Misplaced Lens Cap
@theartofmadeline
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@bebedores
𝓶utuals only & low activity original 𝓿ampire character ﹙luciano aldaz﹚ from the historical myth of 𝓿ampires in madrid in the early 3̶0̶𝓈, with themes from the grand budapest hotel, pan´s labryinth, a dowry of blood & strangetown hotel... plus some ghost stories and nye whimsy.﹙c𝒶rrd﹚• affiliated with @apotheocis
Josh Whitehouse as Sir Cole in The Knight Before Christmas (2019)
@bebedores: ❝ I don't assist guests unpacking, but I can be persuaded. ❞
❛❛ What a fine gentleman you are, then! ❜❜ a light jest, made in amusement as a slight smile blooms on her face. Rosy hues colour her cheeks, eyes wide and twinkling with awe. Curiosity always seemed to get the best of her, no matter the circumstances at hand. She remembers those nights as a girl, slinking in the long hallways of the Paris convent, roaming to her heart's content with all of the sisters fast asleep. More often than not she would be caught, with a harsh caning and an hour in confession for her impertinence, but the thrill of being caught—of secrecy—was something she always chased, perhaps hoping that one day, there would be a secret that would be entirely hers to keep.
❛❛ Come now, I am quite fatigued. Would you really make a lady carry everything all on her own? ❜❜ With an exasperated huff, she keeps her gaze fixed on Luciano, fidgeting with a small, loose thread on her glove. ❛❛ Besides, we have hardly gotten the chance to catch up since I arrived. Won't you sit down for some tea with me later, hm? ❜❜ With such a quick dismissal, it's only natural that some suspicion is aroused: what could he possibly have to hide?
what a troublesome blessing. lovely as always, she threads around his admittedly weak barriers with ease. you never could trust performers, not her, not him. what’s worse is: he could not smile. some of his peers ( peers is a mockingly bad term ) could glamour themselves into something more human, and yet luciano, with his bleeding and beating chest could still not fashion such deceit. heart – sleeved artist, who’s only sin has been sincerity ( and other more mundane ones that are not relevant now ) faces the unfair need to lie, not for a tip, but for her safety. as careless he could be with beautiful women, the friendship they had accrued must be worth the protection of this cursed fate, at least.
‘ tea… you know i don’t like tea, ’ he mirrors her pouts, it’s the most he can do without smiling with his teeth. he’s already reaching to obediently carry her bags, but its evident his brown gaze seems to reflect upon redder hues these days. good thing his mother always said he had bull - lashes, those he keeps down to the floor, trying to decipher if she had a long journey here. he never did prefer tea over wine, but lately it’s hard to keep anything down. he is told it will be fixed. her perfume smells lovely, however. it’s the least nauseating thing he has smelled all day. so he does what he does best, talk and distract: ‘ there aren’t any protests out today, you should enjoy the day. maybe get flowers. the royal garden has roses, i’m sure they would look lovely with your dresses and hats. steal some. they don’t keep guards. ’
like this and i'll send you some creative sentences ! having a hard time finding my footing here since raven is consuming me as usual but i have many good ideas here specially a hot 80s timeline and the ballroom/bachata dancing king concept goodbye
officially getting on here w a vibe check
hi, i don't follow you, and i don't intend to, just wanted to let you know that your graphics are absolutely stunning, i've been sitting here looking at that header for 5 minutes because i'm obsessed with it x
so tumblr never notified me of this sorry for getting to it now ! i hope you don´t mind that i post it bc i just want to save it somewhere !! thank you so much this is extremely kind of you to take time out of your day to send this. your header is so beautiful too, i love how the texture and the grain work together. i hope you have such a beautiful weekend !
the acquisition fair ran until nine. yuha had known about it for three weeks and had been intending, for three weeks, to send a junior consultant in her place. the crowds. the noise. the particular performance of enthusiasm that these events required from everyone in attendance, the way people talked about objects they had never had the patience to truly look at. she had drafted the email twice and deleted it twice and arrived, ultimately, at seven fifteen with her coat still buttoned and the expression of someone who had made a decision they were not entirely at peace with.
she had been there for forty minutes before she noticed him. she noticed the crate first, which was being moved with the specific carelessness that made something in her jaw tighten. mid-century lacquerwork, she was almost certain, being carried by two men who were talking about something entirely unrelated to what they were holding. she tracked it across the room without moving, the way she tracked most things, prey also, until it was set down at the table of a dealer she did not recognize. in front of it, a man. a face that rang a bell.
young. or — not young, exactly. she had stopped trusting her instincts about age in the conventional sense a very long time ago. but not truly old, nor newborn, to whatever he was now, she thought — the particular quality of someone still learning the dimensions of themselves. she stopped at the edge of his table and looked at the crate, and then, briefly, at him. she knew that face. not from the fair, not from any professional context she could place quickly. from somewhere that sat differently in her memory, filed under the category of things she had encountered and not forgotten because she had learned, over a very long time, that the things worth not forgetting tended to announce themselves as such. the smell reached her a half second later and confirmed it — rose and powder soap, and beneath it that other thing, changed blood, blood that had been changed for some time now but was still, she thought, venom-filled.
she had last seen him — when? six months ago. nearby an old hotel. the fair had been in this building then too, she recalled, and he had been wandering around it, some vampires as company. the place had been reeking with them. it didn't seem like a big coven then, if even, if he was ever part of one ; he was also, clearly, not here in any professional capacity related to the fair, which raised a question she did not ask immediately. ❝ that was carried incorrectly, ❞ she said, by way of introduction, or what passed for it. ❝ if the contents shift during transport the lacquer cracks along the seam. it's an irreversible process. ❞ she was already looking back at the crate, instead of him. ❝ may i? ❞ she said — and it was barely a question, her hand already moving toward the air, in graceful, artistic fashion. pointing to it.
𓏲ּ𝄢 a starter for @bebedores.
if there is something he had become good at through his newfound immortality ( it wasn't new, not really, and yet only now it felt as if it were real, or vaguely so ) was deciphering what kind of monster he was meeting. inhuman or human, he had truly known what evil felt like when that killer - ichor veiled his own veins. he felt evil within his sister, which was the same thing as feeling it within himself. and despite the distance they now sport, she can feel lucero even more deeply within his skin. he had heard it was unlucky vampiric nonsense. she had turned him, and she was his grecoroman other half, if the myth of twins had any merit. but he hadn't studied it to know if it was bullshit or the misery of this endless biology. he didn’t want to learn anyway, he couldn’t stomach it yet.
the dark, gentle vampiress @vanpyres had caught his eye before. he was ignorant to also have caught hers. vampires must be aware of each other in the wild, he assumed, but kept a respectful distance. at least vampires in spain dressed themselves in the laissez faire characteristic of a country forged by separated unity. so he learned to keep to himself. no business with these creatures kept him safe, not more than his undead employment required anyway, but his eyes still worked to find beauty, not just evil, and he had not caught any peculiar scent of horror in her. only the serenity of her voice and dizzying choreography of her body. how pleasant she must’ve been as a person. it’s a pity she is lost like he is. she, however, doesn’t seem in any distress of her condition. it didn’t matter, he wasn’t going to talk to her anyway.
or, that was her intention, but surmised within his thoughts, he’s gently driven back to reality by her indication. whatever she said seemed like an instruction despite sounding like anything but, and her was about to collaborate soundlessly until he remembered he was supposed to be against whatever charm the preternatural possessed over his still very human sensibilities. ‘ it’s fine, ’ it wasn’t fine. it probably did him well to listen. but he’s never known himself to be submissive. ‘ don’t trouble yourself. my father, ’ and here he is lying through teeth that he conveniently keeps out of sight, his father only taught him to leave ‘ taught me to be a gentleman, ’ what was that ridiculous idea of gender anyway, in the face of endlessness ? he needed to find excuses that didn’t make him look like a secret asshole. ‘ i can do it, ’ and here his eyes brighten in some mischievous joy, he felt as if he was playing chess with her somehow. ‘ i’ll do it. instruct me, miss, tell me how. i’m good at following orders. ’
Bat lantern from 1930.
i think you all should follow my vampire oc.
i am focused on finishing raven´s queue but i´ll be here this weekend ;3 how are y´all lil vamps
the hallway was dark, the kind of dark that settled into bones and made you remember every story you'd ever heard about things that lurked in shadows. this was luciano on the other side of a door that wouldn't open, and something in the air that made her skin prickle with the awareness that the world had shifted while she wasn't looking.she knocked again. softer this time, because the first had been too loud, too urgent, the kind of knock that said something is wrong and she didn't want to frighten him if he was already frightened. if he was already afraid she'd... do something wrong, like she often did.
❝ luciano, ❞ she called through the wood, and her voice was steady because she had trained it to be steady, because singers learned early that fear made the notes crack and she could not afford to crack now. there was a frown in her face. not that he could see it, and not that he'd care. ❝ are you worried about my reputation suddenly? ❞ there was an anger to her tone. a bite. an ingénue shouldn't have it, but christine went beyond such persona. she liked the gothic tales of old as much as she enjoyed to hold angels against her chest in prayer. it made no sense; he was a flirt, always had been, and such a man couldn't truly care for what was thought of her; a low singer, an orphan with no family to care for. even if her patroness tried to make a star out of her.
❝ i don't care about it, ❞ she said, and the words came out fierce, fierce in a way that surprised her. ❝ you're lying to me through a door, like a coward, hiding in this place. you're clearly not fine but you sure as god don't sound sick. why are you lying? ❞ her hand curled into a fist against the surface, as if she could hit him. she heard him move. closer. close enough that if the door weren't between them, she could have reached out and touched him. close enough that she could hear — could she hear it? — the absence of something. the thing that should be there and wasn't. ❝ i'll ask the woman downstairs for the keys. i'll enter the room, you want it or not. ❞
the singer’s perception of herself was entirely so wrong that luciano, even now, succumbed to his own self – preoccupations, could only worry about what she was feeling. it was rather selfish of himself, in a way only a man can be selfish. he was born to see the beauty of this world, but he was not meant to add from it. as an artist, he believed his duty was to speak what was true into existence. not create. he could not make her see herself with more certainty, even if she ought to prove her worth. he didn’t know how, without feeling like yet another cocky know – it – all. so he could only bounce laudations into her without the grace of knowing if they’d fall into her ears properly.
it was silly to be concerned with this now, when his teeth dripped in his own thirsted saliva and his hands trembled against the door begging to let her in. he fought against his instinct but he could not fight against better judgement. it was not safe for her to be alone in these halls. it was not safe for her to be alone with one like him. and yet, even with how disgusted he’s been with his own condition, he knows that there are worse evils than the one of a muzzled dog.
the moment is merely a second. his newfound speed to blame. from their divided stance door to door, he bolts from his room to drag her in, pushing her body against an immediate wall. he doesn’t know why, but he stops mid breath with his lips hovering aimlessly around her neck and her frame tight against his. he’s so sorry. so so sorry he doesn’t complain about her bruising his pride and calling him a coward. he so desperately wants to not be a coward. he can’t even look at her in the eye. this tantalizing position he didn’t choose, but rather his new body craved, felt safer than facing her. no lamp or candle to light their way and yet he can see every painfully carved vein descending from her chin.
he wants to cry. he also wants to sample every inch of skin he can’t see. this is worse than the mere crush boyish crush he fancied sporting on her. he stopped thinking about it and just focused on the scent of her perfume. it was less troubling than the delight of her blood. it makes him nostalgic. he would like to be sobbing in her skirt. ‘ i am a coward. go, sweet bird. please. you don´t want to be here. ’
What could he do? Where could he turn, twice robbed of his wife? With what tears could he move the spirits, with what voice move their powers? Cold now, she floated in the Stygian boat. They say he wept for seven whole months 📷: @callmelasagna
hi if anyone’s seeing this PLEASE stop reposting to other websites including twitter . Stop
have to tell you on this blog too, te quiero
mi amorsoteeeee ): te adoro demasiadoooooooooooooooooo, tell me everywhere i need itttttt
hey, anyone ever tell you that you’re so talented and fantastic, it’s insane??
you are !! actually, i think you are looking in a mirror. i'm not looking in a mirror because vampires don't have a reflection xx
ᝰ🚬 𝚉𝙰𝙲𝙷𝚁𝙿 .ᐟ (REQUESTED) RANDOM VAMPIRE-THEMED DIALOGUE + ACTION PROMPTS. CHANGE ANY PRONOUNS IF NECESSARY. SOME MATURE THEMES MAY BE PRESENT.
DIALOGUE
blood tastes different under moonlight.
i don't need permission from the dark.
that scar wasn't from feeding.
you hear footsteps. i hear veins.
you should stop trusting monsters.
i prefer alleys. less witnesses.
i hate how much i want you.
this is the part where you're supposed to be afraid.
i don't need your blood. i want it.
i don't turn people lightly.
i don't chase unless i mean to kill.
you smell different when you're afraid.
i never feed where i live.
nightfall is my beginning.
you're not afraid enough.
hunger doesn't make me cruel. it makes me honest.
i hunt by instinct, not thought.
i can't remember the last time i watched the sun rise.
you won't survive loving me.
stay still. i'm trying to be gentle.
you're warm. god, you're warm.
i won't feed unless you ask me to.
i haven't tasted fresh blood since yesterday.
i could hear your heart from across the room.
the night forgives nothing, it only hides it.
the night remembers what the sun forgets.
you'd make a terrible vampire.
you're not prey if i choose you.
i can hear your pulse speeding up.
i hear you even when you're quiet.
that's not hunger you're feeling.
you glow when you're alive.
i fed poorly tonight. i'm still starving.
the night belongs to us.
don't move. you'll only make it worse.
you don't know what you're offering.
you taste like you want to be kept.
don't bare your throat at me like that.
i don't hunt children. i don't hunt lovers.
prey always thinks it has time.
the city exhales at night.
running only makes the blood warmer.
i feed quickly. mercy is efficiency.
i could make this hurt. i won't.
i don't sleep anymore. i wait.
i mark my territory in subtler ways.
i fed already. this is something else.
don't ask me to choose between you and hunger.
you bleed so easily.
you should be running.
cities sound different after midnight.
you're safe. for now.
you won't look at me the same after this.
i only hunt when the moon is high.
the dark knows me.
night hides sins better than daylight ever could.
i hunt better when i'm hungry.
i don't need blood often. i need it precisely.
blood is louder than screams.
don't look back. it excites me.
hunger sharpens everything.
i can taste fear in the air.
you don't survive centuries without learning restraint.
i don't hunt every night. that's how monsters are made.
i can smell you before i see you.
i could drain you. i won't.
you feel different when you're asleep.
i've killed for less than this.
every heartbeat is a countdown.
i don't drink from people i care about.
if i wanted you dead, you wouldn't be talking.
i hunt alone for a reason.
do you trust me, or are you just out of options?
i warned you not to fall asleep near me.
you invited me in. you knew what that meant.
don't look at my mouth like that.
i only drink enough to keep my hands steady.
i've stalked quieter cities than this.
silence makes prey careless.
i remember my first kill.
you're safer when you don't smell like adrenaline.
i can follow your pulse through walls.
i haven't fed in days. you shouldn't stand so close.
you shouldn't wander after dark.
ACTIONS
( ambush ) : for SENDER to ambush RECEIVER from the shadows.
( protect ) : for SENDER to shield RECEIVER from another vampire.
( bare ) : for SENDER to expose their throat to RECEIVER in trust.
( hunger ) : for SENDER to struggle visibly with thirst near RECEIVER.
( chase ) : for OUR MUSES to run through empty streets at night.
( breathe ) : for SENDER to steady themselves after feeding on RECEIVER.
( clean ) : for SENDER to clean blood from RECEIVER'S mouth.
( restrain ) : for SENDER to restrain RECEIVER mid-hunt.
( mark ) : for SENDER to mark up RECEIVER as theirs.
( invite ) : for SENDER to invite RECEIVER inside their secret abode.
( circle ) : for SENDER to circle RECEIVER without being seen.
( hide ) : for OUR MUSES to hide from approaching dawn.
( refuse ) : for SENDER to refuse to feed on RECEIVER.
( stalk ) : for SENDER to follow RECEIVER through the night.
( vanish ) : for SENDER to disappear before RECEIVER notices.
( bind ) : for SENDER to bind RECEIVER'S wrist for feeding.
( scent ) : for SENDER to recognize RECEIVER by scent alone.
( awaken ) : for SENDER to wake RECEIVER at nightfall, already hungry.
( flee ) : for SENDER to run after realizing what RECEIVER is.
( feed ) : for SENDER to feed carefully from RECEIVER.
( linger ) : for SENDER to linger close to RECEIVER'S pulse.
( confess ) : for SENDER to admit they've been watching RECEIVER.
( spare ) : for SENDER to spare RECEIVER'S life at the last second.
( heal ) : for SENDER to lick RECEIVER'S wound closed.
( sunrise ) : for OUR MUSES to carefully watch from the sunrise together.
( endure ) : for SENDER to endure hunger rather than kill RECEIVER.
( turn ) : for SENDER to begin the process of turning RECEIVER.
( listen ) : for OUR MUSES to listen to the city settle into night.
( hunt ) : for SENDER to hunt RECEIVER silently through empty streets.
( pin ) : for SENDER to pin RECEIVER against a wall without feeding.
( sense ) : for SENDER to sense RECEIVER hunting nearby.
( offer ) : for SENDER to offer immortality to RECEIVER.
( stalked ) : for RECEIVER to realize they are being stalked by SENDER.
( claim ) : for SENDER to mark RECEIVER as theirs.
( watch ) : for SENDER to watch RECEIVER sleep without them knowing.
BARBIE AS THE PRINCESS AND THE PAUPER PROMPTS * assorted dialogue from the 2004 film, adjust as necessary
all my life, i've always wanted to have one day just for me.
what do you think i'm running here?
keep laughing!
i've already paid off more than half!
what would it be like to be free?
oh and look! another engagement gift!
i know. it's my duty.
it is the only way to take care of our people.
you would think that i'm so lucky that i have so many things.
can i come along?
i'll never stop believing.
what idiot put this in here?
you're back... here... early.
how can i refuse?
the moment that i get back, i will show them who's the boss.
oh please. having delusions again?
[name], you are quite sure about this?
why the sudden formality? it's just me.
there's nothing like some fresh air and a change of scenery.
i wish it were that simple.
so which one was your house?
we couldn't afford a house.
mm, that smells delicious.
did you really think you could make a living as a singer?
what's your name?
aren't you supposed to be inside the castle?
i'd rather be in my library reading science books all day.
i'm just like you.
i made the one you're wearing.
i completely understand.
we could be twins!
i'll take my chances!
i haven't seen you around here before.
i don't think we run in the same circles, but... perhaps we can change that.
i'll send someone for you.
i command you to unlock this door!
i can't believe they won't let me in there.
think you could get me up to the roof?
i am simply not going to look at myself.
well, this is dreadful.
what would i do without you?
i insist we cancel the wedding.
are you out of your mind?
would you look at the size of this place!
i don't know a thing about being a princess.
there's a time and place and way for everything.
oh! you're back! where have you been?
promise me you'll never do it again.
you mean you cheated!
how did she escape?
get out of that bed!
you're supposed to have all the answers.
i beg your pardon!
not another word! you're coming with me!
how dare you speak to her that way!
now shut up and get back to work!
this is going to be a long night.
we can't give ourselves away!
look at all this food! want some?
i didn't want to marry a stranger any more than she did.
what's wrong? are you sick? something in your throat?
i love you the way you are and that will never change.
i can't let you do this all by yourself.
something tells me you have a wonderful voice.
would you do us the honor of playing the piano?
i'll stay by your side if you love me for me.
there's something about you... you're honest. no pretenses. i like that.
i think i'm falling in love with the king.
you can tell me everything on the way to the castle.
how sad they'll be when they discover you died in a tragic accident.
everything seems to be in order.
get your hands off me!
what proof do you have of this ridiculous story?
i don't believe it.
it doesn't make sense.
marry me, for how can you refuse?
i was in love with somebody else. my best friend.
i can't give you what he can.
we'll get out of here somehow, i promise.
you do love disguises, don't you?
nice to see you again.
now who has nowhere to go?
it is our duty to take care of our people first.
i hope you'll take this with you.
it was meant for you.
when you live your dream, you'll find that destiny is written in your heart.
the streets were foggy and dangerous and christine was glad to leave them at once upon reaching her destination. her feet were shaky, arms holding trenchcoat around body tight as if the fabric could protect her from the curious cutting stares of the nearby strangers. she breathed out shy thank you's and please as she went up the busy stairs of the estabilishment, wondering why had luc been here instead of the hotel, hiding in such a hole. the smell of smoking cigars and the laughter of the clients... it drove her cautious as finally, she reached the door with the number given by the clerk.
her soft, dainty hand rose twice before deciding to knock. no sound came from the inside. but she knew he was there. ‟ luc, ” she called in her voice - afraid, but anxious, eager. wanting to see him but also wondering if she'd done something wrong to make him walk away for weeks. completely gone from her daily check ins. christine's doe eyes went down to her purse. ‟ i know you're in there. y-you don't have to hide, please, i... ” did he need anything? had something happened? his sister wasn't seen in a while, too, and the rumours were...
no, christine wasn't going to believe in rumors. ‟ i just want to know if you're alright. it's been so long, and you didn't answer me. i... miss you. could you let me in? ” she sounded so stupid to her own ears, going against the door already as others passed the corridor with cheeky grins and inhuman stares. she gulped.
| | 𖦹 a starter to @bebedores .
he could smell her from a block away. not her perfume… no, he wasn’t granted that pleasure anymore. of seeing her fluttering in her dreamy songs and capturing the heart of every man only to have no respite in the dressing room with his presence, shamelessly nice and offering something warm for her throat. he hoped she didn’t mind then, that he managed to be respectful and fun with his flirting and that she took it as flattery and friendship and not anything improper. it didn’t matter now. there was a half written letter on the room’s table to her. it didn’t matter now, he could only smell her blood.
it was sweet, go figure. all blood smelled sweet to him now. but perhaps because she was familiar, it was all that enticing to him. luciano wanted to scream for her to leave, but even in his fear, he didn’t have the strength to be cruel to her. he didn’t have the strength to be cruel to anyone. maybe that was his biggest weakness, maybe that’s what drove him into this shithole to hide. like he could hide from the horrible feelings in his unbeating chest. he didn’t want to hide from her. ever an idealist he’d love to have her there, to prove himself he can be in control to this thirst and to have the reassurance the angel she was would not flinch at the sight of him. that was asking too much, and he’s never truly believed in a god to pray about it. her imminent presence made conversion an impossible task in so little time.
‘ i’m.... ’ i miss you, she says, and the guilt embraces him coldly from a cursed draft in the ceiling. ‘ i can’t… i’m sick. please… just… i’ll write to you. you shouldn’t worry. ’ he’s never been a good liar, he doubts he’d believe her performance. he has the urge to ask how she’s doing. he eats his desires and draws the cold blood from biting his cheek. ‘ besides, ’ a fake laugh, ‘ you shouldn’t be here, what would they say if they found you in a room alone with a guy like me ? ’
