#victorian vampires

[bellemorte180]

Victorian Vampire Klaus and innocent Caroline.

I channeled Dracula with this and it got kind of ...dark.

She was meant to be pure, to hold onto her virtue until the night of her wedding. It was only hours away now. She had been dreading it if she had been honest with herself, not wanting to spend the rest of her life with Stefan. Caroline had thought that her life was going to be nothing but misery but then the dreams started.

At first she thought she was going mad. The sinful acts her mind created had come out of nowhere, things she did not know existed were being done to her each night she slept. Then she would wake, marks left upon her body and sweat causing her nightgown to cling to her body. After the first week, she started seeing him in the crowds of London. He was always there, Klaus, at theaters, dinners and balls, she saw him. He would call her name in the darkness like the whisper of a lover. 

And then he knocked on her window the night before she was to marry another.

“I’m getting married tomorrow.” Caroline whispered as his lips were on her neck. Her head rolled against her pillow, the warmth of his body covering her. She should have pushed him off, scream for help but she didn’t. This wasn’t a dream, it was real and she could feel him. Klaus’s lips were torture, his teeth nipping lightly at her skin as his hands ran over her nightgown covered body. 

“No. I don’t think you are.” Klaus countered, chuckling as he pulled away. Caroline whimpered, not liking the cold and wanting to pull him close again, but he sat back on his knees. “You’re mine.” He pushed the strap of her gown off her shoulder. The tips of his finger traced her collar bone, dipping into her cleavage. “Night after night I would come to you, seducing you, claiming you. You do not belong to him.” 

Klaus gripped her gown in his hands and pulled it off her, not caring that it tore right down the middle, and tossed it onto the ground. He leaned forward and kissed her deeply, Caroline moaning into the kiss. His lips created a trail down the side of her neck, and into the valley of her breasts. He left pebbled kisses on each, lingering just long enough to nip at her erect nipple and create a delicious moan from her. He moved further south, placing kisses on her stomach as his hands rested on her knees, spreading her legs wider for him. 

Caroline looked down at her body, watching as he smirked and as he peered up at her. The devil was in his grin, and the sight only made her desire him more. Klaus placed a kiss on the inside of her thigh, biting her just enough to cause a small trail of blood to coat her creamy skin. Klaus licked it, causing the wound to burn just enough for Caroline to whimper. 

“Please.” She begged, not sure exactly what it was she was begging for. Memories of her dreams came in snipits but they were nothing like this. This was real, it was happening and Caroline wanted nothing more. As though Klaus knew what it was she was craving, he took pity on her. With a long lick, Klaus placed his mouth on her cunt and began to suck. “Oh sweet hell!” 

Klaus ate at her clit, showing her no mercy as she brought her to a new height. His fingers traced her entrance, pushing their way inside her and slowly fucking her. Caroline could not help the volume at which she begged and pleaded with him but she had a feeling that no one could hear her no matter how loud she screamed. She could feel herself building, searching for a release that she had only ever dreamed about. Then when it hit, Caroline had never felt anything so pleasurable. She screamed his name, arching off the bed and tossing her head backwards. 

Not allowing her a moment of rest, Klaus pulled his fingers from her cunt and undressed in an inhuman speed. He was over her again, spreading her legs out further so he could settle between them. He aligned himself with her entrance and pushed inside in one movement, taking the last bit of innocence he hadn’t already stripped from her since the moment he laid eyes on her. She was meant to be his bride.

He was not gentle as he fucked her. With each thrust he was hard and punishing, the hint of pain mingled with pleasure. It did not matter. Caroline held onto him, lost in the sensation and feeling of him. She did not care that the bed was hitting the wall or the mattress was squeaking loudly. She continued to scream his name, plead with him and search for her release again. 

When she peered up at him, running her hands through his blonde curls, she noticed that his face had changed. His eyes grew gold and black veins appeared under his eyes. His teeth grew sharp and long. She didn’t care. She didn’t care that he gripped her hair and tilted her head to the side. The piercing pain in her neck as he bit her, blood trailing down her body, only heightened the pleasure. Caroline’s final moments were crying out his name and a release sending her into a blackout as he sucked the blood from her body. 

That was how she was found the next morning, her mangled corpse laying in her white sheets that were covered in blood, sweat and semen. Three days later she woke up in a small space in a black dress she did not know. It was dark and the only thing she could hear was the sound of stone against stone. The lid of her crypt was pushed off in a single swoop and Klaus appeared above her, holding out his hand and welcoming her into eternal darkness.

[mysticstarlightduck]

Enchanted Illusions: (Victorian Gothic Fantasy) Valentine Concordium's Journal Entries (part 1)

Valentine Concordium, Year 53 After the Great Dawn, October 20, nighttime.

The mansion is too quiet tonight, it … bothers me. Makes me restless, unruly thoughts stubbornly resurfacing again. So, I walked to the woods today, hoping that the night’s fresh air might give me some respite. There was a dead deer near the mansion, and the still-bloodied dire wolves that killed her were not far away. I hope I was able to scare them off for good. Being a fanged creature of the night has its perks, I will admit. But it so seems that only when it comes to being a source of fear. Strange.  

At least there were no holy Hunters this time. They haven’t come for me in a month now, maybe they’ve finally given up! I don’t want to fight them anymore, but I don’t want to die either. I wish Sebastian were still here. I miss him a lot. It’s lonely, living by myself in these wide halls - there’s so much history here but so much sorrow too. My sibling always had something to say, even if trivial, about anything and everything. It seemed foolish, at the time. Now I would give anything to hear all of that again.

I still have yet to get used to the silence. 

But alas… I wonder what has happened in the cities, it’s been a while since I last paid them a visit. It's strange, getting used to this new peace treaty, even though it was established over fifty years ago, even though that’s what my family always fought for. It feels, almost, unreal. But I rather like it. Bloodshed is pointless, and I’ve seen my fair share of it to want to banish such violence from my life forevermore. I was too young when the wars started, but in a way, I wish I had been more naive. I wish I could have been more naive, but that was never my choice to make, it seems.

I don’t know what has gotten me thinking about all of this again. Maybe it was the unbearable silence, or seeing the dead deer and its… bloody insides. I do not know. And I do not like it. 

In a more positive discovery: I hear there is a train station being built down at Griffin’s Port. I might as well pay it a visit, if that city ever becomes less… dangerous. I’m curious, honestly, about how such contraptions work. I’ve seen trains in books but I’ve never quite been near one, much less gotten to enjoy such mode of travel. It’ll be a new, perhaps enlightening experience - and I hope it might be fun, even. Few things are, nowadays, but I want to feel that joy again.

I’ve spent far too much of my recent time cooped up in the study, surrounded by old specimen books and my - admittedly morbid - childhood butterfly collection, and the cobwebs on the ceiling that have yet to be cleaned - which I still have yet to figure out how to do. Transfiguring into a bat while holding a mop proved, well, disastrous, to say the least. Maybe it's time that I … try to do something new. See the world outside this walls, and far from this forest.

But the Hunters are always there. Waiting. Just like they waited for Sebastian. I’m tired of hiding, but I’ll also not lie and say that I am not scared of what is to come. Things were never quite so uncertain before, and well, I was never quite so alone, before. 

I guess I’ll just have to wait and see what comes next, and hope that it is not quite as disastrous and bloody as everything seems to make it seem. Maybe there’s still something nice, about this world. Maybe. I don’t really know anymore. 

It is getting late. Or should I say early? Either way, maybe I should try and get some rest, clear my head of… all of this. Of whatever this is. “There’s always a new night to come”, Father always said. But that thought never seemed quite so burdensome before as it does now - what good is a new night, if it’ll be just as haunting and boredom filled as it’s predecessor?

I’ll wait, and sleep, maybe I’ll know the answer tomorrow. Likely not, though.

[mollybeenoel]

Source: poeticalphotos

[bl00dfroma-fairy]

[morbid-romance]

🦇 🫀

[@signum.noir - Instagram]

[count-horror-xx]

I absolutely hate HATE the fetishzision of goth girls/people. I fucking hate it. We need to go back to being weird as fuck, off-putting, odd, whatever. I like being a gross nasty goth with a teeth collection and interested with Victorian medicine and death and has messy smudged grimey makeup and cracked lips and letting spiders crawl into my hands after they fell from their web to put them back. Everything that will make people who just see goth people as just a freaky sex thing to turn their noses because jfc I'm more than that.

[belalugosigrave]

[shadow-starx]

[pixelpolls]

Vamps vs Werewolfs like its 2010!

[cy-lindric]

I made a Victorian waistcoat to wear at the Théâtre des Vampires endless night party in Paris !

[mvdso2]

mvdso

[spookyasmr]

[mysticstarlightduck]

Flash Fiction Friday:

Prompt: The Devil You Forgot.

@flashfictionfridayofficial, @lassiesandiego, @writernopal, @lyutenw, @rickie-the-storyteller, @writeblrcafe

Snippet from my Gothic Victorian Fantasy WIP - Enchanted Illusions.

“The Devil You Forgot:”

The trio was surrounded, in that decrepit old mansion’s library, there was little place to hide, much less, from this man. Silas Holloway, the most powerful vampire lord currently living - the first to strike down his Maker in order to ascend into power, and he was out for blood of the heir to the Van Sterlling family. 

The night was eerily silent, almost artificially cold. Silently, Clarence looked for a way out, though from chosen every path, a new vampire seemed to emerge from the shadows just before they could walk any further. Behind him, Evangeline grabbed a book from a shelf, as if it would be any good against a mob of vampires, and Thaddeus reached for his gun, knowing the lead bullets would just bounce off of any of his targets. They crouched together behind a sturdy bookshelf, careful not to make a sound as they watched shadows flicker on the faint moonlight from across the other aisles, and the creaking floors gave away their enemies approach. There was no way out. 

“You know, your father tried to do this too, a few centuries ago” A sharp, male voice echoed throughout the vast room, as if all around them. A strangled noise of fear left Clarence’s throat, but he quickly silenced himself with a hand over his mouth. Evangeline placed an arm around his shoulder as the man continued. “Thought he could escape me. He was smart, very smart. Quite a lot like you - even managed to betray me and escape unharmed.” A chuckle echoed across the dark room, and Clarence struggled not to hyperventilate, knowing it would only give away their compromised hiding spot. Thaddeus all but growled, gripping his pistol harder as he tried to see where the older vampire was talking from. “Of course, I found him, eventually. But I couldn’t catch him, and he slipped right through my fingers once more.” The man’s voice reeked with hatred behind his sarcastic facade “I would have tore this earth apart to bring that traitor to justice, but then I realized how kind the Makers can be, as he left me something far more valuable than his life, the one thing that he loved more than spiting my line of work” Silas paused, and the trio realized, with a pang, where the vampire had been standing. “A son.”

That word cut like a thousand blades as the other vampire towered over them. 

At the same moment, all of the other vampires emerged from the shadows, forming a circle behind Silas and crushing any hopes of escape under the soles of their boots. In the darkness of the library, Silas’ cruel smile shone a sickly white glow. Clarence stands on shaky feet, trying to stare down the vampire and defend the last bit of honor his House has. But all that he can do is look fearfully ahead, his eyes not nearly as unmoved as he would’ve liked. He notices Thaddeus moving his pistol upwards from the corner of his eyes, and swiftly catches his friend’s arm with one hand. That’s just going to make things worse, he shakes his head quickly, never once looking away from Silas. With less confidence than he would have liked, he steps forward, placing himself so that the weight of the Vampire Lord’s wrath falls solely on him, and not in his human friends. 

“What do you want with me?” Clarence asks, voice far shakier than he would have liked. He stiffles a wince when Silas chuckles, a cruel sound. To his terror, Clarence suddenly becomes aware of the distinct, horrid smell of silver. 

“To collect what I am owed” Silas says through gritted teeth, and before any of the three can say anything, he has a hand to the young vampire’s throat, keeping him from running and lifting him off the ground. A silver ring sizzles his way into the younger vampire’s skin in an agonizing burn, but the Vampire Lord just laughs, unmoved even though the silver ring is upon his own skin. Behind them, his allies move to restrain the two humans, who had tried to defend their friend valiantly. Silas smirks as Clarence uselessly tries to thrash his way out of his grip, bringing him closer and lowering his voice. “After all, your father seems to have well forgotten that the price of treason is blood.”

[guardcanine]

[bl00dfroma-fairy]

[3victorian8]

“Shake thyself from the dust; and arise” ⚰️

Photography by Iulia Iepure

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