#💀 —— ❛ the sound of the waves collide / music.

[cuntess-carmilla]

Goth aesthetic + music playlist series masterpost

For those interested in getting into goth music, I've built 9 playlists total with 15 songs each all surrounding common goth aesthetics so there's a bit of everything that tends to attract people to our subculture. Each playlist title links to its YouTube playlist.

The individual posts with the tracklists detailed are in this tag.

Trad goth 🦇 aesthetic and music

What started it all, straight out of the 1980s. Punk Rock gone spooky, androgynous, melancholic, experimental and often campy.

Lots of Post-Punk with a dash of Gothic Rock.

Featuring: Xmal Deutschland, Ausgang, Sisters of Mercy, Bauhaus, Blood & Roses, The Cure, Specimen, Play Dead, The Birthday Party, Skeletal Family, Sex Gang Children, Cocteau Twins, The Wake (UK), Virgin Prunes, Look Back in Anger.

Romantic goth 🌹 aesthetic and music

The exquisite agony of melancholy, the theater of grief, the elegance of a frail dying maiden and the intensity and beauty of all emotions.

Mostly Ethereal Wave, Darkwave and Gothic Rock.

Featuring: London After Midnight, Lacrimosa, Sopor Aeternus, Faith and the Muse, The Shroud, Mors Syphilitica, Lycia, Corpus Delicti, Requiem in White, Diva Destruction, Two Witches, Mephisto Walz, Die Laughing, The 69 Eyes, Witching Hour (UK).

Fetish goth 🖤 aesthetic and music

The sensuality of leather and latex, the bell-like sounds of chains, and the sweet cruelty of your master reflected in sensual synths or thrilling guitars.

Mainly Darkwave with some Gothic Rock and Post-Punk.

Featuring: Umbra et Imago, The Mission, The Eden House, Athamay, Bauhaus, Boy Harsher, Quasimodo, London After Midnight, Wisborg, Two Witches, Dark, Fields of the Nephilim, Pink Turns Blue, Her Despair, Merry's Funeral.

Vampire goth 🍷 aesthetic and music

Some launch themselves into their bloodlust with glee, some bemoan their damnation, but what truly matters is that they're hot either way.

Mainly Gothic Rock with some Darkwave and Post-Punk thrown in.

Featuring: Inkubus Sukkubus, Bauhaus, Blutengel, Two Witches, Haunt Me, The Damned, Sopor Aeternus, Immortalis Amor, Lestat, Gothic Sex, La Procesión de lo Infinito, Paralysed Age, Nosferatu, Selofan, Angels of Liberty.

Cyber goth ☢️ aesthetic and music

Cybernetic horror, machinery and humanity blurring boundaries, and a dark undeground floor to dance the futuristic dystopia away.

This one is nothing but synth-heavy Darkwave.

Featuring: Diary of Dreams, Light Asylum, Bedless Bones, Cold Cave, The Frozen Autumn, Collide, Two Witches, Hante., Android Lust, Diva Destruction, La Scaltra, Ego Likeness, FrightDoll, Neon Zoo, Boy Harsher.

Deathrock 💀 aesthetic and music

Goth's American sibling! If Post-Punk is gloomy and eerie, Deathrock is brooding and spooky. If Gothic Rock is vampires and witches, Deathrock is zombies and werewolves.

This playlist is all Deathrock.

Featuring: Chants of Maldoror, Bloody Dead and Sexy, Eat Your Make-Up, Morticia, Bat Nouveau, Phaidia, Cinema Strange, The Naked and the Dead, Requiem in White, Cemetery, 45 Grave, The Cemetary Girlz, Katzenjammer Kabarett, Spiritual Bats, †13th Moon†.

Kinder goth 🍬 aesthetic and music

What's creepier than the sound of a haunted music box and the echo of laugh of a child? Cuteness and goth are not mutually exclusive, this style proves it.

Ethereal Wave, Darkwave and Post-Punk more or less on equal meassure.

Featuring: The Cure, Switchblade Symphony, Faith and the Muse, Bella Lune, binzatina, The Birthday Party, Lycia, Cinema Strange, Virgine Dramatica, Sopor Aeternus, Collide, Mors Syphilitica, Katzenjammer Kabarett, Drab Majesty, SRSQ.

Witchy goth 🎃 aesthetic and music

The figure of the witch has always been of interest to goths; be it due to us having a large neo-pagan population, our fascination with the occult, or simply sympathy for the witch.

A balanced combination of Gothic Rock, Ethereal Wave and Darkwave.

Featuring: Inkubus Sukkubus, Faith and the Muse, Boy Harsher, Nosferatu, Pretentious, Moi?, Switchblade Symphony, Sopor Aeternus, La Scaltra, Two Witches, Die Laughing, Lycia, Rosetta Stone, Chants of Maldoror, Witching Hour UK, The Mission.

Macabre goth ⚰️ aesthetic and music

Not all goths are obsssed with death... But these ones are! Isn't that the reasonable end to dark romance? The eternity of death, the painlessness of death, the mystery of what's beyond it.

A well balanced mix of Ethereal Wave, Gothic Rock, Darkwave and Deathrock.

Featuring: Sopor Aeternus, Angels of Liberty, A Covenant of Thorns, This Burning Effigy, Paralysed Age, Ghosting, Dead Souls Rising, Soror Dolorosa, Chants of Maldoror, Faith and the Muse, Witching Hour UK, Cinema Strange, Shadow Project, Lestat, Twin Tribes.

[boytouya]

—Only Yesterday

pairing: aizawa shouta x gn!reader

w.count: 2k+

warnings: none!

a/n: HAPPY BIRTHDAY AIZAWAAA <33 there’s like…weird sexual tension going on near the end idk why i kinda wrote aizawa like a hoe but. takes one to know one ig. shoutout to @mwilkrot for helping me pick out cat names💀

The café smells reminiscent of antiseptic and citrus as you wipe down the wooden tables for the hundredth time tonight, the damp, white cloth pruning up your fingers as flick your wrist in swift and circular motions across the table. It picks up nothing but air, all the crumbs and fragments left behind by your customers are now buried deep within the garbage dumpster out back.

All is quiet, besides the low hum of the central heat circulating through the establishment air. The vents waft a gentle wave of warm chocolate and even warmer (caffeinated) drinks. If it weren’t for the cluster of cats padding throughout the room, you’d be left in a room quiet enough to hear your own breath; to hear your own thoughts. And, perhaps, that was why you kept yourself busy with empty booths.

Purresent-Meow howls behind you, his large paws colliding with the hardwood floor in a quick, blaring, rush. Presumably off to find Erasercat, the tuxedo cat with tired eyes and an irrevocably lazy personality. It’s almost laughable, the energetic Tabby cat appearing right as the closing host articulates his goodbyes, transitioning the music playing from your speakers to ‘Put Your Hands Up Radio,’ starring Present Mic himself.

You huff, eyes flickering to meet your very own reflection in the window. Your gaze sweeps across your features, disappointed and maliciously calculating as air expels from your lips in the form of a long, tired sigh. You tap your finger against the polished glass, poking your mirrored image directly on the forehead.

Before a long, hard day of unrelenting customer service topples down on your frail wellbeing, you pull yourself off the table, your back creaking with premature age and strain. Your warm palms support most of your weight until you stand upright, passerbys glancing through the windows.

It’s ten till twelve, and you’re just about ready to dim the lights of the store, when the door chimes in greeting. Beneath heavy boots and purring cats, you hear crickets orchestrating for fellow creatures of the night. Central speakers crackle quietly, as a vaguely familiar voice sounds at the gradual end of the song bouncing off the walls of your café.

“This next song is for a very special friend of mine..”

Your heart leaps to your throat, thumping against your vocal cords as you stumble for something— anything, to say to the man gazing at you with dark eyes. From where you stand, glued to the side of a booth, you can smell ash and chilly November wind clinging to his dark clothes. His cheeks are a splotchy pink, but the grey scarf around his neck covers most of his face.

Even then, he’s undeniably Eraserhead.

“…Who’s probably out on patrol right now! Either way, it’s just about his birthday, so—”

His goggles are strewn across his shoulder, bright and almost as eccentric as the cat running over to meet him. Though expressionless, he still crouches down to offer his hand— and Purresent-Meow nips at his calloused fingers happily. There’s a slight tremor racking his hands, and you figure his costume is no match for the cold, autumn air.

“Hi! Welcome to Cuppla Kittens, what can I get you, Sir?” You swallow the lump in your throat, alternating your weight from one foot to the other. Your nerves are palpable, but the hero says nothing.

Instead, he shuffles to the small lockers located adjacent to the front door, and slips on fresh shoe covers. Most customers stay long enough to pick up their orders, with the occasional parent taking their child out for a treat. Even then, they use the recyclable coverings sparingly, which leaves you to clean the mess left behind.

His legs ache with fatigue as he makes his way to the front counter, quietly placing his feet on the hardwood flooring of the café, careful not to disturb the cats lounging around. The kitten-shaped floor mat groans beneath him. His clothed feet barely reach above the ground, dragging lazily beneath his unsupported weight until he, finally, leans against the showcase glass.

“What’s this one?” He asks, characteristically cautious as he points to the last slice of strawberry shortcake displayed next to an array of cheesecakes. It sounds much more like a statement than a question, but it seems like that’s just how the professional speaks.

With the overwhelming desire to release the last amounts of kinesthetic energy coursing through your body, you lean towards the man with your best retail smile. Your next choice of words clumsily wobble across your tongue, and he doesn’t seem like the owner of a sweet-tooth, but you indulge him nonetheless, “Strawberry shortcake, Sir.”

He grunts in acknowledgment, watching a gangly cat stretch out it's impossibly long limbs with a quiet yawn through his peripherals. All Meow scurries onward on his old paws, swiping his tongue over his nose and across his long whiskers.

Truly looking at Eraserhead, now, you can see the glint of amusement in his dry eyes. His gaze is downcast, his features completely relaxed with every rise and fall of his broad shoulders. His eyelashes are fluffy and long, batting against his cheek as he blinks down at the old, yellow cat.

“That’s All Meow.” You interject, soaking in the quiet huff of a laugh he responds with. His long, dark bundles of hair sway gently, and you wonder if it tickles the stubble on his cheek.

Maybe he’s ticklish. Your finger twitches in remonstration as you consider brushing his hair away from his face, tucking the long strands behind his ear to get a good look at his face.

“Give me your biggest cup of coffee. Black,” The bass of his tired voice snaps you back to reality as you blink away the decadent fog clouding your judgement a few seconds ago. You nod wordlessly, heading back to the pre-stocked coffee maker with extra energy in your steps. Only distantly, he grumbles, “Thank you.”

As you wait for the steaming liquid to fill the custom, printed coffee cup— the tallest one you serve— you watch Eraserhead lift his gaze to read the menu. Funnily, up close you hadn’t noticed, but his dark circles seem to rival the black, liquid death pouring itself into the sustainable cup. It’s almost comical, the tall man squinting up at a cat themed menu while the café’s residents rub their fur against his black pants.

Placing the lid over a piping cup of coffee, your other hand grasps at a few reusable straws. Every large drink comes with a free sweet, or, at least, if you’re Eraserhead it does.

“Aaaand..the clock strikes twelve! Happy Birthday, Shouta!” The stereo crackles at the shrill voice violating the café walls. Eraserhead stills as you walk forward, grasping his drink with careful hands. You look up at him with a wobbly smile, lifting the drink towards your face and back down. He doesn’t vociferate (not that he’s known to), so you take it as a good sign.

His fingertips brush against your knuckles, warm and inviting— but rough and tired from years of constructed experience and battle.

“…In a few, we’ll be taking a few calls to congratulate you on your next big milestone!”

“Thanks.” He grumbles, shuffling over to the nearest booth with his large cup of coffee in hand. In his own, it appears much smaller than it actually is, his large fingers wrapping around the cup as he sinks into a velvety seat. Despite the concerningly large cup of bitter coffee, the pro-hero remains fatigued as his head slowly droops into his palm.

His eyes, unbearably dry and strained, struggle to adjust to the warm, dim lighting of the café. And, before he knows it, the gradual rise and fall of his chest slows as he falls asleep.

He dreams of kind smiles and jumbled up words, the gentle collision of his hand against yours. And, usually, the underground hero would pull his hand aside, move back to his original spot or even blush from the base of his neck, but picturing the overwhelming warmth of your skin against his is, undeniably, surreal and compelling, even in his own dreams. Maybe, just maybe, he could get lost in it.

“…Eraserhead? Sir? Aizawa?” You gently shake his shoulder, placing a plated cupcake alongside his drink. It’s decorated to look like a cat, black and white, with yellow eyes and matching goggles made from fondant.

He blinks awake rapidly, dark eyes shifting to a striking shade of yellow as he looks up at you. The very subject of his dream. The second your hands shoot away from the porcelain plate and upwards in surrender, he registers his surroundings.

“Sorry.” He blinks, genuinely apologetic as he adjusts his seating position. The faux-leather he sits on creaks beneath his weight, and Aizawa, once again, finds himself sinking into the booth. He tears his gaze away from your all too sympathetic smile, and settles on the cupcake in front of him.

There’s a cheap candle towering over whipped frosting, leaning dangerously close in Shouta’s direction.

“I don’t mind, really,” You lean against the seat across the hero, bending over with a gently used lighter. He makes no move to stop you, watching as your hands ignite the lighter with a gentle flick of your fingers. “Happens to the best of us… Anyway… Happy birthday!”

Aizawa watches quietly, as the smell of melting wax wafts throughout the café and jostles the cat (Erasercat) sleeping in his lap— whenever he got there. His eyes close, aiding the burn beneath his eyelids for just a moment, as he leans toward the candle and blows it out. He can smell the burning wic, and it’s pleasant. It reminds him of home.

It reminds him of freshly washed blankets, that still retain heat from their recent round in the drier. Blankets he sleeps under, a lonely soul that’d much rather be alone with someone else; alone together.

When he opens his eyes, and only then, he realizes you’ve been singing ��Happy Birthday’ to him the entire time, under your breath as you watch candle smoke swirl throughout the atmosphere. It seems he can’t help but embrace the small, fond smile that graces his lips shortly after realizing.

“What’d you wish for?” You ask, now seated across from him. Your voice seems much softer, waterlogged with candle wax and birthday wishes.

“If I tell you,” He explains, breaking apart the cupcake into halves, failing to break eye contact. It seems the entirety of his life has been full of surprises, most unpleasant— but none like this. He grabs a napkin, wiping his frosted fingers across the gentle surface, gentle enough to give you goosebumps. “It won’t come true, will it?”

Shouta watches your eyes flutter as you process the image in front of you, seemingly breaking it down into savory slivers of mental fragments. And, for the first time in his life, hopes he’s someone worth remembering.

He listens to you hum in response, a symphony to his ears, as you shift in your seat. Picking up his half of the cupcake, he pulls out the candle and places it back on the small plate with tender movements. The silent encouragement leads your own hand forward, picking up your half with some sort of tranquility that wasn’t there before.

“Wouldn’t you rather speak it out into existence?” You ask, occupying yourself with the ridged cupcake rapper. as if it’s the most intriguing thing you've seen tonight.

That earns a quiet laugh, Shouta— the undeniably logical man, entertaining the idea of manifestation and birthday wishes. He shakes his head, sinking his teeth into the bouncy pastry. “I won’t need to. I think I’m pretty lucky with this one.”

WANNA BE PART OF MY TAGLIST?

taglist:

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