#this and Nosferatu were the two best | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cherrys-muses · 5 months ago

Text

𓍯 ִֶָ FEBRUARY EIGHTH; side b — strangers - ethel cain | f. harding x r

w; r is anna’s sister — but i do not describe physical attributes, slight unrequited love (not wholly), grief, doesn’t necessarily follow ‘nosferatu’ plot — besides the funeral of anna and the children. an; first work for friedrich!!! i am ABSOLUTELY awful at writing period pieces, so please forgive me if i actually butchered this :(

mixtape here!

The tears that had fallen down your flushed cheeks almost felt frozen against your skin. The funeral was just a sickening reminder of what once was, was now gone.

Your sister had been one of your best friends in some of the darkest times of the span of your life, helping you cross paths with obstacles and holding your hand to reassure you she’d never let go.

And once you’d found out you were going to be an aunt to two beautiful girls, you were elated — buy little dresses and shoes for both.

Anna had won at life in every aspect.

Including Friedrich.

A man whom you’d spotted one morning while you’d gone for a walk. A man who’d caught your attention by how beautiful he was to you — sad blue eyes, dark hair, pale skin.

You’d never hold anger for Anna for finding someone who loved her just as much as she deserved — even if you longed for that feeling. Even if you longed for who was showing her that love.

Now grief is heavy in your chest. There’s something missing — and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think someone had stolen your heart.

The Priest’s voice slowly fades out into silence, a ringing in your ear replacing the prayer.

Please forgive me, Lord. You manage a small prayer in your mind, yet you have yet to blink away a blurry vision of the caskets being led away and towards their final resting place.

Your chin quivers slightly, eyebrows pinching together in what could only be described as anguish from anyone who looks at you. You can feel the eyes of Ellen who looks drained and tired.

You can’t manage to meet the eyes of anyone else.

Once the Priest has closed the book in his hand, your feet are quick to walk away, not wanting to be there any longer than what you had to.

A shuddering breath leaves your parted lips, a slight stumble in your steps. It seems like a never ending path towards the carriage. A gloved hand quickly reaches out towards the door, making you stop in your steps.

“I need to make sure you get home safely.”

Your eyes drift over towards Friedrich. His blue eyes pop out more from his bloodshot, teary eyes. Snow dusts the shoulders of his jacket and hat.

Shaking your head, you look away quickly. “No. I will be fine.”

“This is not a negotiation.”

Clenching your jaw, the door opens and his hand lands on your back to help you inside. Sitting down on the left side, he steps inside and sits in front of you. Once he shuts the door, the sounds of the horses trotting are muffled as the carriage begins to move.

The weight of his heavy stare remains on you the remainder of the way, the nauseous feeling almost dizzying. It makes you bite down on your tongue slightly as your eyes remain on the bare trees as you pass.

The inside of your home is warm. It was small, even if you could afford a bigger home, you had no one to share that with. A small one was just as good.

Your back straightens when the door closes and you glance over at Friedrich who looks around the home. You look away and pull at your gloves. “I am home now,” You place them on the table along with your jacket. “You can leave.”

It’s silent for a moment. Then you hear a small sigh. “Why are you trying to dismiss me? I am trying…” He trails off. You remain with your back towards him, picking at the skin around your nails. You flinch when his hand suddenly wraps around your bicep, turning you towards him.

You look mortified, he notices. At that, he frowns and tilts his head when you look away, trying to follow your line of sight. “Why are you practically avoiding me? You can’t even look at me!”

“Because looking at you makes me sick!” You finally snap, looking at him finally. Even if there was no reason to raise your voice, there also wasn’t much to push you over the edge at the moment. “I can not bear to look at you without…” You trail off, your chin quivering once again.

Your hands lift to cover your face, a sob escaping once again causing your shoulders to shake and knees to buckle.

Friedrich’s hands are quick to capture your sides, his own knees falling with you to the ground. Shaking your head, your hands push at his arms. “No. No,” Your voice cracks and wavers. “Don’t touch me. I don’t want you to touch me!”

He allows you to push at his arms, yet he never relents. Once your clawing and desperate attempts to push his arms away, your own arms fall slowly against your side, your cheek pressed against his chest as you continue to cry.

His hand lifts and holds the back of your head, a small furrow to his brows as his own eyes begin to water once again. Pushing your head back with his hand, you look up at him with a shuddering chest. His head tilts as he looks at you, eyeing the loose strands of hair that stick to your cheeks.

Lips pulled into a frown, he pushes those strands away gently. Your brows pinch together and your eyes slowly close as your head turns. His thumb presses into the corner of your mouth — a gentle, soft press.

In another timeline, this would’ve been what you wanted — the feeling of his breath against your cheek and the nudge of his nose against yours as his lips brush over your bottom lip.

Shaking your head, you turn it quickly and feel as his nose presses into your cheekbone now. “No. I can not do this to my sister,” You whisper. “I can not do it to you or myself,” Your voice quivers.

“You are only hurting, Friedrich.”

“And so are you.” He whispers. Your head turns slowly, resting your forehead against his, nudging the tip of your nose against his softly.

“I won’t do this,” You shake your head. “I…I love you. I always have. But if I allow myself what I’ve always wanted, I’m betraying Anna. I will not allow myself to give in to you.”

His chin quivers this time, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he stares at you quietly. Hand lifting slowly, you place it over his as your cheek leans into his rough palm slightly.

His lips are shaky and the small laugh he lets out is more like a puff of air. “Can I stay just this one night?” He whispers.

Staring at him quietly, your mind renders you speechless for a moment. If you say yes would you still be betraying your sister? Would that be giving in to something selfish?

Turning your head, your lips press against his palm softly before pulling away.

Anna. Forgive me.

“You can stay.”

𓍯 ִֶָ tags; @ali-r3n — @marchsfreakshow — @sstar-ggirl — @pretty-little-mind33 — @love-quinn

𓍯 ִֶָ thank you for reading! comments, reblogs, & feedback are welcome & greatly appreciated!

#aaron taylor johnson x fem!reader #aaron taylor johnson x reader #friedrich harding x fem!reader #friedrich harding x reader #friedrich harding x you

193 notes · View notes

gatorbites-imagines · 6 months ago

Note

Uhhh maybe something something with werewolf!mreader and count orlok?🥰

Count Byron Orlok x Werewolf male reader

Ficlet

I spent way too long reading about old werewolf mythos to write this. Reader’s kind of a mix of the different myths I found, and my own cooking. I took mild inspo from the Neuri people, and the myth of Lycaon, and what I could find about Mount Lykaion.

Lil bit of Thomas x reader, but its not really important.

Nosferatu 2024 spoilers ig?

For many years you have wandered and existed, whether you could claim to be alive or not was something you had dismissed many years ago. You remembered being born to a nomadic people who wandered from one place to another, passing their tales verbally and through song, never staying in one place for long. You remember the older men leaving for days at a time, only to return to your people, battered, bruised and exhausted, but the usual hunger in their eyes sated.

Memories of your first transformation were blurry at best, only weak memories of pain, blood, hunger, hopelessness. There wasn’t much need to remember your younger years, just that your father had been a beast amongst beasts, and so had you. When you came too after the first shift, you awoke naked and bloody, the camp of the people that were yours, destroyed.

Mixtures of flesh, fur and gore lay scattered, the tents and makeshift homes torn apart, from what looked like a wild animal trying to break in to devour whoever was inside. The taste of blood in your mouth and meat stuck between your teeth, was all you needed to know. You were that beast, and you had devoured them all. Man, woman, child and wolf, all torn apart by your hunger.

You remember stumbling away from what remained of your family, friends and near, naked as the day you were born. The cold feeling of falling into a stream, of all the blood washing off your body, washing away your sins. Memories of stumbling along, uncaring of your naked nature, so full of regret and horror of yourself and what you were.

Not much could be remembered from that time, only flashes of pain as you transformed once more, and devoured, be it human or animal. Everything only became clear in a mountain, where a cult worshipping wolves and those who could transform had found you. You learned that they were cursed by a god to be what they were, but you? You were born this way, gifted.

Their chants and magic taught you control of your inner beast. Where before there had been two beings inside you, wolf and man, there now was one. In the end you wandered from this group, leaving them to their whims of cannibalism and human sacrifice.

With control of your inner hunger, of your lack of humanity and beastly desires, you wandered. You slept when you needed to, and ate when you were hungry. You could even take part in humanity at times, joining celebrations, or sleeping in a real bed every now and then. Where raw flesh and blood tasted divine, their dishes and spices were enough to keep you sated for longer.

You never kept track of your age, but you watched as the old gods fell, and was replaced by another. A pantheon of gods, with so many duties and whims, replaced by one who became three, yet were still one. You watched as their influence grew, as their one god became the one most worshipped.

You watched as many were killed in cold blood for not worshipping their one god, or were tortured for going against the word of their holy book. It was during this holy period that you discovered your weakness to silver as well, but you being naturally born this way, let you survive it, unlike those cursed to be like you.

Your long wandering took you to somewhere in the Romanian mountains, where superstition and beliefs were as strong as ever, where a count ruled over the land, a count who yearned for immortality. Maybe it was the way you dressed when he saw you for the first time that caught his interest. He wore a cape of sheepskin, where yours was that of a wolf, the head thrown over your own almost like a mask or a hood.

Byron Orlok was his name. And he was handsome, as handsome as the men of this era could be, even if his eyes were dark and hungered for something beyond mortality, even as he buried himself in the occult to seek it. The tales of your own long life, what little you told him, only fueled him. If you could live from before the very creation of Christianity, then he too could become immortal. Unageing.

Your wolf form lingered around his home, a large building far beyond anything you could have ever seen in your youth. The sounds of his transformation, the reek of sulfur and acid, like the bile of a stomach, was so powerful that you felt that even the wandering natives would smell it. and yet as he screamed and wailed, you lay still, your massive wolf head resting on top of your paws. It was not your duty to save him or stop him, his demons and gods were not connected to you.

In his death, Byron Orlok did not cease moving. His corpse and body still moved and spoke during the night, before the sun rose and the first rooster’s crow. and you, you stayed. Over your many years of life you had met many beasts and monsters like yourself, or warlocks and alchemists who were bound to the otherworld, even priests and priestesses who could communicate with their gods of choice. But none intrigued you like Byron.

As something beyond human, the idea that only a man and a woman could bond was beyond you. It was a belief that had never existed in you, as the people you had been around in your youth never carried it, but for Byron it was new and strange. Even as his body changed and altered, looking more like a corpse than a man, his passion persisted.

The locals built temples or stands to keep him away, filling them with crosses and hunting others like him, Nosferatu. You, they feared, less than Byron, but feared, nonetheless. Where Byron devoured human flesh and blood to keep moving, you had persisted on nothing but will for many years, and only devoured when you needed too.

Byron was not the most physically affectionate, you had a feeling he simply couldn’t be. But his possessive nature and yearning for you, spoke of his innermost feelings. His kisses would have made any normal human vomit from the taste of blood, gore, and corpse, but you were no human. Anyone else would have died from being fed on by him, but you lived. Your heart beat and would beat on, for how long you did not know.

Your inhuman blood and flesh, which regenerated like the leaves of a tree, kept Byron fed when the human flesh could not. It wasn’t what he was meant to eat, that much was clear, as you were not human and that was what he needed, but it changed him. He still was death itself, but your wolflike insides made him at least a little more pleasant to look at.

What you two were, was not a married couple, but he was yours and you were his, though he yours more than you his. Being older, stronger, able to go where and when you pleased, made you the more dangerous of you two. The most powerful, but you had no need to use this against him.

Until he bonded with that human, one you would learn was named Ellen who begged for company from anything, anyone. You were tempted to tear Byrons head off his body when you learned of this, having only been gone for two years which was nothing in your shared centuries, and here he went, finding another.

After this betrayal, you left once more, after tearing apart the wolves you had given him as servants. He would not thrive off your gifts and flesh if he could not respect you. It was not that he had bonded with a human girl, but more the dismissal of you and disregard of what you wanted. What if you had wanted a little human plaything as well?

When you returned once more, years later, you observed a man on his way towards Byron Orloks home, which looked as decrepit as you were used too. He was almost adorable, in his modern clothing and satchel bag. So intriguing was he, that you followed him from the shadows in your wolf form, observed as he rested with the locals, saw their execution of a Nosferatu, and how the locals left him behind.

Byron must have felt your presence, as the carriage that picked the human man up had the motif of a wolf on the side. You could feel his magic reach for you, but yours was stronger, and still being mad at him, you turned it away.

Your lover, partner, other being, was enraged, you could tell, when he smelled your interest in this man, Thomas Hutter, but he could not say anything, as he was drawn to this Thomas Hutters wife. Thomas Hutter was tormented and haunted as he slept and was awake in the old castle, he almost passed out when he saw you in your wolf form for the first time.

Maybe it was more that you wanted to make Byron feel what you felt, when he bonded to that girl, and it didn’t hurt that Thomas Hutter was as adorable as a rabbit, with his frightened eyes and heady scent. The lack of sleep drove him mad enough to sleep curled up against your furry side, and your hairy chest when you transformed back into a man.

It was enough to make Byron gnash his teeth and growl, his magic attempting to squeeze the very life out of Thomas only to be blocked by your own. There was no reason for you to stop his plans, you were much too old to involve yourself in such things, but you did make sure Thomas survived long enough to be found by the nun and for him to return to Wisborg.

Your massive paws dragged groves in the first as you followed the scent of Thomas, as Byron you could sense was across the sea where you could not follow without spending unnecessary magic.

Your maw salivated at the sight of Ellen, not from the same desire that Thomas or Byron carried for her which was carnal in the way animals in spring desired, but from a long-forgotten hunger for human flesh. To rip and tear, to destroy and break. You wanted to kill her, for taking your Orlok’s attention, the same hate Byron felt for Thomas, even if your attention was nothing more than a mild interest.

Time would tell, as the first night fell and the rats invaded the city. When Byron would end up tricked by these mortals, you would step in and scold him. He was so young compared to you, centuries compared to your millennia. Punish him, you must, make him weep and beg for your forgiveness for betraying you so. But for now, you would gobble up the corpses of the citizens as they piled up, to satisfy your growing hunger for Ellen and her putrid flesh.

219 notes · View notes

littleplantfreak · 2 months ago

Text

TL;DR

Umemiya Hajime x Reader

wc: <900

Sfw

In more words than I can make a title out of, you read to your boyfriend Umemiya after he breaks his glasses.

“…Plants form flower buds only when they contain reserve food. This is true of plants grown for flowers or fruits. Rapidly growing plants, such, for example as Dahlias that have been too heavily fertilized and grown on rich soil, will produce prolific plants, stems and foliage, but few flowers…Hajime? Are you snoring?” you ask, though by now in your relationship, you can tell the slow heavy breaths that come with your boyfriend mean he's dozing as he holds you, rather than listening to you reading it.

“…mmh, sounds good Pumpkin,” he mumbles, half asleep as you look up at him with a sigh.

“Did you hear anything I just read?” you ask, not mad, but certainly exhausted from the monotony of the book. Audels Gardeners and Growers guide volume 4 was not for the casual gardener, nor was it something you yourself were interested in.

Two days ago during a maybe too enthusiastic make out session in his room, Umemiya managed to fully crush his glasses, frames and all with his elbow, though neither of you noticed until you got up the next morning with one of the lenses having pasted itself to your thigh as you slept before uncerimoniously falling on the floor with a small tink as you got out of bed.

It wasn’t too big a deal; he barely used them unless he was reading...except for the fact that he reads. A lot. Much more than you’d think a retired gang leader would at least, and although it was cute for the first few minutes, him holding his book out as he tried to squint-read the words had become a problem. The squinting was giving him migraine that even he couldn't brush off as nothing.

“I’ll just read it to you until you get your glasses back from the eye doctor's. It's partially my fault they're broken anyways.”

“Really?! You're gonna read to me?” he’d asked, and you're sure if it were possible, he'd have stars in his eyes. That was when he drug out blankets from the closet and made mugs of tea for you both before settling you to sit between his legs in the recliner, having you lean back against his broad chest. The blankets over you were icing on the cake, leaving you both more than comfortable for this.

Cracking open the book, you began where he'd left off on the page, but the more you read, the less sounds and comments he'd make, until finally, painfully, you read to where you're at now, stuck on this chapter about plant fertilization.

"Hajime, your tomatoes are escaping," you say, testing just how far gone he is.

“Huh? Catch them,” he breathes, and you know for sure that he’s listening but definitely not listening.

He only really starts to wake up when you shake him awake with your laughter, his continued nonsensical answers cracking you up. You lost it when you told him he had to bounce on it.

"Bounce on it?

"Crazy style," you nod solemnly, doing your best Nosferatu impression before you bark with laughter. Your laugh dies down as his arm tightens around you, the haze of sleep finally clearing.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh, just that I both managed to convince you that your tomatoes were taking a vacation to Costa Rica, and that my middle name is William. You said it was beautiful," you snicker, feeling him chuckle as he leans forward to blow a raspberry right on your cheek.

"Wha- A sneak attack?"

"That's what you get for bullying me in my sleep." You can recall a few times he's bullied you in your sleep and it wasn't anything as innocent as this.

"That's what you get for falling asleep while I was reading to you."

"It's not my fault your voice is soothing. I don't think I've ever slept better. Maybe you're a siren? Hypnotizing and tempting me into sleep infested waters," he teases, closing his eyes and pressing his lips to the crown of your head. He definitely been reading too many bedtime stories to his siblings again.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, because you are also insanely cheesy,” you laugh, dog-earring the page in the book. While this wasn't productive for reading, you can't say it wasn't at least relaxing to a point.

“I’m lucky you’re mine,” he smiles, leaning back in the recliner further to curl you up closer in his arms. “Will you read to me again sometime? I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep, but I really do love hearing your voice.”

It’s a bit embarrassing to hear, because you know it’s true. He’ll call you any time you’re free, saying that he just really missed hearing you. Looking on his phone, he’s saved every voice message you’ve ever sent. He’s absolutely shameless about you and you can’t bring yourself to be anything but shameless about him too.

“Mm…I guess this siren can spare a little of my voice for you.”

#mari writes #ough its been about 5 months since ive written #umemiya hajime x reader #wind breaker x reader #i started rhyming at the end??#thts how u know im sleep deprived #i got to use an exerpt from my gardening guide tho so...fun!#I'm sleeping now nighty night #o i didnt beta it #em if ur reading this beta it in spirit #alsoo #isnt sleepy ume cute?#imtrying to find his voice again #like the one i used to write him wth #ne ways peace out girl scout dont look at me if there are typos

133 notes · View notes

mysoftboybensolo · 6 months ago

Text

Things I Don't Understand of Audiences Reaction of Nosferatu 2024

Complaints of how this is a ripoff of Dracula, and I am like, of course it is! The original 1922 film is the most famous ripoff in the history of cinema, but it is also one of the best ripoffs ever. Maybe know your history just a bit.

Why are people saying that Ellen dying was stupid or unnecessary? Firstly, that has been the ending in the 1922 and the 1979 film, this wasn't just anything Eggers pulled from nowhere. Secondly, people don't seem to understand that the Gothic genre never not one that allows it's characters to walk away unscathed, whether it is physical damage or mental damage. Blood is demanded, and hardly a truly happy ending is found, at best a bittersweet ending or at worst an ending where everyone is unhappy. I think not only is it true to the films this one is based on, but also the only satisfying ending. Ellen wouldn't have been truly happy if she had survived, because she still will be a seer, she will still have darkness looming inside, and Thomas is either incapable or unwilling to accept it. He's belief that killing Orlok will bring a reset to everything, even bringing Ellen back to how she was before, but the Ellen she was before was still suffered. He brushes aside her nightmares without comfort, he doesn't take into account how she views their marriage (when she insists that she doesn't need material things but he acts as if he knows better), and when she tries to express her suffering, he would prefer her to suppress it. She would never be truly free, but to die doing a good thing, to have control over her death the way she didn't in life, it's an empowering end, if bittersweet.

People complaining about the pace of the film, saying it starts off fine but then drags in the middle? I think the film flowed wonderfully, there was never a moment when I was thinking how much longer to the end or felt it rushed in the story. I personally cannot wait until we get the extended version, but I am happy with how it came out.

Where are people getting "Orlok groomed Ellen" from? Grooming is when someone goes after a minor and gets them to be emotionally attached to them for a long period of time in order to achieve some sort of goal (often times sex). People have been saying Ellen was a "literal child", but we don't know that for certain. Yes, Ellen described herself as a child, but it seems that the term child is used more as a synonym of "inexperienced" or "young". Also, we are not sure how old any of these characters are. If we were to go by actors ages as guidelines, Lily-Rose Depp was 24 when filming this, and all we get in between the first scene to the present day is merely "years later". That can mean two years or ten, we cannot be sure. And while Lil-Rose Depp can look younger than her age, no one better try and say she was playing a 12 year old or whatever in that first scene, because there is no way you can convince me she is as young as that. Also, Ellen hadn't been emotionally attached to Orlok between the years to make it grooming. I can make a better argument of grooming in another famous Gothic movie the 2004 "Phantom of the Opera" then I could with "Nosferatu".

Listen, this movie won't be for everyone, that is fine, but what I have an issue with is saying people are dumb or evil for thinking Ellen x Orlok is interesting/has romantic elements to it. One person commented on another's post about saying that the cast are dumb for seeing this as a love triangle, especially Lily-Rose Depp for not seeing Ellen as a victim. The director, who also wrote it, wanted this version to play up the Death and the Maiden themes, that was their vision, and I don't think it's right or fair to say they are dumb because the original movie wasn't a love triangle. If we were to be really anal about it, so many pieces of media we have we wouldn't be able to enjoy because it's origins are not the same. Sorry Disney's Hunchback fans, you can't enjoy the happy ending because the original was a downer. Sorry Wicked fans, it's nothing like "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz", so it shouldn't be enjoyed. See how ridiculous it sounds? You can debate if whether or not they managed to achieve their goal, but you can't deny that was the intention and say people are dumb for picking up what they had intended.

I also feel that it's quite hypocritical of people to say that the relationship between Orlok and Ellen is evil and creepy, but then go off and say that the scenes where Friedrich has sex with Anna's corpse as "romantic" and Thomas' couch scene as "hot", when both deal with dubious/no consent at all. Just admit it, you are fine with dubious stuff so long as it's a hot guy doing it. The couch scene was quite uncomfortable for me, Ellen is clearly not in her right mind, even if not by some kind of possession, but emotionally, and it didn't sit right what Thomas did. I am not saying he raped her, but she wasn't in the right mind space to have this be a passionate moment. And he wasn't doing because of love or passion, he was doing it because he didn't like hearing Ellen say how he couldn't please her like the Count could. We had seen what they are like when they are in a good head space and the feeling mutual, as we saw in the den of the Harding's home. I feel like this scene wasn't meant to be a hot and sexy moment, but a incredibly distressing moment when two individuals are acting at their worst.

I don't understand how people feel that this film isn't a feminist film. I've seen people claim that the movie shames Ellen and that her not finding out how to stop Orlok is robbing her of her agency. Here's the thing, yes, many characters shame her for what she feels, but the narrative doesn't. As the audience, we feel sorry for her, feel bad for everything she is going through, and given the time period, of course there would be many people (mainly men) who will shame her passions or deny her darkness in favor for a more "womanly behavior". We are meant to see how the human world would never understand Ellen the way Orlok would understand her, why she would have called out a force that is inhuman, because humanity has turned her away. What's fascinating is that Ellen has control of Orlok, being able to call him, speak to him as an equal, and get him, a powerful centuries old being, to admit that she is his affliction, his weakness, and in the end, it's proven right. This mortal woman is able to defeat a supernatural being, all the while him loving her, how is that not awesome and feminist?

In regards to her finding the cure; true, in both the '22 and '79 film, Ellen figure out on her own what needs to be done to stop Orlok, but that doesn't mean '24 Ellen isn't smart or in charge of her own actions. We've seen Ellen say what the future holds multiple times, so it isn't crazy to believe that she would have seen what her fate would have been as it drew closer, and her need to talk to Von Franz read to me as her knowing the cure. When Ellen walks Von Franz to his home, she says that she knows what must be done, and they work together to make this happen, with him promising to keep Thomas away. Out of all the men, Von Franz had been the only one to take her feelings and thoughts seriously, and he does so here, including her in the plan (where Thomas had refused her to help), even giving her the chance to be stop Orlok without interruption. He isn't denying her agency, he's keeping others at bay so she can be the hero.

I like the moustache, just like a Romanian nobleman would have had, exactly what the director wanted. After leaving the theatre, my friend and I were discussing the film, and of course the design of Orlok was brought up, and she said "I liked it, especially the moustache, very Vlad the Impaler". She isn't a massive Dracula fan but she understood what was the inspiration behind it. Y'all are just uncultured swine.

In the end, I love this film, and wanted to just share my two cents.

#nosferatu #nosferatu 2024 #robert eggers #bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #lily rose depp #count orlok #ellen hutter #nicholas hoult #thomas hutter

137 notes · View notes

judasprieist · 4 months ago

Text

† EVANESCENT — pt. 2

summary: years have passed since anakin skywalker betrayed your trust, yet you're constantly tortured by his presence in your mind.

pairing: darth vader x reader — pt.1

warnings: angsty, i might disappoint you, vader, suicidal reader? a little.

a/n: by popular demand (like two people), nosferatu x vader is back. as always, i tried my best. yes i will make a part three. do not fret.

How you got here was a mystery to you. The sheets felt too real, and so did the eerie darkness surrounding you. This wasn't a dream. The only light in the room was provided by the full moon decorating the black night sky, though it did very little to help you make sense of your surroundings.

A sense of dread and panic filled your veins, your heart beating out of your chest, uncomfortably so. You stopped hoping for answers long ago.

The sound of heavy, measured footsteps snapped you out of your trance and you prayed the ground would swallow you whole. This nightmare that was your life seemed never-ending. You hated feeling helpless and vulnerable — yet that's all you've ever known for years now.

Those years passed by as a blur, spending every waking moment looking over your shoulder, hyper-aware of every little shadow lurking in the corners of your eyes. It took everything from you. He took everything from you. The little things you enjoyed no longer provided comfort; your beautiful rose garden slowly withered away. Books were no longer an escape.

"You're here at last."

Your eyes widened at the sound of his voice. His voice? That's a joke. He no longer was the man you knew, including whatever voice he spoke to you in. Maybe it was better that way. Because you were sure if it was his voice you'd hear, it would've torn apart pieces of your heart you worked so hard to sew together over the years.

"Not by will." You replied. You tore your gaze away from your hand, nails picking at the skin of your fingers as you looked up at him. Involuntarily, your eyes narrowed, as if trying to see through him — to no avail, of course.

"It matters not." He was quick to retort, the sound of his boots deafening as he stepped inside the room.

"To you."

"Neither does it to you."

Hah. Of course it did. As much as you longed to disappear, you didn't exactly envision him being the one to end your suffering. He would never. He had always been way too selfish.

"You're delusional."

"You need to be more aware of the tone you're using with me, my precious."

Ugh. You wanted to puke. The pet name that once gave you butterflies had your stomach turning in the worst way possible.

"I am very aware. It is intentional." You shot back without a blink of an eye. You had no idea what gave you the confidence. Maybe it was the realization that you had nothing to lose, or maybe it was the need to prove him wrong; you were no longer the shy little dove he once knew.

"You have no fear, then. I am an appetite, nothing more. You shouldn't wish to anger me."

He spoke as if his reputation did not preceed him. He was demanding, murderous, bloodthirsty, heartless. Cruel? No.

Cruel is when you can't die, even if you want to.

Your feet moved without you realizing, and you were off the bed. You took one, two steps closer, the corner of your mouth twitching slightly.

"You suck the life out of me. Tell me what it is that you want from me. I have nothing left to offer. I can't comprehend what you could possibly need."

He tilted his head to the side. The silence was torturous to your poor ears, and it took everything in you not to yell, scream, or throw anything you could get your hands on. Years of pent up frustration does that to a person, it seems. And you were no better than an average mortal.

"You."

Alright. You should've expected that. Still, it didn't stop your heart from skipping a beat, and you absolutely despised yourself for it.

"You lost that privilege a very, very long time ago." You scoffed, fingers gripping onto the fabric of your nightgown.

He took a couple steps, eventually closing the distance between you. You were ready for anything. To be hit, to be strangled, pushed, thrown even. You weren't ready to feel his gentle caress on your cheekbone. It had you flinching, turning your head away.

His hand dropped back to his side, gloves crunching as his fingers curled into a fist.

"You have no idea what I'm capable of. I've had my strongest soldiers begging on their knees for another chance at their pathetic lives. You are a fool, girl, if you think you are above them. Your mind is fragile, weak. I could break you into thousands of pieces with a flick of my wrist."

It was so in character of him to leave you without any time to argue. You were once again left breathless in the confines of this dark cell, with no sights of an end.

#hayden christensen #star wars #anakin skywalker #darth vader #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen x you #rory's drabbles 🐭#anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #darth vader x reader #darth vader x you

94 notes · View notes

knowncorpse · 1 year ago

Text

Cooking up a sweet little Nosferatu girl <3

She was one of the many who were turned out of spite for the beauty she once had.

She was fortunate enough to be picked up and nurtured by two kindred. They aren’t the best father figures but they are hers 🫶

#lydia #vtm oc #ttrpg art #world of darkness #vampire oc #Nosferatu #my art #vampire the masquerade #vtm #vtm art #cwak

319 notes · View notes

scary-grace · 4 months ago

Text

PARIAH (part 3) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Shigaraki Tomura was buried three days ago, struck down at last by the affliction that’s haunted him all his life. Now, with muffled screams emanating from the graveyard and the same affliction striking down villagers left and right, the priest has ordered Shigaraki raised from the grave and put to death properly this time. It falls to Spinner, wracked with guilt over his best friend’s fate, to seek help from a monstrosity equal to the one that haunts Shigaraki — the witch who dwells in the darkest part of the forest. In other words, you.

Nosferatu AU, multi-POV, 10k+ words. Vampires, wolves, and witches, oh my! All the typical warnings one might expect for a fic about vampires. If you like Gran Torino this is not the fic for you.

part i part ii

part iii

You recoil from him with all the strength you possess, panic surging through you. You’re able to master it for only a split second – long enough to search out his vital signs, to confirm that his unconsciousness is a temporary state rather than a harbinger of his death – before your fear drives you back across the room away from him, so far that your back is pressed against the opposite wall. Even then, you can barely breathe. The taste of human blood still clings to your tongue.

It’s like nothing you’ve ever tasted before, potent and intoxicating, the way alcohol must feel to humans whose metabolisms can’t grasp that it’s poison. But the taste of the human’s blood isn’t why you’ve fled from him, or at least it doesn’t feel like the reason. When you bowed your head to his neck and struggled to draw away, you weren’t battling a desire to sink your teeth into the marks the Old One left behind. It wasn’t his blood that you wanted.

Or was it? The hunger is insidious, you were always told. It hides itself in whatever form it must in order to lure you into satiating it. When some new sensation, some new emotion takes hold, you must always assume it’s vampiric, not human. You need no other reason to stay as far from this human as possible.

But you can’t do that. You can’t leave him sprawled out on the table; he needs to rest, and eat and drink when he wakes up, and that means you need to have something to feed him. You have to find a place to put him that’s more comfortable, and you can only think of your own bed, often unused and certainly going unused tonight, regardless of where you put the human. The human – Shigaraki. You don’t know his given name, but you can still taste his blood.

That knowledge above all else is what spurs you to action. You seize the bowl of water you were soaking the bandages in and raise it to your lips.

If the Old One drank this, even in its diluted form, it would burn him alive from the inside out. You hold it in your mouth, eyes watering from the pain, until you can take it no longer. When you stumble to the front door, open it, and spit out into the dirt, most of your taste buds fall away with it, salt from the inland sea functioning the same as acid would. You won’t be able to taste anything for a while. But you can’t taste Shigaraki’s blood, and that’s the important thing. You’ll never be pure again, but you are clean, and clear enough of mind to assess the situation properly.

The longer you think about it, the worse it gets. If all you had done was clash with the priest over an innocent man’s life, that would be permissible, acceptable, necessary. But the man in question is the Old One’s chosen host, and you didn’t just rescue him from the priest – you brought him to your home and deliberately stripped the Old One’s essence from his body. Even if you were nothing but a witch dwelling at the edge of the world, it would have been desperately unwise to do.

But you aren’t a witch dwelling at the edge of the woods. You’re one of three surviving members of the order Academia, dedicated to the defeat of vampires and the preservation of humanity, and you’re supposed to be in hiding. The other two are Professors, and it’s their job to kill vampires. Your job is to stay hidden, to preserve Academia’s vast stores of knowledge within both the archive and your memory, and if necessary, to rebuild the order from the ground up if all the Professors are killed. At this moment, however, the Professors are safer than they’ve ever been. All the Old One’s thought is bent on claiming his newest host, and you’ve stolen him. The Old One is after you.

You haven’t just endangered yourself. You’ve endangered the order, after being charged with protecting it when you barely understood what that meant, and worse still, you can’t see how you could have averted this outcome. Any course of action that included rescuing Shigaraki from the villagers inevitably ends here. The only course that wouldn’t have was to let him die.

When you think of the order members you’ve known over your time as the lighthouse keeper, it’s easy to imagine what they’d have done. To a fault, they’d have left Shigaraki’s fate to Father Torino. But the order is meant to protect humanity, and Shigaraki is still human. More human than you are. More human by half. If you deserve to live, so does he. You straighten up, breathe deep, and force yourself again to assess the situation. You may not be a hunter, but you are an archive. You know all you need to know in order to survive this night. The rest can be dealt with in the morning.

You’re certain of it, certain that no matter how far out of your depth you feel, you have the knowledge to prevail – but when you step back inside and see Shigaraki still sprawled on the table, multiple pieces of your resolve falter at once. The idea of going near him again frightens you. You know to be afraid of your hunger, no matter its origins. But you aren’t a child, and even when you were, you never stooped to drinking human blood. You delay as long as possible, rearranging your bed and fluffing the pillows, before turning back to the table.

Shigaraki’s been insensate, but absent the Old One’s influence clogging his veins, he must be a light sleeper. No sooner has your hand brushed his shoulder than he jerks awake, flinching away, one hand held out to forestall you. There’s some mix of disgust and resignation on his face. You think of how many times he must have been woken from sleep by the Old One, how little his refusal would have mattered, and take a careful step back.

The fight drains out of him in a rush. He slumps back against the table, averting his eyes from yours. “I thought you were him.”

You shake your head. “I did not mean to unsettle you, just to move you somewhere more comfortable.”

“To move me. You intend to carry me?”

“That was the plan,” you admit. Your face inexplicably heats up, making you wish for your veil. “It’s not far. You can walk if you’d like.”

Shigaraki shakes his head. “Carry me if you wish.”

If he’d like, if you wish. You do wish. The degree to which you wish strikes you as somewhat unseemly, some obscure outgrowth of the hunger that stalks the edges of your consciousness. You gather Shigaraki into your arms, and unlike the last time you tried this, he cooperates fully, his arms winding about your neck and his body curled in against your chest. Shigaraki has every reason to fear vampires, but he trusted you to save him, even knowing that it would leave him vulnerable. He has every reason to flinch from a vampire’s touch, but he holds onto you.

You label every unfamiliar feeling as vampiric in origin, simply because it’s the safest thing to do, but the feeling that chases at the heels of your pity and sorrow for him would be unmistakable even if you didn’t. When you think of Shigaraki in the Old One’s clutches, the rage that sweeps through you comes from a single source, a thought you’ve never had about anything, let alone a human. Something visceral, unassailable by virtue or reason: He’s mine.

That is not a thought you should be having. You set Shigaraki down on your bed perhaps a little too brusquely, then try to make up for it by drawing the blankets carefully over him. Even that gesture is tainted by possessiveness, heavy with hunger. You draw back to a safe distance at speed.

Shigaraki watches you go. “If you meant to drink my blood, you would have done it already,” he says. “I’m not frightened of you.”

He should be. Right now you are. “I must take my leave of you. There is much to do to prepare for nightfall.”

That brings a flash of fear to Shigaraki’s pale face. “It doesn’t matter what you do,” he says. “You cannot keep him out.”

“This place was built to withstand him,” you say. You leave out that it was built to withstand him at the height of his powers, and that it was intended to be guarded by a dozen Professors every night. With the Old One’s decaying body and only you to stand watch, it’s a much more even fight. “I make the same preparations every night. And tonight we have an advantage.”

“What advantage?”

“As they sleep in daylight, vampires are truly dead to the world,” you say. “The Old One won’t know you’ve shaken off his control until he wakes up.”

It’s an advantage that will last only for the night, but that should give you time to plan something better. It occurs to you on your way out the door that Shigaraki will need to eat, and the bone broth you’ve been simmering since this morning will be ready by the time you return. You gather the supplies you take whenever you walk the perimeter and set off. Seventy-three minutes until nightfall. Courtesy of your vampiric nature, you always know how much daylight remains.

Your defenses are solid, as they should be. You check them every night, as you were taught to do by the last lighthouse keeper before he and the archive he protected were both destroyed. The vampire who did that wasn’t the Old One, and he was underestimated as a result — and after he destroyed the archive, he escaped. Mirai taught you much in life, but his death taught you an even more valuable lesson: When it comes to vampires, you must never assume you hold the upper hand. When it comes to vampires, you are always about to die.

So you guard against both, the unnamed vampire who destroyed the old archive and thrust you into this role before your time and the Old One your order has hunted through generations. The wolf-dogs trail at your heels as you scatter concentric rings of salt, as you string nets of silver lace between the trees, attaching a few silver bells to each one. If a vampire should somehow manage to encounter the nets without howling in agony, the ringing of the bells will warn you, too.

You plant an extra row of stakes around the perimeter of your fence, ensuring they’ll stick out at an angle. Sometimes it seems you spend all day making stakes, creating spool after spool of lace, but this is why. You could fortify your home ten times over and still have supplies to spare.

The wolf-dogs follow you through the gate, and you shut it behind them, draping it in heavy silver chains that you polish carefully each morning. You still have a few moments before nightfall, and it’s going to be a very cold night. You bring in more firewood than usual, confident that a human who’s been habitually drained of blood will feel the cold worse than you do, then step back inside, ushering the newest additions to the pack of wolf-dogs in after you.

You can’t rescue all the pups from Father Torino’s edict that they be drowned, but you save as many as you can, and the litter of five pups that was born out of season was the largest single rescue you’ve attempted to date. Their eyes were barely open when you recovered them, but now they’re approaching four months old, and they’re rambunctious to the extreme. You’d keep them outside if you could, but their coats are too downy yet to keep out the wind and rain, and you’d rather deal with them inside each night than let them freeze. Besides, they’re an excellent distraction from your other guest.

Or a distraction for him. While you’ve been wiping the last pup’s paws clean, the others have discovered Shigaraki, and before you can stop him, he’s patted the bed and invited all five up to join him. Naturally, they oblige, and you can do nothing but stare in exasperation.

Shigaraki catches you looking. “What? It was their idea.”

“I saw you. Don’t lie.” You can’t begrudge him, though; although the wolf-dog pups are crawling all over him, for the first time since you met him, he looks something approaching happy. “They’ll never leave you be. Not now that they know you’re a soft touch.”

Shigaraki laughs quietly at that. His voice is all but ruined from screaming, but he laughs, and you turn away in a hurry. If you get the pups their supper, they’ll abandon him, and the sight of him cuddling with them won’t produce any more awful feelings inside you. Shigaraki speaks again as you’re filling the pups’ trough. “As if you aren’t a soft touch of your own. For the rigidity of the priest’s convictions and the presence of so many wolves in the mountains, surprisingly few wolf-dogs are drowned in the village.”

“What are you implying?”

“That the village brats know to leave their half-breed pups unattended,” Shigaraki says. “It seems they have a great deal of faith in you.”

You had wondered why the rescues were so much easier of late. “That odd one most of all,” Shigaraki continues. “He must, to turn to you for help in the face of a vampire.”

You aren’t surprised at all that it was Midoriya Izuku who sought you out. After all, it’s in his blood. “Then again,” Shigaraki says, and you look up in time to see the pups abandon him and charge for their meal, “you are not unlike a vampire yourself.”

He doesn’t ask a question, but you hear one, and you choose to answer, where you would have obfuscated before. “Half-vampire would be the most accurate term. Conceived by human parents, born to a mother who was either bitten or turned.”

“I read of your kind. In Sensei’s library, before he locked it away.” Shigaraki’s eyes are intent on yours. “I would have guessed for myself if my mental faculties were not so thoroughly decayed.”

“You spent quite some time buried alive. Anyone’s faculties would be corroded,” you say. “What did the Old One’s books say about my kind?”

“They concurred with the priest. You are unclean,” Shigaraki says, and you snort. “Those who create a half-vampire are obligated to destroy it, or else their own existences are forfeit. Vampires keep precious few laws, but regarding that, they are inflexible.”

“Oh,” you say. “So that’s where the Elders went.”

“What?”

“The Old One used to be one of a cadre of master vampires, but some sixty years ago, all but the Old One vanished.” You called yourself the Old One’s fatal mistake, but it seems you’ve been fatal for others, not for him. “Do you think he would take a death sentence lying down?”

Shigaraki laughs hollowly. “He defeated his own kind, equals in power. You have no chance against him.”

“Then it’s good that I don’t intend to fight him,” you say. “Our task is simply to survive the night.”

Night will fall within seconds. You leave your conversation with Shigaraki behind and shut the windows, lining each windowsill with rough crystals of salt. With the loss of the sun, you feel your newfound impurity more acutely, and it did not need the assistance. Your instinct is to descend into the archive and hide until morning, but you must be here to look after your guest. Whose blood you’ve tasted. Whose name you still don’t know. At this point it would be awkward to ask.

You bring him a cup of water and some bone broth, then retreat with your own meal to the bench nearest the window. Shigaraki’s voice follows you. “Do you usually keep such distance from humans?”

It’s not because he’s human. It’s because he’s himself, and you’re drawn to him in a way you don’t understand. You don’t think you’d take his blood, no matter how close to him you got, but you have no idea what you would do instead. The thought crosses your mind that your human side might know the answer, but your human side is quiet. It always has been, because it was never your human side that the Academia wanted you for.

“I am comfortable with humans at any distance,” you say. “This is for your comfort more than mine.”

“I told you already. I’m not frightened of you,” Shigaraki says. “I know evil. It does not look like you.”

Not on the outside, no — but there’s something monstrous within you, something you bury deep. “Do you think evil comes from within, or from beyond?”

“Does it matter?” Shigaraki is drinking more than eating, but at least he’s consuming some of both. “The result is the same, either way.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “Within, I think. Sensei chose to become what he is. You didn’t.”

“I choose which side of my nature to obey,” you say. You think it’s important to tell Shigaraki, to warn him that you are not what you appear to be. “I never tasted human blood until yours.”

“I never asked a vampire to touch me before you,” Shigaraki says, and your face heats up. “Did you desire my blood?”

You shake your head, and to your surprise, Shigaraki presses the point. “Why not?”

“I don’t drink blood.”

“I asked if you desired it,” Shigaraki says. “There is a difference. Answer me.”

Some part of you bridles at being ordered around in your own home — the human part of you, you think. Your vampiric nature wishes to offer more information than necessary, and in your answer, you fail to tamp it down. “There are things I desire more.”

Shigaraki blinks. For your part, you avoid eye contact, staring down into your bowl of broth. It’s a poor meal. You should have made bread to go with it, but you were busy. Busy making mistake after mistake, endangering what scraps of the Academia still remain, opening yourself up to the baser instincts you’ve suppressed all your life. Your predecessors would be ashamed of you, your most recent predecessor most of all. Mirai would not have heeded Spinner’s call. He would have let Shigaraki die, and quite possibly saved the world in the bargain.

“I’m cold,” Shigaraki says into the silence. You set your empty bowl aside and return to build up the fire. The pups are mostly asleep, but at least one is still interested in Shigaraki, and when you take his own empty bowl away, you replace it with the pup he was holding before. “This is your bed. Where do you intend to sleep?”

“This night, I don’t,” you say. “I rarely sleep.”

“Why not?”

“Vampires rest during daylight, humans at night. There’s no time of day that feels natural to sleep.” When you were young, you slept days. Once the Academia found you, you slept not at all. “If you were concerned about putting me out, don’t be. You’re a guest, and you must rest if you want to be well for your friends’ visit tomorrow.”

Shigaraki studies you. The pup is already fast asleep and snoring in his arms. “What happens then?” he asks. You give him a strange look. “If I leave, Sensei will follow me, and all your work will be undone.”

“I will give you and your friends what you need to mount an effective defense,” you say. “I don’t plan to throw you out on your ear.”

You don’t want to throw him out. You want to keep him here. “Do you think we can find a more secure place to stay?” Shigaraki asks. “By tomorrow night?”

No. If you send Shigaraki away, he and his friends will die. “I must protect the archive,” you say. “If the Old One attacks at his full strength, all will be lost.”

“If he reclaims me, all will be lost.” An involuntary shudder travels through Shigaraki, and a corresponding chill drips down your spine. “It is in your interest to slay him, yes? When will you have a chance like this again?”

“You know little of slaying vampires,” you say sharply. “Say what you mean.”

Shigaraki holds your gaze for a moment, then looks away. “I feel safe here,” he says, and your innards twist so painfully that it takes a small miracle to avoid doubling over. “My friends and I will be safer with you.”

The human side of you answers him without hesitating. “Then stay.”

You go about your nightly work, struggling to maintain some veneer of reality over your increasingly tainted thoughts. Shigaraki is drawn to the safety you provide, not to you specifically. He would respond the same to any lighthouse keeper, if any of them were fool enough to take him in. You’re nothing special, except that you’re here. You could be anyone. There’s no reason for Shigaraki to feel the same magnetic pull towards you as you do to him.

He must be exhausted. You keep waiting for him to fall asleep, but every time you glance up from your work, you find him watching you, eyes half-lidded, expression relaxed. It makes you self-conscious. “What?”

“Sensei’s fatal mistake,” he says. “What did you mean?”

“It refers to an old text, written when vampires first arose to plague humanity,” you say. “The exact phrasing –”

It takes you a moment. “In their lust for death they sow the seeds of their own undoing.” That was it. You remember wishing for something more definitive. “Coupled with the avoidance of creating half-vampires, it was determined that half-vampires were the key to defeating the Old Ones.”

You remember Nana Shimura holding your face in her hands, smiling down at you brighter than the sun. You will be his downfall, she said. You will be our light. “It’s only a legend.”

“If it were only a legend, creating a half-vampire would not be punishable by death,” Shigaraki says. All the pups are napping with him now. They’re hard to look at together. You don’t like what seeing them makes you feel. “Who taught you this?”

“I had many teachers,” you say. “Professor Shimura was the first.”

Shigaraki’s eyes widen. “Shimura?”

Before you can say anything, before he can elaborate, a howl rises up from somewhere in the woods. It’s distant. You can tell by the way it echoes that the wolf is at the edge of the woods, but you know it won’t stay there. Wolves don’t set foot in these woods, warned back by the presence of the wolf-dogs and the scent of the direwolves. If one is this close, it’s being compelled to approach — and if it’s the Old One’s doing, it won’t be alone.

There’s a second howl, and a third. You hear a sharp intake of breath and glance away from the shuttered window towards Shigaraki, who’s gone pale. “Your defenses won’t work on them,” he says. “They’ll tell him how to find me.”

They will, if even one makes it within view of your home, and you won’t leave it to the wolf-dogs to face a threat you’re responsible for bringing down upon them. You decide on a course of action instantly, and scoop Shigaraki up from the bed, blankets, wolf-dogs and all. He puts up a desultory protest, but he’s shaking in your grip. You press the trick stone in the floor, impatience and frustration humming inside you, and you and Shigaraki are halfway down the hidden stairs before the doorway’s even opened completely.

It’s cold down here. So cold. You don’t want to leave Shigaraki here, but you brought the pups, too, and they’ll keep him warm. Your eyes adjust to the darkness quickly and easily, so easily that you almost forget that Shigaraki will need light to see. As you light the lanterns, the chamber below your cottage comes into view, and Shigaraki stares. “What is this place?”

“The archive,” you say. In the old archive, there were many comfortable places to rest and read, but in this one, hastily constructed in the aftermath of old archive’s destruction, has only uncomfortable stools and cold stone. “Once I leave and seal it, it won’t open until morning or my return. You’ll be safe here.”

“Where are you going?”

“To kill the wolves.”

Shigaraki’s eyes widen. “You can’t,” he says, as you wrap the blankets more securely around him. “You’re only —”

“Human?” You finish the sentence for him. “Only half. Stay here and rest. I’ll be back.”

“Wait,” Shigaraki says, and you pause in the act of pulling away. He seizes your hand anyway. His fingers are cold. “Come back. Say you will.”

“I’ll come back,” you promise. On an impulse you regret the moment you follow it, you raise his hand to your mouth and press your lips against his frozen fingers.

You might regret the impulse, but it soothes the need, the hunger, that’s been tormenting you since you closed Shigaraki’s wounds. Shigaraki startles, but doesn’t retrieve his hand. When you pull away at last, he’s reluctant to let go.

You seal the archive behind you, then seal the cottage doors the same way. Re-entering will be painful for you, with so much salt and garlic and rose in your path, but it matters not so long as it protects Shigaraki. What happens to you matters little, so long as you protect him. You take off your shoes to lighten your step, arm yourself with a silver knife and a quiver of stakes, and set off through the woods at a speed only the direwolves could match.

Your human side is incomprehensible to you, but your vampiric side is all too familiar, and as you run, you turn it loose for the first time in decades. You allow your senses of smell and hearing to sharpen, allow your eyes to adjust to the night, search out the spark of violence that always dwells within you and work to fan the flames. The possessiveness, too, works in your favor. These are your woods. The wolf-dogs following in your wake are yours to protect, and the human is yours, too. Whatever seeks to harm them will find you waiting, and even as your senses identify half a dozen wolves prowling through the woods, your resolve doesn’t weaken. Half a dozen. If the Old One wanted to see his host reclaimed and his mistake unmade, he should have sent an army.

The first wolf appears before you, hackles raised but facing the other way. You leave the knife sheathed, the stakes undisturbed in their quiver, and you attack with bared teeth and empty hands.

<- part ii

tagging: @stardustdreamersisi @shigarakislaughter @deadhands69 @cryptidfuckerofficial @f3r4lfr0gg3r @minniessskii @lvtuss @issaortiz @evilcookie5 @lacrimae-lotos @xeveryxstarfallx @aslutforfictionalmen

let me know if you'd like to be removed from the taglist! this one is all-purpose, but I can make one for specific fics if need be

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x you #tomura shigaraki x you #shigaraki x you #reader insert #x reader #man door hand hook car door #nosferatu AU

68 notes · View notes

kilesplaysthings · 5 months ago

Text

boyfriend!Caleb ideas!! because i've been sick and he's been living rent-free in my head since he came out~~ i think he's tied for top fave with zayne now

(warning, this is VERY self-indulgent)

This is SWF.

boyfriend!Caleb who comes home from work the same time as you, who is happy to be the one who cooks dinner. is a master at meal prep. will begrudgingly let you do the clean-up afterwards because he finds you cute in the way you stubbornly insist he doesn't do all the work

boyfriend!Caleb who is more than happy to come with you to every late-night showing of the horror movies you've been super excited to see. You both were entranced with the film Longlegs and were freaking out over Nosferatu. the car rides home are always filled with you two gushing about the movie you just watched

boyfriend!Caleb who is also your video game buddy. you both play games together whether it's a co-op or an open world game. you both take turns playing through your favorite series, be it Resident Evil, Silent Hill, Dead Space, Fatal Frame, etc. Will happily take over playing for you if you get too freaked out playing a survival horror game, like Outlast

boyfriend!Caleb who is open to trying out different movies or shows you recommend, especially if it's something you tell him you think he'll really like. saw someone else's post saying he'd get upset if you watched an episode of a show you're watching together by yourself first, and that is SO TRUE. he'd totally pout about it

boyfriend!Caleb who jams with you to your favorite tunes while traveling together in his car. windows down, volume up all the way; just having a blast together with songs from your guys’ playlists or old tunes you guys recall from your childhoods.

boyfriend!Caleb who will fit in super easily with your family. Will gush over pilot stuff with your dad, your mom will dote on him even more than on you (and will even take his side on things sometimes) got brothers? is right there with them ranting and raving about sports they all like. sisters? he will care for and protect them.

And of course, if you’re not on good terms with your family, he will make sure they don’t cause you any grief. Ever. the guard dog mode will be ON.

boyfriend!Caleb who will always worry about your health, to the point of nagging sometimes. if you’re bad about keeping up with routine check ups, don’t worry. he’s got you covered. will be more than happy to schedule appointments for you if you don’t like talking on the phone.

that of course, also goes for your mental health. though, he knows well enough to leave that depth of care to the professionals. of course, he will always lend an ear if you need to rant or just cry about something. he’s there for you no matter what.

also will basically be your at-home nurse if you’re sick or injured. Would willingly take time off to care for you if you’d let him - even if it’s something as minute as a seasonal cold.

the biggest memelord. will share any and every thing he finds funny with you, no matter the time or place. you’ve got your own inside jokes and memes you share with each other that you guys reference and quote almost daily

The best cuddler. Will snuggle up to you like a cat if you let him. Definitely likes resting his head on your lap or vice versa.

Basically, he’s your best friend and someone who is utterly devoted to you and you alone 🧡

#help he’s ensnared me #I’m sorry if this is silly lol #love and deepspace #lads #lnds #lads caleb #lnds caleb

73 notes · View notes

literallys-illiteracy · 5 months ago

Text

Oh boy time for me to do my thing and watch closely: New HTP episode released

youtube

When discussing the Regent of Great Yarmouth (referred to in the scene as "The master"), we see the background use the same silhouette as the figure credited as "The Monk" in the final scenes of the first episode.

I think that the theory of Kevin actually having telepathy, still screaming at D about the blender every so often (assuming he hasn't had time to meet Kevin since purchasing it) is very funny so I'm going with it. Kevin's dribble while going off script says "POWERFUL WIZARD LAZER".

The symptoms that Spit displays line up heavily with those of the Delirium (note that there are many many different effects that the Delirium may take), with one of the most common reactions being catatonia (essentially becoming unresponsive in shock/fear), also implying that Spit has a willpower of 1.

Crossing off the supposed kindred from being a "Vampire Wizard" (presumably not only relating to Tremere but we don't know how the family classifies them), Kitten proposes them to be a Sludge Lad (Nosferatu) or Humanimal (Gangrel), also making a joke about La Ghostra Nostra, which I believe is mean to be a pun on La Cosa Nostra (The Sicilian Mafia).

As the group is still going by the assumption that this IS a vampire, they are treating it as if Simon (Spit) has been dominated (See previous HTP post for Domination). That AND Matilda posits that he could simply be faking it I Wonder Why.

Also yeah I ship it.

Brok is genuinely pissed at the idea of Spit being the ghoul for basically no reason bar the fact that they are/were friends for a long time.

Now we get to the part where I get to talk at length about the Irish man.

to start off with, I haven't actually the best guess as to what Occam fully is (other than being a hedge mage). The amulet he is wearing has a sigil which is common in Celtic circles called the Triskelion, this also has ties to Hellenistic history (most specifically in Sicily, which being the second mention of Sicily sent me down a weird rabbit hole, allow me to elaborate:)

Basically, the triskelion is linked to Sicily, Hellenism (used as a common symbol during the period) and the god Hermes (Hermes helped Perseus fetch the head of Medusa). This isn't the important part but by God if I did this research it isn't going to waste. (also there is a theoretical link between the fact that the symbol is not too distant from the god Hermes and the Order of Hermes but I don't think that's important)

In Sicily, in WoD, there are pretty much only two things of note: In Syracuse (city within Sicily for those unaware) is the old centre of the Clan Lasombra, however it has not been in major use for roughly 600 years by this point (1400's-2000).

The second thing is that there is a Cairn there which... Werewolves I guess.

There was a third section which started talking about the Ars Goetia and how that could also relate back to Occam's sorcery but I cut it.

Back to the murder at hand(s) (claws?):

We can continue seeing Matilda be aggressive and defensive, we can also see her hands become visibly claw shaped when agitated:

Foreshadowing is-

Even while locked up, Matilda continues to direct attention towards both Spit and Git. Note how the episode consistently draws attention towards her, being the only non hunter who has more than a few lines (Non hunters being Spit, Git, Amanda, Matilda) and being the only one to directly point blame at any single person.

The time out box is back and with a full clear view of the symbol on the side.

The first thing I thought was mercury, due to the crescent shaped open top and the crossed centre line, however most depict mercury having a full circle and half stacked on top.

Then I realised that it was the symbol for the magic sphere of Matter. I then also found where/what the symbol properly was.

The only proper source I can find for this symbol is this researchgate proposal about unicode.

The fourth image lists the symbol as "amalgam", but oddly enough both figures 1 and 3 disagree with fig. 4 and with each other as to what the proper symbol for amalgam is.

Alchemy is weird like that sometimes, anyways I spent way too long on this moving on.

Referring to spit, the obvious odd behaviour he displayed throughout the last episode.

Funnily enough, this can be explained through the excuse Git gave before, his Ritalin (ADHD medication) wearing off. For those unaware, there is a side effect of prescriptions stimulants, specifically when they are wearing off, in which one becomes extremely tired, irritable, agitated, hungry, or anxious when their medication runs out of their system. This can be worse with children or those with comorbid mental health problems such as anxiety or depressive disorders; crashing or rebounding in extreme cases, like seen with Spit, can be a sign that the dosage of medication is wrong (too high), or simply that your body doesn't vibe with the stimulant, in which case you should consult your psychiatrist and change medications. Speaking from experience, it's never fun to crashland from being relatively normal into being a prick.

Uh considering that Git also has a nicotine dependency (seen through his desperation for getting his smokes back), I can't help but wonder what substance Brokham is using. Honestly looking at him? Anabolic Steriods.

Which is to say that... uh. Spit goes in the box.

Ok so I want to let HTP be its own thing for the most part but there is a 0% chance this isn't an intentional reference so i'll note it down:

these two paintings that mark the archive: the left is a reference to Ephrael Stern, a Sister of Battle known as the "Thrice Born" or "Daemonifuge". We can see this from the fact that she has the same blue lipstick and a cross-tattoo on the same areas as her TTS depiction.

For similar, design correlated reasons, it is safe to assume that the portrait on the right is inspired by Aurelia Malys of the Dark Eldar, whose TTS portrayal is below:

There's probably some sort of foreshadowing going on here related to Markus seeking entrance to the Archives, Magnus seeking the Black Library, and Ephrael being in the Library for most of TTS.

final note about the door, I cannot be bothered to try and find the meaning of the alchemical symbols on the door but they are there and unimportant if anyone wants to check it out.

These two books have visible writing.

"Immortal Divorce Court (1)" and "Vamp Dictionary"

Please skip to the next red texted note if you don't want to read Latin lessons.

"Oculus Empyrean".

When I was first watching this episode, I misheard this as "Oculus Imperium" and got very confused because that would mean "Eye control(er)" (or more strictly it would be "Eye's control")

Oculus Empyrean (sort of) translates into "Eye of Heaven". The "Sort of" comes from the fact that Empyrean comes from medieval latin/early middle english, and also because of inflection.

Taking Oculus Empyrean at face value means "Eye Heaven" (unless my Latin is finally slipping as I go senile). This is because both Oculus and Empyrean are in the nominative case.

For non inflection-language speakers: The nominative case is used when a noun is the subject of an active verb, eg.

"The Ball was kicked into a tree" where "The Ball" is the nominative noun.

"Good Girl" for example would have nominative singular Puella (girl) and genitive singular version of Bonum, Boni, (Good) to create the phrase "Boni Puella".

However, that being said, unless listing nouns (the door, the wall, the shelf, and....-) or making a direct relation between two nouns (Jon is a farmer = Jon agricola est), I don't remember a case for multiple nominative inflections in a row; This is why it is more accurately translated to just Eye Heaven.

To actually write "The eye of heaven" in Latin, inflect both Eye and Heaven in the genitive case to indicate a relation between the two (as neither noun is the subject of a verb):

Oculi caeli

(I just swapped Empyrean for Caelum because they both mean heaven) (also, if you check this on google translate, due to Oculi being both the nominative plural, and the genitive singular of Oculus (as is the case for second declination nouns) it will probably translate as "eyes(plural) of heaven")

ok back to the actual episode because ????

The newburgh group is one of the members of the Coalition (Second Inquisition), which heavily backs the arcanum.

Ok so back on the eye real quick

This isn't an alchemical symbol, believe me, I've done multiple hours of research about alchemy today alone (if I had a nickel for every time I researched alchemy in depth for a media series I would have three nickels-)

the closest I could find in any of my sources was

Attramentum Vitriolum (Black vitriol), which lacks the central dot, and Auripigment (Arsenic Sulphide, literal translation is "gold coloured"), which lacks the central dot and is tilted to 45%

We can see here that the eye projects some sort of "red beam" from its... iris? I guess? which then connects into Markus'.

The red beam may relate back to the concept of the Empyrean. We've had our alchemy lessons, we've had latin lessons, time for a mythology lesson for an esotericism trifecta.

Beforehand, when I said that Empyreum means Heaven, I wasn't lying, just simplifying. The Empyrean, in ancient european myth, is the heavens beyond our terrestrial spheres; the empyrean referred to the spheres of existence permeated and constructed from, the element of Aether, the fifth element.

This may explain the symbol of the eye itself, having 5 nodes on a cross representing the 5 elements, but that's conjecture. The important part of this potential connection to the aether is the fact that, in the 5'th century, there was an alchemical theory of "Quintessence", being a similar conceptual "fifth element" of which the heavens were made of.

Quintessence in fact literally means 5th element. Quintessence is also present in World of Darkness lore:

in essence, in Mage the Ascension, Quintessence is basically the fabric of reality. The entire tapestry of reality, all things within, are made of quintessence.

I've already gone on too many tangents so i'm stopping myself from going deeper into Mage.

I can't be fucked looking for another one, also im 90% sure that i'd be barking up the wrong tree because I do not recognise those triangle ones.

Technically one could interpret the boxes with circles inside them as being the sign for urine.

***

Update because I'm dumb:

as people have pointed out, these symbols are Hunter marks, symbols used by and recognisable to Imbued (mildly supernatural hunters).

In my defence, I'm not a hunter, so I wouldn't know.

The three symbols seen are "imbued" (on the eye), Danger (the rectangle one) and "Puppet" (Triangle)

as was very predicted by ms WILD who was always wearing gloves.

also from the sheer brutality, the delirium symptoms, the pinning of blame on others, the antisocial personality, claw marks all around the arcanum, and complete lack of surprise at the reveal of vampires existing.

Foreshadowing certainly WAS a literary device-

also would?

in the ensuing fight, D is fairly easily overpowered, gains a large neck gash from claw marks, and cuts off matilda's left arm

Remold also shoots with his... cane gun? a phosphorus bullet. Phosphorus is known for like one main thing and it is that it burns like crazy, hence why "no vampire could survive that"

I don't think that the reactions of each cast member are meant to actually reflect their willpower scores, except for Git and Spit who totally fit willpower 1.

That being said, time to organise each reaction into the different delirium reactions/willpower's:

Note how Grimal is strong enough to scratch into the tiling of the walls out of sheer fright.

That being said, every character in this scene, including D and Remould (which is why I'm saying that this probably doesn't fully reflect accurate stats) takes little to no action for this first section.

Also, immediately after we see the two elders, both clearly afraid, but still maintaining composure and fighting smart, think back to what D said back in the first audiolog:

"Trust your wits, not your fists"

probably somewhere around 9-10 range. 10 is defined as no reaction, and both are clearly afraid of the situation, but no matter your will, a werewolf running at you is scary.

Willpower 4, the berzerk reaction. As D put it "some may attack with extreme vigour"

In this scene here, we can hear the wound of the knife hissing after it has cut: either this is the knife "enchanted with death magicks" from the Guy Chapman audiolog, or the knife is made of silver. Either way this is called aggravated damage. Unless they changed something in W5 i've not played it.

Also this is probably just like a moth spirit or something, potentially this could be that one auspice that allows you to transport something from the umbra at will? unlikely though

willpower 4, berzerk.

Willpower.... 10? I don't think that this was an uncalculated action, I just think Markus is bad at math and doesn't know the strength of a werewolf.

I mean he had some of the shortest time between sight and thought out action, so at the very least a 7 (afraid but rational).

Also STAKE JACKET IS THE BEST IDEA.

We can assume that these are the spirits that Tilda (who from this point forward I will refer to as Tl;dr) has gifts from. Can't say which gifts, hard to say most things about spirits in general, so yeah.

in Audiolog one, we discussed: Vampires/Ghouls (which we have fought and met) Werewolves (just now fighting) (specifically Black Shuck) Witches/mages (Potentially seen?) Ghosts (wraiths); (Potentially seen?).

The mention of wizards was a specific tale of a witch, which remains unseen, and the "ghost" was that one with the well.

This marks the first named foreshadowed character appearing except for the fiddler/monk at the end of episode one.

Willpower 4: berzerk.

seems the spirit's name is Jambles? even more terrifying, the spirit might be french.

#literally's ramblings #essays i wrote primarily while half asleep #Pedants overview #ogre poppenang #Hunter the Parenting #HTP #Youtube #ah yes #2000 words #about an episode that was probably not even 2000 words in script length #how lovely

61 notes · View notes

lesbiankimdahyun · 2 years ago

Note

Karina(g!p) meeting at a Halloween party(she’s dressed as a slutty vampire) and reader is dressed as an angel. They’ve been eyeing each other all night and eventually end up in the bathroom with reader bent over the sink and Karina fucking her from behind

happy halloween, anon!!

Corrupting an angel

2.6k words

CW: g!p, alcohol

[GP!Karina x F!Reader]

You could hear the steady pounding of bass from outside of the large brownstone apartment complex. There was no need to double check to make sure you had the right address— the music and shadows of partygoers in the fourth story windows confirmed you had arrived.

You hesitated for a moment, but then your roommate Ryujin tugged at your arm and you followed her up to the door. She hit the buzzer so you two could be let in, finally out of the cold, late autumn air.

As the two of you bounded up the steps, your nerves got the best of you.

“Ryujin, promise me you won’t abandon me in there?” you asked.

Your short-haired friend laughed. “Of course not,” she said, turning to smile reassuringly at you. “Don’t worry too much, you’ve actually met some of the people here! And I’ll introduce you to anyone you don’t know.”

Ryujin was right— once inside, you realized you did recognize a few faces. Her closest friends Lia, Yeji, Yuna and Chaeryeong were already there.

You couldn’t help but giggle at Lia’s costume. She was a big, bright red strawberry. She looked absolutely adorable, even when she accidentally bumped into people and walls. The rest were dressed as matching skeletons.

The two of you made your way over to the group, and before either one of you could ask, Chaeryeong sighed. “We tried to get Lia to go in on the skeleton costumes with us,” she said, “but she insisted on being a goofy, oversized strawberry.”

Lia rolled her eyes. She tried to cross her arms, but the costume was too bulky and she couldn’t. It only made her look cuter.

“Hey! I didn’t know the costume was going to be this big! Can we drop it already?”

The rest of the group broke out into conversation, but you couldn’t really focus on it, distracted by the sights of the party.

You’d forgotten to ask whose apartment this even was, but whoever was renting it, it looked stunning. The large space, complete with crown moulding, rounded arch hallways and exposed brick walls, was perfectly decorated for Halloween. Orange and purple string lights lined the perimeter of the ceiling, fake cobwebs were meticulously placed along the corners of windows, and there were jack-o-lanterns, real ones with tiny candles inside illuminating them, on the living room coffee table along with fake skull caps full of candy. Tall, skinny black candles lined bookshelves, a string of black paper bats shared wall space with fake, bloody claw marks running along them.

Lia bumped into you suddenly, bringing you back to earth.

“Sorry!” she said to you and the other girl she’d accidentally collided with.

You glanced over to see the other girl pat Lia’s costume reassuringly. She was dressed as a vampire. Not the Nosferatu kind, though. You felt a wave of warmth rush over you. She was hot, stupidly hot, as was her costume.

Your eyes wandered slowly over her deep red sequined corset and its revealingly low sweetheart neckline. A pair of black booty shorts covered hardly anything other than her ass, but the simple black cloak she wore over her corset helped a little. A pair of fishnets and knee high, lace up platform boots completed the look. The ends of her hair were dyed a similar deep red color, and her long acrylics were stunning– black coffin shaped nails for the occasion.

The vampire’s eyes only registered Lia for a fraction of a second. The next moment, they were on you.

You swallowed hard, quickly looking back up to meet her eye. Her gaze was intense, and so was the brief onceover she gave you before she finally turned around and walked back to her friend group without saying a word.

By the time you recovered from the vampire, the conversation happening around you had already picked back up.

“I’ll be right back,” you said to Ryujin, excusing yourself.

You made your way down the hall into the kitchen. Some of the drink options were Halloween themed, like the cauldrons full of spiked spider cider and dark purple witches brew punch, swirling with edible silver glitter. A few handles of hard liquor and mixers, as well as beer were available, but you weren’t really in the mood to taste your alcohol.

After pouring yourself a cup full of the witches brew punch, you paused for a moment to glance around at the rest of the people at the party.

The attendees had gone all out in their costumes, too. Ryujin had warned you beforehand that anyone who wasn’t in costume wouldn’t be let in, so as much as you didn’t care for dressing up, you had to admit, the costume rule made for an even better party. You hoped some of the more impressive costumes would distract from your own. You’d felt confident in it before you left, but now felt exposed.

It was Ryujin who suggested you go as an angel when you fretted about finding a costume. “Keep it simple,” she had said. “It’s just one color.”

“I don’t know,” you had said once you tried on the pieces she’d found for you. “This feels damn near like, genuinely sacrilegious.”

The halo headband was cute. It was the rest of your costume that definitely wouldn’t be allowed in any real church: white thigh high stockings with chunky white heels, white satin shorts, a matching satin halter top with a white mesh bell sleeve shrug over it, and a small pair of angel wings. Those were white too, of course.

Later, Ryujin, keeping her word, introduced you to a few of her other friends. All of them were pretty to begin with, but the fact that their costumes were a little tighter against their bodies made you unsure of where to look as you shyly said hi to a Wednesday Addams who went by Winter, a workout Barbie who introduced herself as NingNing, and a Spider-Girl named Giselle.

You had seen a fourth girl with them earlier, that incredibly hot vampire, actually, but now she was nowhere to be seen. Ugh. You craned your neck to look for her, hoping to be introduced, but you couldn’t find her.

Just as you and Ryujin had said bye to the other girls and turned around, you spotted her out of the corner of your eye, rejoining her friends. Damn.

You almost asked Ryujin to go back and introduce you. The punch was stronger than you thought it’d be, and you were beyond buzzed now, feeling a little more confident and sociable. You were watching the vampire flip her long, dark hair over one shoulder when Ryujin interrupted you.

“Hey, where did you get that punch?” Ryujin asked, flipping up her pirate’s eye patch for a moment to get a better look at it. “I gotta get rid of this shitty beer.”

“I can go get you some,” you said. “I need a refill anyway.”

In the kitchen, your back was turned to the rest of the party while you scooped up ladlefuls of punch for you and Ryujin. Suddenly you heard a voice behind you.

“How’d an angel like you wind up in such a sinful party?”

You were about to scoff at whoever had just spoken to you when you paused– it wasn’t a man’s voice. You were used to cocky, suggestive comments from men, but the voice that had just addressed you was feminine.

You turned around to see the girl you’d been glancing at all night long– the hot vampire.

“Wh-what?” Shit. You forgot to think about what you were going to say before turning around.

The vampire smirked, merely raising an eyebrow in response to your question. “Do I… know you?” she asked.

You shook your head. “I’m Ryujin’s roommate. I’m Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you,” the girl replied. “I’m Karina.”

“Karina,” you repeated with a little nod. “Nice to meet you, too. I like your costume,” you said.

The vampire’s smirk grew bigger. “I know you do,” she said. “Unless that wasn’t you leering at me earlier tonight?”

You blushed, eyes widening. “Oh, I- I’m sorry–”

Karina moved in, pressing herself against you lightly as she took your drink out of your hand and set it down on the countertop next to Ryujin’s. “It’s okay,” she said, taking your hand. “Can’t seem to keep my eyes off you, either.”

The next thing you knew, you were being pushed up against the bathroom sink with Karina’s lips kissing a trail down the back of your neck. Ryujin and the rest of the party had completely faded from your brain. You were soaked now, clit throbbing in anticipation.

The vampire looked up at you for a moment, making eye contact with you in the mirror before pulling your shorts and underwear down in one fell swoop. Your wings were the next to go, and she took a moment to admire you before continuing on.

Karina palmed your ass with one hand while she used her other to slide her shorts down, freeing her hardening cock.

She held your waist steady as she slipped it between your legs, rubbing her cock against your wet folds.

“A condom..?” she breathed, reaching up past you toward the medicine cabinet behind the large bathroom mirror.

“I-I’m on the pill,” you replied a little too eagerly. Karina let out an amused huff.

“Well then,” she said, bending you over farther, “be a good little lamb for me.”

The pet name and the sensation of her sliding into you made your legs nearly give out. She let you take a few moments to adjust to her. You hadn’t even gotten a good look at her cock but the way you pulsed around her let you know she was plenty big.

The vampire let out a soft moan.

“That’s it, there you go,” she cooed in your ear as she slid deeper inside you. You whimpered and she rewarded you with a kiss against your neck.

You felt every bit as good around her cock as she thought you would. Karina closed her eyes, lost for a moment in the pleasure she felt being sheathed inside your warm, wet pussy.

When you could finally let her move inside you, she started gently, her hands gripping your waist to support you. You were absolutely soaked, and the sounds of her thrusting became even more lewd as your wetness added to them.

“Fuck,” she groaned. The vampire picked up her pace and it left you nearly breathless, unable to do anything but take her pounding and let out small, humiliating repetitive cries with each stroke.

Your added slick allowed her to fuck you at an even faster pace. She leaned down over you, making you bend over further for her. At this new angle, you fell apart while she split you open.

Gone were your soft cries, replaced with more raw, desperate moans. She felt so good inside of you; it had been ages since you felt this full and sated.

Karina laughed as your cries grew louder. “Does it feel that good, angel? So good you want everyone to know how much you like being fucked right now?”

You could only moan in response, too focused on keeping the vampire inside of you to worry about the rest of your surroundings. You arched your back as much as you could, trying to entice her more.

It worked. “Jesus,” Karina murmured. “You look just as good as you feel…” her eyes closed for a moment, losing her pace. When she resumed though, you knew you were really in for it.

Karina’s thrusts became harsher, deeper, but also sloppier. She panted in your ear; her breath on your neck made you shiver.

“Gonna cum,” she grunted. “You feel too fucking good.”

“I-In me,” you pleaded, knowing you must’ve looked as desperate as you sounded. “You can cum in me.”

Karina looked up at your reflection, catching your eye in the mirror. “Yeah?” she asked. You gulped. Her eyes were wild with desire. You nodded, and when she grinned in response, it sent an excited chill down your spine.

The vampire took off again, plowing into you at a brutal, desperate pace that thrilled you.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” she cursed, and then her hips slammed against you the hardest they ever had. You gasped when you felt it— Karina spilling her load in you. She continued to fuck into you as she came, bringing you closer to reaching your own release.

Hearing your pants and whines get breathier, Karina snaked one hand around in front of you to tease your clit.

You cried out, eyes squeezing shut as her fingers and your body fumbled for a few moments, both of you trying to find just the right angle that would—

“Right there,” you rasped, your cunt clenching around her cock. “I’m gonna cum,” you cried, head tilting back a bit.

Karina tsked in response. While one hand continued to circle your soaked clit, she used her other to yank your hair, making you tilt your head back up to look at the two of you in the mirror. Her thrusting hips held you in place.

“Look at me when you cum,” she murmured, and you fought to hold her gaze. The moment you locked eyes with her, it sent you over the edge and you came around her.

A satisfied smile crossed her lips, and then she released her hold on you.

Catching your breath, the two of you stayed still for a minute until she could finally pull out.

Some of her load spilled out of you, splattering beneath you on the bathroom’s tiled floor.

You were slightly disappointed you couldn’t keep her full load in you, but Karina watched with great satisfaction. She gave your ass an appreciative slap, then squeezed your cheek in her hand.

The air was thick with more sexual tension as the two of you began to clean yourselves and the rest of the space up. The vampire helped you back into your costume, making sure your clothing was still in pristine condition.

You tried not to look, but couldn’t help yourself from sneaking a glance at Karina while she tucked her softening cock back into her shorts.

“Are you ready?” the vampire’s voice made you look up quickly.

“Yeah,” you said, not moving. Your nerves had returned. The music from the party outside was still just as loud, as were the conversations and laughter of partygoers, but you were anxious to see who was on the other side of the door– who, and how many, had heard you.

“Hey, relax,” Karina said, sensing your mood shift. “It’s my party, no one’s going to say anything.”

You looked up at her curiously. “Wait— so you live here?”

Karina unlocked the bathroom door and opened it. She led you out quickly.

“Yeah,” she said casually, keeping your attention on her and away from some of the people nearby who definitely knew what had just happened between the two of you in there. “It’s a four bedroom. Ryujin didn’t tell you?”

“N-no,” you stammered. You were going to say more but she was already leading you back to the main party space. Her warm hand held yours securely, but not tightly, as you weaved through the blur of people.

She dropped your hand shortly after. You looked down, wondering why, when a familiar voice called out.

“YN!” Ryujin said, approaching the two of you. “There you are!” Your roommate beamed at you, clearly having forgotten about the drink she asked you to get her. Instead, she held two tiny shot glasses in each hand. “Yeji and I were about to do some shots. I see you’ve met Karina.”

You blushed. “Uh, yeah,” was all you could manage.

“You didn’t tell me your roommate was so pretty, Ryujin,” the vampire said, stepping away. “I’m glad you came.” She winked at you, making your blush deepen. “See you around, angel.”

#aespa imagines #aespa x fem reader #anonymous #ask #answered #aespa smut

474 notes · View notes

the-crooked-library · 6 months ago

Note

I noticed something near the end of Dracula when Jonathan and Mina separate for a final time (so she can go to Dracula's castle), that a difference between Harker and Hutter is also near the end.

For context, several chapters earlier Jonathan gets two weapons “put these flowers round your neck”—here he handed to me a wreath of withered garlic blossoms—“for other enemies more mundane, this revolver and this knife;.

Then when Mina and Van Helsing are about to depart for their ride to the castle, Jonathan keeps the knife and gives the revolver to Mina. Even for me a large-bore revolver; Jonathan would not be happy unless I was armed like the rest.

I know the phallic analysis of the weapons in the book are overstated in scholarship but I think it's telling that Jonathan insists Mina to be armed with a big gun while he lets her go do what she wants without him. Thomas didn't arm her and likely wouldn't even it were suggested imo.

omg yes! That is definitely another detail that really stood out to me during my watch, and yet another reason I genuinely start getting annoyed whenever people conflate Thomas with Jonathan - because frankly, that is allowing Thomas to reap what Jonathan sowed, so to speak. I've seen a lot of people absolutely in love with him, and yet the traits they list as the reasons are none that he possesses; in fact, the great majority of them are in exact opposition to his canon personality, and this is one of them.

Don't get me wrong, I love Thomas as a character. I think he is quite sympathetic - and, on the Watsonian level, really trying his best; but at the same time, I think it is essential to acknowledge that he is deeply flawed, if only because on the Doylist level, these flaws are fundamental to his arc in the story. It is purely a question of structure and function; because, at the end of the day, he is a fictional character, and thus, a narrative component, rather than a person.

In this case, his choices prior to the vampire hunt provide the viewer with further evidence -> of an aspect of his characterization -> that acts as one of the driving forces behind the plot of Nosferatu. Specifically, he does not notice that Ellen is lying to him; he leaves her at home as he goes off to "fight"; he doesn't even consider arming her; and he does all these things because, even though he does care for Ellen, he never really thinks of her as a person.

Thomas doesn't notice that Ellen is lying, even though she is clearly nervous when she does it, because he doesn't know what she looks like when she's hiding something (I personally think it is because she masks around him, at least to some degree - throughout the film, he is uncomfortable every time she's honest). He doesn't bring her to the hunt because it doesn't occur to him that she could help with tracking down Orlok - despite him being aware now of her immense psychic abilities, despite Von Franz describing her as a native in a world he is only visiting. And, exactly as you said, he doesn't even think to leave her a weapon; because, even as he sets out on his "quest," even after she's told him of Orlok's obsession, even though the point of the hunt is apparently to "save" her, he doesn't consider the possibility of Orlok going after her.

Contrast that with Jonathan - who knows Mina so well that they can get concerned over three lines of writing, who works with Mina's brief psychic connection to Dracula in order to track him, and who arms Mina before the final fight, because he is not satisfied unless he can do everything in his power to ensure her safety. When it comes to their relationship, Mina's revolver, while not exactly phallic (seriously, why is that topic so overwrought?..), becomes a narrative symbol of his thoughtfulness.

The difference here is that, while Ellen is important to Thomas, this importance only extends insofar as she is his wife. He sees her as a responsibility, but never as herself; and, ultimately, he never actually considers her a factor that could conceivably affect his - or anyone's - decision-making. He plans their life without even asking what she wants from it, he neglects her emotional needs, and he leaves her like a sitting duck during the hunt, without a weapon or anyone to guard her. She continuously slips his mind, utterly inconsequential beyond whatever their surrounding society defines as her role and value; and Thomas, tragically, is unable to overcome this ingrained, rigid set of rules.

This is an essential aspect of his character - because, as stated previously, the plot wouldn't happen without it. If Thomas took Ellen's wants into consideration, he wouldn't have been so hell-bent on chasing a promotion, and he wouldn't have left her right after their honeymoon to go to another country, especially if she begged him to stay. If he knew her better, he would've picked up on the plan she made with Von Franz - or she would've told him!.. Most certainly, if he saw any real personhood in her, he wouldn't have dreamed of leaving her unarmed and undefended.

Nosferatu is about Ellen's continued systemic dehumanization. The point of the story is that every single human character contributes to it on some level, despite whatever love and best intentions they might have for her. It's about the inherent monstrousness of being othered by humanity, and Thomas is - inherently, narratively, crucially - human.

58 notes · View notes