#Tw vampire | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

velvette-creations · 6 months ago

Text

Death's Bride

Interview with the Vampire: Santiago x fem!reader

Companion Piece of "To Be Loved by Death"

Rating: Mature

WC: 1.0 k

Prompt: Temporary Death for @sweetspicybingo (Hurt/Comfort Bingo Collection)

Warnings: Vampirism: lots and lots of blood, feeding, turning

A/n: This old white man has me in a chokehold, what can I say? Ben Daniel did wonders with Santiago. Also there’s a little easter egg in the fic for all those who are fans of the original film ;)

Summary: Santiago turns you

The coven had unanimously voted to let you join, though Armand seemed reluctant in his response. You learned he had never created a vampire in his five hundred years. There was something about him that you didn’t trust, but Santiago led the coven now, and his sights fell upon you, so no one dared argue with him. You half expected Eglee to rip your throat out, but you had no qualms about sharing Santiago with her. You even allowed her to feed on you from time to time.

Finally, the night of your translation arrived in the true fashion of the coven; it would be a spectacle for the public to behold at a premium price.

“My love, are you prepared to confront death’s beckoning this very night?” Santiago inquired, enveloping your hands in his own before guiding you in a slow dance across the stage.

“Yes,” you whispered.

“Louder, ma chérie. The audience needs to hear your answer,” he smirked, his glowing cerulean eyes locked on yours.

“Y..yes!” your voice quivered, the unease palpable in the air. You spoke louder this time, feeling uneasy as the audience laughed at your reaction. His hands were cold against yours, but you didn’t mind it. You had grown used to his cold embrace, the sharpness of his bite, and the nonexistent beating heart. It was hollow when you rested your head on his chest. You had believed you would fall in love with a man of warm flesh and blood, but instead, you found a cold demon had taken hold of your heart.

“Are you ready to be our bride?”

The coven moved into position, clad in white, reminding you of ghosts. They moved in spectral synchronization, swirling around the stage as Santiago danced you around. The fresh bite marks on your neck throbbed. Ruby droplets oozed from the puncture wounds, stirring the base desires in the ghostly vampires surrounding you. You kept your eyes trained on Santiago. He had offered you the dark gift, and you were willing to accept it and live by his side for eternity.

Eglee moved behind you, her fangs ghosting over your neck as her glass nails dug into the threadbare fabric of your black dress. The tattered garment had been a relic of old, worn by how many before you, you had no idea. It was a funeral dress with a high neck and frayed lace, but it portrayed you as death’s bride. The coven performers circled you, their greedy hands clenching at the hem. You twisted in the grasp until, finally, the gown was torn from your body, leaving you bare before the unfamiliar eyes of the audience and the salacious ones of the coven. Santiago beckoned you closer, drawing you into his arms.

“I am ready,” you whispered to him, then repeated your words louder for the captive audience to hear.

“Then it is time,” Santiago announced before sinking his fangs into your neck—a sweet burn, followed by a pulse of pain before it all became dull.

You grew limp as he drained you, as he lifted your weak body and passed you into the arms of the other members before they advanced on you. The curtains fell as thunderous applause and cheers filled the theater. Santiago ordered the others away, his voice muffled in your ears as you descended into darkness, unable to keep your eyes open. Life slowly drained from your body as your blood filled their insatiable mouths. You teetered into the darkness, letting it swallow you whole.

They suddenly pulled away from you, blood dripping from their greedy lips as Santiago loomed over top of you. His glistening nail sliced through his wrist before he knelt and pressed it to your mouth. You groaned as the ruby droplets filled you. Slowly, you gained your strength and consciousness as he brought you back to life. You grasped his wrist tightly as a voracious hunger surged through you.

“Ah, ah, chérie, that is enough,” Santiago scolded, patting your cheek before pulling his wrist away.

You sat up, your hair, longer and thicker, cascading down your naked body as blood clung to your mouth. Your tongue traced around your fangs, and you watched with fascination as your nails lengthed and hardened.

“I want more,” you growled.

“Then I would say a hunt is in order,” Santiago smirked, extending a hand to help you to your feet. The coven bristled in their agreement, and preparations were made. You dressed in leather jodhpurs, riding boots, and a red blouse, ready to tackle the City of Paris. The women of the coven decorated your fingers with ornate silver rings, and Santiago pressed his cigarette against your lips. You inhaled deeply, the smoke wafting around you as you tasted ash. The leather scent of his jacket was thick against your nostrils. Everything felt heightened. Enhanced.

“Come, ma chérie, the night awaits!” Santiago announced with a flourish.

The night became alive through your new eyes, vivid and bustling. You could smell everything: the hot blood pumping through veins, the sweet wine poured into glasses, the pungent smell of sweat, and you wanted to taste it all. Your vision was enhanced, making out the small details of clothing worn by the blurred bodies you passed and counting the cracks in the pavement. As his motorbike zoomed through the brightly lit city, your nails dug into Santiago's arm before letting out a whoop of delight. Santiago’s laugh bounced through the air at your enthusiasm. The coven descended upon a tavern on the outskirts, and the feeding began.

Your fangs sliced through flesh like butter, reveling in the warm spurt of blood that poured into your flushed mouth. You tore the throats of three men, draining them to the brink of death before releasing them. You wondered if you would ever feel full enough.

“You are a true creature of the night, chérie,” Santiago praised as his thumb traced around your crimson-stained lips, swiping the droplets away. He pressed the digit to his mouth and suckled it clean.

“I have never felt more alive,” you breathed, lifting your head to press your blood-stained lips to his, savoring in the intensity of his kiss.

His arms wrapped around your waist, lifting you into the air as the slaughter continued beneath your dangling feet. It was finally in death that you felt the most alive.

#fic: iwtv #sweetspicyhc #iwtv santiago #santiago x reader #santiago iwtv #iwtv fanfiction #santiago #santiago fanfic #tw blood #tw vampire

100 notes · View notes

kiyomai · 8 months ago

Text

disappeared off of the face of the planet but … been thinking about vampire!midoriya and how unbelievably hungry he’d be.

warnings. vampires, stalkingish, mind control, loss of autonomy(?), blood(he bites you at the end but it’s not descriptive) GN!reader, reader is called ‘pretty’ but everyone’s pretty so no gender attached to it, let me know if i’m missing tags please !!! minors DO NOT interact

he’s the kind of vampire who’d starve himself cuz he hates the idea of hurting people, of ripping through flesh to reach the one thing his body can’t live without.

but he can’t—won’t.

he’s not a monster, not at heart, at least. he doesn’t want to be a monster. he’s nice, he cares about humans—people, he has to remind himself.

they’re people, and i’m not a monster.

so he doesn’t eat.

but all things must eat to survive, even a creature like him.

and in comes you, unsuspecting little human that you are, walking down the dark, dark streets, aware of your surroundings, yet none the wiser of the real monsters lurking through the night.

izuku watches you from the rooftops, hears the way your heart beats a little faster with the way you’re speed walking, knowing how desperate you are to get home.

you’re so unbelievably human.

and he’s so unbelievably hungry.

he doesn’t remember jumping. one second you were out reach, and the next, well…he’s in front of you now.

your expression morphs into terror and your heart is beating out of your chest. it’s a good look on you, he thinks. you look so human.

you reach to grab something while your eyes are trained on him, watching his every move. smart, he thinks, too bad he’s not human. and with the little energy he has, he wills you to stop.

“it’s okay,” swims through your mind, sticking like honey. “you’re alright.” and with those few words, you’re at ease, and izuku thinks you look even prettier like this—under his thumb.

for a while, all he does is stare at you.

how long has it been since he’s been this close to a human before?

how long… has he been starving—denying himself of the one thing he needs to survive.

your hand twitches and izuku catches it.

oh right, he’s not that strong. if he waits any longer, you’ll break free in no time.

he takes the small window he has to get closer to you, thankful that you’re still under, and rests his head on your shoulder.

“i know this is a little strange.” his voice is soft as he speaks, but he knows his voice is echoing loudly in your empty little head. “and that deep down you’re scared out of your mind.” his hands are itching to wrap around you.

“i’m sorry. so sorry that i cant—that im not strong enough to make this painless,” his breathing quickens, unable to hold back. “i just want—i really need you.”

his hand wraps around your neck and the chill that runs through you drives him crazy. if you manage to slip through the cracks, he thinks he won’t mind it. “i promise i won’t take too much,” he breathes into your neck. “i just want a taste. you’ll let me have this, right, pretty?”

and with the last of his will keeping you trapped, you nod your head just enough for him to sink his fangs in.

a/n: i haven’t written in 2 years :O wow i’ve been lurking on tumblr dot com but writing became so difficult. i’ve been rewatching tvd and every time i see stefan i think of deku and how he’d be the same (especially in terms of ripper!stefan) yeaupp hope u enjoyed!!! likes, comments and reblogs are welcome and appreciated <3

#(・ε・) — my corner #deku x reader #bnha x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #bnha imagines #deku imagine #tw vampire #vampire #monster #<-just in case #tw blood #just in case #everyone’s been talking about vampires so i joined the club #my annual rewatch of tvd inspired this bee t dubs

88 notes · View notes

phantomfen · 7 months ago

Text

@deadonmayn Bonus day! Danny heals the pit rage | Fangs | Danny starts a fan blog featuring Red Hood. | "Oh, it's probably a terrible idea. But it would be so funny."

I came across a list of 'fanart memes' a while back and one was the pose from Magnet and I realised I've never drawn it and then I read Lost Between Our Needs And Wants by @murrcurial and I felt the need to do a second entry for the fangs prompt.

So here's a very fangy Dead On Main Magnet to close my series of entries for dead on mayn week!

It's been a blast!

#dead on main #dead on main ship #deadonmain #deadonmayn24 #dpxdc #drawings from the fen #tw blood #tw vampire

102 notes · View notes

sleepyconfusedpotato · 1 year ago

Text

🚬🦇 Some Vampire!Price AU Lore🦇🚬

Bonus Mummy!Gaz at the end 👁️👄👁️

Wrote this from morning until night before I sleep. I've got too much brainrot to just let it stay in my head. It has around 4k words so enjoy!

---

John Cristopher Price was born a human in 1286 in England. Coming from a lord status, He was an honorable knight through and through, loved dearly by his subordinates and of course by the king himself, Edward I.

Price died in the battlefield against the Scots when an arrow pierced through his heart. A former vampire saw his fortitude throughout his life, and made him drink her blood, and he rose as a human no more, but a blood-hungry vampire.

No amount of weapons could kill him -- pierced, stabbed, crushed, he always comes back. His thirst for blood couldn't seem to be controlled. He could see the blood flowing through every human he saw until one night, he unconsciously controlled his wife's blood, stopping her heart, and drinking her dry.

Ever since then, the people saw him as a monster, a demonic being that would end humanity. They demanded his head and even tried to burn him alive, yet the sharpest swords by the finest blacksmiths couldn't cut his neck, and no hellfire could burn him.

Not being able to live past his mistake of murdering his own wife, Price eventually escaped and lived in solitary, roaming around the British isle.

He lived through generations, learning how to live like a human. He pushed through the churn in his stomach as he tried to eat animals and vegetables, drinking water and tea even though his tastebuds only knew bitterness. Eventually, Price earned total control of his body, finding the sweetness inside the bitterness, and regulating his own stomach acid so the food he consumes stays down.

He came back to society during the 1500s when England was under the rule of Elizabeth I. He became a farmer, earning connections and new friends, all the while trying to find his place in the middle of humanity.

Price couldn't seem to stay away from the battlefield though, as when he defended his lord's land from armed mercenaries who sought for his lord's demise, one of the Queen's people saw his potential to be one of her loyal knights in her conflict with Mary of Scots. He went overseas to Spain, France, and even Russia for her, personally knowing Elizabeth until her death.

As one of Elizabeth I's subordinates, He became a knight for the rest of the House of Stuart monarchs. After that though, his age became a suspicion among the knights, so he pretended to die in one of the battles and went back to live in solitude.

For hundreds of years he lived in a cycle. Showing up out of nowhere in the city, become a soldier, sneakily drinking the blood of his enemies when his friends’ eyes were averted, and when the people around him started to notice his unaging face or when they saw him not dying from swords, he’d flee the city for one or two generations, and then coming back again to become a soldier.

Centuries passed. Newer and deadlier weapons were invented. Of course he tried the weapons on himself, but none of them managed to send him to the afterlife.

The cycles kept going, but just as he thought he had conquered this vampire body of his, something dreadful happened.

During the height of World War I, he was one of the soldiers who were deployed to No Man’s Land. After spending weeks and even a month inside the trenches, his thirst for human blood became unbearable and started to take control of his consciousness. Despite trying to fight the urge, all he saw when he walked by his fellow soldiers and superiors was each and every pump of their bloods moving inside the veins.

One night, his thirst grew out of his control, and he attacked one of his own fellow soldiers in his sleep – his own best friend. His friend screamed as he sunk his fangs into his neck, unable to fight Price’s monstrous strength. The other soldiers inside the trench heard the terrifying scream and saw Price in his most horrid state – bright red eyes filled with nothing but insanity, fangs deep inside a fellow soldier’s neck with blood running down his chin.

As his friend’s body fell to the ground, his consciousness returned and he saw what he had done. The allied soldiers started to rain down bullets upon him, fearing that the devil himself had come up to earth, yet none of them managed to pierce him. No kind of bullet was able to go pass through his skin, and no matter how much he shouted, more explanations would only make them more terrified.

And so, in the middle of the chaos, Price used his power to control the flow of blood of every single soldier with a gun in their hands, rendering them immobile against their will. He couldn’t say anything at that point. No amount of apology would bring his friend back, and no amount of explanation would stop them from fearing him. In his sorrow, Price climbed the trenches, welcoming all the incoming bullets from the enemies with open arms, hoping to end this curse of his. Of course, it could not kill him, an eternal vampire.

With nowhere to go, Price stormed the Axis’ side of the trenches on his own, attacking the enemies, drinking the blood of anyone he could sink his teeth to. The more blood he consumed, the more powerful his control over the blood of the people around him. At that point, his body was the fullest he’s ever been with human blood.

In his most powerful state, Price stopped the heart of every enemy in his sight, instantly killing them. As fear and chaos wreaked around the enemies’ trench, the Allied’s forces started their march, only to find Price nowhere to be seen.

After that tragedy, Price lived in solitude for years, hiding in the woods and mountains, swearing to himself that he’d never consume human blood ever again, even if it belongs to his enemies. He lived in the moutains, away from civilizations, hunting for animals to live.

That is, until in 1940, Price met Sir David Stirling, a British Army officer from Scotland who had been searching for the legendary “Devil of The Trenches”. Price was initially extremely apprehensive of his intentions considering how he literally trailed a mountain to search for a legendary being – a dangerous one at that. However, when Stirling told him that he’s aware of his powers and that he's in need of special people for his mission in North Africa, Price finally relented and joined him to his first operation after the World War I tragedy.

Price fought in World War II with David and other soldiers under the name Special Air Service, "L" detachment. He became one of the key figures of winning countless battles in the North African Campaign without people noticing his powers, thanks to David’s clever ways of hiding his power and authorities as a military officer, even freeing David and the others when they were captured and became a prisoner of war. Price’s existence quickly turned into a legend, and as time went on, his powers and abilities became a highly classified information in an already secretive corps, securing his identity and even his livelihood.

Price joined the major battles that the SAS had involved themselves in, even becoming an instructor among the British Army, sharing his vast knowledge of warfares that he’s earned from experience. He currently lives in his own house in London, living among humans as a regular person, owning a calico cat named Greg.

After his mission in Urzikstan, Price expressed his proposition to Laswell about creating a task force consisting of people with special powers and abilities, who could easily and efficiently finish the missions with little to no complications, all from the depth of shadows.

---

You've read this far, holy shit. Have a bonus story!

BONUS : Mummy!Gaz ⚰️🧢

Throughout his career, Price had found more and more people with special powers and abilities, like the big brooding man who could travel along the darkness and disappear like a smoke, a young Scotsman who had an animalistic trait and happened to be an exhibitionist, and… A bloodless person,

Who happened to be far, far older than him.

Price found his grave, or rather, his sarcophagus in Egypt back when he fought in World War II during the North African campaign.

Price, together with David Stirling and the first members of the SAS were intercepting the Axis troops' railways and supply dumps, when he'd found an evidently colourful sarcophagus inside one of the carriages.

See, this was not a weird or odd finding, because they've received some news about the unearthing of many sarcophaguses from the Ancient Egypt throughout many parts of Africa, even the ones belonging to ancient kings and queens. With that said, this finding was not much of a surprise for Price and his teammates, it's just that they had never expected to find one themselves.

This sarcophagus, though, didn't look like it belonged to a king or a member of a noble family. Despite the eccentric colours and engravings, it's not as large and humongous like those belonging to a monarch, so the members of SAS just dismissed it as just another coffin of a civilian.

Contrary to the others, Price felt like the sarcophagus was calling to him. The feeling was similar to when he died the first time and tasted the blood of the former vampire. He was about to lift the lid and see what's inside, before he felt David's hand stopping him as another battle was about to commence.

Still, after the series of war was over and he'd settled as a human, Price visited Egypt in 1996, adamant to get some clarity about the weird feeling he got when he was near that one specific sarcophagus. He went to the research facility where the objects found were examined and preserved.

Price then went ahead and asked one of the scientists about the object, and found out that the man inside was never an Egyptian man at all, rather a young man from an Ancient African kingdom, likely the Kerma Kingdom, who traveled to Ancient Egypt as an artist. The scientist surprised Price even more when he said that the man inside likely died around 1500 BC, which was 2700 years before Price himself died.

And he thought he was old.

As they approached the sarcophagus, the scientist left Price alone with the ancient object, as he thought this visitor wouldn't be able to lift the cover which was around 500 pounds or 226 kilograms.

Obviously, it was a small feat for Price.

The vampire lifted the lid and carefully placed the massive object on the floor, and for the first time, he saw the face of the dead man.

Even though he'd long died, Price could tell of the youth in his face. The face of an artist who'd traveled a long way to neighboring kingdoms in search of beauty and inspiration, seeking to sharpen his skills and broaden his knowledge more. Alas, he died a young man.

As he thought, Price felt the calling yet again, now louder from the absence of the lid. He first contemplated about touching such an ancient, possibly fragile object, thinking that it could contain some dark magic or any supernatural powers that were beyond his already vast understanding of the world. But whatever happened to him happened, he guessed. He's virtually uninjurable, and if he somehow died, then he died. End of story.

Finally, Price made up his mind, going ahead and touched the young man's cheek.

Yellow light started to surround the mummy's body, and gradually, the embalmed parts started to change– no, regenerate, forming a bronze coloured skin. His cheeks started to become fuller and fuller each second, the bony features of his arms and legs grew larger, forming a figure of a living human.

Price felt like he was about to faint. He couldn't even remember fainting in his lifetime, but he began to understand something. This mummy - this young man - was coming alive by taking Price's own life force.

Just when Price was about to fall, he released the young man's cheek and stumbled a few steps back. He witnessed as more bright golden light surrounded his body, and how a hand that was just a rigid limb before, began to move, albeit stutteringly, and gripped the edge of his own sarcophagus.

The young man slowly sat up, twisting his neck around like he just arrived on earth, before finding Price standing a few distance away. His eyes were golden, but the parts where it's supposed to be white were coloured solid black.

The young man emerged from his own coffin, very slowly putting his legs on the cold floor. He unsurprisingly fell to the ground like a stiff baby finding ways to manage with his body, before he stood up again, looking straight at Price through half bandaged eyes.

The undead started to walk very slowly towards the vampire, stuttering his movements as one of his hand lifted like he was reaching for him. Price stood up straight and activated his blood controlling power, attempting to stop this moving corpse in its track.

The vampire thought that he'd lost his ability to control blood. He thought because he hadn't consumed any human blood in decades, his power had weakened and even disappeared for good, but that was not the case.

Price couldn't see a single drop of blood inside the young man's veins. Nor his brain, nor his lungs, liver, and intestines. His torso was empty, save for his heart that was still inside his chest, yet the organ was not beating.

After 700 years of his life, Price had found an animate object that he totally cannot control.

The wonders of the world hadn't stop surprising him, huh.

Price, starting to feel fear after so long, could only stand still and let the young man approach him.

As his face got closer and closer, Price noticed that his face was not filled with terror or any negative intentions. It was filled with… happiness?

The young man was smiling.

His hands slowly cupped Price's cheek, and just then, Price began to feel his energy depleting rapidly. He's trying to take Price's life force again!

Reflexively, the vampire swatted the mummy's hands away (which was hard and heavy as a rock).

"What the hell are you doing?!" Price shouted to the young man. The mummy was taken aback by his statements, seeming like he got confused by Price's actions. Not only that, he proceeded to look down, observing his own body and limbs, which were still wrapped with bandages in some parts.

Suddenly, the young man looked at Price and rigidly hugged Price. The vampire was startled at first, thinking that he's about to take his life force again, but nothing happened. Just a simple, warm hug.

Something Price hadn't felt for centuries.

Just then, the sound of the door opening startled the both of them. It was the scientist that had come back to check on Price, and the utter shock on the scientist's face was priceless. The sarcophagus lid was open, and the mummy that was supposed to be dead was hugging the visitor with a grin on his face.

The scientist screamed in confusion and terror in Arabic, before Price slowed the man's heartbeat, prompting him to drop down to the floor in an instant in a sleeping state. The vampire cursed under his breath upon the situation that has fallen before him, and released himself from the mummy’s hug. He then ran towards the sarcophagus and put the lid back, and then he proceeded by carrying the sleeping scientist to some unknown room where he didn’t detect any other blood pulses - the storage room. After a few minutes, Price came back to the room where the mummy was, only to see that the mummy was nowhere to be found.

Price ran out of the room in search of the young man, stopping for a moment to detect the sound of any blood pulses of the mummy, but he exclaimed because he just realized again that that young man doesn’t have any pulse at all for him to detect. So Price began to run around the corner, finally finding the young man was looking up at the other sarcophaguses on display inside the facility, seeming like he’s enamored by the intricate engravings and colours.

Price gritted his teeth in frustration and approached the bandaged man, before fireman-carrying the mummy onto his shoulders. He then ran towards the exit of the facility with the newly reanimated young man, opening his rented car and sat him down to the passenger seat, before he himself sat on the driver’s seat.

Price huffed in relief, trying to make sense of what the actual fuck just happened to him. There’s a living mummy beside him, inside this fucking rental car.

“You, listen to me.” Price began, prompting the young man to look at him.

“You were dead for 2700 fucking years. Until today, you were still dead, but it looked like I was giving you my own life force so you can walk the world of the living again. So that means you’re alive because of me, you got that?!”

The young man only tilted his head in confusion. Of fucking course. He probably only spoke the ancient African and Egyptian language. He facepalmed.

“Okay, I know what if feels like to live again after dying. It’s confusing, but shite, not for 3 and a half millenias!” He shouted before taking a deep breath. “What do I call you? What’s your name?” The 710 year old asked the 3500 year old, his finger pointing at his chest.

That last word seemed to be familiar to the mummy, so he began to mutter some vowels out of his mouth. It looked like producing voice was still extremely hard for him.

“K–ka…”

“What? Ka? Speak clearly.”

“Ke…”

Ke? Kerma? That’s the name of the kingdom he was supposedly originated from.

After a few minutes of the same vowel coming out of the mummy’s mouth, Price began, “Ka. Ka. Kal.”

“Kyle. How about that?” The young man’s black and gold eyes widen. Price swore he saw a glimmering light from his eyes like he just heard his actual name, or at least one of the vowels of his actual ancient name.

“Yeah, you like that, Kyle?” The mummy nodded slowly. “Good. I’m about to give you one hell of a ride."

"Welcome to the living world, Kyle.”

---

Woohoo!! This became too long and even became a lore for Mummy!Gaz as well! Thank you so much for reading and hope you love it! ♡⁠(⁠>⁠ ⁠ਊ⁠ ⁠<⁠)⁠♡

Leave a comment down below 👀

365 notes · View notes

torchflies · 5 months ago

Text

I was cleaning out my drafts and found this tiny thing about vampires. For you, my beloved 💜 (ahem, middle-aged Val Kilmer).

Tomek Kazansky wakes from a dead sleep when a pair of hands close tightly around his ears, smothering the distant knell of a bell.

His blue eyes fly open to the sight of his ojciec chrzestny — his godfather — bent over him stiffly, stinking of nalewki, with an ax from the barn looped through his belt.

The old man’s eyes are cold, assessing, as he drinks in the sight of a five-year-old Tomek, the bastard son of a Polish nun who never named a father. His warm skin clings to its golden color, even when winter traps them in their homes and away from the sun. He is ruddy and strong, his little round face always upturned towards the sky and seeking out parts unknown. He is Polish and he holds their secrets in the clicking of his young bones, in the caul he was born with — just like his mother, his Mama.

“Come, Tomek.” His godfather, Piotr Czajkowski, says. “We must cut off her head by sunrise.”

His Mama’s grave is unquiet, that’s what his godfather says as they walk through the moonlit night and Tomek struggles beneath the weight of the heavy shovel handed to him. She has only been buried a day, dying before she could take The Sacrament.

“She is a vjesci now, lost to us.” His godfather growls — a vampire, as they unearth the pinewood box that houses her now.

Tomek has heard stories of becoming a vjesci for all his life. Babies born the way he was, the way his Mama was, born en caul — inside their sacs — are destined to wake from death as a vjesci. The only way to prevent the change is to eat the dried remains of the sac on the eve of the seventh year of life. His Mama never did. Tomek knows the rules, the way all the children in his village do, on how to prevent his vjesci mother from rising out of her unquiet grave and killing him. That is the first task of any vjesci, to slaughter their friends and family — ringing the church bell to signify their deaths and harbinging many others.

His Mama looks like she’s sleeping when they pry open her coffin, her cheeks still ruddy red and her hands flexible when his godfather lifts them: signs of life.

There are six holes in her white dress, as if she had been eating the fabric away.

That is the only proof his godfather needs before he — reaches a hand inside and lets her fingers coil around his.

She blinks open eyes of sanguine red and her lips curl in a bloody smile as she looks right at Tomek, her mouthful of sharp fangs reflecting off the light of the moon.

“Hello, Tomek.” She coos, “It’s almost time, little one. You will come home to us.”

His godfather flashes a mouthful of similar fangs, and Tomek remembers — his godfather died last summer in the barn, his ax slipped while he was splitting wood.

Tomek’s eyes grow wide and terrified, backing up to nearly trip into an open grave.

Come home, Tomek…

—

Come home, Tomek…

On the final night of Tom Kazansky’s life — he’s tired. His body is older than it should be, ravaged by a disease more nefarious than any of the monsters that haunted his childhood. Nightmares, dreams long forgotten, half-truths buried by a child who moved to America and left Poland behind to rot — not realizing how the tendrils of that life are woven into his very being, holding him fast.

He dies in his sleep, a peaceful death, his tracheostomy grows clogged with secretions as he sleeps and he passes without a struggle.

The man he loves is miles away, protecting their child, as Tom Kazansky breathes his last.

He just never expected to wake up again — or to wake up hungry.

—

#top gun #top gun maverick #tom iceman kazansky #top gun 1986 #Kit and mythology nerd moments #vampire Au #Kit writes stuff #I love folklore okay #😂#icemav #pete maverick mitchell #bradley rooster bradshaw #Not my images #Tw death #Tw vampire #Tw blood #tw body horror

50 notes · View notes

psychrodraws · 2 months ago

Text

When you feel safe, when you feel warm. That's when we rise, that's when we crawl.

Gliding on mist, hardly a sound- Bringing the kiss, evils abound!

IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT, LOVE BITES! LOVE BITES!

(🧡🩸Reblogs & shares are greatly appreciated!🩸🧡)

I will now return to my slumber, for another one thousand years... because I'm very exhausted after this!

What a YEAR it has been! Seriously, it's been a year since I started drawing my OC x Canon nonsense, and I gotta say it's been one of the most fun years of my life for that alone. The improvement between this year's piece and the art I was making last year is absurd. I mean, granted, last year's Halloween piece was done in abt 2 days of crunch, soooo... well, even compare it to this year's Valentine's Day piece and you'll see so much improvement!

I'm very proud of how far I've come, and I'm very excited to see where I go in year 2. I hope I'll get to see you all there! 💚💚💚

28 notes · View notes

forsapphics · 2 months ago

Text

150 notes · View notes

whitepine-estate · 5 months ago

Note

Okay, so this theory is partially based on VEX1N's Whitepine theory.

I'm gonna start with the most normal part, and the part that can most easily be taken as kinda a mini theory. Basically Pyroscythe has tuberculosis. All the symptoms line up (coughing, vomiting, etc) and Whitepine's a period drama, TB is pretty common in those and adjacent genres, plus was an actual threat back then.

Now onto the more insane part. Okay so one of the things that VEX1N points out is how the wound on Mysti's neck resembles a bite mark. TB was also associated with vampires and vampire attacks in the past. When Mysti asks Pyro if he had a bad dream, another symptom of vampire attacks, he dodges the question. I'm saying that the killer in Whitepine is a vampire. This is out there I know that, but hear me out. (most of the evidence for this comes from both the New England Vampire Panic, and Dracula, also random bits of vampire lore I've heard)

First things first, there's pretty clearly something wrong with those woods. All the shots lingering on them, the ominous sound design, there's something off. When Pyro is staring out his window, we see that his room seems closer to the woods than other spaces in the house. This means that if something malicious were in those woods, he'd be the easiest person to get to. The camera is also always in some kind of corner when Pyro's alone, almost like its stalking him.

Mrs. Hemlock is pretty clearly dead. It's implied she's been dead for a while (or at least a few months) given no one mentions her and her piano is in the basement. While I can't prove she's a vampire, at least not from ep 1 alone, its plausible. If we do go with the "Pyro's TB is caused by a vampire" theory, then that does point to Mrs. Hemlock being the cause as it was thought that if one family member fell to vampirism, more would soon follow. She'd also circumvent the whole "needing to be invited" thing cause it was her house.

While this is the part I'm even less sold on, it could also tie back to Ivory. Her habits remind me of two bits of vampire lore. The first one is how if you spill poppy seeds in front of a vampire they'll stop and need to count them all. While its more specific than what she does, it fits how she follows things to the letter. Does this mean I think Ivory's a vampire? No, I think she might be a dhampir. Dhampirs are half vampires, they can live like normal people and don't get burned by sunlight. However, in some superstitions they have "a dark mark on the back like a tail." While Ivory's tail isn't particularly dark, it felt wrong to not call it out.

The second thing it reminds me of is how, in Dracula, vampires can control people through force-feeding them their blood. This could also explain Ivory's weird way of carrying out orders.

I'll admit the Ivory stuff is probably the weakest part of the theory, overall it relies a little too much on obscure lore, but when I heard there was a possibility it could be a monster, I couldn't not mention vampires. I'm almost 100% certain Pyro has TB though.

idk if we're allowed to sign off but in case we are -🌊 anon

(Yup! Sign offs are completely allowed!)

As a lover of vampires, I adore this theory so so much - Plus, I’ve become a bit fond of Pyro too over the past few days.

I don’t honestly have anything to add, this is great plus I love the explanation behind Pyro’s vomiting and that he’s the easiest to get to from the forest to absolute bits - Would love to hear more thoughts on this theory. Particularly on your theory of how she might’ve died after acquiring vampirism!

#mod mossii #🌊 anon #pyroscythe #ivorycello #mysticat #tw illness #tw tuberculosis #tw vampire #tw death #Whitepine #mrs hemlocke

25 notes · View notes