#vampire party

[emilyscastlevania]

[onedaughterofman]

Dark waltz (Vampire! Papa Emeritus x g/n reader)

Summary: Between sleep and awake, you meet your lover once again. Together, you waltz under the moonlight.

Tags: Any Papa you want (you and I both know you're thinking about Dracopia, tho). Mentions of blood, vampirism.

A/N: I wanted to write a little something as a New Year's gift. I listened to a lot of "vampire music" playlists on youtube, but I guess the song that inspired this is a slowed down version of "Merry go round" from Howl's Castle.

In the night, your eyes are closed. How beautiful the dark is, how many treasures remain hidden within it. The light can’t compare to the eerie beauty of darkness, to the peaceful embrace of the unmeasurable void.

Lids pressed tight, you take one deep breath before allowing your mind to drift far away. The sheets are soft and silky, warm with your body heat, and the bugs sing outside the windows. In the distance, your ears recognize the old, distorted toll of the abbey’s bells.

One, two, three.

Four.

Five.

Six.

The faint candle light is the first thing your eyes see. Then, the finely decorated ballroom, the paintings on the wall, the silver masks and the fancy clothing. Finally, standing in the middle of the room with one gloved hand extended in your direction, it’s him.

A man whose name remains a mystery to you, almost as hidden as his nature. You don’t recall how this started, how the darkness swallowed from your bedroom and spat you one night in this beautiful, bewitching place. A chapel, he says it is. A chapel of rituals, of parties and dances, of masquerade balls.

The floor clicks with each step you take. Remaining still, hand lingering in the air, Papa awaits for you to encounter him in the middle. He regards you with sultry eyes and a penetrating stare, mouth stretched in a kind but tight smile. Those lips are the same he uses to whisper endless promises of eternal love in your ears, but right now they remain shut.

He’s silent, and silently he escorts you to the middle of the dance floor. The leather of his glove is cold on your skin, but the sensation is pleasant, nevertheless. Papa stops suddenly, briefly bowing before placing a chaste kiss on the back of your hand. The gesture is not a surprise, since he always does it, but it never matches the profane and lascivious nature he has showed you during the previous meetings.

As chaste and polite as he might behave during these events, you know that’s only an act. A game, even, of cat and mouse he likes to play with you. Papa guides you around the room following the slow pace of the music, turning and swaying delicately with each note. His hands remain on your back, not ghosting anywhere else.

Oh, how much you tremble and yearn for more. Having him so close, feeling his cold breath over your skin and his touch on your body makes you shiver with anticipation. He’s yours, he said a long time ago, under the pale moonlight. Dancing around the garden, he professed his love and want for you, promising to always find you no matter what.

“In this place,” he said, holding you close, “between sleep and awake it’s where I will love you always.”

Among the trees, the rose bushes and the never-ending stars, Papa continued. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere, through Heaven and Hell.”

You never comprehended what he meant. Even now, spinning around the ballroom to the beat of the music, you don’t understand him. There’s fire in his eyes, you saw it, and his mouth meets yours in a way that feels familiar even if you had never kissed him before. In his arms, laying on his bed or walking through the long hallways, you feel at home.

Papa never stays for long, though. At some point, inevitably you blink and he’s gone, nothing but a pleasant and confusing memory to cling to during the days. He only meets you in the dark, during the middle of the night, when the cats roam the streets and the bats chirp in the sky.

When the song end, his steps halt. You lean forward, pressing your head on his chest. There’s not a sound there, not warmth or the lullaby of a heartbeat. He’s cold as always, body stiff in a way that makes you fear he’ll break. As powerful and ethereal as Papa constantly looks, there’s is a certain fragility within is skin and muscles.

He is not quite human, you fear. He rejected that part of himself a long time ago, Papa confessed upon your questioning. One day, you might reject it too, and the two of you could spend together the eternity, bathing in the thick, warm fluid of life.

Soaking in blood from head to toe, fighting to calm the frantic beating of your heart as his mouth presses on your flesh, sharp teeth grazing the skin. That’s how this meeting always ends. Papa’s tongue follows the faint outline of your artery, harsh breath sending shivers down your spine. His fingers remain closed on your wrist, as his other hand holds your waist.

And then, he never bites down. No matter how hard he shivers and how much his chest rises and falls with labored breaths, he never falls prey of his yearning. “One night,” he says, but never explains. “One night, I’ll be forever yours.”

On the blue horizon, the light shines distantly. Slowly, the nocturnal creatures crawl back to their holes, hiding in the shadows before the ascent of the sun. When the rays strike your eyes, you close your lids and focus on the fading touch of your lover, on the way the heat returns to your limbs as he dims away.

And then, there’s light. Yet, it offers no relief. You have seen horrors in daylight and experienced beauty in the dark. Sitting up on the bed, you wrap a blanket on your shoulders before exhaling hot air.

“One night,” he said.

One night.

Ps: Happy New Years! Hope you have a nice celebration <3

[ithisatanytime]

(nami)

[sonofcelluloid]

Wake up now, darling, I’ve acquired a speakeasy suite at the Forest Hills Stadium. The previous tenant will not be missing it. Chappell Roan is entertaining tonight. I’m quite fond of her avant-garde approach to the current century’s ideal of the pop icon. I’d like for us to exchange blood and do the hot-to-go dance. Fret not, beloved, I’ll teach you on the way. I’ve readied a shirt for you. It says, “He put his canine teeth in the side of my neck.” A witticism! Mine says, “I am he.” Dress quickly, I’d dread to miss Femininomenon. Rashid is picking up that cocaine you prefer and will be meeting us at the concert hall.

[kidovna]

thinking about him again

[userarmand]

When [Lestat] sees [Louis] on the street, and he sees, holy shit, that very, very, very beautiful man just pulled a knife on his brother in the middle of the street to look powerful, to save his own skin, and he has enough strength to do that. I think Lestat can see this guy has potential to really endure. He’s also got the hots for him really badly. | Sam Reid on the AMC+ Interview with the Vampire Podcast

[badkunz]

I wanted to explore the idea that Marceline "accidentally" died by the hands of Winter King, perhaps trying to protect Bonnie, and how he dealt with the guilt by having her reborn as his daughter.

[shatouto]

i've seen a poll about gale and anders but i feel like this one is a more difficult one to answer

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Is there a lore reason vampire fiddleford wears stereotypical vampire clothes or is he just Silly Like That /genq /pos

Yes, lore reason!!! That actually probably won't come up in the comic, so I'll answer it here!!

Fidds was actually wearing it for a vampire "meeting"!! Yess, he has been a vampire for a while, and he doesn't particularly like it, but he has to participate in vampire culture 🙏 And y'know, you have to dress up for those things. Stan just caught him at a bad time, he usually doesn't wear stuff like that!!!

So when he said costume party, it wasn't that much of a lie, who would've figured!!

[emilyscastlevania]

Copia (the band Ghost) by Mikael Eriksson

[2jihiir0]

they’re cosplaying each other (kind of)

🖤🎃🖤

Happy Halloween. Please misbehave!!!

[lestapppp]

me when the lights come on at the club

[iwtv-az-hours]

the prodigal son

[cuccoway]

I printed and cut out like almost 60 of these little gerard guys and im going to hide them around my school

I dont know what our senior prank is but this is my extremely self indulgent one

I may need more

[nuclearbleu]

A lonely rider stalks the hills of Barovia

Do not confront him, he is far past Redemption

[bocadelinfierno]