Virginia Woolf, Between the ActsĀ (via wedge-of-words)
Oh, there was a time⦠A time when the smallest details of death delighted me.
mctheriingsā:
Ā Ā Ā sheĀ canĀ onlyĀ imagineĀ howĀ sensitiveĀ hisĀ heartĀ andĀ soulĀ are.Ā seeingĀ someoneĀ youĀ loveĀ burnĀ toĀ deathĀ andĀ onlyĀ beingĀ toĀ saveĀ herĀ withĀ hisĀ blood.Ā sheĀ couldnātĀ everĀ imagineĀ losingĀ vladĀ orĀ herĀ preciousĀ littleĀ adrian,Ā butĀ sheĀ knewĀ sheĀ wouldĀ neverĀ getĀ revengeĀ likeĀ that.Ā itĀ wouldĀ hurtĀ moreĀ thanĀ anything,Ā butĀ lisaĀ couldnātĀ bearĀ theĀ thoughtĀ ofĀ harmingĀ anotherĀ livingĀ soulĀ either.Ā doesĀ thatĀ makeĀ herĀ aĀ badĀ wifeĀ orĀ motherĀ ifĀ sheĀ didnāt?Ā maybe.Ā noĀ oneĀ reallyĀ knewĀ whatĀ wasĀ justifiedĀ asĀ rightĀ orĀ wrongĀ inĀ aĀ situationĀ suchĀ asĀ theirs.Ā āĀ vlad..Ā āĀ herĀ featuresĀ dimĀ asĀ heĀ stepsĀ fromĀ herĀ inĀ shockĀ ofĀ herĀ response.
Ā Ā Ā āĀ vlad..Ā āĀ sheĀ speaksĀ again,Ā softĀ andĀ concerningĀ asĀ herĀ handsĀ reachĀ forĀ his.Ā āĀ youĀ haveĀ toĀ understand.Ā notĀ everyoneĀ isĀ openĀ mindedĀ likeĀ iĀ am.Ā iāmĀ stillĀ withĀ you.Ā iāmĀ stillĀ here..Ā isnātĀ thatĀ enough?Ā āĀ sheĀ doesnātĀ expectĀ himĀ toĀ sayĀ yes,Ā butĀ sheĀ hopesĀ thatĀ forĀ asĀ longĀ asĀ theyāreĀ togetherĀ thatĀ sheāllĀ beĀ ableĀ toĀ teachĀ himĀ theĀ patienceĀ andĀ kindnessĀ towardsĀ humansĀ asĀ sheāsĀ shownĀ towardsĀ him.
was it? was it enough? standing back from her, vlads red eyes wandered her form, they watch her hand, so small, gentle, soft, and loving, reaching out for his own. he allows the touch, his hand shaking -with rage, with sadness and stress- and his heart trips over itself painfully. sheās cool to the touch- not cold, not dead, but neither is she warm. not like she used to be. it takes a heart beat, but his fingers, long and clawed, return the gesture. it should be enough.
it should be enough that sheās back. that sheās here with him again, her hand in his, undead as they both are now. eyes twitch in anger as he stares at their interlocked fingers. yes, she was back, but she shouldnāt have been killed in the first place. she shouldnāt have lost her warmth.
he wants it to be enough. he wants things to go back to the way they used to be. his gaze finally left their hands and returned to hers, softening instantly, as they always did when he looked at her. ā lisa.. ā vlad took a breath and tugged her hand, pulling her back against his chest, his free arm wrapping around her shoulders and holding her close. lowering his head, he closes his eyes and buries his face in her golden hair. ā how can you have such forgiveness in your heart after what they did to you. to us.. ā
neko-mun-rpā:
Adrian was silent on the way to the castle, by the time they were inside itās walls the boy had stopped shaking and crying. For any other child the gloomy castle would be scarry, but Adrian had been here since he was born. This was home and he felt safe. He pulled away from his father to look around and listen. āMamaā¦ā He murmured softly, wanting to be with Lisa.
āMother is is sleeping.ā The boy said once his senses picked up on his other parent and pouted. He wanted to see her but didnāt want to wake her, Adrian could wait until later. The dhampir rested his head against his fatherās chest and waited to be taken to his own room, pale fingers poking at the buttons on his fatherās vest to occupy himself until they arrived. Once in his bedroom he wiggled free from his fatherās grip and hopped down to hurry over to his bed and grab his stuffed teddy bear to cling to.
āOn the bad tree, I recognized one of the dead people.ā Adrian said looking up to his father.Ā āHe was the baker in town, Frederik. He was a nice man, I helped him last week carrying some crates into his shop and he gave me a bread roll in the shape of a butterfly. Frederik wouldnāt hurt anyoneā¦ā Adrian shook his head not liking this at all. āI want to find the bad person and fight him, father.ā
vlad frowned. had lisa heard her son just now, he knew sheād be greatly unhappy. carefully, the vampire moves to adrians side, falling to one knee and raising a hand to cup the others small cheek. ā adrian, ā he starts, tucking a strand of hair behind the youngers ear. he strugles to find his next words. the hurt and the anger was clear in his sons eyes when he looked into them. normally so bright and full of life and joy, now seemed darkened, overcast and dim with grife and anger, bloodshot and tired from his tears. adrians face made for love and life, bright sunny days and comfort, not sadness and anger. the family had been near this town for some time now, vlad understood, like most vampires when they settled into a regrion, adrian likely though of it has his, the people there, his.
sighing, his hand falls from the boys face, resting instead on atop his knee. he swallows, realizing how long the silance has been dragged out. ā no. ā this was not his strong suit. not at all. vlad himself, in the past, had slaughtered half a town or more, for less. denying his son that same right felt as though it went against his very being. ā your mother would be very displeased if you did that. its best to let the townspeople sort it out on their own. ā

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Suffering
Aging, sickness and death are suffering.
Loss, grief, and despair are suffering.
To lose what you love is suffering.
ā Buddha
I look over at you and I see sunshine.
Unknown (via qvotable)