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shookspearewrites · 2 years

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Thank you for your ask, anon my duckling! This was so nice to write, oddly enough, idk just thinking about how the vamps would positively reinforce their MC makes me so happy eee ^^

- JJ x

~~~~~~~~~~

Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart:

MC played the ivory keys of the piano expertly, deft fingers flitting with perfect execution across the keys without error. They grinned as their hands danced along the instrument, making beautiful music that rung gloriously around the music room and out of the ajar door and into the hallway where it caught the attention of their boyfriend who paused in his tracks to listen before stepping into the music room,

“Sonata in C is for four hands, why are you playing it alone?” Mozart’s clear voice cut through the gentle twinkling of the piano, startling MC who fumbled over the keys and pressed down haphazardly in shock, letting an unpleasant array of dissonant notes sound out. MC looked almost guilty as their genius composer of a boyfriend stared at them with a mixture of his regular cool blankness and curiosity, scrambling to pick themselves up off the piano stool as heat rose pink on their cheeks, “Don’t run away.” The vampire’s tone was beautifully commanding, making MC sit back down on the stool without a second thought, albeit their embarrassment which Mozart found rather adorable as he sat himself beside his lover. He quirked an eyebrow at the lack of sheet music on the music shelf, “Playing from memory? Impressive.”

MC averted their gaze to the piano pedals, embarrassed that their boyfriend, the Mozart, had caught them playing music that he himself had written, and fidgeted a little in their seat next to him, “I’m not as good as you.” MC’s voice was timid and quiet, their eyes tinged with sadness which made Wolfgang frown deeply and take their chin between thumb and forefinger,

“That’s not a reason to discredit yourself, Liebling. You play exceptionally.” Mozart’s violet eyes were bright with affection and truth as he smiled at his love gently before placing a soft kiss to their cheek and placing his fingers on the keys elegantly, “Now, no hiding your talents from me anymore, Liebchen. Let’s play something together.”

Isaac Newton:

Isaac frowned at the endless pool of papers on his desk and the floor surrounding him, pushing his glasses up as he examined a page of equations for seemingly the hundredth time and grumbling at his own handwriting. He didn’t bother looking up at the door when he heard a knock from the other side of the wood, “Come in.”

“I brought you your lunch, professor,” MC smiled softly as they pushed the door open with their hip, their hands both busy with holding the tray of sandwiches, rouge and tea. Isaac felt his cheeks flush with heat at the title his lover used for him, a blush that only got deeper when he glanced up to see their pretty smile.

“You know you can just call me ‘Isaac’. You’re my partner, not my student.” The physicist's tight shoulders relaxed slightly when he felt MC’s careful hands gently rubbing out the tense knots underneath his skin, and he sighed softly, “I can’t seem to get these equations to make sense. It should be simple, I just can’t work out which of these calculations is throwing it off.” Isaac handed his lover the sheet he’d been pouring over for the past few hours while he reached for one of the small bottles of rouge they’d brought for him, taking a little swig before he began to eat his lunch.

MC stared at the numbers for a minute in silence, feeling Isaac’s dusty pink eyes on their face inquisitively when they spoke, “I see what you’ve done.” They took a pen from the desk and placed the page in front of Isaac, pointing to one equation with the nib of the pen, “The square root of 1018 is 31.9031122671, you’ve just missed out a 2 here in the middle.” MC scribbled a 2 in the correct place and grinned as Isaac took the pen from their hand gently and thusly corrected the rest of the maths on the page, his eyes wide when he looked up at them in shock,

“How on earth did you spot that?” There was a upturn to the corners of his lips as MC just shrugged a little and turned to leave, but Isaac caught their wrist and pulled them into a an uncharacteristically enthusiastic hug, “Perhaps I should have you check all of my work from now on.”

Arthur Conan Doyle:

Arthur smiled softly to himself as he scanned through the scrawled little story in MC’s notebook that had been left open on his desk, his eyes bright with intrigue and curiosity as he read, “You devilish little thing, keeping your brilliance from me.” The vampire was drawn from his entrancement from MC’s story by the sound of MC themselves at door, stuttering as they dropped the basket of laundry they were carrying, “Oh, afternoon, luv.”

“Arthur, you found my book-” MC blushed deeply as they rushed over to their boyfriend and tried to pry the notebook from his hands, whining when he held it above their head - just high enough so that they couldn’t reach it - “C’mon, give it back! Its not like its any good.”

“Are you joking, poppet? This writing is superb!” Arthur’s genuine grin faltered and fell to a frown when he noticed the sour look on his darling’s face, “D-do you not believe me?” His eyebrows curved downward in sadness and his heart beat thick with distress when he noticed the completely blue expression that MC wore, almost like they were about to cry, “MC, I’m telling the truth, this story is brilliant.” The author smiled softly at MC, pinching their cheek affectionately and breaking out into a grin when they shot him a small, sad smile back, “There’s that beautiful smile that I love.”

“I’ll never be as good as you though, Artie,” MC shrugged, sighing softly and turning to leave, frowning at Arthur when he rushed past them and closed the door, standing in the way, “Sebas will kill me if I don’t get back to work soon.”

“I think not, luv,” Arthur smirked when MC looked at him questioningly before he ushered them over to the chaise lounge only to pepper their cheeks with kisses, his grin only growing when MC began to giggle and blush, a genuine smile on their lips to replace the sad one they’d worn minutes earlier, “Now I want to hear all about your writing - no ‘ifs’, ‘ands’ or ‘buts’, alright?”

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ragfam · 1 year

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After pic soon xx

#ikemen vampire #ikevam #ikevamp #ikevam arthur #arthur conan doyle #ikevamp theodorus #theodorus van gogh #ikevamp dazai #osamu dazai #ikevamp jean #jean d'arc #ikevamp isaac #isaac newton #ragart

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weird-profiterole · 1 year

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~An old drawing I forgot to post~

Don't repost, only reblog

#ikemen vampire #cybird #ikemen series #cybird ikemen #ikevam #ikevamp #otome #otome game #ikemen #cybird otome #ikevam arthur #ikevamp arthur #ikemen arthur #ikemen vampire arthur

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ifthiswingscouldfly · 2 years

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I don't know how to describe this but it is definitely EPIC🔥❤.

Credit to @ Cybired

Pinterest @ danysakamaki @ Anastasialeonardodavinci

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp arthur #ikemen arthur #ikevam arthur

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nan-chi · 2 years

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Yeah I wonder what kind of gift is best for Arthur ☺

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp arthur #ikevam arthur #ikemenseries

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lorei-writes · 10 months

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The Doors that Connect & Divide

Entrance: Arthur

Arthur x Reader Thriller Bookshop AU Magic AU Summary: A mist envelops your mind, your feet leading you down an unfamiliar path, all until you find yourself in front of a certain door. Its pull is near magnetic. What exactly have you done? Why do these men seem to know you? And most importantly: how to stop it? Only you can find the answers. Word Count Estimate: 1.4k Masterlist

My opener for Different Universe, Same Love 2 CCC by @xxsycamore & @queengiuliettafirstlady , using Day 4 and Day 6 prompts :)

First of many, I hope, but more on that here.

Content Warnings: blood

The mist from within your mind extends beyond the borders of illusory to become tangible, ragged shawl of heavy moisture reaching to embrace you by the waist. Your legs walk, although you cannot say you are aware of the act – your feet act of their own accord, treading cautiously over the wet cobblestone road, the three of them old acquaintances. Perhaps it is not their first independent escapade, a night spent exploring places that should not be explored. You do not know. You cannot know and you cannot find out. Your head floats in the greyish white, the only sound the clacking of your heels, the only sight that yellow light… It calls you, with the allure flame poses to a moth.

You stop at the threshold of what could be a house, a sole lit lantern the guard that watches your back. Wind raises goosebumps over your arms, a bronze trade sign shivering alongside you, its otherwise silent voice thundering complaints above your head. You turn your face towards it. A book and a pen, the sharp nib stabbed cleanly trough the cover. Your eyes narrow as you follow the embossed path of drops spilling down its spine. Unusual, you remark in your mind – but so your thoughts stop as your hand takes command. The door creaks open. Your feet step forward, despite any concerns you may have.

The inside of – what presumably is – the bookshop is dim, a lone candle sitting on top of a dusty counter, to the right of a hefty chunk of brass that is the cash register. You steal a glance at the long rows of shelves lining the red brick walls. Christie, you read, And Then There Were None. A chill runs down your spine. This book does not exactly whet your appetite, no, so you move further inside. The compulsion to explore is stronger than your desire to turn around… Whatever it is that you may be searching for, you are certain it is there, yours and merely waiting to be found.

Poe.

Mróz.

Nesbø.

As far as you can see, it is a mystery chasing a mystery, stories of crimes big and small residing over the shelves indiscriminately. A stolen fortune for adventure, murdered lover in romance section, monographs on analysing different types of cigar dusts as science – none, however, seem quite right. None until you can feel the hot breath spill against the shell of your ear, from behind.

“I’m afraid we do not sell any stories of Sherlock Holmes’ adventures, Ma’am,” a man whispers, a touch of mischief and promise colouring each of his words. “If that is what you’re looking for, of course.”

You spin on your heel, searching his face with bewilderment; he is handsome, that fellow, with tousled hair just short of black falling into his cerulean eyes. The collar of his white shirt has been loosened by a button, its sleeves have been rolled up – a worker, or so you’d like to think, but… He smiles at you that cheeky, cheeky smile, as if compelling you to look at him, your gaze setting over his cupid bow. You cannot focus, not now. The air is electric, causing your ears to buzz…

“Oh,” you let out, not too sure what else you could say. The guess, indeed, seems to have been correct, or as close to correct one as it could get. “That’s… a shame, really. Sir…?”

“Arthur. For you, there’s no need for formalities, luv.”

Your heart pangs.

Arthur takes a step towards you.

“Shall we play our game again?”

Your brows furrow as you attempt to move away. However, it is as if the shelves have slithered across walls the moment you took your eyes off them, a barrier constructed of intricately bound volumes and oak wood pushing at your back.

“I don’t understand, Sir. I don’t believe we have ever met before,” you bargain, hands hurriedly searching for anything, anything that you could use to ward him off. Your fingers slide across covers, nails clawing into leather spines – they refuse to budge, however, even as they help themselves to your blood. Arthur stares transfixed at the crimson stains, his pupils consuming nearly the entirety of his irises. He swallows thickly.

“You never do, darling. But it doesn’t stop you from coming back, does it?” he says, his voice coming out in a strained, breathy rasp. The tip of his finger taps against the mole on his chin, his throat bobbing as saliva is forced down its length. “You don’t remember how you got here nor where this here is, and by Jove, judging by your face just now, you don’t have the foggiest what you’re looking for either.

“But, that’s why we play, no?” Arthur continues, now with more ease. He rests his hands on his hips, drumming out an imaginary melody audible just for his ears. Tendons raise his skin with each drawn out note, the motion gradually turning rigid, as if he had to hold himself back. “So, let’s begin. And if you win? I’ll tell you a thing or two.”

The space between you is closed in one long stride of his legs. Arthur’s touch burns as his fingers curl around your wrist, as hot and unrelenting as a branding iron. You wonder, how come a human can be so warm, but your attention is stolen soon enough. You stare into his eyes, each a bottomless pit hidden below ocean waves. You may struggle to look away, both terrified and mesmerised by the promises lying in their depths, but your will is too weak to break his spell…

Arthur rests one of his arms next to your head. The room turns. The wall is now the floor, books just silently staring at your from above. Not a volume leaves its place in the rank, all defying gravity through perfect stagnation.

“You’re the pure-hearted sweetheart, the very apple of our community’s eye. A hard worker, so very honest and willing to give everybody a second chance,” Arthur narrates. The corners of his lips are upturned, although the expression hardly matches the threat, the warning, that lurks just behind his lashes. “And I’m one of the many poor sods who fell in love with you.

“But it was never real love, you see,” he picks up immediately, his breath hot on your cheeks as he leans into you. “It couldn’t be. We were literal words apart. But, ha, something happened between all of us. Something so frightening you could only run…” he trails off, the very tips of his unusually long canines pressing into his lower lip. “And run you did, oh so, so fast. You didn’t want to ever look back, but you had no choice…” he trails off to muffle the desperation with a choked-down laugh. “The question is: why?”

“Why?” you stutter out, your throat tying itself into a tight knot, larynx folding over itself just to squeeze through the thus created loop.

“Why would it all not be enough for somebody as beloved as you?” The remnants of Arthur’s smile fall to pieces. Pain flares and fades from his features as he fights to compose himself, his brows twitching and eyelids shutting despite his best attempts. His jaw clenches and his body trembles, shakes. His grip on your wrist tightens as if you could indeed escape the moment he stopped being cautious. You yelp, the scalding heat eating at your skin with newly discovered ferocity.

“I don’t know!” you shout, kicking at his legs.

“Of course, you don’t,” Arthur grinds through gritted teeth, betrayed and hurt, but not enraged. “And that��s why you can’t win this game.”

Arthur lets go of your hand – and somehow, you are drawn towards the edge of this world and fall. The air erupts with the flutter of not-quite-wings, walls being minced to naught. Your body goes limp, submerged in a mist of red dust and nameless spines filled with nothing but blank pages… And perhaps your purpose is to get lost between them, for your mind turns itself just as empty. It’s still too early to despair, however. It’s been only one game, the first of many… So rest, rest in this somewhere that is nowhere to be found, until you meet with the next of the faithful lovers you have cursed.

Tag List: @lancelotscloak @violettduchess @pathogenic @fang-and-feather @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @tele86

#arthur conan doyle #ikevamp arthur #ikevam arthur #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp #ikevam #ikemen vampire #ikemen series #different universe same love ccc

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sevenai · 1 year

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dazai: do you think that if a coconut dropped on your head instead, you still would have figured out gravity?

isaac: that’s not how-

arthur: dazai he would’ve been dead!!

dazai: you’re right how insensitive of me.

isaac: …i wish it WAS a coconut.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen series #otome #cybird ikemen #ikemen cybird #ikevam arthur #ikevam isaac #Ikevam dazai #ikevamp arthur #Ikevamp dazai #ikevamp isaac

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krmdoodles · 1 year

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I had to 😋

#cybird #ikemen series #ikeseries #ikevam arthur #ikevamp #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp theo #ikemen vampire #ikemen vampire fanart

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sortaotaku · 1 year

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Dine on Desire Gacha: Arthur - Where to Go

Had another good drawing on one of my alt accounts! I would’ve wanted Vincent if I had a choice but this was my second choice!

#cybird #ikevam #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevam arthur #arthur conan doyle #card gacha

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iphigeniainaulis · 2 years

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Summary: nothing important, just my personal opinion on the symbolism of eyes, accessories and the Moon in Ikevamp

Warnings: minor spoilers for all routes, mild spoilers for Shakespeare and Faust

I just want to say that Ikevamp is probably one of the best otome games in terms of character design. So many tiny details, and the more you read, the more hints you actually find.

Let's take, for example, Shakespeare. The Act 1 suggests that the Bard of Avon is the main villain of the story. He knows about the revival of the Duke of Wellington and Antonio Salieri, plays a major role in Vincent and MC’s separation, helps Gauguin to bring Theo to the cliff where they play cops and robbers and just acts suspicious in Leo’s route. Many routes include this chapter where Comte rushes to Will’s private villa and asks whether he is behind the drama with historical figures being brought back to life.

However, Act 2 slowly but gradually dents our confidence. Here we get a chance to meet with the mysterious ‘shade’ in church and find out that during all this time Will has been a double agent. As the story unfolds, Shakespeare’s portrayal also begins to change, especially in terms of his attitude towards Vlad’s ambitions and methods used to achieve them. William from Act 1 acts like a mad genius who is in desperate need of a tragedy that can move everyone's heart, and he won’t hesitate to do everything he can to create his masterpiece. But Will in Act 2 reveals the duality of his soul, showing us that behind that mask of evil goodness there is room for fears, questions doubting the fundamentals of his lord’s moral views and actions Will has to perform himself as his agent on the way to building ‘a perfect future’. In Jean’s route, for example, William is genuinely frightened with Vlad using his power to control Gilles de Rais’s mind, driving the former solder to the point of madness, and Dazai’s route proves that this feeling of pure horror further leads to triggering Will’s psychological trauma as he receives the greater vampire’s ‘gift’. Shakespeare’s own route puts an end to Will’s moral searches, giving an answer regarding what side the writer chooses to be on.

The looks and costumes help us to follow the character’s story. The most catching part of Will’s appearance seems to be his famous heterochromia, the symbolism of which has been probably discussed earlier, so I'll point at the key moments. The bard’s right eye is the color of gold while his left eye is crimson red. And for a good reason.

The red color is considered to be polysemantic. In some cultures it is used to describe love, energy and the welcoming heat of fire, in others — it stands for blood which reminds of wars, danger and violence. There is, however, one thing that unites all these feelings, and it is called passion. Passion can give us energy and strength to move forward, but it can also blind us with anger and jealousy.

Shakespeare is blind both physically and metaphorically. His red eye is blurry with blood as a result of a childhood’s disease, thus he can’t see anything with it. At the same time, William’s mind is obnubilated with the fear of being not good enough — which is basically the main symptom of the impostor syndrome, hence his desire to write the best tragedy possible in order to prove everyone, himself included, that he does have the talent many praise him for.

The other eye is golden. Here my guess is that this color is mentioned as the opposite to the darkness caused by William’s half-blindness. Golden is another word for ‘light’ desired by Shakespeare’s kind side. This bright side of him makes Shakespeare cherish and enjoy his friendship with Vincent (though it still doesn't prevent him from using the painter as the main source of information coming from the mansion). This kindness dictates Will to help MC when she is attacked by those bastards in the first chapters of his own route. And this very gentleness of his heart is a driving force for his inner protest to Vlad’s wish to kidnap MC in Comte’s route. As you remember, Shakespeare obeyed his lord’s command only under the brainwashing spells and later expressed sincere regrets regarding not being able to stop the pureblood.

The combination of good and evil, red and golden is an allusion to William's connection with both Vlad (whose eyes resemble crimson moon) and Comte (in the prologue MC describes his gaze as ‘spun gold’).

Why do I mention the character’s costume at the beginning? Because it enables us to answer what side Will is on even without reading his story.

If we look at the attire of the Evil Trio, we can actually see that everyone wears a small crescent moon shaped brooch — a particular sign of belonging to their secret community.

William doesn't have one.

🌙

This is where I was originally planning to stop. In spite of it, I got really interested in the meaning behind those brooches, so I decided to delve a little bit deeper. Again, these are only my own speculations. Probably, Vlad’s route contains the explanation, and I'm dumb. But I haven’t read it yet, so let’s continue.

In general, we can analyze the symbolism behind the crescent moon in two different ways, relying on our knowledge of either mythology or heraldry.

The crescent symbol has been used in various legends as a divine attribute. In Ancient Greek and Roman mythology the crescent moon is said to represent Selene/Luna, lunar goddess, and some stories suggest that the curves of the crescent shape remind the bow used by Diana, the goddess of hunt. In ancient Egypt people honored the moon god Khonsu whose name can be translated as ‘a traveler’ — a pretty interesting coincidence, considering Vlad’s abilities to travel through times and spaces as an immortal vampire and by using the door. Thus, the crescent shaped brooch may point at the pureblood’s divine origins, explaining on of the reasons why other immortals call him ‘the son of God’.

On the other hand, the brooch can be a reference to Vlad’s homeland.

This picture illustrates the coat-of-arms of the Hunyadi family from which, according to some historians, comes the coat-of-arms of Wallachia, the region ruled by the House of Draculesti. A black raven is depicted in the center with a ring in its beak. Later on, the Hunyadi coat-of-arms was added with the image of the crescent in the top right.

This tradition was further fixed during the reign of Mircea I, the grandfather of Vlad the Impaler, though it slightly differed from the original image as we can see the cross occurring in the central part of Mircea’s seal.

The same image was on the seal of Radu IV, Vlad’s nephew, with the moon replaced to the left.

Not only that, during the period when Vlad was the Voivode of Wallachia he ordered to mint new trade coins. Up until today only two such coins were described in Romanian numismatic papers. This is one of them with the image of Vlad’s coat-of-arms inside the inner linear circle. Inside the first field there is a waxing half moon and a six ray star below it.

Curious as it is, if we overlay the shapes of a moon and a cross one another, we’ll get the image most close to the original version of the Trio’s brooch.

Nevertheless, I wouldn't dismiss the third idea that the crescent brooch represents fate that brought everyone together in the XIX century.

To begin with, the moon plays several roles in the game. Visibly, it acts as a mirror reflecting MC’s feelings and inner thoughts. The prologue shows how much she is frightened of the sudden changes in her life and the prospect of not being able to go back home. XIXth century France is dangerous, and this specific view of the world is emphasized with the nature descriptions. That's why in Arthur’s route the crescent moon is written as a ‘gibbering madman’s smile in the dark sky’, in Vincent's route — as a ‘mocking grin’ fueling MC’s anxiety.

The Moon in Ikevamp universe, however, is often described as a silent embodiment of fate, the theme of which runs through the story like a golden thread. The crescent moon takes the role of a powerful force, guiding MC through the door (in Isaac’s route MC even asks herself, 'Had that moon guided me? Was I under its sway?'), dominating behind the walls of the Musee du Louvre (in Leonardo’s route MC thinks, ‘I wound up in an eventime world ruled by a crescent moon’).

The epilogues of some of the stories contain the scene where MC is shown to enjoy the view of the sky and remembers how the same crescent she saw on her very first night in the mansion was a harbinger of a major turning point in her life. A very clever choice of structuring writing as it allows to logically loop the plot.

🌗

This is where I need to stop, but I want to say just a few more words about two other members of the Trio. Faust and Charles. What does the crescent mean for them?

Now, I’m not a huge fan of searching for a black cat in a dark room, especially if there is no one there. This is the exact reason why I had to abandon the theory about the link between the brooch and Charles's past as an executioner. It's too far-fetched whereas we have a far more satisfying answer. Wearing the brooch, Faust and Charles show loyalty to their sire. At least, in the case of Charles it does seem true, taking into account his obsession with Vlad.

But with Faust it's a bit more complicated.

The central conflict in his route is called 'man against self' or, more precisely, a priest searching for and finding the lost faith. These searches stem from a plethora of moral dilemmas such as the right of a man wearing a cross to rebel against God watching the injustice of the world; the existence of so-called ‘fair sacrifice’ when in order to save hundreds of lives you have to kill one or vice versa.

Faust himself is portrayed as a ridiculously cynical and unprincipled man who doesn't scorn to experiment on corps and sincerely despises any sign of human weaknesses. At the same time, this very man is the one who supplements the citizens with the medicine without taking any money, spends his free time with orphans and despite looking genuinely annoyed cares about their well-being, knowing too well what it's like to be deprived of love and compassion. He’s given up on merciful Heaven because he’s never been a subject of mercy. Still, everyday he goes to church and listens to confessions of his parishioners.

I don't want to spoil other details of his route, but I think it's of particular importance to discuss MC’s words she tells him in the final chapters. As I understand, their meaning is somehow close to

‘your hands are what give others hope’

This is such a beautiful and touching way of saying that despite Faust telling her multiple times that he sees no hope in the future, in reality he carries it deep inside his heart. Otherwise, he wouldn't see the point in being revived as a vampire and rebelling the very principles of the world’s existence, he wouldn't listen and give a helping hand to the praying people in church, knowing a common belief that a person can to speak to God via priests as his voice on Earth.

No matter how hard the obstacles were, how painful and lonely he felt, Faust never wanted to lose hope and faith in his abilities to change his destiny by creating a world where everyone’s prayer can be heard.

How on Earth is the crescent moon involved here?

At this moment you should know I am a myth nerd.

The crescent was associated with goddess Hekate in the Roman Time Period and in Late Antiquity. While she wasn't originally a lunar goddess and a part of the Pantheon, Hekate was still known as the deity of dark magic, medicine and necromancy. Faust, as mentioned before, is attracted to alchemy, pharmaceutical and paranormal studies as well as experiments on the dead. According to the legend, he also used to practice witchcraft.

Alongside with that, Hekate had an important mission of guiding the lost souls. A crescent, her attribute, was incorporated in many poems and writings as a metaphor for hope that the moonlight gives to travelers as they try to see the road in the darkness of the night.

So, Faust’s crescent shaped brooch in the game may be another way of proving that in spite of all his bravada and claimed indifference, the truth is he always wears hope on his chest, though he can't see it as he doesn't listen to his heart (that's why the brooch is on the right and not on the left).

Hope drives him forward, makes him use everything he can —knowledge, experience, will — to create a brighter future. Hope creates aspiration, and aspiration nourishes hope. In fact, this is what brings Ikevamp Faust close to Goethe's character.

In Part I Scene I: Night there is a marvelous monologue of Faust addressing the moon.

‘O, may you look, full moon that shines, On my pain for this last time: So many midnights from my desk, I have seen you, keeping watch: When over my books and paper, Saddest friend, you appear!’

He wishes to leave the material world he lives in in order to achieve his greatest goal — to learn the irreversible laws of the universe. As he speaks, the moon becomes something more than a lifeless object, it represents his aspiration, distant and difficult, almost impossible.

‘… And need you ask why my heart Makes such tremors in my breast? Why all my life-energies are Choked by some unknown distress?’

#ikemen series #ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp shakespeare #ikevam vlad #ikevam arthur #ikevam leonardo #ikevamp theo #ikevamp faust #ikevamp charles #ikevamp comte #ikevamp dazai #ikevamp jean #ikevamp vincent #ikevamp napoleon

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