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newbornwhumperfly · 8 months

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thirst is all i know...

@ailesswhumptober - day one - drugging | sick | poisoned

look...it's been a thousand years but i was deeply inspired to write again from these beautiful whumptober prompts, so...here is some poor vampire girl enduring some Suffering 🥺🥺🥺

taglist - @much-ado-about-whumping, @whumping-every-day

title is inspired by benjamin alire sáenz - “you are thirst and thirst is all i know.”

CW: dehumanization, religious abuse, religious imagery, emeto, animal death, gore, disordered eating allusions, starvation, racism, creepy comfort

~

“Sit up, creature. I have something for you.”

Ardiñipén shuddered as the voice of the priest rang out, even the murmur echoing loudly in the quiet church. The flagstones beneath her are cold, no roaring fire in this space facing the pews, before the dreaded altar. She shudders again to remember that these stones would scorch her like a stovetop skillet should her limbs stretch beyond the edges of her refuge - the little square of holy cloth she’s been privileged to lay on when…Father performs his sacraments.

Knowing better than to lift her eyes to the man’s face, Ardiñipén only watches the stark white hem of his vestments sweep closer to her as she pulls herself up off her side into a kneel. She’s always supposed to kneel when she’s…up here. In the dark room below the church, she can lay however she wishes. Up here, no matter how many hours she is kept above in the place of merciless light, she must always kneel. Even sleeping, she kneels; head on hands, prostrate, bowed at the waist to sleep with her cheek pressed against the floor.

Repentance.

A low, hoarse whine wheezes from her lips as she drags her body quickly to its knees, the welts on her back coming alive again with a searing throb when she bows her body forward. It is nothing to what she would get for not moving eagerly enough…for showing stubbornness. She flinches at her own whimper and flinches again when the priest’s hand, whiter than his robes, drops into her vision.

But, rather than catching the sting of hot flesh and cold rings across the cheek, the tips of Father’s fingers hook under her chin. Her body jerks when Father touches her and she hates that she can’t tell if she’s pulling away or slinking like a dog beneath his hand.

Keep still.

Don’t make it worse.

You are still here.

It takes a scant second for her nose to catch what her eyes glimpse in the priest’s other hand and when it does, Ardiñipén’s stomach lurches.

He is holding an animal. Freshly dead, pierced through the heart, it smells like metal, like rát- red, hot, sticky, her belly twists, gums itch and throb. Her pointed teeth are gone, gone, taken, but the stubs of growth, tiny bone nubs barely able to poke through her itching gums now jut free and it aches.

She doesn’t even know a trail of spit drools from the corner of her mouth until the priest makes a sharp noise through his nose and pulls away.

Ardiñipén whimpers, freezing up, but there is no blow. Instead, the dead thing is dropped before her. It is…a little, what is it, rat. Small, black animal. She can smell the wound and a trail of her hunger drips off her chin to the floor. She doesn’t even mind, all she can think about is the flesh, about the gush, the sharp flood of zhuvel still burning across her tongue.

Her mouth opens, a whine of air that twists into a sound.

It sounds like ni hačarav tut-

“What have I taught you about speaking in the Lord’s tongue?”

She flinches, no longer needs to blink but blinks heavy, eyes hot, dry, raised in pleading and she cannot see the priest’s face through the water that rises in her and she’s so, so, so hungry, please, she hasn’t had a bowl in days.

“S-So…rry, Fa-ther. Do…not…know?”

Her hands tremble, gripping her own bare knees so tight that the edges of her nails dig and dig into her skin. She’s trying. Wants to be good. She wants to eat.

She knows not to say she wants anything.

Ardiñipén’s mouth is wet as her eyes, belly throbbing like it’s own bruise when she rasps. “I..be…g-good, Fa-ther. Am good.”

Quiet. And then…a soft sigh.

“You have permission to eat, creature. If that is what you truly want to do, I will not keep you from eating. This is your choice.”

The fear is quick, a passing shudder, but the hunger is much stronger. When the man says eat, the thread keeping her frozen is snapped and she gathers the animal up in her hands.

And she eats.

Fur, soft, black.

Muscle, skin, bite, tear, fangs too small to pierce deep.

Face buried, whole body in mouth to get a bite, tear, grip, rip, drink.

Rát.

Blood.

Rat.

Still warm, wet, sticky, suck, suck, suck.

Ardiñipén’s head is hazy as she, dimly, sees herself in her own mind, hunched over naked, red dripping down her chest, her neck, face painted with what she drinks, until she wrings the body like a rag, drinking those drops onto her tongue.

Wet falls from her eyes, crying, as the fist of her belly loosens around its fullness. It is only a little blood but it’s enough. It’s something. Not a watery bowl of balo blood. This is food.

There is something…almost sugar-sweet on the undercurrent of the taste, something that drags the fog of her mind heavier and heavier, and, as she slumps to her side on the floor, the sleep of eating washing over as the cooling little body stays clutched tight in her hand, she smiles up at the priest through eyes that cannot see how his face looks and she cries and is so grateful.

~

Ardiñipén wakes up sick.

Retching onto the stones, she wakes with burning bile in her mouth, spilling out like fire, and her stomach hurts. It hurts, it hurts, the grip of hunger was not anything, nothing, not to this. Her hands clutch, dig into her belly, and there’s a yák inside her stomach, hot, hot, stabbing.

Help. Help. Help.

The sick wells and wells, she can’t breathe around the flood, the gagging spasms, heat bursting across her spine as her retching splits the welts. Ardiñipén curls in on herself, coils, sobbing, twists on the floor as she burns inside, wails as another twist wrenches through her body that makes her gag, gag, get it out, and she spits, spits, get it out.

Her body tries and tries to purge, her muscles wrench against her bones, her skin trying to pull away from her limbs, her heart, her stomach, her guts, all throw themselves against ribs that will not break, against a body that will not faint, trying to vomit the fire out of her, like a dancer, like the flame-eaters, and she can’t get away from her own body.

She does not hear the approach of footsteps over her own rasping, the rattle of chains around her thrashing ankles, but she spasms with a choked scream at the hand on her head, her arms curling, knees tucking up, to cover her belly where the fire is worse..

No more pain. Not now, now right now, please not now.

No more pain comes. Instead, she feels her head lifted, her aching neck pillowed in a hand known by the coldness of its rings, now cool, blessed, against the sticky-heat-sickness of her skin. Ardiñipén whines, twitching, bled dry of even being able to curl up when Father pulls her close. She couldn’t pull away even if she had the strength.

“F-Father- help-”

“There, now.” Father whispers, fingers colder than stone cooling her brow, brushing back the hair sticking to her face. His fingers smell sweet as the blood of the rat, soft as the fur of the animal. “You see what comes when you get what you want, child? How sick your body is making you when you feed? I know it hurts, child, I don’t want to hurt you.”

The rat made me sick.

My body made me sick.

He made me sick.

I don’t care. I’m sick. Help me.

A dry, scraping retch lurches her closer, a sob jerking her body into Father’s arms. His arms are soft and cool and hold her body still, anchored in her helpless shuddering.

“Hurt-” She sobs and the right word for that falls easy as bile off her lips. “Hu-hurts…h-help…”

“I will help you, child. Let your Lord’s love feed you that none may know hunger or thirst.” Father murmurs and his hands are heavy on her back, the rings searing under the weight of his touch. “Do not be afraid, child - I will save you from your hunger.”

~

it’s truly been so long since i have written and i am trying to just put something out there without agonizing over perfectionism - i so, so appreciate y’all’s support of my blog despite it being a barren field for so long <333

(glossary of romani* words & phrases: ni hačarav tut - “I don’t understand”, rát - “blood”, balo - “pig”, zhuvel - “life”, yák - “fire”)

*my two main sources are glosbe.com and alsglobal.net & i acknowledge these sources are a little shoddy, so i deeply welcome corrections or input on my use of this language!

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cherrygothnightmare · 11 months

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#goth #vampire aesthetic #goth aesthetic #vampy #vampire #romantic goth #creepy #graves #angels #vintage #angel wings #dark red #red aesthetic #dark angel #gothic #church aesthetic

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 now: https://youtu.be/bWiW4Rp8vF0?feature=shared

The American Climate Leadership Awards 2024 broadcast recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by active climate leaders. Watch to find out which finalist received the $50,000 grand prize! Hosted by Vanessa Hauc and featuring Bill McKibben and Katharine Hayhoe!

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ophelialoveshandsomemen · 4 months

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Say what you will about Van Helsing 2004; hate it, love it, be indifferent, But the All-Hallow's masquerade ball went sooooo hard and it had zero right to do so! It's a fun, campy, monster mash movie with wonderfully dated ( and expensive) cgi and non-stop action meant to be a popcorn flick one takes out to watch around spooky season. And it has this* chef's kiss* GORGEOUS 6 minute sequence plopped arbitrarily in the second act, which unexpectedly surpasses nearly every other ball in the last 30+ years of film( notable exception being the Cinderella 2015 ball) for literally no reason other than to be dramatic af.

Like feast your eyes on this Gothic masterpiece!!! Who doesn't want to immediately live in this picture?!??

They used those candles with oil in them so that they would have real candles, real string orchestra( I believe), probably around 100 real life extras( something which is tragically absent in modern film), said extras are all in beautiful fully decked-out costumes( which are in luxuriously dark colours, but nearly no fully black, another thing you cannot say for much modern cinema), REAL CIRQUE DU SOLEIL PERFORMERS for all the acrobatics!!!! Hell, instead of filming in a sound stage, where they could control the reverb and the acoustics and the size of the set and the bloody lighting ( they apparently had a heck of a time emulating the firelight for this sequence) and the temperature( it's very cold in stone churches!) better, they filmed in a Baroque church in Prague! As I said, peak dramatic splendour, jfc...

Think about that a second...They filmed a vampire masquerade in a Baroque Catholic Church( St. Nicholas' in Lesser Town, if you were curious) with amazing over-the-top acoustics and marble statues and real, tiled floors and marble pillars and a choir loft which they very much utilized, covered the pipe organ and the altar with a grand brocade curtain so it wouldn't be so obviously a, you know, a church! And there's a gold gilt elevated and canopied pulpit into which they put two vampire kiddies for, again, the sake of being dramatic.

And the costumes! They remind me of the 25th anniversary Phantom of the Opera Masquerade costumes. Same quality, like they're old, well-cared-for costumes pulled out of a warehouse, instead of fast industry churn-outs. With lots of trim and colour and masks and lace and feathers and..just...ugh.. they are all perfect! Just look at all the head pieces on the ladies and the hats on all the gentleman ( save Dracula of course) and the powdered wigs on the musicians. ANNNNDD! The dresses are historically correct!!!!!! It's the 80's bustle era! Nobody does the 80's bustle era in film anymore and it's a bummer. Oh and one other thing! Anna's ( and other women's) hair, at least here in the ball, is also historically accurate because it's all pinned up! None of those fucken modern beachwaves at a ball! Everybody's got updo's!

Gah, I swear, Dracula in his gold cloak really does things to me in this scene!

By the way, the acrobatics are bonkers in here for just background stuff!! Especially the random guys on unicycles and the dude playing the violin whilst standing on a ball...Like....WHAT?

Anyways, all this to say, that this masquerade ball feels sooo real and tangible and because of that it blows every other film out of the water, and no, I will not change my mind!!!!!

Here's a few more gifs, bcuz, why the hell not, this scene is sexy as fuu*ck?

Alright I need to go to bed now.

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g0r3slvt · 9 months

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🩸🦇🪦

#vampire #church #victorian #goth #gothic #gothic architecture #gothic church #red #vampirecore #vampire aesthetic #achitecture

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typewriter-worries · 10 months

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“Take Me to Church” is essentially about sex, but it’s a tongue-in-cheek attack at organizations that would ... well, it’s about sex and it’s about humanity, and obviously sex and humanity are incredibly tied. Sexuality, and sexual orientation — regardless of orientation — is just natural. An act of sex is one of the most human things. But an organization like the church, say, through its doctrine, would undermine humanity by successfully teaching shame about sexual orientation — that it is sinful, or that it offends God. The song is about asserting yourself and reclaiming your humanity through an act of love. Turning your back on the theoretical thing, something that’s not tangible, and choosing to worship or love something that is tangible and real — something that can be experienced.

- Hozier, in an interview with The Cut

#i need to know what he thinks about amc's interview with the vampire #something tells me he would love it #hozier #take me to church #quotations #love as religion #dark academia #light academia #classic academia #unreal unearth

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yoursghouly · 9 months

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Photography of St. Sebastian’s Cathedral by Klim Musalimov

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ecoamerica · 2 months

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youtube

Watch the 2024 American Climate Leadership Awards for High School Students now: https://youtu.be/5C-bb9PoRLc

The recording is now available on ecoAmerica's YouTube channel for viewers to be inspired by student climate leaders! Join Aishah-Nyeta Brown & Jerome Foster II and be inspired by student climate leaders as we recognize the High School Student finalists. Watch now to find out which student received the $25,000 grand prize and top recognition!

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katherinewranovichphotography · 1 year

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Instagram

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braiindeath · 1 year

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#gothic #gothic architecture #red #red aesthetic #red goth #goth #goth aesthetic #red blog #monochrome blog #church aesthetic #vampire aesthetic

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bl00dyb0 · 1 year

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Gothic Architecture🖤🖤🖤

#vampire goth #alternative goth #goth #mall goth #romantic goth #gothique #gothicliterature #soft goth #church #goth fashion #gothic #goth goth #90s goth #goth makeup #goth girl #red moodboard #vampire #ghost #spooky

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grungeprincess2 · 6 months

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She loves the dark

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the-modern-typewriter · 5 months

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As a long time lover of vampires, I have recently stumbled upon your wee blog and your vampire writings have me feral and unhinged. You truly capture the alluring and terrifying predator that the vampire should be. They are just so *chef's kiss* amazing! Superb!! Thank you for the undead food!!!

"Do you ever get an answer?"

The protagonist startled, head snapping up. The boy was standing only a metre away, in the aisle, smoky and soft in the candlelight. His eyes seemed to burn, pinprick red and gorgeous, with the fire's reflection. He was...well. He was beautiful.

The protagonist quickly looked away. It was wrong to think such things.

"To your prayers," the boy added, with a smile. "Do you ever get an answer? You're here a lot. I've seen you."

The protagonist swallowed. It would be wrong to lie, and a confession of something to say no. Never. It wasn't something they could say to their parents. What if the silence simply meant that they'd done something wrong? Their parents always seemed so sure.

"I've never heard anything back either," he said, in a confiding tone of voice. "I'm always curious if it's just me."

"He has his reasons, I'm sure. I mean, that's what everyone says."

"Well, if everyone says it."

When they looked up again, the boy was closer than before, in the row in front of them, hands resting lightly on the pew separating them. He had nice hands. Elegant. They were nothing like the protagonist's; calloused, nail-bitten, rough. They would probably be very soft to hold.

They realised they were still on their knees and quickly hastened to stand, cheeks flushing. "I didn't mean to interrupt you," they said. "It's not - people aren't normally here at night."

"No," the boy agreed.

"But you are?"

"Insomnia. I don't sleep much."

"The priests don't mind?"

His smile curled up like kindling catching; just as bright. "They think it's dangerous to be out at night in these parts, but it's yet to stop me."

"My parents don't like it either."

"But here you are."

The protagonist shrugged. "We don't live far from the church. And they - well - they like that I come here."

"And nothing bad can happen on hallowed ground, of course."

"Right."

His eyes really were astonishing. Further away from the light of the candles, the protagonist had expected them to grow shadowed like the rest of his face, but they still seemed so bright. Intent, in a way that nobody had ever looked at them, but which sent a delicious shiver down their spine.

The protagonist realised, with a sharp stab of embarrassment, that they'd leaned in.

"It's okay," the boy said. "I think you're real pretty too."

"It's a sin to lie in church." Their face burned, though. Never mind that they should have protested so many other things about the statement.

The boy laughed and that really was pretty. He leaned in a little in turn. Up close he smelled like...like...the protagonist wasn't exactly sure what it reminded them of. Roses wasn't quite right. Neither was the first snow of winter. Yet it was both of those things, and water on stone, and the church itself a little. Something fleeting. Something that had been there forever.

His finger ghosted beneath the protagonist's chin, a caress, a whisper.

"I - I should go," the protagonist said.

"You don't want to though. You want to kiss me."

Was it so embarrassingly obvious, that forbidden thing?

It was true, but the protagonist would never have said it, never have done it, never have even dreamed of something so bold as to kiss a total stranger in the middle of the night. It was so...the priests would surely not approve. It was difficult to think about the priests, about anything else, when he leaned in the rest of the way.

It wasn't a proper kiss. It was another whisper. A yearning.

Hunger.

It sprung inside the protagonist so hard and fast that they were almost winded by it. To kiss this boy. To be held in the hand of something ancient. To lose themselves in something beyond human.

The protagonist blinked. They shook their head, trying to clear it.

The boy kissed them. It was sweet and heady. For a second, his lips were so cold that the protagonist gasped.

In an instant, or maybe it was a long time, the boy had moved. He had taken the protagonist's hand. He had led them to the altar, glittering a dark gold in the night. Time was honey and melted wax. Time was that his lips were still against theirs, and it was all surely wrong, but their first proper kiss didn't feel wrong at all. It felt like the answer to a question they had been screaming for a while.

They were both on their knees, then, somehow. His fingers carded through the protagonist's hair, so gently, so tenderly. His lips trailed a song against the protagonist's throat, a comet path. Hot. Scattering molten stars through their body.

"Pray," he whispered against their ear. "Tell me if you get a fucking answer this time."

Then he sank his fangs into the protagonist's throat.

#idk what to tell you guys #it just happened #vampires #writing #short story #vampire #blood drinking #ficlet #fic #writeblr #short fiction #creative writing #something something I'm a bit obsessed with the idea of gods and vampires and churches

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fucklestat · 2 years

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Lestat’s reaction to Louis drinking his blood.

#iwtv #iwtvedit #interview with the vampire #iwtv amc #lestat de lioncourt #lestatdelioncourtedit #loustat #honestly it's a good thing they didn't bring the camera into focus on him bc i would not have made it out alive #anyway congrats to louis for sucking this atheist bitch off so good that he creamed his pants and saw god #in a church no less!#*gif #*iwtv

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one-time-i-dreamt · 7 months

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My Philosophy professor slept over at my house while I was working on a huge paper on vampire ethics. I got trapped in a church the size of the Empire State Building, and I never found out if vampires were real or not. ;-;

#dream #philosophy #professor #school #vampire #thics #church #empire state building

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the-countess-vampira · 11 months

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