#aestheti%

[lovesdaya]

@lovesdaya

[taintandviolent]

sin creeps in ; Nosferatu x Reader

summary: You're plagued by heinous nightmares of a mysterious monster, but you can't help but feel drawn to he who plagues you.

word count & w a r n i n g s: 1.5K | female reader, monster fucking, vampires, vampire sex, bloodplay, biting, drinking blood / blood loss, mentions of death, making out, smut, unprotected sex, mentions of accents, shadow play (fingering)????.

a/n: MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR NOSFERATU 2024! this is just.... listen, I'm not even going to try to justisfy myself. rack up yet another hear me out moment for me. you either understand or you don't. shorter than I wanted it to be, but I needed to get this out and sate my hunger. banner by @/strangergraphics!

↓ full fic under cut! ↓ / playlist here / ao3 link here! / I don’t have a taglist anymore, but please turn on post notifications if you’d like to be notified of future fics!

You awake with a strangled gasp, your hands flying to your throat as your breath gradually returns. The nightmares had roused you, as they had every night, but this time, something lingered. Your room was frigid; the gauzy curtains fluttered in front of the open window like misplaced ghosts, allowing the chill of the night to penetrate your quarters. Everything looks terrifying at night; familiar shapes are transformed into horrible spectres, and your very room feels unknown. Unsafe. 

He is here. For the first time in several nights, you weren’t dreaming – he has come for you.

“I know that you are here with me,” you bravely whisper into the emptiness of your own bedroom. The wind whistled, a familiar sound, but something growled – growled in a language you didn’t speak, but understood. The voice was low, gravelly, and heavily accented. 

Hurriedly, you kick the sheets from your legs. The moonlight pales your skin, washing you in its blanch, bluish tone. Gripping your gown with both hands, you gather it up your thighs, exposing them to the cold. The chill of the wind hits your center, and you hiss through your teeth. Your head drops to your chest, and so does your gaze, watching patiently. At the edge of your bed, a large, slender shadow manifests. Him. 

You dare not look up. The feeling of his presence petrifies you, but also arouses you – letting a slick warmth pool deeply between your legs. 

The shadows continue to creep further up your bed, until they reach your feet, which twitch in response. Up, up, up… along your shins. Your skin prickles, and you shiver, doing your best to remain calm. Though he doesn’t touch you, you feel him. You feel every pass of his large hand as it makes its way up your body. His shadow glides over your hip, to your stomach and finally between your plump breasts, coming to a stop over your beating heart. It thumps away like a rabbit’s heart underneath the blackness of his form, and you hear a ragged, strained groan.

Then, with no warning, it moves down, leaving a cold, lifeless chill in its path like a gust of winter wind. You pant, desperately clinging to what breath you have. All at once, the shadow envelopes the soft, warm mound between your legs and your hands fall to the bed, bracing yourself. You have felt his ghostly touches for countless nights, tasting your body as a lover would, but each time your body climbed the peak, the sensations disappeared.  He comes to you in dreams, always leaving you unsatisfied. Your chest heaves in the night, cold droplets of sweat peppering your decollete and breasts. Your hands claw the sheets while you dream, but never reach euphoria.

Tonight, there are new sensations. The phantom wisp of his middle finger runs along the length of your slit. Grazing it. Somehow, you feel his finger part your wet folds, toying with your most sensitive areas. The nonexistent pads of his fingers sweep back and forth over your swelling clit, bringing a spasmodic twitch from each of your muscles. Wanting. Craving. While the sensation lacks the familiar warmth of a living man, it is bountiful with pleasurable feelings – your body responds embarrassingly; your shoulders shudder violently. 

He inhales, a deeply hollow sound. “You desire this… thine own body craves it….” 

The accent seems to fill his entire mouth, rumbling in his throat as he speaks slowly, drawing out each word like an incantation. You let out a plaintive moan, throwing your head back against the pillows, the down feathers crackling underneath you. As though he’s still pleasuring you, your hips writhe back and forth, practically convulsing with need. The shadow of his hand is gone from your body, replaced by the looming darkness of his physical form. After a moment of trepidation, you finally lift your head, and stare into the dark, terrifying eyes that watch you. 

You swallow hard. “I do.” 

A moment passes before you continue. “Take me as you will, for I am yours.” You consent again, desperate to convey your own insatiable hunger, your unimaginable need. 

Another intake of breath from him – it almost sounds labored, painful. His footsteps are dreadful as he moves around to the side of your bed. He’s tall, his form stretching towards the ceilings and towering over you, consuming your atmosphere as he had in your nightmares. His silhouette is large; enhanced by the countless furs he has on.

Weightlessly, his lithe, ghastly fingers reach for you and make contact with your form. They are cold, and the icy feeling of them penetrate the thin fabric of your nightgown. He moves gradually, but hungrily, feeling the curves of your body beneath the cotton. As he moves southward, his fingers skim over the peak of your breast, a nail catching on the swollen nipple. It hurts, but your chest jerks forward still, craving more of his touch. 

Pulling a breathy moan from deep within your throat, his long, sharp nails rake across the tender flesh of your thigh. It’s bathed in the silvery moonlight, which casts horrible, elongated shadows of his fingers down towards your center. He scrapes downward, his middle finger digging into the flesh enough to leave a reddened streak behind, but not so much to break the skin.

“P-please…” you mewl, looking up into his horrifying visage. The sight of him fills you with dread and disgust, but like a single drop of blood in water, it’s tainted with something else, something else that has been lingering in your system for days. 

He’s above you now, though you don’t remember seeing him move atop of you. Still, he’s there. The bed creaks as you push yourself into the mattress, whimpering underneath him. He lowers himself down onto you, the brush of his mustache tickles your face as he lingers above you. A second passes and his waiting mouth envelops yours. He tastes damp and cold, faintly of ash and earth. His tongue slips out and it too is cold, slipping wetly along your own and along your bottom lip. His kiss is dreadful, but possessive, and he inhales each time you exhale, as though he’s trying to suck the very warmth out of you. No man has kissed you the way Count Orlok kisses you, and the chill of the room disappears, snuffed out by the fire that rages in your lower abdomen. 

Your tongues collide with each other; you tasting his lifelessness, and him tasting your utterly intoxicating, vibrant liveliness. For a moment, the two of you stay intertwined at the mouth until he separates himself, smearing his mouth over the warmth of your neck. He hovers, pausing over your pulse. It thrums under his lips, and his hips urge into yours, indicating his hunger.

There is a shuffle, a rustling of clothing. You try to lift your head up to gaze between your bodies, but his hand holds you fast, pressing you against the pillow. The size of his hand is staggering; his palm underneath your chin, while the fingertips extend past your hairline, into the strands. You shudder again and whisper his name. He inhales as though he plans to speak, but doesn’t. 

The front of your nightgown falls apart, revealing your chest to him. With one hand covetously clutching your breast, his mouth opens between your breasts, the slithery coolness of his tongue gliding down along the length of your sternum. As the teeth puncture your flesh, your hands make fists on either side of your body, pulling the sheets into the confines of your palms. He enters you, in more ways than one, and you feel the steady tug of his mouth as he sucks the blood from your veins. Warmth pools in the cave of your stomach.

The fingers of his other hand crawl up your shoulder, and like a quill in ink, he dips the pads of his fingers into the hollow of your chest, coating them in your crimson essence. He smears the blood along your decollete, along the hem of your nightgown, tugging it harshly over your shoulder. The blood coats you in a flash of warmth, and then chill as it meets the cold air. 

His hips rut against yours as he drinks, the pulse of your blood matching the thrust of his hips. An ache starts in your neck, a slow pulling sensation that has your eyelids fluttering. He moves within you, his length penetrating as deeply as his sharpened teeth have. Your release is found amongst blood and groans and that same language which you understand, but do not speak. His tongue scrubs at your soft skin, lapping up the blood as it comes… as you do. 

The darkness is ever-looming, and as your aching cunt ebbs its throbbing, it settles down upon you. You let yourself fall backwards into the abyss, freely. It takes you, wrapping its arms around your tiny frame which is dwarfed by his stature. His mouth breaks free of your bloodied skin with a slick pop.  Into the softness of your skin, you hear him growl, ‘Mine.’ The feeling vibrates against your neck, and your lids flutter shut.

[broadway-equius]

@broadway-nepeta

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[broadway-equius]

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D --> I am Equius Zahhak

D --> Firstly, time flu%uates hither and tither, I am an adult

D --> Secondly, I am merely one of many of my kind. I just happen to be an Equius who sings

D --> Tags:

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D --> Songs thus far:

An accidental release

Regina Spektor - Blue Lips

Pepper Coyote - No Cock Like Horse Cock (request)

Corpse - E-Girls Are Ruining my Life, ft Gamzee

Something Stupid, ft Nepeta

Type O Negative - Love You Too Death

Kerli & Tokio Hotel - Strange ft Nepeta((me)) (request)

Aradia, Snowblood - Crazy Fuckin Robot Body

Gamzee, Can't wait to be GHB ((I was Darkleer here))

Slipknot - Duality, ft Sollux

Korn - Freak on a leash ft Aradia (request)

Devin Townsend - Secret Sciences ft Sollux

Disturbed - Sound of Silence (Darkleer&Signless)

Björk - Play Dead ft Nepeta

Darling Violetta - Smaller God ft Kanaya

Thank You Scientist - Mr. Invisible ft Aradia (request)

Lady Gaga - Bang Bang (request, cover)

I'll make a Machine out of you (request)

RichaadEB - Heiress of Grief

Mother Mother - Let's Fall in Love ft Sollux

Mother Mother - Alone and Sublime ft Sollux

Kanaya, Rob Zombie - Teenage Nosfratu

Gamzee, Break My Mind

Ken Ashcorp - I'm your Slave (cover)

Dave, Orville Peck - Blackened Eye

Disturbed - Inside the Fire

Waterparks - Dream Boy

Aradia, Jack's Mannequin - Dark Blue

SBURBan Juxtaposition - group

Shakira - Whenever, Wherever ft nepeta

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Heir(ess) of Grief [DEMO]

Type O Negative - Black No. 1

Korn - Make Me Bad

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[lecialucille]

[crxmes]

@crxmes

[broadway-equius]

@broadway-sollux

Two of Disks. Art by Kelly Burton, from the Journey of The Sacred Bee Tarot.

[starry-bi-sky]

in 1 side we have Massive Angst of Talia and Bruce

on other side we have Okay normal life Clone Talia, Himbo Danny and Damian. Wait that is just Spy x family but Clone x Family.

No kidding. I can't say much for the angst between Talia and Bruce because I don't know their dynamic that well beyond that in one run they were supposedly in love with one another (and still are to some extent) but they're on such ideological opposites that it's never gonna work in the long term. And in another run Talia is just seducing Bruce (which iirc came about from post 9/11 hatred towards the middle east, and resulted in Talia's character being butchered by some asshole).

BUt on the other end we have Nasra, Danny, and Damian. Who I don't think ever really take on a traditional nuclear 'familial' dynamic since Danny and Damian agreed to both be brothers first and foremost - they're not seeking out a father-son relationship with each other, even with Danny occasionally being parental from time to time. And Nasra and Damian would still have an almost sibling-like rivalry towards each other as well (honestly I think it'd be very Tim and Damian-like), I think. That with a mix of "rivalry between little sibling and their older sibling's partner" too. Either way its def not mother-son like in the slightest, but still familial. Even if unorthodox

But either way they are still family with the additions of Sam and Tucker and Jazz! I like to imagine that Nasra and Damian both are actually pretty into art. Damian uses spray paints as his medium, however, and Nasra gets into charcoals and watercolors, and they compare different art mediums when they start tentatively getting along.

OH also unrelated but more on clone^2 but - danny in clone^2 like, killed like three guys when he was 17 because they attacked him and damian and nearly killed them both. Imagine being Bruce and finding that out

[inthelandofv]

you are my first thought and last everyday before I die temporarily

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[1lifeinspired]

Room For Tuesday -

[aeolianblues]

“The masterplan was, there was no masterplan. Except to write good songs. Oh yeah, and to be the biggest band in the world. A modest ambition, but it put Oasis on the road to greatness.”

OASIS - THE MASTERPLAN (1998)

Plus some more pics of Oasis albums we have at our stations, sent to us promotionally by Sony Canada on behalf of Creation Records.

Liner notes below the cut:

The masterplan was, there was no masterplan. Except to write good songs. Oh yeah, and to be the biggest band in the world. A modest ambition, but it put Oasis on the road to greatness. "Me mam always used to say, God loves a tryer," Noel Gallagher says. "And I went, 'Why? Has he got a car?' She went, 'No, a tryer-Not a tyre." So the Gallagher boys did try, and if you want proof of how hard they tried then hear these tracks - B-sides, all of them, made by a band who believe a B-side is no excuse not to care. Outside of Britain it hasn't always been easy to hear Oasis B-sides. But in Britain or anywhere else, they sound majestic played back-to-back.

We open heroically with ACQUIESCE which is one of those all-time "shoulda been an A-side" numbers. (Creation Records certainly thought so, and who could blame them?) The song is about friendship in the widest sense and not, as often speculated, about the Gallagher brothers themselves. Noel sings the chorus because, he claims, Liam couldn't reach the high notes. Or he was in the pub. Whatever, it was written on a slow train to Wales and made possible because Noel likes to travel with his guitar. It's no surprise that Acquiesce is present: via the Internet, Oasis fans were asked to vote on this album's choice of tracks.

But the inclusion of UNDERNEATH THE SKY might have been "influenced" by Noel, who cites this as a favourite song. Its happy-wanderer feel was inspired by a pocket-book of travellers' quotes he came across, and the jollity's enhanced by a four-handed piano part courtesy of him and Bonehead (who tackles the tinkly bits, apparently).

TALK TONIGHT is another self-selecting choice, from Noel's acoustic repertoire. Beautifully tender, its thoughtful air derives from a Texas studio session: Noel was back after his brief flounce from the band on a US tour: "Me and Liam had a disagreement, probably about what shoes he was wearing, so I'd fucked off to Las Vegas." It was an Oasis fan in San Francisco who talked him down off the ledge. The same reflective interlude gave us another song, in HALF THE WORLD AWAY (which is Paul Weller's favourite Oasis track). The pressure was already building, though, when Noel began writing (IT'S GOOD TO BE FREE, at the start of those troubled American dates. He finished it in Las Vegas: "Cocaine psychosis," reckoned producer Owen Morris, detecting a Fear And Loathing vibe in that sinister guitar feedback. Accordion expert Bonehead donates the breezy coda, which lends a misleadingly cheerful touch to what was a deeply fraught Oasis session: "Believe me, it was horribe. it wasn't funny at all." The Morse Code segment, by the way, is meaningless so far as anyone knows.

The oldest song here is GOING NOWHERE, written around 1990 before the band was signed ("It's about what we were going to do when we got a shitload of money off Creation"); it was not recorded until after the Be Here Now album, when there was a hankering for something less massive. Noel and drummer Alan White are the only Oasis members involved, with piano, brass and horn players to bring a vaguely Burt Bacharach atmosphere. Noel only wishes he knew another rhyme for "car" and

"Jaguar." Nearly as vintage in its origins, however, was HEADSHRINKER: recorded for Some Might Say in '95, it was written about three years earlier, during the band's punkier phase. It's also one of Liam's greatest vocals, partly because of the freedom from pressure that doing B-sides can offer. Although a load of drug references were binned from the lyric, a manic edge remains to this tale of an early girlfriend Liam could not shake off. It may start out like The Faces' Stay With Me, but Noel says he was thinking of The Rolling Stones at the time. And ROCKIN' CHAIR dates from Noel's days in Manchester, planning to leave his own girlfriend and dreaming of the good life down in London.

FADE AWAY first surfaced on Cigarettes & Alcohol, and was probably elbowed off Definitely Maybe in favour of Slide Away. Since then the chorus alone has guaranteed its popularity with Oasis fans: "The dreams we have as children fade away...

It's about growing up but not growing old," says Noel, echoing a John Lennon belief that you won't get anything unless you've got the vision to imagine it. It's a classic Buzzcocks trick, this, placing a wistful lyric inside the most glorious rush of punk rock energy. That said, it was a relief for Noel to do a track like THE SWAMP SONG, which required no words at all. Alongside Roll With It, The Swamp Song was a warm-up exercise for the Morning Glory sessions; it was also used to set the sound levels at Glastonbury, which is where Alan White's thunderous drumming was taped. Later on, when Paul Weller turned up for Champagne Supernova, he added The Swamp Song's harmonica and duelling guitars: "Very rock'n'roll," chortles Noel, "but we didn't manage to stand back to back once, which I was very upset about!" Its working title "The Jam" was scrapped, tragically.

Contrary to previous credits, I AM THE WALRUS was not recorded at the Glasgow Cathouse, but at a conference of Sony executives, gathered to hear Creation's new signings. Oasis used to play it at gigs in Liverpool, as an act of bravado aimed at the local bands, even The Beatles never did this one live. Technical note: any "looseness" in Noel's guitar playing here is attributed to half a bottle of Sony-financed gin. Speaking of guitars, the soaring LISTEN UP used to boast a solo much longer than the one you hear in this version; Liam had wanted it shorter, so Noel had disagreed on principle ("If you don't argue with Liam he gets upset"). Four years later, Liam has got his way. The poppy STAY YOUNG, meanwhile, was first ear-marked to be "the Digsy's Dinner" of Be Here Now, until Noel wrote Magic Pie and dumped it. Stay Young wound up on D'You Know What I Mean?, and could have been another A-side if its composer had actually liked the song. But he doesn't. (Audiences, who have more sense than songwriters, all love it.)

But we end with a track that Noel Gallagher is definitely proud of. In fact he regards THE MASTERPLAN as his finest piece of work. Even Liam now wishes he'd sung it himself. The writing came easily, inspired in equal measure by a Japanese hotel corridor and a good, relaxing smoke. "I'm the best lyricist in Oasis, is how I like to say it," Noel shrugs. "But to me this sums up your journey through life. All we know is that we don't know." Is it, we might wonder, sung to Liam? ("Please brother let it be") Again the answer is No.

"We're all brothers and sisters," says Noel. And so we are, and so are Oasis whether named

Gallagher, McGuigan, White or indeed Bonehead. They're brothers and they're tryers, all five. They try for themselves and they try for the rest of us. No wonder God loves them.

[usefulquotes7]

I can’t hate the boy I have always loved, but I can’t continue to love him the way I always have. Leigh Ann Lunsford, Brisé

[weldnas]

-

[pangeen]

" Eye of Life " //© Ilja Ivanov

Music: © Kevin Graham - Until Valhalla