#Carpe Noctem

[a-hoe-for-dark-academia]

dark academia: keeps journals, systemically organized bookshelves, mostly reads classic books and pretentious literature, neat handwritting, probably uses a fountain pen, drinks coffee, tea or wine, will quote authors or movies to asssert dominance, dresses posh even on a budget.

chaotic academia: keeps commonplace books, stacks of books everywhere, either books you probably never heard of or popular YA, bad handwritting, has a chewed off pencil or a gel pen, drinks juice or energy drinks, will paraphase authors for comedic effect, too tired to dress up, but still tries.

[witchrealms]

carpe noctem magazine, 1995-97

(x)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

I Now Declare You

Warnings: Lloyd being Lloyd and dark overtones.

Prompt: Lloyd and Mimi get married. Lloyd is mega groom-zilla. 

Character: Lloyd Hansen (from Carpe Noctem)

As usual, I appreciate any and all feedback and enthusiasm. Please reblog and leave a comment. Love! 😍

The day has come. Most women would be excited. You’re getting married, but just like everything with Lloyd, there’s a caveat. This isn’t exactly your choice. None of it is. 

The dress is pretty but the amount of cleavage isn’t entirely you. No, that’s Lloyd. Or the flowers. Elegant but you prefer simple. The ring, overzealous is as nice as you can describe it. At least it’s a small affair. A courthouse wedding but you’re still surrounded by strangers. Lloyd’s guests, not yours. 

You stand across from him as the officiant goes through his script. You can tell by the twitch in Lloyd’s mustache and the grip on your hands that he’s irritated. It isn’t his perfect dream wedding. Or yours. Or maybe he’s impatient. He said he was more concerned with the wedding night than the day... 

Typical. 

The recital of the binding words fade into a drone. You can trace through all the events that led to this but you still wonder how you ended up here. Of all people, you’re bound to this man. Well, he can act like a child sometimes and you have quite a bit of training in minding toddlers. 

The tick in his cheek deepens as the officiant declares that long-awaited act. The first kiss as husband and wife. You’re still reeling from the vows. Is this real? Are you really legally bound to this man? It’s not much of a change since you’ve been chained to him in all but law. 

He draws you in and you gasp into his mouth as he smothers you without shame. You press your hands to his lapels as he traps you in a bearish embrace. He consumes you with the hunger of a man who swore himself to celibacy since the day he proposed. His self-imposed restraint hardly made him any less needy. 

He parts, his nose tickling yours, and whispers, “I’m about to destroy you wifey.” 

Your lashes flick at the intensity in his tone. You can never really describe him as anything but intense. Even so, he catches you off guard now and again. 

You rocks you and gives a wink as he reluctantly pulls away. The small courthouse room is full but there’s not too many people. Those same friends from the night you met in the private room at the club, an assortment of women on their arms, though none of them seem very happy to be there. 

“Okay, shit stains, let’s get the photos quick,” he declares. “I got some prima nocta waiting for me.” 

The antiquated and rather off-putting reference makes you wince. It’s embarrassing how he just says whatever he wants; he doesn’t even care about the officiant waiting patiently with pen in hand. She clears her throat. 

“You need to sign. Your witnesses too.” 

“Ah, fuck, yeah,” he drags you by your hand to the table against the wall. “Where the fuck?” 

“Lloyd,” you nudge him gently and smile at her, “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologise for me,” he takes the pen and wiggles it impatiently. 

“Fair, you should apologise for yourself,” you retort. 

He frowns and gives you the side eye. The officiant taps the papers. “Here and here,” she points to each. 

He scribbles quickly and flips the pen in your direction. You pluck it from him and move closer. You sign then hand off to the first witness. Nick? You think his name is. 

The officiant hands you the certificate and Lloyd just as quickly snatches it. She leaves you to the room until the end of the hour. Lloyd sucks his teeth and shoves the certificate at Andy’s date. “Hold onto this.” 

He turns and before you can react, he scoops you up. You squeal and he turns to face the chairs. “Alright, snap away.” 

The photographer moves from the corner of the room. Lloyd smushes his lips to your cheek as he cradles you in his arms, your skirts clouding out around you. The shutter clicks endlessly and you wriggle in his grasp. You’re precarious in his hold but no matter how many times you tell him not to pick you up, he insists. 

“Fuck, mimi, I’m gonna tear this thing off you.” 

He squeezes your leg before he sets you on your feet. You’re dizzy from the suddenness of it all. He grabs your hands and turns you then gets to his knees. He brings your hands to frame his throat and he snickers. 

“Get a few just like this,” he says to the photographer. The guests chuckle at the ridiculous tableau. 

“Lloyd,” you rebuke. 

“Oh, don’t be shy, mimi. You know you’ll be doing lots of this tonight,” he chortles so the whole room can hear. “And I’ll be doing a whole lotta begging.” 

[drivewaycore]

[beezlebuth]

my current and updated collection of jhonen vasquez comics and memorabilia!

-jthm the directors cut 24th printing (may 2007)

-jthm issue #1 ~a general sense of contempt~ 14th printing (march 2002)

-jthm issue #2 ~human relations~ 10th printing (february 2002)

-jthm issue #3 ~a transient smile~ 8th printing (february 2002)

-jthm issue #4 ~another tiresome descent~ 9th printing (december 2001)

-jthm issue #7 ~in control of a broken machine~ 9th printing (may 2002)

-squee! issue #1 ~when i was little~ 1st printing (april 1997)

-squee! issue #2 ~remember~ 1st printing (september 1997)

-squee! issue #3 ~villains~ 1st printing (november 1997)

-squee! issue #4 ~the super amazing final issue~ 1st printing (may 1998)

-original squee! shirt from the back of the book catalogs

-i feel sick issue #1 ?th printing (november 2011)

-i feel sick issue #2 ?th printing (??? 2011)

-filler bunny #1 january 2000

-filler bunny #2 february 2001

-filler bunny #3 2005???

-jthm snippet from 1997 1st issue of carpe noctem

-jthm cosplay that i made myself :)

-anne gwish tshirt that i made because i only ever found ONE listing for the original and it was bought already :,,(

all of my individual issues of johnny the homicidal maniac came organically to me as i work at a comic book shop and people have sold collections to the owner and he gave me the issues for free!! (he used them temporarily as fly swatters because anything that isnt first printing is worthless)

i also have a small collection of lenore the cute little dead girl if any one is interested. my love for jthm was blossomed from the love i had of lenore when i was young. i grew up with my dad at the comic book store he worked at (the same one i work at now!) and he would buy me the individual issues and hardcover lenore books as they came out. i had to have been 6 or 7 which i probably shouldnt have been reading bloody comics full of profanity but FUCK IT! they changed my life and the more i learned about roman dirge, the more i learned about jhonen vasquez with jthm and aaron alexovich with serenity rose (honorable mention jim mahfood). they inspired me to create my own comic that has helped me to cope with a lot of emotions and personal trauma over this past couple years.

[mourntomidnight]

Gothic Photo Dump

[ajramseyart]

The Hunt

I just noticed that I never shared this painting on here. Oops.

This is a painting I created for the Carpe Noctem vampire zine.

I have been thinking about this painting for a little bit and how I think I might make a little comic story about this painting. I already made a mini comic about this vampires origin, but this is something I would love to expand on here and there when I have down time.

created with watercolor and white gouache.

[comatosebunny09]

[farfromstrange]

Carpe Noctem [PREVIEW]

Main Masterlist

PREVIEW.

Pairing: Vampire!Matt Murdock x F!Nun!Reader

Warnings: (additional tags to be added/changed) Dead Dove Do Not Eat, religious imagery & symbolism, vampirism, Dark!Matt, blood consumption, corruption kink, SMUT (18+), pain kink, blood play, ANGST, canon typical violence, physical assault, allusions to sexual assault, hunter and prey vibes, allusions to stalking (possibly full-on), scent kink, marking, blasphemy, no happy ending

Summary: Over the past centuries, nothing could have stopped Matt Murdock from wanting, craving, everything, even what he could not have; money, power, and sex, among other more materialistic things, but nothing has him in quite a chokehold like the insatiable hunger for blood he was cursed with the night he died. Nothing could have stopped him from getting what he wants until one day in March, you enter his life.

Matt has stolen, beaten and killed without care, but corrupting a child of God is a line he dares not cross. You, a nun. It’s unthinkable. The part of him that longs for the life he was torn out of—the boy still riding the waves of Catholicism, that Matt Murdock—would rather see him impaled on a wooden stake than allow him to take your blood. Your blood, your innocence, and all that you are; the aroma of rosemary and sanctity that surrounds you is a siren’s call that draws him inevitably closer. The same walls of Clinton Church that house you would incinerate him, and he still wants you. He wants you, but he can’t have you.

Devoting yourself to the church saved you from the abyss, but it may also lead to your eternal corruption at the hands of the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. Matt Murdock. A vampire. Soon, you find yourself not only on the verge of losing your innocence to this angel of the night but your life, too, and your world drastically changes for what you realize might be worse than death itself.

(18+ MINORS DNI!)

A/n: I’m back, back, BACK again! Vampire!Matt brainrot is real, and this idea was so dark in my head and kind of ironic, really, I had to put it out there for you. I will be doing my research on Catholicism religiously (pun intended) to make this as accurate as possible, but it’s still an alternate universe and I like making up my own rules. Everything I write is my personal playground, and I invite you to join me for this steamy piece of angst. So far, this is only a concept, but I will get to writing it as soon as I can! The idea is there, and I’ve got some things planned out already. So, if you’re curious, do stick around!

AESTHETIC.

Matt.

You.

RELEASE DATE: TBD!

(If you want to be tagged to know when I release it, as always, feel free to let me know. I don’t bite. Well, only sometimes.)

[hofudlaus]

I'm super late but here my piece for the Carpe Noctem,a Vampires Through the Ages Zine! It was such a fun project and the final result is absolutely stunning! There's still a little time to get one! For those who are interested you can find the zine Here!

[thisismylastgoodbye]

CARPE NOCTEM BY EVAREINADEESCOCIA IS BACK.

YOU CAN'T UNDERSTAND JUST HOW HAPPY I AM 😭😭

[allaboutlov3]

I was kinda sure that I would like Jegulus before reading it. I just didn’t realize how much. I never could have known I guess. But it literally changed something within me.

[witchrealms]

carpe noctem magazine, 1995-97

(x)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

In Aeternum

Warnings: non/dubcon and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: your life with Lloyd is a lot of work. Or rather, he is.

This is one of my birthday drabbles. Thanks again for your input :) Enjoy.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

A birthday drabble for Carpe Noctem 

You stare at the small screen of the smart device. The smell of cinnamon fills the kitchen as you stand in wait of the baking desserts. You lean in to get a better view of the news segment. Your ears tweak at the reporter’s words. 

‘The sole survivor remains in the ICU with severe burns but healthcare personnel see a full recovery. As for those who passed, the survivor’s parents, they have been interred in the local cemetery and the service brought out hundred.’ 

They show images of the funeral; flowers, solemn faces, the front of a church.  

“Why are you watching that shit?” Lloyd, as always, knows when to barge in. 

“Alexa, stop playing,” you command the device and the screen returns to rest, showing the time and weather. “Just the news.” 

“I told you not to worry about that idiot.” He grunts as you face him. He tries to cross his arms then puts them straight, shaking out his left. He’s slick with sweat and his workout gear clings to his muscles. “I fucked up. Thought I killed him but the damn cockroach managed to drag himself out. What a pussy. Can’t even save his own parents.” 

“Lloyd. You--” 

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, mimi, your soft heart.” He leers at you and winks. “Softer body.” He sticks his tongue out and wince. He bends his elbow and rubs it. 

“What wrong with your arm?” You sigh. 

“Nothing. Old college injury. You know I was varsity, right? Coulda gone national but I made more money... doing something else.” 

“Right,” you sniff and go to the oven. You peer through the lit window at the spiral cookies. 

“What’s the point of me putting in all this work in the gym when you’re just fattening me up?” He scoffs. 

“You don’t have to eat the cookies.” You glance at the time on the small screen above the stove. 

“I have a nose and a stomach. I can’t resist.” He shuffles around the kitchen and surprises you as he comes up behind you. “Just like I can’t resist you.” 

“The cookies are for the shelter.” You stiffen as he wraps his arms around you and pulls your ass against him. “I told you several times not to touch.” 

“Mimi, you’re spending all my money.” 

You huff and look around at the spacious kitchen; stacked ovens, a hug marble island, a fridge with a glass door, a whole other fridge for just wine, and every single appliance you might need but have yet to use. You grab his wrists as he squeezes your hips. 

“I think you have more than enough. What else am I supposed to do?” 

“Have some wine, put on a thong, hop on my dick,” he purrs and rocks you with him, locking his hold on you. “You got your choice. The hot tub, the pool, sauna, hell, sit out in the sun and read one of your Austen joints. Want me to dress up like Darcy? Bit of role play?” 

“Stop,” you push on his arms and writhe. 

“What’s a matter, mimi? You weren’t so shy last night. Or yesterday afternoon. Or after lunch. Or in the morning.” 

You sneer and tear his hands away from your hips. You turn to him and poke his shoulder. He groans and rubs it. 

“Ow, you know that’s still healing.” 

“I told you to go to a real doctor,” you snip. 

“Mimi, they don’t touch me like you do.” He furls his fingers and his throat bobs. He runs his thumbs along his shorts and tugs. “Damn, just the thought—how about a cool down? I just chugged a protein shake, I gotta get it out.” 

“No.” 

“No?” He tilts his head. “Mommy, please.” 

“No, especially if you’re going to pull that.”  

You spin as the timer dings and you grab the oven mitts. You shut off the buzzer and take out the cookies. You put the pan on the counter to cool and hang the mitts again. 

“Mimi...” Lloyd drawls out as he closes in. 

You evade him. Keeping a step ahead as you scurry along the island. He pursues and you turn to face him as you round the corner. 

“I said no. I’m not in the mood.” 

“Why? Because that limp dick is in the hospital--” 

“Stop.” You whine and backpedal away from him as his advance continues. “Lloyd, I’m telling you to stop. I have to make a trip downtown to deliver the cookies--” 

“Really? You do? Because you don’t leave without me. Remember? Those are the rules.” He gets closer and closer.  

You peer around as you feel blindly and walk back on your heels. You pass through the doorway into the front room. You barely dodge the sofa and the little round table next to it. 

“Lloyd.” 

“Mimi.” 

“Leave me alone. I’m telling you.” 

“Keep telling me. It's making me hard.” He snickers. 

You veer through the next doorway and stumble as he lunges. He pulls back and laughs again. He’s taunting you. 

“Oh, I like this game, Mimi.” 

“I’m not playing,” you reach to grab the banister as you step towards the stairs. 

He takes a deep breath and stops. “Neither am I.” 

His smirk sends a chill through you. You freeze at the bottom step and gulp. You look up then back at him. In an instant, you’re barreling up, desperate to get to the top. As your feet slap on the stairs, his treads trail you up calmly. 

Shit. This is the last thing you need. No matter what or when, you always manage to provoke him. Every breath, every blink, every word only entices him. It’s tiring. Without a job, without your friends, it feels like your nothing more than toy. Any search for a different purpose just amuses him. 

You race down the hall. You have to make a quick decision. You burst into the bathroom and spin to swing the door shut. It bounces back as Lloyd shoves his sneaker between it and the frame. He shoves in after you with a taunting grin. 

You stagger back and search for any form of defence. You know it’s pointless. There’s no escape, no fight to be had, but you just want him to let you think for two minutes without mentioning his dick. You grab the bottle of hair spray and aim it at him. You push down and he coughs, waving his hand through the cloud of stickiness. 

He swats the aerosol from your hand and grabs your other arm. You whimper as he wrenches you toward him. He turns and pens you in against the floating counter. He tuts down at you as you push on his stomach. 

“Oh, mimi,” his eyes flick above you. “That’s a great fucking idea.” He grips your shoulder and twists you around to face the counter. “I’d love to watch.” 

He keeps you trapped as you slap a hand on the marble and try to shove him away with the other. He stretches the elastic of his shorts and they fall to his feet. You wriggle as he wraps his arm around you and leans you against the counter. 

His other hand snakes under your skirt. One of the many pieces stocked in your closet. None of them fit right. They all flutter a bit too high on your thigh. 

“Lloyd,” you beg. “Later. Not—now.” 

“Too fucking late. My dick hurts.” 

“Stop!” You throw and elbow back into his ribs. He grunts and nuzzles your hair. 

“Don’t mess around.” He warns. 

He kicks your feet apart and peels your panties down your thighs. The strip of lace strains around your legs. He bends you further as he feels around. He brings his tip down to your cunt and prods you, tapping, and rubbing. 

“Mm, I feel you shaking for me, Mommy.” 

“Please--” you gasp. 

“You don’t gotta beg,” he boats. 

“Urgh, get—off!” You bend your arm awkwardly and once more poke at his shoulder. He exclaims but persists.  

He lines up as he bares his teeth, hooking his jaw over your shoulder. The anger pulses in his forehead as he glares at your reflection. He snaps his hips and impales you with a growl. You cry out and brace the counter as your legs buckle. 

“Ow!” You plead with him in the mirror. Eyes misty, eyes pouting. 

His lips curve deeper as he thrusts, jerking your hip bones into the marble. His hand crawls up to your chest and he squeezes your chest with a snarl. He tilts his head and sinks his teeth into your shoulder. He ruts as his eyes blaze back at you from the glass. 

His hand snakes down your stomach and delves beneath your skirt. You hide beneath your eyelids as he finds your clit. He flicks over your hood and you spasm. You mewl as he does it again and again. Worse than his strength is his talent at toying with you. Even as you resist, he finds your weak spot and needles away at it. 

“Mmm,” he purrs as he unlatches his teeth and kisses up your neck. 

His mustache tickles as he pounds against your ass, fingers sliding around your slickness, breath fogging around your chest. Your thighs quiver and your feet arch. You bend forward a little more and he hits just the right spot. 

You cum in a ripple of pathetic moans. You’re breathless and weak. You slump onto your elbow and he growls as you open to him completely.  

He frames your hips and pumps into you until his motion turns erratic. He groans and grunts, digging his nails through the fabric as he pulls out. He cums down your thigh as you hang off the counter.

He lets out a gurgle and snaps his knuckles against your ass. He moves rigidly as he turns and leans his bare ass on the marble beside you. He rubs your back as you gulp and catch your breath.

You stand up but he stops you from grabbing a tissue to wipe up. He’s shameless as his shorts still cling around one ankle. 

“Hey, baby cakes, get my shorts for me? Think I pulled something.” 

You scowl at him as he emphatically clutches his side. You sniff and wave him off. You grab a washcloth and wet it under the faucet. You wipe yourself off and toss the balled fabric into the sink. 

“Pull your own shorts up,” you sneer. 

“I mean it, Mimi, my back’s all sorts of locked up. You got me all bound up.” He gives a pathetic whimper. “Please, take care of me like you always do.” 

You shake your head and squat down to grab the shimmering puddle of shorts. This is ridiculous. He lifts his feet to hook it through and as you tug them up his legs, an odd weight hangs in the flimsy fabric. His dick twitches just as you cover it up and let the elastic snap him meanly. 

“You feel that, Mimi,” he catches your hand and pulls it back to him. You try to shake him off but can’t. “Am I happy to see you or is that a ring in my pocket?” He brushes your palm over his dick and to his pocket. The shape you felt is sharper than you expect. You look up at him in confusion. 

“You didn’t even give me a chance to get on one knee.” 

He guides your hand to the top of his pocket and lets go. Your heart thumps as you reach inside and pull out the heart-shaped box. The lid opens like wings from the middle. You reveal the sapphire trimmed diamond inside. Each stone bigger than the next. 

You gape at the sparkling cluster. Lloyd chuckles and strokes your cheek. He cups your chin and raises it. As you look at him, he smirks again. 

“You take care of me, I take care of you,” he traces his thumb along your lip. “Speaking of, I’m fucking serious about my back. Can I get some help?” 

[drivewaycore]

[grrrenadine]

I can finally post my piece for Carpe Noctem @carpenoctemzine  — a non-fandom zine about vampires through the ages!

Anyway, I illustrated a story about some LGBTQ punks in 1970s USA :)