#its important to me that all vampires have this but especially arthur because he is so outwardly stoic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yanderepuck · 3 years

Text

Ikevamp heat cycle

Wow you’re all horny

So @lulu-the-smol-floof and I believe that purebloods have a heat cycle like animals. It happens every 4-5 years and can last from 2 weeks to a month and goddamn these bitches get horny.

But for all you horny bitches sake @shenevertricks1831 I will also write some head canons for the lessers as well.

@judgemental-seal @delicateikemenmemes @lulu-the-smol-floof @nafeary @bierunderdbeeren

First off. Let me tell you that you do NOT want to be in the Castle when Vlad is in heat. He mainly fucks Charles senseless, but sometimes you have to give that boy a break. He might be kinky as fuck but he only has so much stamina. Faust locks himself in his lab. He doesn’t want to deal with Vlad’s horny bullshit, but ends up having to anyway

BUT. The mansion is a different story. Luckily Leonardo’s and Comte’s have synced up after being with each other for so long, but for a while they weren’t. But even if they both are in head at the same time, sometimes they want something different.

Leonardo will often go to Theo since he found out he likes him back. He wondered why Leonardo was all over him all of a sudden. Comte will sometimes go to Sebastian. He doesn’t like to admit it, but he has gone to Arthur once or twice.

Getting like this also makes purebloods very territorial. Meaning Leonardo gets even more over protective of Comte. Vlad doesn’t have a chance getting around Comte when they’re like this.

Now lets act as if Lesser can also get this way. It doesn’t last nearly as long two and a half weeks on average. But poor MC

It didn’t kick in for anyone until after being a vampire for a year, even then they still weren’t at the same time. Napoleon can barely handle himself around you as it is. You’ve been wondering why he’s been a little rougher lately, trying to pull you into his bed even though you say you have things to do, because its the middle of the day.

Mozart hates feeling this way, but he knows there’s only one way to make it go away. Luckily he doesn’t have that high of a sex drive as it is, so just a little bit here and there can get him through those few weeks. But when he can’t handle it any longer you better be willing to go all night, because there’s no way he’s letting you go once he gives in.

Would Arthur really be any different? Yes actually. Instead of simply flirting he comes up behind you and starts kissing your neck, giving you little nibbles no matter where you are. The two of you could be out and he’s asking for a quickie. Which yes that’ll work for now, but don’t you think for a moment that it’s over. He’ll pull you into his bedroom and just begin stripping you.

Poor Isaac. He’s just trying to figure out a way to prevent this from happening. It sorta makes him feel ashamed. He has such a big bloodlust as it is, and now he just wants lust. He’d try to distance himself from you because he knows that once he’s close to you he won’t be able to control it. But you don’t know what’s going on, so when you go to check up on him he already has you pressed up against the wall, his lips on your neck and pressing himself against your body. There’s no way he’s going to be gentle with you, he’s already been in heat for five days and hasn’t been able to touch you.

Vincent doesn’t understand what he’s feeling at first until he spots you. That’s when he makes the connection. He thinks he’s going to hurt you, and since all he has is a couch, it’s not too easy. He probably ended up coming into your room and before you could say anything he shut the door behind him while kissing you. His hands were already under your clothes, he could barely control himself, and that’s exactly how you like to see him.

Theo thinks there’s something wrong with him when he starts feeling incredibly horny, and it will not go away. He tries to just ignore it, but half way through the second day he can’t. And when he sees you. Well. He’s ready to put you on a leash and tie you up so you can’t go anywhere. He doesn’t want to stop touching you. He gets very territorial over you, even towards Vincent. He doesn’t want you near another guy.

Jean is just screaming. He didn’t want to be a vampire and now he has to deal with this. Well it may not be all bad. Wither this is the first time or not, you’ll be able to show Jean some things. With how he’s acting you can tell and decide to help him out. You start out topping him, but that doesn’t last long. Once Jean figures out how good it feels and relieves some of the tension he’s taking over and taking you to pound town.

Will tries to be a gentleman the best he can. But on a normal day he has a hard time taking his eyes off you. But during these few weeks? He’s a little nervous for you to be in his presence. He is rough with you has it is, and even though he knows you like it that way, he’s worried about going too far. But you do come over and almost immediately you end up stripped and on his couch, kissing him with your hands bound.

Now with Dazai he tries to hide this feeling. He feels like it isn’t right to feel this horny. But it doesn’t take him long to realize what is going on. This is a normal type of horny. He goes in the thermae to relax but little did he know you were coming in too.�� It had been a long day and you wanted to unwind, and you saw your man in there as well. Perfect time to catch up with him. Dazai attempted to keep a bit of a distance, but you assumed he was just playing hard to get and accidentally ended up corning him. He couldn’t take it anymore and switched spots with you, putting you in the corner and kissing you, his hands went around to grab your ass, lifting you up a bit, pressing himself against your body. Not what you were expecting, but you don’t object.

Even being a man of science Faust wasn’t sure what was going on the first time. Yes he gets horny from time to time, but not like how he is now. He tried to tell you he was doing something important and to leave him alone in his lab for a while, but did you listen? No. You wanted to bring him something to eat. He’s been working hard. You didn’t plan on staying since you didn’t want to bother him, but he said he was at a breaking point. He ignored the food and lifted you up onto his table, pressing himself against you. You hadn’t known what got into him, and before you could even say anything his lips were on yours and his hand was on your heat.

Charles can be horny as it is. He’s very needy and that comes with it. But he’s felt excessively horny for the past day. He didn’t think much of it but the more he was around you the stronger it got. At one point he even bared his fangs at Vlad for getting too close to you. He hadn’t even realized he had done it. But after that interaction he wanted to make sure Vlad’s touch on you didn’t linger. His hands and lips were all over your body. You try asking what has gotten into him all of a sudden, but he take your hand and puts it to his crotch and he starts leaving marks all over your neck.

Leonardo won’t let you leave. You might as well get comfy. He can go all night as it is, but now he’s like this everyday for a month. He ends up telling you about it a few days in and you just look at him and think about how sore you’re going to be and how much you’re going to love it. Of course Leonardo would never make you if you didn’t want to. The aftercare is just as great. He’ll leave and come back with some of your favorite snacks. For the most part you stick with being in your room or his room, but that doesn’t mean nothing has happened int he library.

Comte just wants to lock you in his room and not let you near any of the others. He can’t stand to see you with someone else at this time. The great thing with Comte is that he’s also one hell of a bottom, so you get to switch it up quite frequently. For your sake you better not go around anyone else, especially Arthur. The moment Comte hears another guy talking to you, he will sweep you off your feet and take you back to his room.

Vlad might actually lock you in his room. You would have everything you need, but he might actually lock you in. The thought of Charles being near you makes his blood boil, more than it does on a normal day. He doesn’t even want Marshmallow to be getting any attention from you. He is to have you all to himself.

Masterlist

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

417 notes · View notes

aeoncryptic · 3 years

Text

Arthur's Day Trip

This is Fluff~ Story after the break.

I also just want to put a big thank you out there for those that looked over this, gave me advice, or just put up with me! <3

Word count: This story is 4,667 words long.

Edit: I suppose I should have added before that there is a bonus at the end for Theo torture. <3 (not actual torture just...)

(March 13th, xx; four in the morning; Arthur)

Arthur was possessed. The sun had long since set, yet he sat at his desk writing. The sound of a quill scratching away at paper were the only noises in the barely lit room. Midnight-colored bangs fell to cover his eyes as he sighed, finally setting his writing utensil down. He had fully intended to cease his habit of working through the night once he had asked his lovely girlfriend, (MC), to be his wife. Unfortunately for the exhausted writer, his mind would not grant him the solace of keeping his promise. He raked his tired hands through his hair and turned his sapphire eyes onto his beautiful fiancee. She had been so exhausted from her work in the manor that she collapsed on his bed, stretching her entire body across it. The blankets were in disarray and her red hair was splayed around her as if she had a halo. Leaving his story unfinished for the night, the tired writer climbed into what little bed space there was next to his beloved. He wrapped his arms around her waist, hoping he wouldn’t wake her. His eyes slowly drifted off to sleep.

(March 13th, xx; two hours after noon; Arthur)

The smell of coffee wafted to the author’s nose, causing him to stir. Upon opening his eyes, he was greeted with a smile that rivaled the sun. (MC) set his daily dose of “bitter energy provider”, as she called it, on his desk with a glass of rouge. “Good afternoon, Arthur. I brought your coffee and lunch. You happened to sleep through breakfast.” The red-haired woman glanced at the bookshelf next to his desk. It held resources the writer used for reference, but also held at least an entire shelf of completed manuscripts yet to be published. Arthur knew the expression on her face well. It was one of love and admiration; one he felt he didn’t deserve. Pushing away those dark emotions as they welled up, he carefully got out of bed to give her his full attention. “Arthur, it's a waste for your stories to just sit on your shelf! They’re exhilarating and should be shared!” She tried to appeal to him. “You work so hard day and night to write these, why not try to find a publisher?” With a gentle and encouraging tone, she attempted to persuade her lover.

Ah, the old song and dance. He thought as he allowed his usual playful smile dance across his lips as he stood before her, lifting his hand to gently hold the strands of her long hair and let them slip through his fingers. “Hmm~ Perhaps I’ll consider it. More importantly, won’t you join me for lunch, luv~?” His seductive expression would be enough to convince any woman. However, Arthur knew that she would turn him down as she would most likely be busy with her work. Couldn’t have hurt to ask~.

Though his words made her blush, her emerald eyes glittered playfully as she responded. “Really, Arthur? I have to get back to work.” Her soft lips brushed against his cheeks, as if trying to banish his pout, and then she was out the door. Her movements were swift enough to prevent him from convincing her to stay, which was guaranteed to succeed. The writer chuckled at how adorable his fiancee was. If he had convinced her to stay, he would have felt guilty at having taken her from her responsibilities. The writer quickly shook off those thoughts, lest he spiral back into the unending strings of guilt.

Deciding that he desired his coffee rush, Arthur quickly got dressed and sat before his desk. He picked up his pen and stared at the unfinished manuscript. If I can finish this by the end of today, why, I may just get (MC) all to myself tomorrow~ After all, it is her day off. With that thought alone, he felt a surge of energy. Today he would finish this manuscript and start tomorrow’s story so he could spend the day with his lover.

(March 13th, xx; five in the evening; MC)

Her hair swished with the wind as she finished the last of her chores for the day. Working at a mansion with eleven vampires was tough work when there was only the butler, Sebastian, and herself. Now that spring was here, they had been exceedingly busy. (MC) felt guilty that she wasn’t able to spend as much time with Arthur as she wanted. Taking care of everyone here is my job and it’s important, so I’m sure Arthur understands. Remembering that she is supposed to help the butler with prepping and cooking dinner, she glanced at her pocket watch. An expression of shock spread over her features as she realized the time. Gathering her skirts a bit, the young lady rushed inside.

Upon her entry to the kitchen, she was prepared to receive Sebastian’s signature flick to the forehead as punishment for being late. Luckily, he simply glanced in her direction and gave her a smile. “You’re late. If you finished the work in the garden, why not get started on Sir Isaac’s dinner?” He instructed her as he was finishing up Theo’s and Vincent’s “dinner”. Her nose scrunched up at the pancakes and Theo’s entire bottle of syrup that she knew he would pour on the unsuspecting victims.

“Pancakes again? Theo is going to end up sick.” She giggled, but set to work on Isaac’s sandwich. Isaac preferred sandwiches because it was easier to eat and work, Theodorus preferred pancakes, and Napoleon would sometimes cook his own food. Pleased with her efforts, she gently placed the sandwich on a plate and set different vegetables around it. With dextrous fingers, she placed the meals on the serving cart. Before leaving the kitchen, she made sure to grab not one, but two syrup bottles with the knowledge that Theo would drown his pancakes without mercy. Once everything was set up they headed to the dining room.

Sitting at the table was the usual crowd, but she was surprised to see her lover amongst the group since he was working on his manuscript. She had expected that Arthur would still be hard at work. As she placed the prepared plates on the table along with the two syrup bottles, she gave Theo a playful smile. “Here you are Theo, your syrup with a side of pancakes.”

Theo’s usual cocky smirk disappeared from his face to display a scowl. “Despite what you seem to believe, I do eat other foods besides pancakes, hondje.” Vincent and the housekeeper watched as Theo poured more than a normal amount of syrup on his cakes as usual.

Vincent, reaching for his own bottle, poured a little amount on his. “But Theo, pancakes are your favorite meal and that is your fourth bottle of syrup this week.” Sebastian, overhearing this conversation, bemoans the lack of chances to shop this week and makes note that they will need more syrup. Seeing Theo being called out by his own brother caused her to cover her mouth to hide her giggles. Theo turned to Vincent wide eyed. “Are you taking the knabbeltje’s side, Broer?” The brunette pouts at his older brother.

The older paused and seemed to think for a moment, “Sebastian has been making you pancakes for almost every meal this week. Maybe (MC) has an idea of a meal you would like.” He offered his brother his winning angelic smile. Theo merely grumbled in response and began to eat his pancakes. Seeing her chance, she decided to appeal to Vincent. He was her key to convincing Theo to at least give her idea a try. “Actually Vincent, there is a 21st century recipe for pancakes that I have been wanting Theo to try. I just know how much you love Sebastian’s pancakes, so I didn’t want to force it on you.”

She lowered her head and looked away, which sealed the deal as she heard Vincent say, “I’m sure Theo would be happy to try them, especially since you said you wanted him to try them.” Realizing his fate was sealed and the overhanging possibility of him trying a healthier option of pancake caused Theo to choke on his breakfast. Clearing his throat, he wiped his mouth and sent a strained smile to his brother. “Sure, Broer, even a hondje can’t mess up something as simple as a pancake.” She grinned at her feat, already planning the ingredients she would need. She turned her attention back to her work.

(March 13th, six in the evening; Arthur)

Her attempts to get Theo to at least attempt to eat healthier, despite the lack of need for food, had not gone unnoticed. Vincent was happy that she worried for them, but it was unnecessary. Though, her mischief towards Theo and his beloved pancakes was always a sight to behold. It always amused the writer. Arthur, having been a spectator for this specific trial, was quite pleased with his fiancee; She had managed to place Theo in a checkmate position.

Catching Sebas taking notes for groceries gave Arthur an idea that he was mulling over as his lover took her seat beside him. He gave her a smile that rang of his pride for her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, he drew her slightly closer to place a kiss to her temple. “You’re a clever bird~” He whispered into her ear. She grinned at him, while Theo merely glowered.

(March 14th, six in the morning; MC)

The sunlight started to trickle past the slightly parted curtains, blessing the room with light from the sunrise. The red haired lady glanced at the empty spot next to her, saddened to find he wasn’t resting there. She turned her emerald eyes upon his desk, only to find it missing its owner as well. Concern began to creep in through her fingertips and slowly spread throughout her body, making her cold under the warm blankets. Perhaps he went to get coffee? His side of the bed looked untouched, as if the writer had never even entered the bed. She quickly sat up, the press of her feet to the cold floor sending a shiver through her. Running a hand through her hair to calm herself, she used her free one to open the dressing room.

Once she was dressed, the red-haired lady quickly stalked down the deserted hallways towards the kitchen. She was late to help with the chores, but she was more worried about her lover. Had he just gone to get coffee as she had thought earlier? Perhaps he needed fresh air and went for a walk? Her steps were light upon the floor, making barely a sound. Once she reached the kitchen door, she had managed to calm her fears. She slowly opened the door only to find the very man where she had guessed he would be. Drinking his “bitter energy provider.” Flashing a gentle smile at the sapphire eyed man, she walked into the kitchen. “Good morning, Arthur!”

He gave her a lazy grin, his eyes already looking tired, but there was something playful there in his expression. “Good morning, luv~” He sang in his usual flirtatious tone and set his coffee aside in order to give her a tight hug. “Comte dragged Sebas out early this morning and asked that you do the shopping for the day.” The author was pouting as he placed a kiss to her temple. “While I am desperate to have your attention all to myself, I was wondering if I could accompany you~?”

The look she gave him at that question was one of disbelief. “Don’t you have to finish a manuscript?” She eyed him, knowing all of his tricks. In response, he gave her the puppy dog eyes; she had to look away, or else he would win their little game too easily. With a huff, she wiggled out of his arms and picked up the note left to her by the dark haired butler.

“Dear MC,

I have been asked by le Comte to accompany him on some business outside of Paris and will be gone for the day. Along with the usual chores, I have left a list of items that need to be picked up in town.

I can come in many shades and often made from unconventional materials and I am used in strokes.

I am desirable and appealing to some, due to my false sense of calm. My life started with a spark and then goes up in cinder and smoke.

I often end up in sticky situations and don’t come from bees, but I can be found at breakfast and cannot be spread freely.

Dark as sin and a pain to wash out, I am often used to send someone’s thoughts. Without me, people cannot read.

When I am well worn, I have a crack in my spine. I often have dog ears when I am done. I can be heavy or lean, but left alone I can gather dust.

Be sure that this list is completed by the end of the afternoon. I know you need to go to town to pick up your ingredients as well for your 'pancakes'.”

She let out an exasperated sigh, wondering what could have possessed the butler to leave such a puzzle for her to solve. These riddles couldn’t be too hard, right? As she was trying to relate each sentence to an item that one of the residents could need, her lover snaked his arm around her waist and laid his head on her shoulder to look at the letter. “Ah~ A fun little game.” His free hand slid along her arm, taking the letter from her hands to read it better. Glancing up, she puffed her cheeks out at him. “Get your coat, luv. We are going to town.” Folding the letter neatly, he put it in his pocket.

His fiancee’s expression left nothing to the imagination. “Don’t you have to work?” She asked, obviously worried that she would, once again, distract him from his manuscripts. However, a selfish part of her brain told her she wanted him to go with her. And, with great effort, she crushed that part. He needs to continue his work! I can’t get in his way!

Arthur chuckled, “As it so happens, I seem to be having a bout of ‘Writer’s block’. Going for a walk may help clear my mind~” He kissed her head, spun her around, and gently pushed her towards the door. “Now, go doll yourself up. We’ll have lunch out after we do our little shopping; I’m sure you’ll be starved. Meet me in the foyer at eight~” She beamed, her cheeks turning a slight pink shade, and left the room with renewed excitement. Though, in her mind, she knew he was only pretending to have writer’s block so that he could spend time with her.

(March 14, eight in the morning; MC)

She ran the brush through her beautiful, wavy red hair one last time. Nervousness was the prevailing emotion over her excitement. Since it had been so long since she and Arthur had last been out together, she wanted to look her best. She let out a deep breath to calm her nerves and set her brush upon her vanity. Shaky hands grabbed at her skirts as she looked in the full length mirror and twirled. The skirt billowed out around her, looking for all their part petals to a beautiful flower. The dress she had chosen was a blue-grey that matched her lovers’ usual attire. She beamed at the woman in the mirror; Perfect! I hope Arthur likes it! Once she was content with her appearance, she rushed out of her room to meet her fiance.

The look of delight and the light that brightened his eyes as she descended the stairs finally waved away her nerves. His gaze took in all of her, following her from the very top of the steps to the very last. “My~! Don’t you look gorgeous, my dove~!” He held out his arm to her to escort her to the carriage. She put her hand on his arm, willing to walk anywhere this man demanded.

Now that they had reached town, Arthur pulled the letter out and unfolded it. She had a hard time keeping pace with him as he was concentrating, his long strides requiring her to almost jog beside him. “Now, where to begin.” At the very least, her lover seemed to be taking this seriously. “‘I come in many shades’ could be just about anything. What really narrows it down is that it mentions ‘strokes’ and ‘unconventional materials’. Now, my dear Watson, who in the mansion uses something that has to do with strokes?” His tone of voice told her that she should know this answer. She paused her steps for a moment, causing him to stop as well.

Memories of her talks with the residents began running through her mind. Just as she was about to give up, she remembered a conversation she’d had with Theo. They’d been looking at one of Vincent’s paintings! Theo had been describing the particular style of his brother’s art. “Vincent! His paints! Vincent mentioned needing more paints just the other day!” She exclaimed excitedly, clasping her hands together, her eyes bright.

She knew she’d said the right thing when he gave her a radiant smile. “Brilliant, luv~! You make a wonderful partner.” A gloved hand caressed her cheek in a moment of affection. Pulling a pen out of his pocket, he scribbled “Paints for Vincent” next to the first puzzle. “The hints for the second riddle is… ‘desirable and appealing’ and ‘starts with a spark and goes up in smoke’.” He glanced at her, to which she already wore a smile.

“That HAS to be cigarillos for Leonardo. They’re known to have an addictive substance and due to the tobacco, give a sense of calm, right? Also, it starts in a spark because it needs to be lit. As its ‘life ends’ it ‘goes up in smoke’.” She grinned at Arthur, knowing she was right this time as well.

He nodded his affirmation, writing down “cigarillos for Leo”. Arthur quickly wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to himself as a carriage whooshed past them both. While it would have missed her, he was glad to have had a reason to hold her close to him. “Perhaps we should take a seat to finish the rest?” To this she gave him an amused smile, shaking her head in playful exasperation. His gloved hand grasped hers and began tugging her towards a bench. His hand felt warm in hers, but oh how she wished he weren’t wearing gloves.

Once they were seated at the bench, him having her sit so close to him that she was practically in his lap, he held the letter between them. She glanced around to make sure no one was paying them much mind, her face almost a scarlet hue. He had his arm around her waist and was leaning close to her in order to allow them both to look at the letter easier. “This one is for Theo. The bees usually means honey, but since it's sticky and not from bees, it has to be because we ran out of syrup.” After she finished her explanation, Arthur turned to face her, their noses almost touching.

“Brilliant! You could be a detective yourself.” He winked at her and removed his arm, writing down “Syrup for Theo”. She felt slightly colder after he had pulled away, already missing his warmth. But she shook this feeling off. “Any ideas for this one?” His finger was indicating the fourth riddle. He recited, “‘Dark as sin and a pain to wash out’…”

“Oh! Ink! Speaking of which, Arthur, did you write this morning?” As he had pointed at the paper, the sleeve of his white shirt poked out from under his jacket. It displayed blue ink marks on the cuffs, which stood out against the bright white. She started inspecting his sleeve with a frown; ink certainly was a pain to get out and now she was going to have to spend a lot of time cleaning this shirt.

“Ah. Sorry, poppet. I attempted to write a bit this morning and forgot to roll up my sleeves.” His tone was certainly apologetic, no doubt worried about his lover having to spend her time trying to clean his many ink stained shirts. He wrote down “Ink for Arthur and Mozart”. “Last one and then we buy all the items. Then I treat you to lunch.” His eyes skimmed the very last part of the list. "'When I am well worn, I have a crack in my spine. Heavy or lean and gathers dust’.”

“A book?” She glanced at him, worried that she was wrong. The problem being that if it were a book, who would it be for? There was no title written down or any information. Just the riddle.

“I did happen to ask Sebas for a reference book the other day, perhaps that is what he meant. If not, we may have to come back into town!” They both set off together to purchase the answers and the ingredients for her special “pancakes." After they had their bags together, Arthur whisked her away to enjoy a lunch together.

As they were enjoying their food she decided to put to word what had been on her mind earlier that day. She set her fork upon her plate and turned to face Arthur. “You don’t really have writer’s block, do you?”

He froze, his spoon almost to his mouth. There was a clink as he set the spoon back in his bowl. Longer fingers tugged nervously at his collar, his expression sheepish. “Well, luv… The truth is that we have both been busy lately… With you doing all the cleaning and my writing… Then our sleeping habits. I simply wanted a bit of your attention to myself.” His pout made her laugh, her expression brightening.

Another suspicion arose in her mind. “You made these riddles, didn’t you? It seems a bit out of place for Sebastian to suddenly decide to play a game!” She laughed when he confessed to this too. The sound of her laughter was a bright sound that lightened the load on his heart. He knew he had done something right with this “date” he had planned. But surely his fiancee was too clever to have picked up on it. But he grinned, happy to be able to please his future wife. Times would be hard and there would be highs and lows. But one thing was for certain: this was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.

Bonus (Torturing Theo)

The next morning, MC woke up very early and began preparing everyone’s breakfast. Today was going to be a special day, a day she would never forget. The ingredients for Theo’s healthy breakfast lay before her on the counter. She tried hiding her smirk, her fiance chuckling as he sipped away at his coffee. Arthur was excitedly wanting to watch as his best friend got what he deserved. Especially after the time where Theo forced him to drink his most hated substance, tea. She knew that no matter what, Theo would have no choice but to eat what she made; Vincent was sure to have her back on this. After all, she only cares for Theo’s health.

Arthur pushed away from the counter he was leaning on, sauntered over to his lover and placed a kiss to her temple. With a hand resting on her hip, he whispered into her ear. “I’m off to the dining room~ Try not to have too much fun before the main act, luv~” Focused on her work, she barely noticed the affection he gave her. The lack of attention made him pout, but he knew she was enjoying herself. Just as his hand slid from her waist and he turned to leave the room, (MC) gave him a kiss to his cheek. A gentle smile returned to his lips as he left the room. Once he was gone, she continued her work on the “pancakes”.

Theo’s POV

Theo watched as (MC) entered the room. He knew something was going on with the way she was humming to herself. Trying to think of what would make her so happy, he tensed upon remembering that she was making his “special pancakes” today. His dirty blonde hair shadowed his face as he considered whether or not he should make a break for it.

Watching as she placed everyone’s breakfast down, his ocean blue eyes went wide as he looked at the abomination before him. Is this even a pancake!? It was fluffy, that was for sure. The “pancakes'' before him had cabbage in it. Instead of syrup, it had a dollop of something white and what smelled like garlic. “What is this, knabbletje?” He turned his icing glare on her.

She beamed at his expression. “It’s called Cabbage Fritters. It’s just like pancakes, except with cabbage!” Her eagerness only made his scowl deepen. He knew she was doing this on purpose. However, if he said anything that might make her cry, Vincent would get onto him. “I made them fluffy, just like you like your pancakes.” She was at least trying to ease his displeasure.

With hesitant movements, he grabbed his fork and knife. “Don’t I get to have syrup at least?” As she shook her head, he sighed, giving in to his torture. On one side, he could eat it quickly and hope it isn’t as bad as it looks. On the other, he could refuse to eat it. The latter would cause him to receive a stern expression from his broer and he would still have to eat the nasty food.

Theo heard a snicker in front of him and he glanced up to find Arthur trying not to laugh as the author hid his face behind his coffee mug. Cutting into the fritters, as she called them, he stabbed the piece with his fork and slowly lifted it to his mouth. The look of pure disgust on his face as it touched his tongue brought joy to Arthur and his fiancee. He began to chew, resisting the urge to spit it out. Once he swallowed, he tried to force his usual cocky expression back into place. “I-I suppose it’s okay.”

Suddenly, everything was sunshine and brightness as Vincent smiled. “If you liked it, perhaps (MC) should make it more often.” His brother tilted his head, seeming absolutely pleased. He threw a dark look in her direction; She was definitely trying not to laugh. Arthur, on the other hand, broke out into a fit of laughter. His shoulders shook and he was having troubles catching his breath.

Finally having enough, Theo slammed his hands on the table, pushing his chair back as he stood up and made his way towards the lady. With panicked laughter, she ran to her lover, who was still laughing. “Arthur, help me!” At his lover’s call, he stood up and pulled her behind him.

“Schei uit, Theo.” Vincent grabbed Theo quickly, while (MC) pushed herself as close to Arthur’s back as possible to hide behind him. Theo struggled in his brother’s hold trying to get to them. “What has gotten into you, Theo?” His brother’s concerned voice hurt his ears, but he could no longer behave.

“That is NOT a pancake. They’re doing this to me on purpose, broer!” He tried appealing to his older brother, to no avail. Vincent simply held him tighter and gave him a look of disapproval. This only added fuel to the fire. Arthur was sure to pay for this later. He’d make sure of it.

Riddles provided by @madam-mademoiselle

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikemen vampire arthur #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp theo #ikemen vampire theo #ikemen vampire theodorus #ikevamp vincent

94 notes · View notes

aion-rsa · 3 years

Text

Where Are All of the Mothers in Fantasy Fiction?

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

This is a guest post from Gabriela Houston, the London-based Polish author of Second Bell, a Slavic fantasy debut described as a cross between His Dark Materials and The Bear and the Nightingale. You can find out more about the book here.

Historically speaking, the fantasy genre has a thorny relationship with motherhood. Technically, it’s acknowledged that the protagonists must have sprung from somewhere. But it is often solely their paternity that is seen as important—while the mothers, if mentioned at all, are usually either dead of irrelevant: unmentioned or languishing in a convent somewhere. If the mothers (or stepmothers: a different type of a mother-figure) persist in being alive into their children’s adulthood they are most often presented as an obstacle to their child’s self-actualisation/quest, or, as is most common with the stepmother archetype, present an actual threat to the protagonist.

Since mainstream fantasy as a genre was Eurocentric, this is a trend that is very much connected to the patriarchal structures persisting throughout Europe for most of recorded history. King Arthur, whose legend was first written down in the 12th Century by Geoffrey of Monmouth, had a mother, of course, but her only real importance was in how her beauty drew the eye of Uther Pendragon, who raped her, conceiving Arthur. Since Uther ended up marrying Arthur’s mother, Igraine, story-wise all was considered to be well, and, her role in birthing the future king done, Igraine became an irrelevance, just as any feelings and thoughts she might have had on her second husband. All we know is she was beautiful, chaste and gave birth to the real protagonist of the story.

The courtly love conventions forming the basis of many medieval European legends have seeped into the genre of fantasy, especially high fantasy, and have shaped the way in which female protagonists are related to. In most “traditional” fantasy, motherhood was seen as nearly opposite to personhood. A female character’s value centred squarely on her attractiveness to the male protagonist, meaning that the moment she aged/became a mother, she ceased to hold that particular form of attention that comes from extreme youth and innocence. Motherhood is seen as the end of a female character’s journey. The experiences, shifting relationships and emotions linked to motherhood are not seen as interesting enough to garner any space at all.

In The Lord of The Rings, we are faced with a whole cast of missing mothers. Moreover their absence is not noted as particularly important or carrying any emotional load. Aragorn, son of Arathorn, clearly had a mother, but when his father died he was shipped off to live with the elves. We neither know, nor are expected to care about what his mother thought on the subject. Then, of course, he falls for the elven maiden Arwen, whose mother, we’re told (as an aside) had the good sense to disappear from the scene by sailing beyond the sea before the plot of LOTR begins. Frodo Baggins’ mother helpfully died before he was born and Bilbo Baggins has the rare privilege of having a named mother, Belladonna Took, who, however, is quite dead by the time The Hobbit begins, and is referenced only as a link between Bilbo and the adventurous Took clan. She was a Took and she birthed him. Thus her role ended.

The halls of speculative fiction are carpeted with the corpses of the mothers who died of broken hearts and colds in order to not complicate their progeny’s journey. In fantasy TV and Film the trend, quite naturally, continued. In the original Star Wars trilogy, Princess Leia and Luke’s mother, Padme Amidala lived a full life of adventure but then died of a broken heart shortly after her children were born, as of course she should have done. Can you imagine, had she survived, the plot-spoiling link to their past she would have become? In Buffy The Vampire Slayer, Joyce Summer’s death, whilst arguably the critical highpoint of the series, was seen as necessary. She had to die, or else Buffy might have never become who she was always meant to be. As a mother she was an obstacle, one the scriptwriters helpfully removed.

Occasionally, the death of the character’s mother brings about the advent of the perennial archetype of the evil step-mother. A twisted parody of what a mother should be, just as the dead mother was convenient to the character’s journey, the insertion of the stepmother exists solely to scupper all of the character’s efforts. The examples of the conniving stepmother trope abound in traditional folktales (like in Cinderella, or its Slavic equivalent, Vasilisa, where the young protagonist is sent off by her stepmother to ask a favour of the infamous witch, Baba Yaga), mythologies (think the ultimate evil stepmother, Hera, who habitually persecuted the innocent results of her husband Zeus’ many indiscretions), and, not surprisingly, in fantasy genre as well.

In A Song of Ice and Fire by George RR Martin (which actually does portray an unusual range of mothers with agency), Catelyn Stark, an otherwise fiercely loyal mother, is a cold and distant stepmother to Jon Snow. In the first novel in Katherine Arden’s fantastic Winternight trilogy, the main protagonist grows up in the shadow of her vapid, fearful and cruel stepmother. Part of the reason, I’d argue, why older women are so often portrayed as annoying and conniving, is because, as far as the traditional narratives are concerned, the whole of their role and purpose is fulfilled the moment their physical (youthful) attractiveness wanes. Those without the wisdom to exit the stage by dying become at worst a cumbersome plot bunny and at best an obstacle.

The issue of a lack of older women in fantasy is such an expansive subject that it demands the respect of a separate thought piece, really. And, as regards the stepmothers, I’m not saying, of course, that they should always be portrayed as kind and loving. But precisely because their archetype is rooted so strongly in our collective consciousness, it’s particularly important to acknowledge their humanity. And as far as the humanity of the older female (in the traditional fantasy fiction this seems to describe any woman over twenty) character goes, the good news is the tide is turning.

Part of the reason for that is that more women than ever are given the platform to write their stories. Perhaps somewhere along the way the publishing industry as a whole realised that as women account for the majority of fiction readers (according to one cross-Atlantic research they make up to 80% of fiction market), then perhaps portraying women as actual people, whose agency doesn’t evaporate once they get pregnant, might simply be good marketing.

In the recent years I’ve been ecstatic to see nuance brought into the motherhood trope within the genre. Where the mother of the character is dead, she is so for a damn good reason, with the echoes of her absence reverberating through the story in the most compelling ways, like in Tracy Deonn’s Legendborn. Mothers fight beside their children, and grandchildren (Like the pink-haired protagonist of The Phlebotomist by Chris Panatier), and battle hardship and heartache, like in Madeline Miller’s Circe.

As a mother it was important to me to focus on the humanity of motherhood in my debut, The Second Bell. The mothers I wrote are not perfect, and they are not always right. And even when they are, they might not know it for certain. And that is the point. Mothers deserve their place in fiction not because they’re perfect, but because they are human. Their decisions are just as complex as their younger counterparts and are complicated further by their new and life-changing bond with their child.

cnx.cmd.push(function() { cnx({ playerId: "106e33c0-3911-473c-b599-b1426db57530", }).render("0270c398a82f44f49c23c16122516796"); });

Writing mothers is writing humans. No more, no less. They matter and they are worthy of notice.

Second Bell will be released on Tuesday, March 9th. You can find out more about Gabriela Houston here.

The post Where Are All of the Mothers in Fantasy Fiction? appeared first on Den of Geek.

from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/30r63n4

#aion-rsa #Den of Geek

8 notes · View notes

crimson-snowfall · 4 years

Text

[Commission] A Steamy Lesson

Pairing: Isaac x MC x Arthur

Word Count: 3653

Rating: Explicit

POV: 2nd person

Warnings: threesome, multiple orgasms, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, blowjob, cum eating, lots of biting and one instance of male-to-male vampire biting.

Important: This is an NSFW fic, the pairing and warnings have been already listed; friendly reminder that you are responsible for the content you consume.

Commissioned by: @cinnatwisted. Thank you for letting me write this favorite sandwich of mine!

"Penny for your thoughts, little dove?" Arthur's carefree voice rang enticingly in your ears, pulling you from your train of thoughts. Perhaps it was written all over your face, for in that morning alone, it wasn't the first time that someone noticed that you have something in your mind– something unpleasant, to be exact. Or at least, that's as far as Isaac could read into, and you wouldn't really take it against your lover knowing full well that he's never had to deal with these kinds of situations ever before.

The seducer that had appeared before you in that moment, however, had already more or less narrowed down as to what that unpleasant feeling was. All he needed was some sort of confirmation.

"Nothing you should worry yourself about," you dropped your gaze on the floor in an attempt to escape his probing eyes, but if anything, it only seemed to ignite his desire to get further involved.

Inching a bit closer to you, he tried again.

"Awww come on," he caught a stray lock of your hair and wound it loosely around his index finger, "...no harm in telling me about it, little dove. Who knows, I might just happen to be the perfect candidate in helping you out with this trouble of yours."

And dang right he is… except that Arthur probably has something more daring in mind, and right now... it's not exactly how you'd want to address your problem.

At least not yet.

"Knowing you, you probably already knew before even approaching me," you mumbled under your breath, frustration evident in the way your expression crumpled ever so slightly. The smug grin your response drew on Arthur's expression confirmed your own suspicions.

"I never would've guessed you'd give me that much credit," he admitted as he lifted up your chin, his alluring gaze holding your wavering ones captive, before adding, much to your disdain, "...but then again, my assumptions could be off the mark, that's why I want to hear it from you."

You rolled your eyes on him. There's no way in hell that someone as perceptive and as perverted as him could be wrong.

Especially not when the evidence of your troubles is the depressingly pristine condition of your neck.

"Look, I believe you just asked me what's troubling me, which I know for sure you've already figured out. We're not talking about what you're gonna do about it, because I haven't exactly asked you to do anything about it."

Arthur's expression dropped a little. "Aww, would it kill you to admit you've been craving for a little nibble?" Arthur ghosted his deft fingers over one side of your neck, before giving voice to that suggestion you've been expecting from someone like him, "...and I'll have you know, I can make you feel just as good."

Oh, if only you weren't craving it so bad–

A sharp hiss, one that could've easily morphed into a moan escaped your lips as the tip of Arthur's warm tongue drew a thin line over the side of your neck. He ushered you into a more secluded nook of the hallway, and he chuckled conceitedly as you held onto his arms… as though you were bracing yourself for something more.

"See? I told you so," Arthur remarked teasingly before putting that sinful tongue of his into work again, this time exploring your neck more liberally. You held a hand over your mouth to muffle the gasps and low moans that accompanied each flick and swish of his tongue against your flesh that had been deprived of that kind of warmth and attention for quite some time now– for even when Isaac made love to you, he would intentionally avoid those spots.

Perhaps it was a bit of a drastic countermeasure, but then again, you couldn't remember either when was the last time his bite had not left you mildly anemic the following day. You honestly wouldn't have minded it that much either, but even so, a part of you couldn't help but wish that Isaac could remain himself even after he sinks his fangs into your neck.

For whenever it happens, it's almost always without any warning.

You squeezed your eyes shut as Arthur grazed the tip of his fangs against your ears, and his deep, seductive voice eroded your reservations piece by piece,

"Tell me what you want me to do, my little dove," he gazed deeply into your eyes, and all you had to do was to vocalize what your expression reflected on those sapphire orbs of lust.

"Oh please, Arthur. You know what I want, just this once–"

Then all of a sudden, and very much contrary to what you've been expecting him to do, he let go of you.

"Just this once?" His voice lacked its distinctive teasing tone, but his amused expression betrayed none of what's truly going on in his mind at that time.

The sudden shift in the mood left you feeling rather embarrassed though, so it was only natural that your next words came out a tad bit too defensive,

"Y-yes, you heard that right! Just this o-once, so you can trust that I-I'll never come to you again…"

Arthur's smile turned into a haughty one. "Is that so?"

"Y-Yeah!"

"Oh, then I'm afraid that just won't do, my little dove," he feigned disappointment as he straightened up the collar of your blouse, before leaning in close, lifting up your chin once more until your lips are just a couple centimeters apart,

"Just once won't do it for me, but you know what? I've got an idea on how to make this work for all three of us," he imparted suggestively whilst his thumb toyed with your lower lip, before finally backing away, returning the personal space that you sadly didn't need that time.

"What do you mean?" You asked as Arthur began to walk away.

"You'll see later… oh and by the way, don't forget to invite your dear Newt to bed tonight."

Despite your confusion, you ended up doing as Arthur had instructed. You had invited Isaac to your room that night, but he's running late for some reason. Before your mind could take advantage of the vacancy to think over Arthur's implications earlier that day though, the door swung open… but instead of Isaac, it was the seducer who had come in.

"A-Arthur! What are you doing here?" You asked in alarm as he casually made his way to your bed.

"Aww, relax! You didn't have to sound like I'm an intruder or what," he reassured you as he surprisingly settled for sitting on the edge of the bed… not that you were secretly a little disappointed, of course.

"But you are an intruder."

"No I'm not."

"Then explain yourself." And explain himself and his devious plans for that night, Arthur did exceptionally well, that you had a river running down your core by the end of it all.

“Oh m-my god, are y-you insane? Do you think that h-he would actually–”

"Oh trust me he would," Arthur confidently declared as he began making his move, crawling up slowly until his form was towering over you, "and I'll make sure that you're gonna savor every moment of it too."

Before you could voice out any more complaints though, the seducer sealed your lips with a brief but passionate kiss, then slowly made his way down to your neck. He deftly swirled his tongue in a circular motion over the tender spots over your flesh, topping it up with a suctioning kiss before shifting to another spot.

"Aaaah~! Morrreee, Arthur, please… I neeed morrreee…"

"More what? You know, I'm afraid you'll have to be specific about your needs…" Arthur teased as he simply allowed his warm breath waft over your jugular, and for all the building up he's done with you ever since that morning, that was the last straw.

Discarding the last shreds of your decency, you implored him, "I want– no, I need you to sink your fangs into me Arthur, please, I just can't take it any– aaaaaahhh~!!!"

He obliged the exact moment the door to your room had opened once more, and the sound of your ecstatic moans as Arthur answered your desperate pleas greeted and filled the ears of a flabbergasted Isaac.

The bite didn't even last a full minute, but for Isaac, it seemed to last an eternity… but the torrent of jealousy he'd thought would overcome him upon watching such a scene unfold before his eyes never came. Instead, all he could think of was the expression of pure bliss on your face as fangs were embedded deep in your neck… and oh, just when was the last time he'd heard such delightfully lewd moan from you? You would always moan sweetly for him each time he made love to you, but there's something, something undeniably raw and purely erotic about your moans in that fleeting moment.

And that something shattered some of his own conventions and inhibitions about sex.

Your eyes still clouded over with lust, your wandering gaze locked with Isaac's. Though you weren't sure whether the gasp that came after was from pleasure over the vampire in your arms nursing the puncture wounds in your neck with his skillful tongue, or the mixture of surprise and guilt after inevitably getting caught in the act, what you can be sure of was that the dark look in his eyes wasn't that of jealousy… but something that more or less aligns with what Arthur had predicted while he was divulging his plans to you earlier.

Your body tensed as Isaac silently approached the two of you, but Arthur seemed to share none of your worries as he nonchalantly greeted your lover.

"Just in time, Newt. Like what you see?"

"Sh-shut up!" Isaac's cheeks burned up over Arthur's casual inquiry, but he didn't exactly refute it as he smoothed a thumb over the bite marks on your neck. The other vampire merely shrugged him off and wasted no time as he began to unbutton your blouse, capturing one of your breasts in his mouth.

And in the same manner that he made no attempts to deny Arthur's accusation, he also made no attempts to keep the other vampire from biting you a second time– if anything, he was way too focused with the lewd expressions you made as you attempted to drown out your moans by sucking on his probing fingers.

"Does i-it really feel that g-good?" Isaac asked, and naturally, your opportunistic seducer deemed that moment to be a perfect time to amp up the pleasure he was giving you, effectively reducing you into a moaning mess as though to prove a point in lieu of a verbal answer.

"Newt, it's unreasonable to ask such questions," Arthur remarked as he made a show of licking his blood-stained lips.

"Unreasonable? I think you're the one who's being unre–"

"It's pointless trying to quantify something as bottomless as pleasure, is what I'm trying to say," Arthur leaned dangerously close to Isaac until he had him backed completely against the headboard, "But then it's just as pointless trying to explain that in words… so what do you say I show you what I mean, Newt?"

Arthur's teasing caused an extremely flustered Isaac to break out into goosebumps, and as though that wasn't enough for him, you finally began paying attention to the painfully hard bulge in his pants. His brain swam in equal parts of anticipation and trepidation as Arthur inched closer and closer while you nimbly freed his erection.

"O-ooh G-Gods…!" He threw his head back in pleasure as you gave the tip of his cock a few little licks, the warmth of your mouth enveloping his length enough to make him forget about the imminent danger closing in on him as his reaction consequently left his own neck vulnerable.

Moans and curses filled the room as Arthur latched onto Isaac's neck, the latter's expression morphing from utter bewilderment into that of newfound euphoria, a whole new world unraveling before him as the bite of a fellow vampire injected pleasure directly into his veins, while your mouth greedily suctioned the pre-cum that served as proof of just how delightfully overwhelmed he was.

'So this is how it feels to be thoroughly lost in pleasure.'

Arthur withdrew with a satisfied smirk, and looking Isaac directly in the eye, he imparted his lesson,

"And that's how it's done, Newt. You need to think of biting a woman in the same way you would plan about fucking her silly…" Arthur briefly paused to whip out his own neglected erection then positioned it by your entrance, "...If you want the pleasure to last longer, then you need to be able to fuck her over and over again..." he rasped as he buried his length down your dripping core on a leisurely pace, finishing his statement only after all of him was inside you, "...and the only way you can do that is by moderating your pace and self."

True to his words, Arthur started off with an excruciatingly slow pace.

"A-Arthur! Y-You tease…!"

Isaac clearly didn't like the short interval when your mouth left his cock however, and the next thing you knew, he was eagerly thrusting it into your mouth. So whereas Arthur was taking his sweet time unraveling you by your core, Isaac, who'd been built-up ever since he'd stepped into your room, was rather desperate for his release. Hence, despite his intent to follow the advice Arthur had given him just now, the novelty of this whole experience proved to be too much for him. One way or another, he just had to unleash his feral side before he could even hope to put into practice what had just been taught to him.

Craving for a full view of your lecherous expressions and him ramming his cock into your mouth, Isaac yanked your hair back so that your eyes were on him. His eyes were bottomless pools of ferocious lust and smoldering need as he did your mouth in the same manner he would do your pussy whenever he's about to climax, but one of the more notable differences is the feel of his swelling cock. While the sensation was rather subtle when it was within your pussy, the increase in size was more perceptible within your mouth as your lover's thick length began to breach your throat, but if anything, the sight of tears brimming on your eyes as you gagged on his cock only seemed to ignite a more vicious fire in him as his thrusts grew more frantic.

"My, my, would you look at that? I knew Newt had a lot of pent-up desires, but who would've thought he was this intense?" Arthur, whose thrusts were starting to match Isaac's, leaned over to whisper in your ear, "...and if I had to guess, that's one of the things you secretly like the best about him, don't you?"

You were obviously in no position to entertain his questions though, but that didn't keep him from running his dirty mouth in between the little nibbles he made along your back.

"Just look at him, little dove. Do you see any ounce of reservation in him as he indulges in making you choke on his cock? He didn't even had any qualms about sharing you with me now, did he? And unless my eyes are deceiving me… he's actually into this, don't you think?"

No sooner than those words had left Arthur's lips that Isaac came heavily in one last powerful thrust, filling your throat and oral cavity with his thick and creamy release. His eyes gleamed in sheer perverted delight as your abused mouth quivered along with the throbbing of his cock, and oh, how he loved it when the excess cum dripped from your lips as he pulled out his cock.

"Beautiful... you're so beautiful when you make that kind of face…" he exhaled dreamily as he knelt in front of you and smeared your cheeks with the cum on your chin, before lifting and seating you properly on Arthur's meat. Your lover showered your chest with kisses as he kept his hands busy squeezing your ass, while you fervently rode your seducer's cock as you grew increasingly wanton and desperate for your own release. As though he could read your actions, Isaac took that opportunity to tenderly sink his fangs just above your chest, and the pleasure that coupled the unusually gentle bite from your lover brought you closer to your climax.

A broken scream ripped through your still aching throat as you finally orgasmed, and Isaac held your body close to his as it convulsed with raw sexual enrapturement. With your walls closing in on his cock so tightly, it didn't take long before Arthur joined you in your bliss, and soon his balls and the rest of his crotch were glistening with a mixture of your sinful juices.

"How was it?" Arthur asked breathlessly.

"G-good. It's s-so damn good, A-Arthur," You replied in between pants while you soothingly ran your fingers through Isaac's smooth hair, who had just finished having his little fill of you.

Arthur chuckled softly. "Then do you want more?"

"I d-don't know if I– aah! Isaac, what are you– oooohhh~!"

In the blink of an eye, Isaac had flipped you over and buried his still semi-hard cock into your pussy before you could even say anything.

"Please…" Isaac purred sweetly in your ears, voice dripping with need, "I promise I'll be gentle this time, so please… let me devour and fill you up some more…"

"Y-Yes, Isaac. You know I'm all yours…"

Compared to his pace from before, this time Isaac's thrusts were more regular, but he makes a point of pounding in deeply every once in a while, as though the rhythmic slapping of your ass against his lap were music to his ears. Not wanting to miss out on the action, Arthur crawled up to kiss you passionately while his hands roamed all over your body.

"Arthur," Isaac called out as he gave his fellow vampire a light nudge on the shoulder, "Don't kiss her… I want to hear her voice."

"Sure," Your seducer willingly honored your lover's request with a devious grin, before suggesting, "In fact, if hearing her voice is what you fancy… I’d be more than willing to help you out with that.”

"Do as you wish," came Isaac's brief reply before he busied his mouth nuzzling and nibbling on your nape and shoulders.

On the other hand, Arthur immediately followed through with his suggestion, inserting two fingers into your core. He then proceeded to track down the sensitive spots all over your body, grazing his fangs ever so slightly over the places he has marked you.

"Like what you hear, Newt? She's quite the wildcat, isn't she?" Arthur said before taking out his fingers, admiring the several thin lines of your juices connecting them together before offering it to his fellow vampire, "I bet you already know this, but I can tell that she's absolutely scrumptious down there too."

Isaac briefly halted his ministrations on your neck to lick off your juices on Arthur's fingers, and you couldn't help but find that little gesture severely arousing. After his fingers had been thoroughly cleaned, Arthur brought his fingers back into your core, this time with a third finger that went inside. His fingers matched the pace of your lover’s cock, and soon the wet sounds of your juices being thoroughly churned joined the harmony of obscene sounds that filled the room.

"I-I'm gonna c-cum again, o-oooh, I'm gonna– aaaaaahhhhh!" You came instantaneously as Isaac bit into his side of your neck. Arthur withdrew his fingers once more, this time to have his share of your essence from two of his three fingers heavily coated with your release. He consumed it in the most salacious manner possible, and though his mouth may be busy with his crude display, you could've sworn his eyes did all the dirty smiling for him with how lewdly he regarded you with them.

He was about to move on to the last finger when Isaac let go of your neck, and quite reluctantly, Arthur offered it to him once more.

"You're sweeter than usual," Isaac remarked after he finished his second serving of your juice.

"That's because there's two of us, Newt," Arthur said before putting his fingers back inside you, this time pumping it on a faster pace than Isaac's cock and using his thumb to stimulate your clit.

"Is that true?" Isaac asked, but he already knew the answer as your moans grew more shrill with the other vampire's skilled fingers building you up through your third orgasm for that night. Fueled by the sounds you make and the way your warm, beautifully flushed body writhed against his own, Isaac sped up his own thrusts. Over the course of the time it took for both of you to reach your next orgasms, Isaac and Arthur took turns in biting your neck.

The alternating waves of pleasure it brought you was so much that when you finally came, all the accumulated pleasure that had seeped into your limbs wore you down and robbed you of your strength as you released them all at once. Isaac reached his own climax just a few moments after you did, and it didn't take long before the two of you inevitably collapsed in a pile on top of Arthur, who rolled his exhausted fellow vampire into his side but kept you on top of him.

Setting stray locks of your disheveled hair from your face behind your ears, he looked into your drowsy eyes, and with a victorious smile, he reiterated his words from that morning,

"See? I told you so."

Commissions Page | Ikevamp Fics

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp isaac #ikevamp fanfic #ikemen vampire fanfiction #ikevamp commission #ikemen vampire isaac #ikemen vampire arthur #ikemen series

58 notes · View notes

toloveawarlord · 4 years

Text

Ch. 2

Characters: Elaine, Arthur x Theo, Vincent

Pairing: Elaine x Isaac (eventually)

Tagging: @plumpblueberry @lady-moonbroch

A/N: This chapter turned out nothing like the first draft XD Enjoy some Elaine spending time with her Uncle and she meets a boy!

Four days into her new job as Theo’s assistant, the mood in their home had drastically lifted. Elaine never complained and paid close attention to every task given to her, exceeding all expectations. She quoted things he’d said to her years ago and questioned smartly, craving the knowledge he had. Having her along had proved quite useful with prickly clients, smoothing over situations with a charming smile and sweet words, likely emulating Arthur.

Theo enjoyed having time with her. In recent years, they’d grown strained. The teenager wanted more freedom and broke rules in place to protect her because she believed them unnecessary. Now, at nearly eighteen in only two days, she’d fought harder. Being able to keep an eye on her put the art dealer at little more at ease.

His daughter sat across from him, glancing at him out of the corner of her vision. Elaine hadn’t taken the news that she couldn’t accompany him today well. Instead of anger, she’d pouted silently all morning.

“I take it that you aren’t happy with today’s agenda,” Arthur piped up with an amused grin not quite hidden by his cup of steaming coffee. The previous night Theo had informed him of the impending unhappy teenager.

Elaine stuffed the fork full of pancakes into her mouth, enough to make her cheeks puff out to match her frown. She’d gotten up extra early and made pancakes and extra sweet coffee, but the answer remained unchanged. Now, she wanted to drown her sorrows in syrup and butter until she got sick.

“Vincent has asked for you to help him today while I’m gone.” Theo could easily see the motive behind his brother’s sudden request. He’d promised to make her do some work instead of spoiling her the entire day.

The teenager flinched at those words. She couldn’t very well turn down her uncle, as she adored him so much. Help isn’t the word she’d choose to describe what the day would entail. He’d likely ask her to do a small task or two, nothing that required much effort. “Fine. I guess I can do that.”

Working didn’t bother her. She assisted around the house with the chores without complaint. If Comte asked, she would readily agree. It irritated her that this client wouldn’t allow her entrance to his home, prompting this sour mood. No promises of being quiet or staying outside had swayed Theo. He couldn’t risk spooking the man.

“If you find yourself in need of something to do, I can have you proofread for me.” Her grimace only made the mystery writer chuckle again. Her disdain for that job well-known. Though she enjoyed his stories, playing editor didn’t appeal to her. A tedious thing.

Theo cracked a grin, rising from the table. “You better thank Vincent for saving you from that.” One check of his watch ended the conversation. He bid his family farewell before heading into town alone.

“Are you sure you don’t want to help your Papa with his work?” Arthur teased further. He had been a tad jealous that she eagerly wanted to assist Theo over the course of the week. Ah, but he was also grateful that the two were more understanding of each other.

Elaine stacked all the empty plates to carry them to the kitchen. “I love you but no.” Her curt reply still amusing. Setting the dishes in the sink, she licked the sticky syrup off her fingers.

“Off you go then. I’ll take care of the cleanup.”

The young vampire didn’t need to be told twice. Housework didn’t appeal to her either. She did her part, pitching in when needed, but if told she didn’t have to do it... the teenager bailed as quickly as she could.

Inside the mansion, the hallways were quiet and empty. At this hour, everyone should be awake, except for Leonardo perhaps. Rapping her fist against Vincent’s door, she cast confused glances down the hallway.

“Goede morgen, Elaine,” Vincent greeted with a bright smile. He laughed softly at her confusion. Since Arthur and Theo had moved out of the mansion with her when she was only 4 years old, daily happenings didn’t reach their house as quickly as it spread through the mansion. “We’re the only ones here today.”

“I’m okay with that.” She flashed a disheartened smile, unable to shake the dark cloud hanging over her. Her normally mischievous and lively attitude disappeared. The others might have tried to make her understand. She understood perfectly fine.

That didn’t make it less saddening.

“Come here.” He’d barely open his arms and invited his niece to find comfort with him when the teenager stepped forward and accepted the warm hug. Vincent stroked his fingers through her copper hair. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but she reminded him so much of Theo when he was a child. “You know, he couldn’t stop talking about how wonderful you were on the job.”

“Really?”

It wasn’t that he hadn’t said so to her. Theo would give praise often, especially when she came up with new ideas. Telling the others about it, that was rarer.

Vincent hummed in response, a gentle smile on his lips as she peeked up at him. “I’d say he was outright bragging. I’m not surprised. You’re his daughter after all.” Placing a kiss on the top of her head, he laughed softly at her uplifted mood.

Elaine lingered a little longer before releasing him, soaking up his sunshine-like warmth. “I guess I could stop pouting about it.” Relenting her sad feelings, she sighed softly before questioning. “So, what was it you wanted my help with?”

“I finished the final painting and I thought I’d ask for your expert advice on where to put it in the gallery space. That is, if you want to.” His request was well-received with a glowing smile from his niece. Theo had mentioned that he’d given her the sole responsibility of choosing how to use the space to best showcase the art. The uncle looked forward to seeing what she’d done.

***********

The paintings on the wall were shrouded in black cloth, to hide the precious items from view until the day of the showing. Only a select few knew what was beneath, ones trusted by Theo to make this a success. Elaine had been gifted one of the only keys to venue, a testament to her importance.

“I believe I’m looking forward to this event more than any other,” Vincent commented, allowing the staff to hang the framed piece in its designated spot.

The heat in her cheeks caused the teenager to turn her gaze anywhere else. “It’s not much different from how Vader does it. I’ve been to more of these than any other event in the city.” The location changed but ever since she learned to walk, she’d been toddling around, observing, and learning how it works. Before she’d even realized, she’d begun understanding color theory and composition.

“It wasn’t too long ago that you were only a few years old and correcting patrons on the medium or style of the art. You always had this incredibly serious expression, much like Theo.”

“That was so long ago! I’m almost eighteen!”

Vincent chuckled with a loving smile. “Yes, I guess that’s right.”

The chime of the door timed perfectly with one of the staff calling to speak with Vincent. Elaine stepped away to investigate the newcomer. Violet eyes narrowed at the sight of a boy, likely no older than herself, attempting to take a peek at the portrait veiled by the black cloth. “Excuse me, but you can’t be in here.” Her tone less than polite, Elaine thrust her palms against his chest to push him away from the art piece.

“Oh, my apologies. I’ve been most curious about why there are staff entering but it’s never been open for business.” His emerald eyes filled with hidden intent that didn’t quite match the half smirk on his lips. The boy never resisted her pushing him back to the door and onto the street. “A secretive operation, I presume, miss?”

“Elaine and we don’t open for another two days.”

Her biggest fear was that he was a spy for le academia and all of her father’s hard work would go to waste if they were discovered. He didn’t fit the typical appearance of a high bred family, usually scrawny and uptight, and he wasn’t either of those things.

“I’ll have to pop in when you are open. My name is Leon Autry.” He flashed another brilliantly smug smile and winked. “Might I inquire your surname, should I have any future questions?” The reason lost on the recipient. He’d yet to ask anything relevant to the gallery.

Elaine turned on her heel to return inside. “It’s Doyle.” Even though she didn’t quite like the boy, she couldn’t risk turning away a potential buyer. Her cheeks were warm, and it wasn’t clear if it was from embarrassment or anger. The young pureblood didn’t have many friends her age, and that led to a bit of awkwardness when around humans her age.

“Ah, like the writer.”

The girl stilled, hand hovering above the door handle. Perhaps she’d heard him incorrectly.

“You might not know of him. He’s a British writer, mystery, I think.”

Or perhaps not.

“I believe it’s Arthur Conan Doyle. Any relation?” Leon asked as if he already knew the answer, like playing a game of truth or dare in order reveal a secret for confirmation.

Elaine relaxed her shoulders. Although she could hardly admit that she was indeed was the daughter of that very Arthur, albeit the vampire one, she wouldn’t allow him to glean that precious information from her. “No, but you aren’t the first to ask. But wouldn’t that be grand? Imagine being related to someone as talented as that.” Her dreamy smile fowled his for a moment.

“Imagine.” The façade of his grin had ghosted away for a split second, but it didn’t go unnoticed.

“Elaine, are you ready to head back?” A third party interrupted, much welcomed by the girl. Vincent approached the two, protectively a half step in front of his niece. The tension between the two children enough to worry him.

Her head bobbed once in response. “Yes, let’s go home.” The way Leon’s eyes followed her unsettled the girl. Elaine settled back on the seat in the carriage, mulling over the strange interaction. Was it so unusual for someone to draw a connection between her name and the human Arthur from this era?

Whatever the case, she now had a proper mystery on her hands.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp arthur #ikevamp theo #ikevamp vincent #ikemen vampire fanfiction #arthur and theo have a child #elaine odette doyle #truth in simplicity #isaac is coming soon i promise

17 notes · View notes

dear-mrs-otome · 5 years

Text

In Defense of Theo...

Nobody asked for this, and probably nobody even wants this, but somewhere out there is at least one person wondering….how can anyone actually like this asshole? He’s a sadistic prick that belittles MC left and right, and I gotta admit - I was right there with you. When I first started playing Ikemen Vampire, I could barely stand Theo. The ‘dog’ thing was grating, the smug smirk didn’t seem as if it could possibly cover any softer sides, and especially with the sweetheart Vincent always nearby - why would anyone even look twice at his little brother?

Then I played one route with a Theo cameo. And then a second. And I started to notice a pattern...that when MC needed someone to lean on, Theo was always there. That somehow, quietly and with every bit of solid advice he dispensed, he forced me to think that maybe, just maybe, I’d misjudged him.

Maybe you’ve already made up your mind. Maybe he’ll never win you over. But for those curious as to why he torpedoed every preconception I had about him, feel free to read on - just be forewarned that after the cut, there will be unavoidable spoilers. I tried to keep things fairly vague, but some specifics are impossible to skirt when you’re talking about Theo and his motivations.

Starting with a simple list of Theo’s traits, so we can get those laid out right off the bat:

Theo’s strengths

Passionate

Idealistic

Ambitious

Reliable/Supportive

Selfless

Charismatic

Observant/Good at reading people

Protective

Theo’s weaknesses

Tunnel-visioned

Self-sacrificing

Doesn’t value self/Bases value on others

Bad Communicator re:Emotions

Wrathful

Stifling

Stubborn

Just like the vast majority of people, Theo’s strengths and weaknesses are often just reflections of each other - a trait when taken to its extreme becomes a flaw. Passion and idealism can become an inability to focus on anything outside of your values, selflessness can be taken to rash lengths, a desire to protect those we love can result in us smothering them and restricting their own efforts to grow.

But at heart, what to keep in mind when trying to understand Theo boils down to two things: 1) he will give anything, and I do mean anything - up to and including his very life - in service of those people and things he cares about and 2) deep down he undervalues himself criminally, no matter how arrogant and full of swagger he seems on the surface. More than once he says he’s just a ‘regular man’ and nothing in comparison to the geniuses and great figures that fill the mansion.

When MC first interacts with Theo in his own route, she’s terrified of him. He’s gruff, intimidating and intense, and strong-arms her into a working partnership she has little to no interest in initially. But over time she begins to see him for what he really is, and how her first impression of him was so far off the mark. She falls in love with his enthusiasm, his enduring love for art, and his dedication to artistic expression and frankly that’s very relatable. Who hasn’t been swayed by witnessing someone else’s passion and activism? His example inspires her to find her own commitment to a cause and the determination to stand up for things she believes worth preserving, no matter the cost.

Later on in his route is when the revelation comes to light that for certain reasons, Theo feels intensely responsible for her presence in the mansion. Everything he does, both in his own route from the very start, and the hints we see in other people’s, points to his sense of obligation to her and his desire to protect her and be a support she can rely on.

Despite all his talk of her being the ‘dog’, it’s Theo who is the real dog - a guard dog, fiercely loyal and committed to those he loves and incredibly protective of them. He grills Arthur’s MC to be sure that she cares about his friend for the right reasons, he jumps to Vincent’s defense at the slightest provocation (the same way he has ever since they were children and he defended him from bullies), and he is ready and willing to sacrifice everything he’s known and valued to preserve MC’s happiness - going so far as to choose to travel to the future with her in one of his endings so that she doesn’t have to give up the things that are important to her for his sake.

One of the things I find fascinating about Theo is that unlike the vast majority of tsunderes, his ‘walls’ and his outwardly off-putting behavior aren’t the result of some traumatic experience. His special brand of asshole-ism isn’t a reaction but more a proactive, conscious choice - it’s a role he’s opted to mold himself into. In Theo’s route, Vincent confesses to MC that their parents favored Theo, and he believes Theo has always pushed himself to act the way that he has so that their parents would hate him and love Vincent more. It’s easy to see how this is a pattern that has extended itself into adulthood, with Theo ready, willing, and able to make himself the ‘devil’ to Vincent’s ‘angel’ if it makes Vincent look better by comparison.

That’s not to say that he doesn’t naturally struggle with being open emotionally, in the other grand tsundere tradition. Theo often is tripped up by the fact that he’s so very adept at reading other people (in his own route, he’s clearly aware of MC’s affection long before she tries to tell him, and says as much to Arthur) that it seems to him as if the way he feels should be obvious, without being stated. He’s a man of actions and to him, they hold far more weight than words ever could. He struggles to comprehend that MC especially needs vocal, concise affirmation of his feelings...but anytime his errors or flaws are pointed out to him he takes quick action to rectify them and reassure her of her importance to him, and that’s a consistent trait across his route and events.

And, important she is. Theo repeatedly expresses the sentiment that MC has saved him, or is his salvation (we’re keeping with the devil theme here clearly) - that he’d be damned without her. His second life is dead-set on a disastrous, tragic course when she comes crashing into it, and through nothing more than recognizing his good qualities and supporting his ideals she eventually proves to him that his life is worth something. That he is worth something. She gives him a new definition by which to value himself, and he is impossibly and eternally grateful to her for that.

As a couple, they come to find support and strength in each other, and truly realize that they can be and do far greater things together than apart. It’s refreshing to see an otome couple that goes through hell and comes out the other side not just lovers but partners in every best sense of the word, because that is what real lasting love is built on - not the chemistry and the passion of moments, but the enduring commitment to face the world and its hardships together and realizing that unified...there’s nothing that can you can’t conquer.

There’s a vast amount more I could unpack about Theo - the relationship between him and Vincent alone is complex and borderline toxic, as much as I adore it, and it deserves an entire essay as well. But in the interest of not completely spoiling his route I’m going to save that rambling for another time and place...although if anyone wants to discuss that or anything else I’d mentioned here, please feel free to hit me up anytime to chat. I’m always happy to blather about my favorite fang-faced asshole.

#ikemen vampire #ikevamp #ikevamp theo #ikevamp theodorus #theodorus van gogh #spoiler #spoilers #ikevamp spoilers #ikevamp discourse #this got long and stupidly rambly and incoherent #sorry friends i'm not better at this stuff #but i felt compelled to try and shed some light on this complicated guy #hopefully with at least some degree of success #bottom line is #please give him a chance #when his route comes #character analysis

943 notes · View notes

arthurjdrake · 4 years

Text

For Keeps : Alain & Arthur

Summary: A phoenix and a hunter go into a bar. (aka Amelie and I somehow never posted a doc we wrote like 3 months ago don’t judge us) >_> Parties: Arthur and @carbrakes-and-stakes

Recent events had come to show that sometimes meeting new people (Leah especially) didn’t always go terribly, and the little he’d experienced of Alain so far from their online conversations gave Arthur a strangely positive vibe. He couldn’t say what it was, but shared interests were certainly a scene setter for an interesting afternoon over beer if nothing else. Though it transpired with recent revelations that his interest in Alain was further vested in gauging just what sort of person he was and just what Evelyn saw in him that made her interested in being with him. Call it protective curiosity. The Perfect Pint was a decent enough establishment and one he frequented if only for the full plate of good food and Guinness they had on tap. A sizeable establishment with light filtering through slightly grimy windows, it smelled like an ashtray but was relatively clean by most pubs standards. Not to mention the presence of several dart boards and snooker tables for patrons to use if they so pleased. Wooden stools lined up against the bar resembled careless soldiers. Two were occupied and Arthur was five minutes early. So he leaned on the darkwood bar, occasionally sipping a cool pint of Guinness while watching the highlights scrolling on the screen and wincing at a particularly nasty tackle.

Alain pushed the door to The Perfect Pint expecting to have a peaceful moment for once. No hunting, no arguing, not questioning everything. Just chatting with someone with common interests and seeing where that led. Not going to the Silver Bullet for once would also be a nice change. It must have been months since he last went to a normal bar. Being greeted by the sound of football matches and people playing pool was a nice change, and it reminded Alain of the few weeks he had spent in Europe a couple years ago. Now he did not care much for the smell of cigarettes, but if this was all he could complain about, then he would not complain at all. Recognizing some customers as he made his way to the counter, he nodded politely and took a seat with the man he figured would be Arthur. If not, then things would probably get awkward really quick. “Bonjour,” he greeted him, figuring that would be enough of a tell. The bartender approaching, he ordered himself a pint of Amber Ale and turned his attention back to Arthur. “I hope I’m not late.”

There weren’t too many people in town Arthur felt he could go down to the pub to simply have a drink with, he was woefully short on friends who weren’t so studiously academic that it was kind of funny to imagine them in a setting like this. Plus, it reminded him of home in an inexplicable way. From the smell to the darkwood features of the pub, like his local back in Twickenham. Occasionally he glanced at his wrist-watch checking and rechecking the time, the smooth carved wood of its casing a familiar comfort in its proximity. As a figure approached and sat down beside him he turned, body-language relaxed and comfortable, an amicable smile warming his features upon hearing the French. “Salut,” he greeted with a small dip of his head, taking a moment to just study Alain, taking in the years around his eyes and features, the stubborn lingering grease around his fingernails and a missing finger as well. Interesting. Arthur vaguely remembered him saying he was a mechanic in a past conversation. A bit rough around the edges but he could see the appeal though it was the personality he was more intrigued to learn more about. “Not at all,” he laughed quietly at the sentiment with a shake of his head “no, I’m just partial to being early.” He let Alain order before he leaned back a little, “so you own the garage in town right? How’s business been going for you lately?”

If Alain could feel like he was being scrutinized, he didn’t mention it to Arthur, and instead, pretended to look just about anywhere else. He had never been here, so this gave him a good enough excuse not to be attentive. “Is it really how pubs look in the UK?” The place looked like a postcard, and a whole lot like pubs that claimed to be authentic, and he couldn’t quite decide if it was really close to the actual thing or a caricature. Clearly, the mime places weren’t as authentic as they claimed to be, so maybe this was the case here as well. He rubbed at the corner of his eye with one finger and thanked the bartender as he came back with his drink. “Do you actually speak French or…” either way, there would be no hard feelings, but once again, he was curious, which was a good indicator : a bored Alain did not ask questions and hardly spoke. Taking a sip from his pint, he leaned back a little in the seat and nodded in reply to Arthur’s question. “Business is doing alright. I’ve had a few good months with the falling fish. Lots of shattered windshields, lots of intensive cleaning too,” scratching the back of his neck, he shrugged. With the big lobsters, a bunch of cars had been roughly damaged, and considering he had to spend some time off work, all those events had helped keeping the cash coming. “What about you. You’re a teacher, right?”

“It’s not a bad imitation of one considering they even have an old geezer eating roasted peanuts” Arthur admitted eyeing another patron at one of the tables in the corner. “Plus this is the only place I can actually catch games when they’re on, even if it is at like one AM… Granted it’s worth staying up if only for the Irish breakfast.” The question was met with a nod, “I speak a little to pass conversation. I’m kinda rusty and the amount of exceptions to all the tenses always catches me in one place or another…” He shrugged a shoulder taking a sip of his beer “personally, I think it’s important especially if you’re going to live somewhere for a while you know? Too many people just expect everyone else to cater to them just because they’re too lazy and entitled to learn another language.” That was a trait that bothered him about most people growing up in an anglophone environment, the lack of desire to even try and relate to people from other walks of life; forcing them to adapt from their culture. It was hardly fair in his mind. “Ha, yeah I can imagine there’s all sorts of interesting things that keep you busy. The newspaper mentioned something about screaming moose you know? I never thought I’d live anywhere that the wildlife would be much of an issue.” Or maybe he should’ve considered that before moving to White Crest. “Yeah! I teach up at the university, history and mythology department. Certainly no lack of folklore around these parts.”

“What?” Alain followed Arthur’s eyes and his shoulders shook with amusement at the sight of the old geezer eating roasted peanuts. “Alright, that is authentic for sure,” he had another sip of beer. Listening to the man talk, his brows furrowed. “You’re kidding? This is like music to my insomniac ears,” of course insomnia was a stretch, but Alain was not about to tell Arthur that he was a vampire hunter, and that as a result, he really didn’t need to sleep that much. Insomniac seemed a lot more simple. “Night entertainment and food, I’m sold,” he scoffed. Now was he surprised to hear that Arthur struggled with the french language? Not really. “Hey, if you ever need practice, you know where to find me,” he offered. It did not cost him much, and he liked chatting in his native language. Really a win win. “I agree. I mean, obviously if you’re only here for a week, there’s only so much you can do, but don’t expect everyone to speak your own language, that’s… logical,” he shrugged, refraining from rolling his eyes. “You just have to be … logical,” he repeated. Clearly things were easier for him when he visited France, but his time in Spain had been quite something, as he could only remember very few things in Spanish. “Screaming moose?” His eyebrows raised and he glanced to the side, clearly concerned. Could it be due to supernatural reasons? Possible. He’d have to ask Kaden about that one. “Clearly not. The area is quite … rich in folklore. I think we’re a good tie with Louisiana and Salem,” he agreed. “What is your favorite folklore story?”

“See?” Arthur chuckled eyes crinkling at the corners in his mirth at the token sight that seemed a staple in most pubs back home, there was always at least one. “No way! I kid about a lot of things but not that. Definitely not when it comes to a full Irish and watching rugby or football. For sure, next time there’s something on I’ll let you know, even if it does mean I have to sit and watch France play--” he lamented with a put-upon look though it was all in jest. Insomnia was interesting but hardly surprising in a town such as this; there could be any host of reasons behind it. “I might take you up on that, I find it hard not to be so formal in structuring the sentences...” Arthur tilted his glass a little “well, yeah sure but I still think if you’re going to visit another country it’s at least polite to try. It’s just always been a pet peeve, just people being so self-involved they don’t think about trying to make an effort for anyone else.” Alain seemed surprised and Arthur’s brows furrowed, “didn’t you see the newspaper? It was a while back but something about Sunday at sundown being when moose would scream? Seemed a bit weird… I didn’t know moose could scream… Just thought they trampled things.” But hey, wild life could surprise you especially in a town like this.

“Rich is an understatement,” he said with a shake of his head. “Issue is most of the stories around these parts were passed down by word of mouth… Not many actual documents to look at.” There was a spark that always seemed to light up his features whenever he got into a discussion about folklore, “oh, would totally have to be the Huldufólk - the hidden folk - Icelanders believe they’re hidden elves that live in the shadows between rocks, it’s said they love to dance and invade farms at Christmas to hold wild parties. That their origins come from the Garden of Eden, when God visited Adam and Eve, Eve was washing their children and hadn’t finished… Embarrassed, she hid the unwashed children and lied about their existence. To punish her God declared that the children she hid would be hidden from all of mankind and so the first Huldufólk came to be.” It was an interesting and unique narrative and one that had always intrigued him. “How about you? Do you take any interest in folklore?”

Pursing his lips, Alain remained silent as he turned to look at the other man, looking as offended as he looked amused by his comment on French teams. “Let’s not mention that England has not won a world cup in football since the 60s, despite being such a great nation of football, then, shall we?” clearing his throat, he took a sip of beer to hide his smile. Such an argument could go on for days, for sure, but it seemed like Arthur was not the kind to start pointless arguments. “There’s nothing wrong with that. I will admit to being less formal than I used to be,” it had been a while since he left the Babineaux household, and his speech level had grown simpler with time. “Of course. Portugal was awkward, I didn’t speak a damn word of portuguese and had to rely on one of those tiny vocabulary books,” he mimed the rough size of said book with his hands and raised his eyebrows in despair as he remembered how thankful he was that most people knew more English than he knew Portugese. “Yeah, some people do have a hard time not focusing on themselves,” scratching at the back of his neck, Alain looked thoughtful for a moment, staring into the gap. “They kind of sound like nazguls when they scream,” he finally commented, but it usually happened a bit later in the year. Alain had not exactly planned to discuss rut season, but if this was where the conversation was heading, why not?

“Like most stories. And it’s not like books or history is any better. It’s always written by those who survive, or those who won,” biased, but at least the version couldn’t change once printed on paper. You could tell how enthusiastic Arthur was about the subject, and it was refreshing. Leaning against his elbow, the hunter listened to the scholar talk about some ancient legend. The story sounded a bit too polished to be the truth, but he did not doubt that Iceland had a bunch of little folks living in the shadow. “It’s hard not to when you spend your whole life in this town. I’m afraid I don’t have stories to tell however,” clearly this was a lie, but Alain knew better than to start telling people he barely knew about his night time activities.

“True,” though Arthur raised a brow in mild challenge, “but what we do have are three six nations titles to the name in the last ten years. So I think that counts for something. You can take football, I’ll take rugby. Issue settled.” It was banterous and Arthur’s grin was cheeky in spite of himself. “You tend to get that way with time, formalities are nice but they can be so constricting to adhere to all the time.” He snorted a little at the comparison, “oh Gods don’t ruin Nazguls for me like that. No no that’s not allowed.” Lord of the Rings was sacred in this sphere and nothing, especially no moose screaming was allowed to ruin it.

“I mean that’s true of almost anything in life. It’s just nice to actually have some hard evidence to work from rather than just the word of mouth. At least that way you can start to deduce what influences there might’ve been on a source.” Perhaps the story was too polished, too easily wrapped up but it was a nice tale nonetheless. Not everything in the world had to be all doom and gloom. So what if there were elves that liked to play games and pull tricks. “Huh, really? Did you grow up here?”

“Heh, fine,” then coughing to jokingly hide what he was about to say, he added in a hurry, “Football’s better anyway.” Obviously coughing was not meant to really hide anything, and he found himself laughing. Shaking his head, he ran a hand in his hair and sighed heavily. “Formalities are fine by me, although I wouldn’t hope to see me ‘formal’,” he scratched at the corner of his mouth, shook his head and took a sip of beer again. Once again he found himself laughing at the man’s reaction. Alain really would have to stop insulting everything Arthur liked. “Nazguls ruined themselves on their own. Moose have the right to ruin them more,” it appeared they had yet another thing in common. Although he was never an hardcore fan, he still remembered the first time he read the Hobbit very fondly.

“Fair enough. I just feel like history is really biased and often misinterpreted too,” you just had to look at what people were taught at school. Maps placing their country in the middle of the world, wars lost barely mentioned… “I did grow up here. But no, no stories,” not any he wanted to tell. “I can however bore you to death about astronomy. Or myths related to constellations, although you probably already know them all.”

It wasn’t the worst, Arthur rather enjoyed a challenge and the fact Alain seemed willing to challenge ideas in a joking fashion was a good sign for the man’s own personality. “Noo!” he protested with a laugh waving his hand as if to try and stop the insults light-hearted as they were “that’s not allowed, only the waters of Bruinen are allowed to completely wreck the Nazguls or a hobbit with a frying pan. Sheesh these are the sorts of debates I used to get into with Evelyn. The real issues of life.” It wasn’t entirely true, this was one facet of many that he and Evelyn had discussed but Arthur was curious to see how Alain would react to hearing her name.

“It often is, but I think that’s part of the challenge of studying it. Knowing you have to work to try and uncover the obfuscated truth behind the fogs of what people want you to believe.” It was countless, the amount of times he’d tried to submit revisions based on contrary evidence, some had gone through while others… It was a tiring endeavor but one he’d continue to pursue regardless. “That would hardly bore me. I’ve been fascinated with astronomy since I was a child. There’s actually very little I find more interesting.”

“I don’t know,” Alain’s brows furrowed at the mention of hobbit held frying pans, and they furrowed some more at the mention of Evelyn. You could see the cogs turning and trying to figure out what this was about. Biting his lip, he shook his head. “You wouldn’t happen to be…” he tried to remember the words she used. “I think she might have mentioned that she had a favorite professor in town,” he scoffed, shaking his head. He supposed that it made sense that she would mention him to her mentor, as secretive as she could be, it was hard not to share some things.

If Alain had often had to do research, it was far from the academic kind, but that did not mean that he couldn’t dedicate entire days to gathering information on certain kinds of undead species. The hardest part was not knowing the species name and hoping to recognize characteristics in his readings. “That’s what I like with cars, they don’t usually tell lies, which makes my job a lot easier,” he doubted that cars would be something Arthur could be interested in, but he was not too surprised to hear that he liked astronomy too, but that did not mean he wouldn’t be excited about it. “Really?!” His tone of voice was unusually cheerful. “Then you have to join me for stargazing sometimes.”

It would be interesting to see what Alain came up with, and while he clearly processed the passing mention Arthur took a sip of his Guinness giving him time to think but out of the corner of his eye watching curiously. “Oh did she?” it was easy enough to feign mild surprise with just a dash of curiosity thrown in for good measure. He made a quietly amused sound, “yes, she does like to remind me of that as often as she can - along with the fact she was one of my brightest students… She’s hardly a forgettable person but if you know her I’m sure you’re aware of that fact.”

“Well, no lies if they’re built well. I once had a guy try to sell me a knockoff Bentley - full look of the thing but the insides were scavenged from hell. Luckily I didn’t agree to that deal.” While Arthur didn’t know much about cars, he knew which ones he liked and back in the day he’d raced the odd car here and there. So it was more a casual interest than a passionate hobby. The enlightened state that seemed to come over Alain’s features on the topic of Astrology - much in the same way his own lit up at the mention of mythology was interesting and Arthur could tell that whatever else, Alain was certainly someone he liked. “Stargazing? Sure, I’ve actually got a great telescope back at mine. Always try to do some Astrophotography when I’ve been out on fieldtrips… Nothing better than a long hike and taking some good photos. I’ll have to show you sometime.”

Alright, so maybe it was not completely a coincidence that he and Arthur had ended up talking to each other, although Alain hoped that they really shared the same interests. “She does leave a strong impression, a good impression,” he clarified. Even knowing that she was not really human, he couldn’t seem to be able to change the way he felt about her, and he was terrified by it, even though he liked to tell himself that if she had fed on him this whole time, he would change his mind about the woman he had feelings for. “I’m grateful we met.”

“The lies here come from that guy, people lie, not cars. If you ever want to acquire one of these, please do tell. I like restoring properly older cars. “The Continental Bentley from the 1950s is a real beauty, but hard to find in good shape these days,” the man’s enthusiasm didn’t waver as the subject changed to astronomy. Quite the contrary. “See, that’s something I struggle with. I never seem to be able to take a proper picture. I tried, but I think I’m just really not good with that kind of technology,” he liked taking pictures, and Evelyn liked having her picture taken which was a great combination, but when it came to space, it was almost disastrous. “You really need to show me. I could use that.”

“That’s true,” Arthur agreed, seeming to take measure of the answer and find it satisfactory “she’s quite a remarkable young woman.” Evelyn had been right, and from what Arthur could tell, Alain was being genuine. “How did you meet? If you don’t mind me asking?” Evelyn had been rather cryptic of late regarding Alain and Arthur was rather curious to learn the story there. “She’s a good friend of mine so I find myself interested in the people she surrounds herself with.”

While Arthur was still taking note of Alain’s general disposition, he seemed to relax into the new conversation put at ease by what he could read from the other man’s reaction regarding Evelyn. “It’s funny you mention that, I’ve got the Bentley Continental V8 here at the minute but back home I have a 1949 Bentley VI Saloon and a 1962 Chevrolet Corvette. They’re some of the best drives I think I’ve ever had on the road.” An understanding nod was given, “ah yeah, often you just have to spend a while playing around with the exposure on the camera and make sure you use a tripod to keep it stable. It’s a bugger but once you get the hang of it it’s not too bad.” He grinned clearly excited by the proposed idea “but sure, next time there’s something astrological going on, send me a message and I’ll give you a crash course. Maybe you can give me a crash course in cars.”

Young woman. He had to wonder if this was meant to be an attack or not. As far as he was concerned, yes, she was young, and yes, he was older, and it was uncommon, but it was something he and Evelyn had discussed. In the end, it was Alain who felt the least comfortable about the difference, not her. “Oh, ahem,” he mused. “Well, I was trespassing on her property, which is a great first impression apparently. I wanted to find a good spot to stargaze, but didn't know it was a private beach,” he trailed off. Yeah, that had been embarrassing, and he had considered fleeing the place the moment Evelyn disappeared to get a cardigan.

Now he was glad he did not.

“Oh.” Well he really was not a fan of the newer ones, as he found them a bit too soft looking, but he kept that to himself. And so it surprised him that Arthur seemed to like some very different cars, but he would not question the man’s taste. To each their own. “See Evelyn, she owns too many cars,” he scoffed. An understatement, although it was not really a surprise. She liked owning things, especially pretty things, and Alain wondered sometimes if there was a reason for that need. “Sure, that sounds lovely. Let’s just hope that my crash course involves no crashing cars,” shaking his head, he took another sip of beer. “I just think that people, just, everyone should know more about what’s under the hood.”

It was less an attack, more a statement of fact and Arthur’s view of evelyn. She was an incredible young woman. There was no further intention to the words than that and if he did notice any discomfort it wasn’t remarked on. He’d learned one lesson lately and that was to let some things lie. So instead, he listened to Alain’s story, leaning a little more on the bar with his interest fixed because he was genuinely curious to learn the tale and get a better understanding of his friend’s mind in this. “And did she stay out?” Arthur assumed so but better to get clarification just to be on the safe side.

“But I do have the other two older ones, I might get them shipped over at some point… I just didn’t know how permanent my residence here was going to be and I didn’t want to ship them and find myself heading back overseas you know? Too much hassle.” Though he had to laugh at the statement of Evelyn and cars, “she has too much stuff period. Always has, but I can hardly blame her for that.” Arthur had his own reasonings about why that might be the case but it wasn’t something to discuss right now. Alain was nice enough but not someone he’d chat in depth to about his long-time friends. Not yet at least. “Yeah, I’d rather not go out in a ball of flames.” The irony of that statement wasn’t lost on him. “You’re probably right, I guess it seems so foreign and alien to most people that even approaching the topic seems like a challenge. It’s kind of the same with history… or language. Some people nowadays are afraid of not being able to overcome the challenge I think.”

“She did,” he wrinkled his nose, “considering the reputation of Harris Island folks, I did consider for a moment that she was staying with me until the police arrived,” which was something that made him feel terrible, but could you really blame him. “I think she had nothing better to do,” Alain might have never been the luckiest person there was, but he always wondered what he could have possibly done to deserve her.

“I mean, that’s fair.” Alain rarely had to get cars imported, but he remembered having to import his own car from France, and how much of a hassle this had been. “I’d love to have a look at those, if you ever do get them shipped here,” he added, finishing his pint and searching for his wallet to pay the bartender. “Glad to know that she always has been this way,” he had a light laugh. Alain had given up on thinking of things he could offer her, hoping that memories could be things she would cherish more. “Let’s avoid that, yeah,” he shook his head. “People probably think it’s too complicated, too hard, too … I don’t know… That only some people are allowed to have this kind of knowledge,” the man had always been curious, and it was no surprise to learn that Arthur, an academic, felt the same way about learning new things.

“Understandable,” Arthur had met a few people that lived out that way and hadn’t been too impressed with them “Harris island folks can be pretty funny about strangers wandering onto their properties. Luckily she’s one of the better few out that way.”

“Sure, I’ll let you know if I ever make the decision to do that… Though considering how much glass damage it seems people complain about online I’m not sure if it’s something I’d really want to expose myself to… But I guess knowing a mechanic doesn’t hurt with that issue.” Setting his glass on the counter he pushed back a little. “Maybe, I guess some people just feel its unreachable for them in particular or they have no effort in pursuing the avenue to acquiring it.” Arthur waved his hand as he saw Alain reach for his wallet, fishing his card out the back of his phone case before good-naturedly adding “don’t worry about it, I’ll get them.”

“I suppose that’s what happens when you get a bit too out of touch with reality,” Alain was certain that his sister, or his parents, were the kind to react poorly to trespassers, and the reason he knew that was because he was himself not really fond of trespassers, and this, despite having spent the last two decades in the middle class.

“I don’t think soundproofing your garage is the answer to big noises, but hey, you now know a mechanic. I’m sure you’ll be alright,” the corners of his mouth tugged up, as he stood up from the stool. “Let me know if you ever feel like learning a thing or two, alright?” He frowned slightly at Arthur’s offer, but didn’t question it for too long and instead nodding, thankful. “Alright, thanks.”

With a huff of amusement Arthur grinned, “good thing people who are rational like us exist then.” With the delivery of a few notes across the bar and a tip for the waiter Arthur pushed to his feet and tucked his wallet away. “Well, nice to meet you Alain. And if you ever fancy watching ridiculously late night rugby matches just let me know.” With a wave of his hand he made his way towards the door and the walk back home in the early afternoon light.

#for keeps #para #alain #p: alain

5 notes · View notes

chocolate-parfait · 4 years

Note

(1) Hello, I saw you were accepting match ups and I jumped in your ask box :) So I am a Gemini INTJ, creative, ambitious, honest and thoughtful. I can come off as cold as I am mostly neutral in my expression, but I am very loyal and caring towards my friends and generally compassionate. My passions are writing, reading, ballet and learning new things (criminology, literature, history, sociology, psychology, sciences, philosophy), I am kind of a master of all trades. I also stand up for feminism

Here ya go, luv!

(+you didnt specify pronouns so i hope you're okay with she/her! If not please let me know and I will change them~)

I match you up with... Napoleon!

When you first meet (a proper meeting, not him trying to get you out of a mansion full of vampires), he is not fazed in the slightest by your neutral expression. If being in a such important position has taught him anything, that'd be not judging a book by its cover; you never know what people are hiding just beneath the surface. The same way, you want to witness and judge with your own two eyes the man's qualities and faults before running after him because "omg napoleon bonaparte-senpai!! >\\\<", and this is something that doesn't go unnoticed

Despite the fact that you don't throw yourself in his arms at the sight of his interest in you, one could say that your relationship started off on the right foot. You are straightforward and honest, and on multiple occasions you directly tell him that you want to see who he is for yourself instead of blindly believing rumors and legends

By now Cupid has already hit him with his arrow, and it's clear as day that his feelings will only grow from then onwards. All he can do is show you his true colors and hope that you'll like the view

Though he won't tell you so at the beginning of your friendship, he feels immense pleasure whenever you turn down Arthur's (or any man's) advances. And when, as your feelings develop into something stronger, he sees you walking to him with indescribable and genuine love in your eyes, he feels his heart bursting in his chest. Seeing how the most important person to him gifts him with unwavering loyalty, something that he had learned not to take for granted, it really makes him realize how much of an amazing person you are

Though on the overall you're pretty independent and can hold your own on most occasions, he'd like it if you relied on him more. From morning to dusk you're like a train running at full speed on neverending rails, so sometimes he has to run after you and snatch you away to force you take a break. Overtime he has learned to read every sign your body has to offer, no matter how subtle. He knows when you can still keep going and when you're a inch away from snapping, in which case he'll gently hold your hands and press a solemn yet soft kiss to your cheek, whispering words of encouragement in your ears

He particularly loves seeing the fire in your eyes whenever you talk to him about all the causes you support so firmly. He carefully listens everything you have to say, posing insightful questions as the will to share your ideals burns deep in his resolve. It's one of the reasons he realized he became so utterly whipped. You both share strong convictions that are able to fire you up fiercely in mere seconds, and to share such passion and conception with someone else makes him feel like he came back for an actual reason

Second choice: Leonardo

The moment he lays his eyes upon you, he already knows that there's much more about you than you let on, great minds (or storms in Leo's case) think alike and are bound to recognize each other. He's immediately drawn to you and being as curious as he can be, he immediately takes a liking to you and starts trailing behind you like a lost puppy, though unfortunately for you he plans on endlessly teasing you until he's satisfied with the results of his newfound research

It doesn't take much time for his interest to be rewarded with the first fruits of knowledge as you show him both your passion and skills. The vast variety of topics you cover with your knowledge make you an extremely great partner for all kinds of conversations, especially for someone as cultured as him. Your creativity matches perfectly with his spontaneous personality and oftentimes you find yourselves lost in deep and long conversations, considering and discussing all kinds of ideas and projects

You're also caring and considerate, and it's one of the aspect of your personality he finds liking a lot pretty quickly. You don't overstep boundaries nor ask him questions he'd rather not answer to, and you're genuinely concerned for whatever may bring him harm despite his inhuman resistance. While there isn't anything strong enough to physically bring him down forever, it feels nice having someone fussing over your bruises, tending to your wounds and checking your temperature; it's a completely new feeling for someone without a real family like him, and knowing he can completely trust you with anything is what ultimately wins his heart over

As the days pass by he gets to know you better, and just when he thinks you couldn't surprise him more than what you had done already, he discovers a new side of you, passionate and vigorous. You were out on a date walk in the city, going around and giving a hand to whoever needed it, when suddenly a couple started arguing in the street. It was a man harshly gripping a woman, probably his lover, by her wrist while yelling all types of misogynist insults as she tried to break free. The argument was rather one sided, and Leonardo could clearly see how hard you were staring at the scene in front of you, fists tight with rage and repugnance. As you went to tell him off, the pureblood followed you ready to back you up any moment. In the end everything was solved with just a punch in the face of the man and comforting words to the woman. As the two of you started walking away, Leo asked you about how you were feeling about the whole situation, interested and worried at the same time; that's when you finally explained about how you were an activist and fought against injustices, describing how situation was back in your time and how things developed through the years. Seeing your eyes light up with fire and finally understanding how deeply you cared about equality, he feels his heart flutter in adoration against his chest. You're truly one of a kind, and he can't help but want to support with everything he has.

Your relationship developed pretty fast as he found falling for you almost immediately, and being the flirty little tease he is, nothing changes much even after you start being a thing. He becomes more openly affectionate, that's true, but it comes so naturally to him that it's as if you've always been a couple

Most of your dates involve either philosophical conversations or happen in the library. You take naps together, or he gives you books he read that he knows you'll like. It kinda became your favorite meeting spot, and everyone in the mansion prefers keeping a certain distance from the room whenever you're in it, not wanting to be the third wheel or walk in on something embarassing

#matchups #300 followers special #answered

8 notes · View notes

poetlcs · 4 years

Text

books I’ve read in 2020 (so far) + their ratings

non-fiction

crossing the line: australia’s secret history in the timor sea by kim mcgrath: important research into australia’s theft of oil in timor leste. didn’t rate

hood feminism: notes from the women that a movement forgot by mikki kendall: essay collection dissecting modern feminism, pointing out the exclusionary practices of mainstream feminism and offering new frameworks through which feminism should operate. really recommend. didn’t rate

the uninhabitable earth: life after warming by david wallace-wells: good introduction to environmentalism and the climate disaster. a little too introductory for me but good for those new to the topic. ★★★

homo deus: a brief history of tomorrow by yuval noah harari: it is simply not Sapiens nor as good as Sapiens. Looks at potentials for our future but, thought it was a little poorly researched. Some parts were still interesting though. ★★★

SPQR: a history of ancient rome by mary beard: a little dense at times, but super interesting and detailed look at ancient rome. enjoyed it a lot. ★★★★

sister outsider by audre lorde: collection of audre lorde’s essays and speeches, about feminism, lesbianism, the queer community, being Black and a lesbian ect ect. outstanding, important collection anyone interested in intersectional feminism must read. ★★★★★

all boys aren’t blue by george m. johnson: memoir about johnson’s experiences growing up as a Black gay boy in a poor neighbourhood. Very poignant memoir, written in such accessible language which I liked. guarenteed to get you emotional, another one everyone should read. didn’t rate because it’s so highly personal that felt wrong but highly recommend.

under a biliari tree i born by alice biari smith: memoir by an Aboriginal Australian detailing her life growing up learning traditional Aboriginal ways and how the lives of Indigenous Australian’s have been impacted through the years, specifically in Western Australia. Probably more aimed at school age people but still a 101 I think many Australian’s (and non Australian’s) can benefit from. didn’t rate

classics

maurice by e.m forster: gay man coming of age story in college + themes around class and sexuality. forster’s end note saying he thought it imperative to write a happy ending because we need that in fiction, i love him. ★★★★★

emma by jane austen: read before seeing the movie. loved emma as a character but thought this was okay compared to other Austen I’ve read. ★★★½

perfume by patrick suskind: a man with an incredible sense of smell starts murdering young women to try and bottle their scent for a perfume. weirdest shit I ever read still don’t know how to feel about it. ★★★

the color purple by alice walker: follows the life of Celie, an Black woman living in rural Georgia. deals with her relationship with her sister Nettie, her lover Shug Avery, and with God. this tore my heart to shreds absolutely everyone must read it, like even just for the beautiful writing ALONE. ★★★★

a study in scarlet by arthur conan doyle: its sherlock holmes #1 no further explanation required. not my fave sherlock story, was the weird morman subplot needed? ★★½

dracula by bram stoker: yeah vampires!! this was way easier to read and also way funnier than I expected. we STAN gothic aesthetics and Miss Mina Harker here. ★★★★

fantasy

the diviners by libba bray: teens with magical powers/abilities solving mysteries in 1920′s new york. reread. ★★★★★

lair of dreams by libba bray: the diviners #2. reread. ★★★★½

before the devil breaks you by libba bray: the diviners #3. reread. best one in the series hands down. ★★★★★

the king of crows by libba bray: waited so long for this series ender and it let me down lol. ★★★

clockwork princess by cassandra clare: the infernal devices #3. dont @ me this is my comfort reread series and I was travelling. ★★★★★

we unleash the merciless storm by tehlor kay mejia: we set the dark on fire #2. latinx inspired fantasy about overthrowing a corrupt government with an f/f romance. didn’t like as much as book one but still good, BEST girlfriends ever. ★★★½

wolfsong by t.j klune: basically feral gay werewolves and witches living in a town together. feels like a teen wolf episode but way more gayer. despite that hated the writing style and I don’t like age gap romances so yay the concept no the execution. ★★

the fate of the tearling by erika johansan: the tearling #3. finally finished this series, dunno why everyone loathes the ending so much I thought it was cool. underrated fantasy because it’s very unique. ★★★★

girl, serpent, thorn by melissa bashardoust: persian inspired fantasy about a girl who is cursed by a div to kill anyone she touches. has an f/f romance. bashardoust writes the most aesthetically rich settings I love her. ★★★★

crier’s war by nina varela: reread. f/f enemies to lovers where the main character poses as a handmaiden in order to try and murder the princess whose father killed her family. PEAK gay content literally a modern classic. ★★★★★

we hunt the flame by hafsah faizal: I was so disinterested in this book I barely can describe the plot but basically it’s a prince and a hunter who are enemies but are forced to go looking for this magical artifact together anyway it was boring. ★

ghosts of the shadow market by cassandra clare + others: short story collection set in the shadowhunter world. probably the strongest of her collections but they just don’t hit the same as her full length books. didn’t rate.

a storm of swords: part two by george r.r martin: a song of ice and fire #3. I WILL finish reading these books eventually i swear !! probably the best one yet though. ★★★★

amarah by l.l mcneil: world of linaria #3. high fantasy with politics, dragons, warring races. tolkein/asoiaf vibes if they had more women with agency. didn’t rate because I haven’t decided my feelings on the end yet.

science fiction

This is How You Lose the Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone: f/f enemies to lovers between spies on rival sides of a time war. good book but writing style wasn’t for me (others love this so eh take my opinion with a grain os salt: ★★★

not your sidekick by c.b lee: main character is from a superhero family but has no powers herself, so she takes an internship working with a superhero corp. has an f/f romance with a villain character. so much fun and super cute

speculative fiction:

the deep by rivers solomon: speculative fiction wherein pregnant African women thrown overboard by slave ships gave birth to babies that became mermaids. main character holds all the memories of her people’s past but runs away after being unable to deal with the burden. about self discovery, intergenerational trauma and the burden of remembering. a little short imo but still all round excellent book ★★★★

how long ‘til black future month? by n.k jemisin: short story collection, many with an afro-futurism focus. hard to explain because there is such a wide variety of stories but this is an AMAZING collection. didn’t rate because I don’t like rating short story collections but wish more people would read it.

mystery

the family upstairs by lisa jewell: woman inherits an english house and starts to unravel the secrets of a mass cult suicide that happened there years ago. loved it because it was wild. ★★★★★

the hand on the wall by maureen johnson: truly devious #3. boarding school mystery where the main character has to solve a murder that happened in the 1920s at her school while another mystery is happening in present time. my least favourite of the series but satisfying conclusion nonetheless. ★★★½

contemporary fiction

maybe in another life by taylor jenkins reid: dual timeline book showing the two outcomes of a decision the main character makes. cool concept but ultimately boring book because I didn’t care about the main character at all. didn’t rate because I didn’t finish it.

girl, woman, other by bernadine evaristo: vignette stories of various women whose lives are vaguely interconnected. incredibly well written with such vivid characters. deserves the hype. ★★★★

tin heart by shivan plozza: australian YA, the recipient of a heart transplant wishes to connect with the family of her donor, after she discovers the identity of her donor. good story but didn’t like the writing style. ★★★

a little life by hanya yanigahara: follows the life of a group of friends living in life, especially that of jude, a closed off and damaged man with a troubling past. a little too torture-porny/Tragic Gays but I cannot deny the author has a beautiful writing style and I went through all the emotions. didn’t rate

a girl like that by tanaz bhathena: explores the events leading up to the main character dying in a car crash. set in Jeddah, saudi arabia and explores expectations on women, feminism and expressions of sexuality and relationships between women during teenage years. kinda no good characters but I loved it for it’s messy depiction of teen girls (whilst not condemning them for this). underrated. ★★★★

little fires everywhere by celeste ng: drama in white american suburbs when a new family moves in and the neighbours start investigating their past. eh, I heard a lot about this and thought it was just okay. ★★★

stay gold by tobly mcsmith: trans boy decides to go stealth at his new school and falls for a cheerleader, georgia. about navigating being trans and definitely felt like it was written to educate cis people. it was okay but ultimately not my thing and not really the story I was looking for, even though I respect it being written by a trans author and still would recommend to certain people. ★★½

everything leads to you by nina lacour: main character and her best friend have to unravel a hollywood mystery, all while the main character is trying to get over her ex-girlfriend and find work as a set designer. f/f romance and loved the focus on movie making and the power of stories. ★★★½

the falling in love montage by ciara smyth: a girl meets another girl at a party, but she’s not looking to date due to the amount of family issues she has going on. so her and the girl decide to spend the summer having fun, renacting scenes from rom-coms, but never dating. awesome family dynamics and the relationship between the two girls was sweet also set in ireland which is fun.

normal people by sally rooney: explores the relationship between connell and marianne, who meet in school, date secretly, and then are inexplicably drawn to each other for the rest of their lives. explores power dynamics, relationships, love and trust, and what we owe to eachother. great book, great mini-series, love it to bits. ★★★★★

the glass hotel by emily st john mandel: impossible to explain this book, but there’s a mystery about grafitti, a ponzi scheme and a character falling to their death on a boat under suspicious circumstances. honestly idk what happened in this book but I liked it. ★★★½

historical fiction

half of a yellow sun by chimamanda ngozi adichie: historical fiction about the biafran war loosely based on adichie’s family experiences. incredibly well written with an ending that punches you in the gut. ★★★★

hamnet by maggie o’farrell: explores the shakespeare family after the death of their child, Hamnet, from the plague, and how this leads to Shakespeare writing Hamlet. cool as fuck concept and boring as fuck book with such tropey female characters. ★★

all the light we cannot see by anthony doerr: WW2 fiction, dual perspective between a blind girl living in france and a german boy forced into nazi youth. I cannot believe this book is award winning it’s so boring and predictable and i reget the time i wasted on it. ★

poetry:

on earth we’re briefly gorgeous by ocean vuong: poetry memoir. vuong writes a letter to his illiterate mother, knowing she’ll never read it, exploring their relationship, his experiences growing up as second generation Vietnamese-American, and hers during the Vietnam War. My favorite book I’ve read so far this year, just too good to explain, genuinely just feel like everyone is better off for having read this. ★★★★★

currrently reading:

girls of storm and shadow by natasha ngan

meet me at the intersection: edited by rebecca lim & ambelin kwaymullina

stamped from the beginning: the definitive history of racist ideas in america by ibram x. kendi

get a life, chloe brown by talia hibbert

#books #reading #booklr #book #book recommendation #mine #reading update #did anyone ask for this #no #did i do it anyway yes #its my continuing agenda to get book tumblr to read books that aren't soc and aftg aaldkskska #ok bye #after making this its become apparent to me I need to balance out how much fantasy I let myself read akdksks #i lov fantasy but im TRYING to read more uhh non fiction and lit fic

6 notes · View notes

ieyasukenshinsandwich · 5 years

Text

A Turn of the Hourglass

I had a sudden thought about an Ikevamp Reset Theory AU after rereading the prologue and realizing just how much some of it sounded...rehearsed...especially the scene when Le Comte runs into the MC at the Louvre. A few written down thoughts turned into a fanfiction.

Warnings? None. Spoilers? Very minor ones from the Prologue and the Saved Stories option under Memories for the released suitors. Notes? 1. A * marked before a dialogue means that it is taken directly from the Prologue. 2. The last section of this fanfic will make a lot more sense if you are familiar with the last part of the Prologue -- it reads a bit awkwardly otherwise.

Under the cut because it is 3,775 words.

A Turn of the Hourglass

The room was, to most, eerily silent. He found that worked well for him. When he delivered a lecture, he purposely waited until the silence entered into their minds. The weakest lasted several minutes, Jean had lasted nearly an hour, but the subtle waiting quiet of the room wore down their sanity until they broke and asked -- each in their own unique ways that he found endlessly fascinating -- for him to start his lecture. Perhaps it was a brief reminder of the void of death they had each experienced that unnerved them. Whatever the case, it was always a test of their sanity. It certainly was a constant test for him. Le Comte, unlike his residents, knew what created that subtle waiting silence. He could actually hear the constant shluff of falling sand from the various hourglasses that lined his room. The noise that put the residents on edge as they subconsciously waited for the next grain to drop. A sound that Leonardo despised.

Despite being one of his oldest friends, Le Comte doubted that the Inventor knew why he kept so many hourglasses. He had never asked so he had never told. Leonardo scorned keeping such meticulous track of time -- often cursing their own immortal march -- and he broke or creatively reimagined every timepiece he had put in his messy room. Sometimes he would find them just outside his door. A clear warning that he nearly always ignored. Le Comte imagined that he would not be impressed -- perhaps, he thought with a sardonic grin tugging at his lips, even disappointed -- if he discovered the reason. The grin turned into a lopsided smile as he quickly poured himself a drink. He tipped the glass back, chasing away the bitterness he could feel swelling his soul with the bite of alcohol, and heaved a quiet sigh as he continued to watch her hourglass.

Soon after she had moved into his mansion, he had dubbed this delicate, gold-lined hourglass hers in a haze of affection. The sands, as compared to the others dotting his room, were a faint pink color. The same color as the suite she stayed in. If Sebastian had noticed he had her placed the Lady’s quarters, parallel to the suite that was his by right even if he hadn’t used it in years, he hadn’t said a word. Or raised an eyebrow. Le Comte wondered if he was that excellent of a butler, Sebastian had definitely proved himself numerous times, or just ignorant of the suite’s importance. Maybe it had been before his time. Perhaps he should have relocated to the Master suite once again -- to stake a claim and make his own intentions crystal clear even to the least observant of his residents. But he hadn’t, and he was here watching her pink sands be slowly dyed a dusty blue.

The same dusty blue as the sands in the sturdy oak hourglass currently frozen in time inside a locked cabinet. The one he had labelled the first night after Arthur had accepted his proposal to become a vampire. One that he had actually pulled out of its cabinet to examine twice this past month to confirm the color of the sands: dusty blue. It wasn’t an ugly color, he actually quite liked it, but it wasn’t the color he wanted. He tapped the bottom of the hourglass, eyes glowing gold, and watched the final grain change from pink to blue. It was done. He managed to turn to the largest hourglass, the one that marked his ability to travel through the door into time, before a very proper knock interrupted the sound of sand. Sebastian. The door opened, someone stepping into the room without waiting for his welcoming answer. Leonardo.

“Monsieur Le Comte, Sakiko wishes to stay in the mansion for a bit longer and would like to ask for your permission to do so.” Excitement primly tucked away.

“She’s tied herself to the flirt you turned, but after everything that has happened...I can’t begrudge her choice.” Affection carefully concealed under exasperation.

He let their emotions wash over his own -- swift currents of positive thoughts shoving his own negative ones into corners and hopefully out of sight. He turned with a gentle smile already in place. Sebastian’s brow furrowed as Leonardo’s raised in an unspoken question. It seemed that the current had not tucked them away as neatly as he hoped. With a sweep of his hand, the faintly glowing -- and frankly distracting -- oversized hourglass was hidden from their sight. With a tiny bow, the bitterness the alcohol had only barely controlled was swallowed. These two were observant enough to see through his lies in this emotional state, so his words would need a seed of truth.

“I already knew.” Teasing came easy to his tongue, but not to his eyes. The teasing lilt did its job as the inquisitive looks faded to bemusement and actual exasperation. Sebastian returned the little bow, smiling with more happiness than Le Comte thought was necessary, as Leonardo carelessly dragged a cirgarillo from his breast pocket. With a flick of his wrist, he grabbed his friend’s still unlit cirgarillo and placed it far enough away on the table that it could not be reached. Not without moving him aside anyway. He relished the annoyance that flickered before sweeping out of the room.

“We should congratulate them, non?” The two followed without a word -- Sebastian closing the door with a click that he thought sounded a bit too final.

~~~

It had been over a month and the large hourglass was once again nearly full. It was nearly time. Le Comte had watched Arthur and Sakiko be happy, unwilling to do anything to cast a shadow of unease over them, and played the perfect indulgent host. The only shadow he had cast was over the hourglass Sakiko had inadvertently claimed her first night in the mansion. Every night, before falling into uneasy sleep, he would watch the sands swirl and remember when they had been pink instead of blue. It only took two nights of this for him to remember that hourglasses can be reset. It took four to recall that it was more than a theory, although it took six for him to realize that he knew it wasn’t a theory because it had worked before. The month was halfway over when he remembered that he had done it before.

Pieces of the puzzle trickled in as he continued to watch over the hourglass. The residents’s hourglasses were locked away, rewound and then frozen in time, and could not be changed. Hers was not frozen and flipping hers erased the timeline. It had little impact on the other hourglasses -- the grains of pink that represented her simply faded into their respective colors one by one until she was gone. They were still vampires, they would still meet her -- they just wouldn’t remember. A clean slate. A third chance...or was it a fourth? He wished that he could remember, but the very second she accepted a place in the mansion his own sands lost her color like the others. A way to make it fair, he supposed, as fair as it could be. His power would reawaken his memory once he touched her dyed hourglass. A failsafe. A curse. His gaze returned to the oversized hourglass as the final sands fell into place. It was time.

“Your body, your heart, and your destiny...” Le Comte whirled the hourglass around its suspended chain several times before letting it come to a stop, staring with grim satisfaction as the sands poured unnaturally quickly into the opposite chamber. He watched as the color steadily changed to an impressionable, but boring white. A pause. The roar of the sands echoed in his ears, seemingly taunting him for his decision, as some unknown magic took hold of the sand. It changed back to pink, your color, with agonizing slowness. Once it finished, he etched a heart on the glass with a single finger. The sand briefly turned to spun gold, glowing like the power he could still feel sparking his veins and lighting his eyes, and held the heart shape. A traced image of glittering gold that seemed to pulse in time with his own. He hated watching it fade -- hopefully it would not fade again. He finished his plea on a reverent whisper.

“Please, ma chérie, give them to me.”

~~~

Night had fallen much later than he had been expecting. His sense of time had always been a bit disorientated, but being pulled from death’s loving embrace only to be thrust right back into the empty embrace of existence had nearly destroyed it. Or should he say neatly destroyed it? All it had taken was a single bite -- a very neat and clean one. The thought caused him to stop short of the window, but it only held his attention for a brief moment. He had a banquet to attend and a fellow author to tease if only to see the usually well-spoken man stutter. Sakiko had really peeled away all of his layers to reveal a man as easy to fluster as his dear apple. His cheeks didn’t flush nearly as pretty as a color, but it was still worth it. He was actually happy -- he was sure it reached his eyes occasionally -- that she had ignored his warning that day in the garden. With a soft grunt, he lifted the window and prepared to clamber inside. Sakiko was staring at him in bemusement again. He lifted his hand in greeting.

*”Well, well, would you look at that? I’m a little late, aren’t I? ...In we go.” A quick glance had told him that the usual suspects were all there, though he found it a bit odd that Arthur and Sakiko weren’t sitting intimately close together like usual. Lost in that thought, his sleeve caught on the rough edge of the windowsill. Lovely. Dazai purposefully pulled at the sleeve in a way that wouldn’t actually help, knowing that with each passing second Sebastian’s eyes would twitch with increasing annoyance. A rip was well worth that -- even if he was forced at needlepoint to fix it himself. Issac said something. He hadn’t heard it exactly, but he could guess.

*”And keep everyone waiting? No, no, the window was much faster.” It was a familiar argument and his response was the same every time. Maybe Issac should be creative and come at the argument from a different angle. Maybe he should try using the window. The smile on his face was unaffected by the glares he received from most of the table. It remained as he easily unhooked the tiny thread from the edge that was keeping him prisoner -- if only it had actually been that easy in life. Sakiko was still eyeing him, so he gave his first greeting to her, uncaring of the affection that colored his tone and words. She looked uncomfortable as she responded, so he attempted to put her at ease with a neutral statement about dinner. Normally she would agree with him -- she loved Sebas-kun’s cooking with a fervor that always made him chuckle -- but her eyes slid away. What had Arthur done? He was seconds from asking when the master of the house spoke.

*”You arrived just in time. We were all introducing ourselves to our guest.” The tone was cool and tempered, but Dazai knew a warning when he heard one. He looked up and down the table for someone new, head still firmly facing Sakiko so she would know that he would be talking with her next. He would find out what had happened. A sense of unease crawled up his spine as his search proved futile. There was no one new here. He faced Le Comte.

*”You’d like me to introduce myself?” He couldn’t stop his surprise from coloring his tone. He hoped his question would be answered. Le Comte was just as good at dodging inquiries as he was. The unease doubled as Issac coughed in the general direction of Sakiko. She stared at him as if he were a stranger. A stranger. Ah. He’s done this before. He felt apathy settle on his shoulders like a mantle, the familiar weight threatening to drag him down, but a part of his brain knew that this girl would rip it off like she had done before: it was just a matter of time. Issac coughed again, louder this time, and he knew that if he waited any longer Le Comte would become suspicious. That wouldn’t do. He wondered what her name was this time: not Sakiko, not Hana, not Fusao, not Chiyo...it would take him a while to remember when someone finally bothered to tell him, but he would remember it. Dazai was good with names.

~~~

Night had fallen much more quickly than he had expected. This had soured his mood, but he knew that lateness would not be permitted or excused. The carriage trip to the mansion had always seemed so long, but the script sitting next to him on the empty seats raised his spirits to be almost giddy. When was the last time he had been in such elation of spirit? A bump in the road disoriented his thoughts, but it was his glance to his fallen script that dispelled his mood. With a reluctant eye, he scanned the first few pages as the carriage pulled just past the gate. The words were turning color from feathered black ink to gold: a gold that he had seen numerous times before. His expression was hard as the coachman finally got around to opening his door. He knew entering the mansion was useless -- a fool’s errand -- but he would dutifully play his part. Setting the papers aside, he watched as the words on the top page slithered off to form tiny piles of golden dust. All that time -- erased. He went halfway to the door of the mansion, knowing that he was hidden from view, and counted to a reasonable passage of time before turning around.

*”I’ve decided not to stay.” Shakespeare didn’t need to bother hiding the tiny amount of bitterness in his voice -- it was as believable as the first time he had said it so many times ago. The coachman seemed surprised, but as if it were rehearsed, only perfunctorily questioned him. Perhaps it was rehearsed. He gave him an answer as he always did.

*”Capricious Fate has invited a guest of fairer mien than mine to take my chair.” Capricious as the dust that blew away when the carriage door was opened. He watched it go, settling himself on the seats, as he forced his voice to convey resentment instead of the desperation that wanted to be heard: *“Hers is center stage tonight, though I shan’t stay to see how she performs.” He couldn’t stay. One glance at her would reveal himself. He had yet another part to practice upon this stage. He knew his lines.

*”O, what upturned expectations have come at the arrival of this...new player?” Still not perfect -- Shakespeare had hesitated. That would surely reveal him. A thoughtful hum interrupted his internal thoughts. His eyes widened in surprise -- he had thought he was speaking to himself, as he had every other cursed rehearsal, but the coachman was still standing with his hand on the carriage door. The man scratched at his chin, eyeing Shakespeare’s formally casual wear and discarded script, before turning around to stare at the opulent mansion. The coachman’s expression was sympathetic and kind as he turned back around.

“There will be another chance, monsieur,” He laughed, giving the script and the stunned playwright a wink, before finishing in an overblown theatrical voice: “‘all that glitters is not gold.’” He gave the mansion one more disgusted look before gently closing the carriage door. A few short minutes later the carriage lurched forward. Shakespeare shook off his shock -- and bemusement, the man had quoted his own words to him. Was he to play his part once again? Was he to find which part she was to play? She had already played a forlorn and frozen violet’s precious maiden, an immortal inventor’s mortal beloved, and most recently the adored red, red rose of one who slept among many petals. She had even kissed the sleeping emperor and turned him into a man.

A divot in the road caused the coach to rattle unsteadily, sending the formerly finished script into further disarray. A tiny hint of an unbalanced smile caressed his lips as he watched his own name fade from black to gold to dust. A woman of many names, many parts -- no wonder she haunted him from that first glance so many times ago. No matter, he can play his parts once again.

~~~

The room was, to most, eerily silent. He found that worked well for him. However, the quiet was going to be broken by his own requests to Sebastian and the soft crackling of the fire hidden within its grate. Subtle mind games were not necessary as he knew it would only be a few seconds before you spoke. He also didn’t want attention drawn to the numerous hourglasses dotting his walls anyway just in case you should ask about them this time. Not that you would. If he remembered correctly, you would reject his offer of tea and immediately ask him your impossible question -- how would you get back -- even when the real question burning your tongue and crying from your eyes was a question of “when” you would get back. It was much too early to tell the truth. He would be a gentleman and soften his omission by answering the question you voiced out loud. Dinner ended and Le Comte brought you to his suite. It all happened exactly as he remembered. He sipped his tea as you seemingly processed all of the information, doubt and suspicion etched on your face, preparing for your second impossible question.

*”And who are you, Comte, that you have collected some of history’s greatest figures to live here in your mansion?” The tone was just as accusatory as he remembered, but the guilt that squirmed in his stomach at the tone was more recent. One or two turns of the hourglass ago perhaps. He shifted his eyes away to glance to the side, unable to make eye contact even though he knew just how dubious it made him look, and gave his usual deflection. You seemed unimpressed and tried to wiggle your way out of staying in the mansion. That wouldn’t be allowed to happen. A few strong armed suggestions painted in the softest manner he could achieve, an assurance that you weren’t imposing -- guilt climbed upwards to poke at his heart -- and a civil conversation about the residents you had yet to meet culminated in his old friend’s sudden appearance.

“Are you the one, cara mia, that was taking so long?” Leonardo’s words were different from last time, although the general idea was the same. He had the feeling that someone else in the mansion retained some memories, but he also knew the feeling to be a manifestation of his own paranoia. He knew you were erased from memory -- he had twirled your hourglass himself just that afternoon. Nonetheless, Le Comte watched his friend closely. He shoved down the feeling of jealousy that tried to rear its ugly head when he saw you in his lap, flustered beyond words, and swallowed his snarl when Leonardo tried to undermine his ability to take care of and please her with his warning. She had been happy every other time in his mansion, in his Lady’s suite, and he was always one of the first to discover her missing. He grimaced at these thoughts. Guilt was now a stab so painful that it took all of his self control to not drop down and beg your forgiveness for his actions. Fortunately, or unfortunately as it may more accurately be stated, Sebastian was already leading you away to your room. He didn’t dare follow.

That night, he fell into an uneasy sleep. He was almost glad for his upcoming loss of memory just so he could occasionally rest at night again -- not that he really needed it. Sleep was an indulgence most of the time. Your hourglass was glowing faintly on the shelf. The pink light coming from the pink sands, as of yet undyed by any hand, seemed to call to him. That was all the convincing he needed to gently bring the hourglass down from the shelf, cradling it in his palm as he climbed onto his bed. He had just settled himself when the hourglass suddenly began to burn. In shock, he dropped it and barely managed to keep it from tumbling to the ground. Le Comte took the still burning hourglass and placed it near him on the pillow. You must be unsettled. He started to breathe in slow, methodical breaths in an effort to calm even if you couldn’t feel it. He gently patted the top of the delicate, gold-lined hourglass with affection.

The pinks sands flashed blood red, causing his own blood to run chill with apprehension and fangs to peep out in anticipation. He tapped down the longing filling his soul -- she was still distressed and he owed her his attempts at comfort -- and etched a soothing, swirling pattern on the glass. He welcomed the burning sensation as a punishment for his turn of the hourglass. A sin that he would gladly take upon himself, again and again, as long as it meant he could have another if she chose another. Gold dust followed his fingers as he stirred the sands from the outside. A frantic pulse seemed to fight the additional color, but the pink eventually intermingled with gold. Once the two were fully mixed, the sands slowed to lethargic pace. It was a beautiful sight. One that he wanted.

*“I want it all. Your body, your heart...and your destiny.” The sands pulsed once more, removing his golden dust from the pink in one fell swoop. He placed the hourglass on his bedside table and turned to face the wall. He also owed you some privacy. He would be seeing you tomorrow anyways. He would have another chance. With a small smile, Le Comte drifted off to sleep with dreams of a delicate, gold-lined hourglass filled with pink and gold sand and your arms affectionately wrapped around him in a hug. He would happy with just that, although he yearned for more and maybe this time...you will give them to him.

~~~

Tagging: @edgarbright I hope you don’t mind, but it was a theory and Le Comte-centric. @impracticaldemon I wrote something~! :D

118 notes · View notes

burntcopper · 5 years

Link

(text below as it’s a premium article, more pictures and such at the link)

Mark Monahan, dance critic

7 MAY 2019 • 7:00AM

It is one of those volatile spring days where the weather can’t make up its mind, and I am in the studios at Three Mills Island, deep in the East End of London, watching rehearsals for Matthew Bourne’s brand-new production of Romeo and Juliet. To judge by the section of Prokofiev’s ever-astonishing score firing from the speakers, we are in the midst of the final, calamitous scene of Act II.

Tybalt staggers on, paralytically drunk. So far, so familiar to anyone who’s seen certain Tybalts in the Royal Ballet’s production – except that he is also clutching a revolver, which he brandishes at the terrified crowd of young onlookers. He then takes Mercutio and Balthasar hostage, forcing them, at gunpoint, to snog each other. As Bourne slyly tells me a little later, “I should say, it doesn’t follow the plot exactly – it is a Romeo and Juliet-type story We have got a couple of surprises up our sleeve…”

How could Bourne possibly not? After all, he is the dance-theatre supremo who, with his company Adventures in Motion Pictures (recast as New Adventures in 2002), has repeatedly put bold new spins on old works, often opening them up to entirely new audiences.

He is most famous for having redefined ballet at a stroke in 1995 by making all the waterfowl in his Swan Lake brazenly bare-chested men. But he also spiced up Carmen with a dash of The Postman Always Rings Twice and set the result in a steamy garage (The Car Man, 2000); transformed an obscure Sixties film, The Servant, into perhaps the other sexiest dance show so far this millennium (Play Without Words, 2002); and risked taking two adored, emphatically cinematic films – Edward Scissorhands and The Red Shoes – and putting them on stage (in 2005 and 2016). It was also Bourne who set Cinderella in Blitz-ravaged London (1997), thoroughly re-cracked The Nutcracker (1992) and sharpened up The Sleeping Beauty with vampires (2012). The fact that this master choreographer-producer and storyteller – already riding high with his superb current revival of Swan Lake – is now tackling the most stirring balletic tale of all makes this the single most eagerly awaited dance show of 2019.

“I think the key to the success of this company,” he tells me, “is that it brings in people who feel this is not something they’d normally understand, something they’re a bit scared of.”

So, besides the snippet of Act II that I catch, what sort of Romeo and Juliet can we expect when it launches in Leicester next week? The various New Adventures members I chat to prior to Bourne himself maintain an omertà-like silence about it, saying only that it’s set in an unspecified time in the near future, and reminding me that the show’s tag-line is “Imagine a time when love is forbidden …”.

Thankfully, the New Adventures grand vizier himself – remarkably affable and unstuffy in person – is a little more forthcoming. Designed (as usual with this company) by the terrific Lez Brotherston, the show, Bourne says, will be roughly two hours long, in three acts, but with just one interval, with the score rearranged (by Terry Davies) for a 15-strong live band. He also says that his scenario was “very vaguely” inspired by Anna Hope’s 2016 novel The Ballroom. Beyond that, however, Bourne is careful to tantalise rather than reveal, and this spirit of mystery extends to the show itself.

“We haven’t absolutely hit on a definite ‘this is it’ thing,” he says, “We think all these young people are in this institute. I want the audience to ask, ‘Why are they there? Is this to do with mental health? Is this a borstal? Is this a prison, a school? What is it? What’s going on? They’re obviously receiving some sort of medication. What it comes down to is that any excess of feeling is frowned upon and has to be, um…”

Quelled?

“Yes, quelled – good word! So, emotions are kept to a minimum, and they’re all young people who’ve been dumped there, because they’re trouble.”

Tybalt, Bourne explains, is now a corrupt guard. And, although there appears to be no Capulet family in this version, “we still get one set of parents, the Montagues, who bring Romeo there. We see him arrive, and they’re a bit like Kevin Spacey and Robin Wright in House of Cards, a political couple probably, and Romeo’s a bit of an embarrassment. He’s a bit like [the US President’s youngest child] Barron Trump, but a little bit older. He seems to have been locked away somewhere, bless him, poor boy.”

Bourne also hints that he, true to form, will not be holding back on the sensual side of things.

“I felt I could capture something that’s not in the ballet if we set it in a different time, something that was a bit more raw, a bit more like young people really are. I mean, when they get together, they go for it. They’re not thrilled by a kiss on the cheek – if they’re kissing, they’re kissing for hours.”

The regularity with which the word “young” comes up as we talk nods to another remarkable aspect of this new production. It marks the largest confluence to date of the two main strands of Bourne’s company: its fully professional performing side, and the charitable arm that aims to inspire young people to try their hand at dance. In practice, this means that a huge and heartening number of young people are involved in every aspect of the production which features two separate casts, each with their own set of star-crossed lovers.

It’s remarkable enough that two of the Juliets – Bryony Wood and Bryony Harrison – are just 19 and 21 respectively, and that one of the Romeos (Harrison Dowzell) is also 19. But many of the performers will be younger still.

A year or so ago, the company did a nationwide call-out for what they call the “local casts”. It whittled the 1,000-odd trainee dancers who applied down to 97, all aged 16-19, who will now be performing with the company. Throughout the 13-venue tour, New Adventures will be divided in half, with each half leapfrogging the other across the country. So, as one (dubbed the Capulets) starts performing in one town, the other (the Montagues) will begin a week’s pre-show rehearsal in the next. And waiting to join the company in every city, with the adrenalin doubtless pumping ferociously, will be six of those already-prepped youngsters. (The exception is the Leicester sextet, already involved in the London rehearsals.)

This, I suggest to the young-cast rehearsal director Paul Smethurst, looks like a project that could benefit British dance full-stop. “We have definitely found the next generation of star dancers,” he says. “And, we’ve found so many of them.”

What’s more, this youth drive extends to every aspect of the production. For example, young associate choreographer Arielle Smith is just 22. When she insists to me that Bourne often tells her, “Do what you want to do!”, and Smethurst, that “Arielle has a real voice and a real vision that she’s bringing to the piece”, I do privately wonder just how much trust the 59-year-old, Tony- and Olivier-garlanded Sir Matthew Bourne, OBE can really be putting in one so young. Then, minutes later – with Bourne coaching the principals across the corridor – there she is, working with dozens of corps members, and “holding” the room with complete command.

Now, these are, of course, gender-fluid times, especially in the eyes of the young. Besides which, Hackney-born Bourne (who these days lives in Islington with his partner, fellow choreographer Arthur Pita) has often toyed around with sexuality in his productions. Was he, I wonder, tempted to make his Romeo and Juliet a gay romance?

“Well,” he says, “I suppose years ago I may have gone with that. But, following on from Lord of the Flies [revived in 2014 with a largely teenage cast], which was all men, I didn’t feel this was the right time to go all male. So I thought, no, this is a chance to work with young people of both sexes.”

That said, Tybalt’s viciously enforced embrace does suggest that Bourne is up to plenty of gender-related mischief here.

“Oh, definitely, yes,” he confirms. “We wanted to have all life is here a little bit, especially with all the young people involved. I give them a bit of freedom with whatever sexuality they choose to be – how their character identified was important. For example, Mercutio’s got a boyfriend in this – that’s Balthasar. And there are a couple of girl characters who identify as gay, with one, Frenchy, who’s in love with Juliet.”

If anyone can get away with all this sort of thing, it is Bourne. His theatrical instincts have seldom let him down over the years (2008’s Dorian Gray the exception that proves the rule), and the brief section I see rehearsed – despite the absence of proper set, lighting, costumes and live music – is genuinely thrilling. What, I ask him, is the secret of his success? How has someone who didn’t even start dance training until he was 22 (at the Laban, in south-east London) made such a colossal mark on the dance world?

He credits his famous obsession with character – with giving every single person on stage a backstory and a purpose – with having collaborated on various non-New Adventures shows with “great directors” such as Trevor Nunn, John Caird, Sam Mendes and Richard Eyre. He also adds, “I think the key to the success is that I’m also quite reverential. I love the ballets, I love the scores, and I don’t want to mess with them too much. I want to honour the composers in a way that I feel is OK. And I want to tell a story to people.”

And want to get the audience involved?

“Yes,” he confirms. “And it just comes completely naturally to me. It’s not something I work at. I’ve never thought, ‘How do you get an audience on-side?’ It’s just completely the way I think about things, and I don’t see the point of it otherwise.”

Matthew Bourne’s Romeo + Juliet opens on May 13 at the Curve, Leicester, and tours the UK until October. Details and tickets: new-adventures.net

#romeo and juliet #matthew bourne

9 notes · View notes

crasherfly · 4 years

Text

I thought I’d have something important to talk about today...

About 30 minutes into my therapy appointment I had run out of things to talk about. I had done my best to summon...something...anything...to the surface.

But I had nothing. I got nothing for this space either.

I’m doin’ fine. Like, I’m not any worse than normal or anything. I just...am having kinda a blank week/month. It happens.

I’m trying to get back into running now that the gym is closed. It’s hell. I miss my weights. I know I’m going to be okay. It’s just going to take some time to really get my head around this. There are bigger problems in the world than my personal fitness and self-image. I have better safeguards in place for myself, emotionally, so I know I’ll come out of this better than I did during the the start of the pandemic. I’m taking this as an opportunity to improve and come out stronger in a different way.

I’m still sober. Haven’t decided if I’ll have a beer or two for Thanksgiving. I didn’t give this much thought when I started. But now I’m here. I guess I’ll have more thoughts when and if I end this streak. I wouldn’t say that it’s been a lifechanging experience, but it’s been good to break routines and try something new.

Haven’t done much else beyond the usual gaming and other nonsense. More on that below. :)

Aight let’s talk about games.

I picked up a new TV this week at Best Buy! I’m uh, like, a third of the way ready for the new generation! If it’s a bad tv, please don’t @ me. We got the one that made the most sense for us.

Now just gotta find a Series X and a Yamaha receiver that can do 4k. Simple. Right? RIGHT?

Had sorta a light week for games. I worked a lot on DND stuff this week- more on that below, or, if you’re especially curious, you can find my DND blog HERE.

Red Dead Redemption 2 (PS4)

I’m not sure what prompted me to get back to the world of Red Dead Redemption 2. I had no prior inkling that there would be anything newsworthy happening in RDR2- but of course, we now know that soon Red Dead Online will be a stand-alone game of its own, the single player campaign relegated to the backseat as an add-on feature.

I first spent time with the single player world. Needless to say, spoilers to follow here, so if you’re still behind on this game’s story- well, read no further.

Still with me? Great. Okay, so it’s no shock that Arthur dies at the end of RDR2. It had to happen. It’s a damn shame because i found him infinitely more relatable than John Marston of the original game, but to each their own.

Arthur dies and you go through a kind of reset where you take over the story, such as what’s left of it, as John Martson. It’s a bit of a momentum killer, from a power curve point of view, but from a narrative view- it’s necessary. The ending to the main “campaign” is pretty good. You get revenge and the story wraps up nicely in anticipation for the the start of the game that...released a generation ago.

I...okay, I’m not getting into this here. This isn’t about my thoughts on the campaign, which I swear are mostly positive! (I actually think RDR2′s story is far and away superior to the first game’s, and it’s not a close contest, prequel issues aside) This is about why I came back to RDR2.

I guess I needed a big, immersive game world to get lost in for a while. And RDR2 certainly offers that. It doesn’t quite have the variety of its big brother, Grand Theft Auto 5. And it isn’t nearly as spontaneous as say, Yakuza 0. But it is still very, very big and chock full of narrative secrets. So much so that I found myself surprised by how much game was still there after the final credits rolled.

I took my hand at bounty hunting, bought a few new pieces of equipment I hadn’t seen before, and trolled around towns as a downtrodden, violence prone John Marston. I found some new secrets I hadn’t seen before, including a couple of cinematic moments with characters from the previous story. It was fun! I killed probably...5-7 hours just trolling around the virtual West.

I will say it got a little tiring hearing everyone I met tell me how great a guy the previously killed protagonist was. Like. I know he was great! I played as him! I wish I still was! Ah well.

This experience has me thinking about how...SERIOUSLY...we analyzed RDR2 when it first came out. Like, the discourse surrounding this game’s narrative experience was freaking BREATHLESS. But I think something that got lost in all that talk about the story- and more importantly- the culture of the studio behind it- is just how incredible the world they built really is.

The world the devs for RDR2 built is simply...massive. Massive to the point that it might actually be unknowable. The only scale I can think to compare it is that of the Bethesda RPGs, and even then, that feels like a rough comparison.

Of course, size isn’t everything. They have to populate the world too, and again, they manage to do so with striking detail. Every city, town and settlement feels real. I mean, I still remember the first time I rode into Valentine and was struck in the face by the sheer choreography of it all. It actually made me want to make my character WALK instead of run, ‘cuz I didn’t want to break the immersion of the moment. That’s the arresting power of this game world.

Rockstar announced that the RDO experience will live on for at least the foreseeable future. There’s going to be plenty more written about the culture of Rockstar and the indulgent microtransactions that their games are trending toward. I’ll leave that to the journalists.

But as a player? I’m glad the game world will continue to find life. It’s too massive, too finely crafted to merely be discarded by something as arbitrary as the passage of gaming “generations”, if that’s even really a thing anymore.

I have more thoughts specifically on playing Red Dead Online, but I’ll have to save them as this is already running long as it is. I also don’t think my thoughts are terrible revealing. You know what RDO is gonna be when you log in, and for the most part, that’s what you get. I think it has fewer problems than GTAO, but it is still a tightly controlled experience- likely by design.

Muse Dash (PC)

Muse Dash is a rhythm game where you tap a combination of 2-3 keys on your keyboard to the beat of a catch J-Pop song. Your character, or muse, on screen, dispatches foes who serve as visual cues for your keystrokes. You must string together as many perfect sequences as possible. There’s a combo meter and HP system in there too, if you’re into that kind of thing.

I first encountered Muse Dash on V-tuber Gawr Gura’s livestream. Unfortunately, the video appears to be missing from her archive now. I was struck by how much its short, energetic tracks reminded me of a different rhythm gaming experience- Dance Dance Revolution.

Fun fact- I used to be a DDR FIEND back in my high school days. Had my own mat and everything. I even used a barstool for extra support so I could hit those really intense combos.

*sigh* To be young and able to play DDR without risking a heart attack...

Anyway, suffice to say Muse Dash caught my eye. An endless supply of J-pop tracks, cute anime visuals, and some low-key rhythm gameplay? Tag me in!

It’s made for a good, chill change of pace. The price of entry is low...like, five bucks on steam? And you can purchase more songs if you’re into that. I recommend it!

Dungeons and Dragons: Ghosts of Saltmarsh

As I said above, most of my freetime last week went into prepping for my local DND group’s campaign set in the world of Saltmarsh.

If you really want to hear a play-by-play, I’ve linked my related blog above.

Overall? I really enjoy the world of Saltmarsh. It’s spooky and moody. There’s pirates, but there’s also no shortage of sea monsters, ghosts, cultists and even vampires to keep you busy. It has strong Dark Shadows feels, where many of its included modules feel reliant dramatic tension and investigation ahead of a dramatic showdown with a big, bad monster of the week.

I still have a lot more prep to do, but at least for the moment, I can take a breath and ease up. The first session went well and the players seem curious. I hope that keeps up as we really start to dig in to the world itself. I’ve never run a full city before, and finding ways to insert all the separate modules as plothooks has been a challenge unto itself. I’ll be sure to let you all know how it goes!

Anime

I haven’t watched much lately, and that admittedly sucks. I tend to go in phases, and lately, my time just hasn’t been going to anime the way it has in other seasons.

I’m still very into Jujutsu Kaisen and am tracking with the season ending to Fire Force. I’m avoiding season 2 of Re:Zero like the plague, partially because I need to wait until the full season is done so I don’t have to torture myself by waiting week to week, and partially because I just know season 2 is going to absolutely destroy me in ways I’m not sure I can fundamentally handle right now.

I keep meaning to go through my queues and create a proper watchlist across VRV, Crunchyroll and Funimation. Maybe I’ll do that later tonight.

That’s all for this week! Hope everyone has a good and safe Thanksgiving.

Haven’t played anything on multiplayer for a while now. As always, if you have a specific game you’d like to play online, my DM’s are open. Please feel free to send me an invite <3

1 note · View note

redorblue · 7 years

Text

Book 22/2017 - Ride the Storm by Karen Chance

I’m like a month late to the party, but anyway, here goes. I read it twice because I didn’t have time to write about it after the first time (that’s a shame because God have I waited for this book) and I’m glad that I did because I missed so much on the first time through! Like how Artemis is still kinda around and might be back (and Roger, too, I guess, since his soul is still there and that’s enough for a clairvoyant/necromancer like Cassie), and how it was Arthur who really killed Apollo and Ares? I should have known, I always get distracted by the action scenes with these books (although thinking about it, not noticing Arthur’s deicide was probably due to another kind of action^^), so I normally need a reread to catch the finer details. RtS doesn’t feel enough like a standalone book to talk about it in my usual fashion, so I’ll comment on some things I found noticeable instead.

1. Chapter 3, Rosier giving Cassie a pep talk I think the point Rosier is making, basically fake it ‘til you make it, is something Cassie really needed to hear, and something she should remember more often. It’s in every book of the series so far, but in this one it really struck me how negatively Cassie thinks of herself, always telling herself and others how much of a screwup she is, how she never gets anything done and is never able to save anyone. I get where it’s coming from, unfinished business just keeps on piling up in front of her and every time she jumps back to save Pritkin, she’s quite sure it’s her last try - talk about pressure. What she doesn’t notice, and what’s so great about Rosier’s little speech, is that everyone is making do with what they’ve got. We don’t know much about how the bad guys operate, but even the most respected and powerful leaders of the (supposedly) good side like the Consul and Jonas improvise more often than not. They lose people, they are taken by surprise, and they’ve made their fair share of mistakes. Compared to them, Cassie’s track record looks pretty good, and even more so considering her lack of experience, knowledge about the supernatural world, and also authority (although that is finally getting better). So I think it would be good for Cassie if someone else continued in the same vein as Rosier, because in all likelihood she won’t see how well she’s doing herself.

2. Chapter 7, Rhea being heroic This is one of those instances where Rhea acts more like a classical hero, but what I think is really important about her character is that these moments when Rhea turns into a fighter are not (only) what make her admirable for her bravery in Cassie’s eyes, and a great female character from a reader’s perspective. She does have scenes that show her martial side, and those are great, but she’s more of a caretaker than a warrior and thereby fulfills a traditionally female role. She represents a type of womanhood that doesn’t require its role models to know 100 different ways of killing a person but none of making an omelette, be loud and outspoken all the time, only have male friends etc. = features that are generally associated with maleness and inherently superior and more admirable than “girly” ones like knowing how to prepare healthy meals or comfort crying children. This type of womanhood doesn’t force women to become practically male in order to deserve respect, thereby abandoning all her other instincts that make her appear weak because they’re associated with femaleness. It doesn’t assign a gender to certain characteristics, and it doesn’t rank them. Rhea (and also Tami) is a good example for that because while displaying some martial qualities, she is mainly celebrated because of her personal strength and her ability to hold the Pythian Court together. In a universe that has many male characters, and even more from both genders who are respected mainly because they are good fighters, it’s nice to see a diffferent type of a strong female character.

3. Chapter 13, Cassie calling her vamp bodyguards family I knew Cassie cared about her bodyguards, but I think this is the first time she openly calls them family (and does it again later, then including her court and Tami and the Misfits). I don’t think this principle of hers that she can’t care about anyone never truly worked out for her, but in the first few books she kept insisting that it did at some point, and wondering why it didn’t anymore. It’s great to see that she finally abandoned this mantra, and for so many people at that, and it shows how good a leader she is: she feels responsible (even too much sometimes), she gives and inspires unconditional loyalty, and she doesn’t care about people’s backgrounds or species as long as they stay with her. She even offers a war mage a place, although she really didn’t have good experiences with them, because she thinks it’s worth a shot for the protection of her family and because she judges people by their actions instead of their previous allegiances, and only after they joined her group. So it warms my heart to see her calling her bodyguards family, and I hope she gets to spend more time with them and her court now that she doesn’t have to spend all her time in medieval Wales anymore.

4. Chapter 14, Cassie and Caleb arguing This is where she talks about a gulf between her and everybody around her, so the exact opposite of the family thing... yay. I can see Cassie’s point here - she really doesn’t have much help to deal with all the crap that’s flung at her, so I get that she feels like she has to do everything on her own because no one’s going to want to help her anyway, at least not without terms and conditions. But it has me worried for her that she barely seems to notice how she is running herself ragged, and that her death would be about the worst thing that could happen regarding the war. She doesn’t see how important she is, and naturally she doesn’t act accordingly. Of course she couldn’t have just quit the mission to save Pritkin, and finding out about the gods’ weapons was important, but her dying because she is too exhausted doesn’t help anyone either. The bad thing is, I don’t see a solution to this problem, so I’ll just fantasize for a moment and imagine that the next Cassie book starts with her spending two weeks in a remote mountain spa without reception, supernatural or otherwise, so that she can recharge again. She’s definitely earned it, so... pretty please?

5. Chapter 22, Cassie and Pritkin trying to define what they are to each other I miss their banter so much, especially since this book in my opinion was the darkest one so far and mainly consisted of running, fighting and suffering. And I like it that deep down they both think their relationship is of the “It’s complicated” kind (even though baby!Pritkin doesn’t know the half of how complicated it is), but that it’s Cassie who says it first. This book shows Cassie coming to terms with her feelings for Pritkin, and light as this conversation may be, it’s definitely progress from her being deliberately obtuse when it comes to her and Pritkin.

6. Chapter 31, Cassie and Mircea “talking”, part 1 Because that’s the thing: They don’t talk. And it’s not just that he never tells her anything, it’s the same the other way around. It doesn’t show as much because normally, when Mircea asks Cassie a question, there’s a few pages of interior monologue on why she can’t answer his question so that you forget that there was a question in the first place. At least I do. So they both have no idea what the other has been up to for the last few books (no idea how much that was in real time, I’m confused) and the only time they get in touch with each other is when one of them wants something, ideally right now and no questions asked, thank you very much. I certainly don’t think Mircea is without sin, his behaviour especially concerning Cassie is not great (which is why I really want them to break up because this relationship seems to bring out the worst in him) - but I don’t think he’s the only one to blame that it didn’t work out. Communication goes both ways, and with each other, they both suck at it. I had high hopes for this book, I thought they were finally going to break up for good and say out loud that it just didn’t work out, but well... next one, hopefully.

7. Chapter 32, Cassie and Jules talking I liked this chapter because 1. I like Jules, especially this new confident version of him, and 2. because this conversation between Jules and Cassie offers a rare perspective (in the Cassie books) on Mircea by someone who isn’t Cassie, and therefore not tangled up in their mess of a relationship.Not that Jules is entirely objective either, but since he’s human now and not bound to Mircea and the family any more, I think he’s a trustworthy source on how people who are not Cassie view Mircea. According to him, others think of Mircea as quite trustworthy (for a vampire) and also very capable when it comes to strategies for the war. And Jules himself says that Mircea would be sorry and apologize to the baby vamp he accidentally shut up permanently if he realized what had happened. These snippets show other sides of him - reliability, a sense of honour, experience, a conscience, a disregard for hierarchy etc. - that for me as a self-declared Mircea fan are very refreshing to read.

8. Chapter 49, Cassie and Pritkin talking about “the rival” This is exactly what I want, right here. They are talking. No obvious change of topic, no one disappearing, but a real conversation about real feelings with a real result, uncomfortable as it might be. Thinking about it, (with Cassie) Pritkin is actually much less cagey about personal stuff than Cassie is, although for him she’s finally trying hard to explain herself and be honest. The younger version of him is pretty straightforward anyway, which makes sense because that seems to be one of his basic characteristics and at that stage he didn’t have that much to hide yet. But once the modern him starts trusting Cassie, he’s very honest with her, too - she can ask him pretty much anything and he’ll answer, no matter how painful it might be for him to talk about his past. He even got very close to telling her he loved her, which is huge considering the whole Ruth story. Cassie, in comparison, still has strong flight instincts until pretty much the end of the book - not because of shame, I think, but rather because of habit and a lack of self-worth? I’ll have to think about this. But anyway, that’s why I liked this mini-scene, and that’s why I was so so happy to read that Cassie was the first one to say the three words in the end. First, because it’s a huge step forward for her, and second because I think Pritkin needed that to deal with his own lack of self-worth. And to relax enough to have sex that was hot enough to kill gods. Destroying the god of war with love... How very poetic.

#books #2017 #Cassie Palmer Series #ride the storm #Karen Chance #book review

29 notes · View notes

jameshateseverything-blog · 7 years

Text

Your Childhood (Actually) Sucks

I’m always worried when I say this; but Final Fantasy 7 is the most overrated game of all time. That, however, isn’t the point. How good it is is less important than how good people remember it being. Because the way people remember things is more important than the way things actually are.

I spend a great deal of time thinking about being thirteen. Probably more than I should, to the point it borders on an addiction. My best friend and his newfound girlfriend decided Mariah Carey’s “We Belong Together” would be “their song.” I had placed second at the district chess tournament being held at my school. And I had been playing Final Fantasy 10 for the first time. It was not the first game in the series I had played, that goes to 7. What it was, however, was the first game in the series I have ever experienced.

When I initially set out to write this essay I wanted to merely make an argument as to why Final Fantasy 7 isn’t good (or at least not as good as everyone seems to tell me it is). I had planned out several points as to why other entries in the series trumped it. Namely in the storytelling and gameplay departments. I decided to give 7 another playthrough, however. After spending some time with the game, which I concede holds up better than most Playstation 1 titles, I have come to realize something; maybe Final Fantasy 7 is not just the most overrated game of all time. Maybe, just maybe, the entire series is one of the most overrated gaming franchises ever. For those of you (which I assume is most) that have never played 7, 10, or any Final Fantasy, I am going to do my best to cover the story of those two specific games. I chose 7 and 10 because (a) the original argument was based on 7 and (b) though I wouldn’t say 10 is the best, I would say it is my personal favorite.

Our story opens up with edgy ex-corporate mercenary Cloud Strife working alongside terrorist movement AVALANCHE to take down a Mako reactor. Mako being the life force of the planet and what is used to run all machinery. It is essentially crude oil that has the latent ability to grant certain people magical powers, like shooting fireballs or summoning ancient gods. But Shinra faces the problem that Mako energy is beginning to run low and their only hope is to find an ancient promised land. A promised land that is rumored to have Mako flowing endlessly beneath it. The dilemma, only an extinct race of people, the Cetra, know how to find this fossil fuel Mecca.

As the game progresses you assemble a team of unlikely heroes including emo boy Cloud. A revenge-fuelled Barrett who has a gun for a hand and a deep-seated hatred for Shinra’s use of technology. The last remaining Cetra, Aeirith. There’s also a pseudo-vampire, a talking lion wolf, and a marshmallow plush controlled by a cat. Shinra has their eyes set on Aerith, they manage to capture her, and so begins the quest for renewable energy. Cloud and crew go to rescue her and this is when the true villain is introduced. Pretty boy and fan favorite Sephiroth is a one-winged semi-clone of a deity that fell from the sky as a meteor thousands of years prior. Sephiroth is one blatant metaphor for a Christian guilt complex. Sephiroth (who is also the god Jenova) wants to summon another meteor to destroy the planet so he can absorb all the Mako and become one with it. When Cloud and friends try to stop him, he manages to mind control Cloud. Then Convinces Cloud that he’s a clone of Sephiroth with the memories of some guy named Zack planted in him. Cloud has a mental breakdown, becomes catatonic, falls into the planet’s lifestream with his childhood friend, and sorts out his existential crisis like some bad acid trip. After he spends 10 minutes getting his shit together, the gang flies into the crater where Jenova initially crash landed Lord Xenu style. They do battle with Sephiroth, who is also Jenova, who is also the ancient entity known as Meteor. They kill him with the help of a deceased Aerith, and the world returns to its beautiful dystopian self. Minus the evil conglomerate monopoly of Mako Shinra once had. Convoluted enough for you? I didn’t even touch on the movie, four spin-off games (two on cell phone), or the racing of giant chickens to learn to summon King Arthur’s henchmen.

Let us compare 7’s convoluted mess of a story to 10’s. Final Fantasy 10 follows Tidus, a young man with an Oedipus complex. One night, during a game of underwater space soccer [read: Blitzball], Tidus is interrupted by a colossal parasitic winged slug destroying the city of Zannarkand. Tidus and a friend of his father try to fight the creature but are ultimately defeated and Tidus wakes up in a completely different world. In this new world, a few things overlap. Space Soccer is larger than the super bowl, the city Zannarkand still exists though it is in ruins, and the giant slug unironically named Sin. Sin is the driving force for the game’s narrative. The creature is an evil that reincarnates itself and is allegedly a manifestation of what happens when man uses technology rather than prayer. So I guess Sin is just another Christian guilt complex villain.

Throughout the story Tidus befriends an unlikely group of heroes including a subpar Blitzball player who has a deep-seated hatred (bordering on racist) for the machine using Al-Bhed. There is a summoner on a pilgrimage to sacrifice herself to stop Sin for another couple dozen years. A biped lion wolf, and a few other JRPG tropes.

As the story progress you find out that Tidus’ father helped on the previous summoner’s pilgrimage and became Sin. Tidus finds out he isn’t real, and that if they defeat Sin he will fade into a literal dream. Tidus spends 10 minutes sorting out this existential crisis. There is some whistling. The party goes inside of Sin. Father, son, and not-so-holy ghost all die. The world falls back into its primitive state now liberated and free to use their technology as they please.

The games are pretty damn similar when reduced to the lowest common denominator. I have time and time again praised 10 while putting down 7. And if you have played both of them you would be quick to see how they are inherently different. But this is how I remember those games. And how I imagine many others remember them to some degree, minus a few scenes left out for brevity.

I was 13 and sitting in the back of my step-father’s Lincoln Navigator. There was a PS2 set up to the small screen and I was playing Final Fantasy 10; nearing the end. My step-dad just bought a “new car” scented car freshener. To this day I associate that smell with my favorite game of all time. This phenomenon, my addiction, to me is one of the most fascinating tricks the mind plays on us. Nostalgia, coming from the greek words nostos and algos translating to “homecoming pain.” There was a time it was used by the Swiss military where they thought the only treatment for the condition was to send the mercenaries home. Now we see there is something universal about “the better days.”

After discussing the concept of nostalgia with a handful of people I have noticed people tend to fall into two different camps. Some, myself included, look at nostalgia with joyous sorrow. As though there are memories, emotions, and sensations that can never be duplicated. Think back to a favorite Christmas or birthday present, remember how you felt? Even though I believe that feeling itself can be replicated, the way you remember that feeling is encapsulated in that moment and forever gone. In this first camp, there is a fear that if we don’t cling to those memories we may lose a piece of our identity with them. The second camp tends to view nostalgia pejoratively. Longing being some type of weakness. Even if there were “good ol’ days” you can’t ever get them back so why waste time trying? Now whether either of these mentalities is objectively more correct than the other, impossible to say. I’m more just fascinated that everybody feels homecoming pain. I did notice, however, that people more invested into games (video or sport) tend to sit in the former camp with myself. I think that is where Final Fantasy, especially 7, begins to fall apart. Am I using Nostalgia to say that Final Fantasy 7 is bad, even subjectively? No, not really. Instead I’m calling into question why it is important. Not important for gaming, but important to the gamers who believe it is the high bar for the series, or even games in general.

A few hundred words ago I drew attention to the similarities between 10 and 7. And I would like to narrow that down to just the two protagonists; Cloud and Tidus. At face value these characters are different. Tidus is a young, naive, hot-headed sports star trying to live up to a father he resents. Cloud is a battle-hardened soldier whose idol turned out to be a monster. We are supposed to identify as these two. Our perspective is limited to theirs. Both are detached from a larger picture that they inevitably find themselves the center of. So even if Cloud and Tidus are different from one another, their general arcs manage to remain the same. This is why people (myself included) find these games to be important in their lives. Both of their lives are lies. One is a fleeting dream of the gods and the other a blonde husk with a brunette’s memories. Neither character has any reason to exist.

Usually, if you listen, when people talk about their favorite music, movies, games it often is something from their childhood. You favorite Final Fantasy is most likely the first one you played. If it isn’t, your favorite was probably played around the ages of 13-16. Even if you have never played these games I want you to take a moment to just stop. Take a nice long hit of that homecoming pain. Go back, try to remember being 9, or 13, or 16. Try to remember who you were as a person. Sorry if you were awkward, but that awkwardness is kind of the point. These transitional points in our lives, they are moments when we are developing responsibilities and learning who we are. Whether it is your first day home without the babysitter, or a first day of high school, those periods are when we can exist outside of our parents and act as yourself. I remember once breaking down in front of my parents proclaiming I did not know who I was. I didn’t belong. I had no reason to exist. I was the same as Cloud or Tidus.

I suppose when I hate on Cloud as a character, or when others shun Tidus, what we are really doing is collectively hating how annoying and whiny younger versions of ourselves were. But it wasn’t always that way. Sure, we didn’t have to come to terms with being a clone. But maybe, like Tidus, we discover some aspect of our life is a lie. Santa isn’t real. We can’t all be astronauts. These tiresome characters are just us as tiresome teenagers. And it is hard not to look back and cling to that notion, a moment where we didn’t have to feel so alone. At that age it is nice to be understood.

So do I hate Final Fantasy 7? No, of course not, I’m mostly enjoying my third playthrough. But the story doesn’t speak to me like it did when I was a kid. I’m not sure it is supposed to either. This idea that no Final Fantasy will ever capture the same magic as the old ones is toxic. It is only going to hurt the growth of the series in the future. Nothing revolutionary can come of trying to capture the old while moving on to the new. 7, 10, 13, these games aren’t terrible by any means. But they are the Donald Trump of gaming. Maybe we can’t make Final Fantasy great again. Maybe it never was that great.

#Final fantasy x #final fantasy vii #writing #personal #ffvii #ffx #final fantasy #nostalgia

1 note · View note

recentanimenews · 5 years

Text

AnimEVO: The Fascinating Fan-Run Side of the World's Biggest Fighting Game Event

EVO is a massive event, filled with thousands of players from across the globe coming to compete in nine carefully selected official tournament games. But with hundreds of fighting games out there, it’s easy for someone’s favorite to be left off of the official roster. So what’s a fan of lesser-loved fighting games to do? You play in a side tournament at the event for your games of choice. And if there isn’t a side tournament? Well, then you roll up your sleeves and set one up yourself!

But being a tournament operator, or “TO,” isn’t easy. I should know, because my boyfriend Matt “LordBBH” Hall and I ran our own side tournament for the very first time this year! You not only have to deal with a lot of running around at the event itself, but you also have other logistics to worry about: getting space, keeping track of entry fees and payouts, handling registration, and getting your tournament publicity. Thankfully for us, there’s AnimEVO, a collective of EVO side tournaments that works to help both TOs and competitors participate in the games they love.

AnimEVO began back at Evolution 2014. As Capcom games like Super Street Fighter IV and Ultimate Marvel vs. Capcom 3 dominated the official EVO lineup, many so-called “anime” games, called such for their anime-derived aesthetic (and that they were typically more popular in Japan), were often left off the roster. The first AnimEVO featured games like Aquapazza, Melty Blood, Arcana Heart 3 Love Max, and even Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure All-Star Battle.

AnimEVO’s current co-director, Hagure, first joined the event for its 2016 incarnation. “I initially came to the team to create the AnimEVO website. I didn't plan on doing much else besides that at first,” Hagure admits. But as the event implemented online registration and required increased organization, he found himself becoming more and more involved. “Last year was probably the first I was really the one directing stuff.”

And AnimEVO certainly needed someone to wrangle everything. As EVO has grown, so has AnimEVO alongside it, allowing more and more games to join its collective of side tournaments. The amount of players entering every year has increased, too. “Removing a lot of the redundancies shared between TOs and streamers gives them more time to focus on promoting, organizing & running tournaments & streams, leading to more interest & a better event overall,” says Hagure. “Also, online pre-reg & having all the info in one place has helped attract more players. Getting cross-entries from players between games they wouldn't normally enter on-site is something we've seen a lot of. Finally, people, especially veteran [community members], are starting to see that we're here for them year after year, and know that we're dependable. Some folks are now anticipating our lineup more than EVO's [main games]!”

So what kind of games will you see at AnimEVO? Well, you have obvious anime-inspired games like Melty Blood, Vampire Savior, older versions of Guilty Gear, BlazBlue, and Persona 4 Arena. You’ll find games that have a direct anime connection, like Sailor Moon S for the Super Famicom, the Fist of the North Star fighter, Tatsunoko vs. Capcom, and Dengeki Bunko Fighting Climax. You’ll also find older games like Garou: Mark of the Wolves, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Tournament Fighters, and Fighter’s History Dynamite—the tournament Matt and I ran. Even competitive games not considered “fighting games” have been welcomed into the AnimEVO roster, like Gundam Versus, Windjammers, Catherine, and Puyo Puyo. One year there was even a Granblue Fantasy tournament. No, not Granblue Fantasy Versus, the mobile game!

“Obviously, we lean towards fighting-genre videogames, especially those that don't get the usual main-stage treatment. But pretty much as long as it is some kind of competitive game, that has the necessary TOs dedicated to run it, we'll allow it,” says Hagure.

Mark of the Wolves Tournament photo by @NocturnalSRK

This year, AnimEVO’s roster boasted a whopping thirty-one games for players to consider entering. While some players may stick to only one or two games, others may enter multiple titles—and place very well in many of them. Some players even come to EVO primarily for AnimEVO games—this year, a group of Korean players made a splash when they came out to EVO for the express purpose of playing in the tournament for Capcom’s fan favorite Dreamcast fighter Project Justice.

The Project Justice side tournament was dope as hell. @bananashot3 and the Korean team came all the way to Evo only to support PJ. Some old FGC heads showed up as well. @NeoRussell is the community MVP for running this. Great times were had ???? pic.twitter.com/ozpd8HrGDa

— Jotamide (@jotamide) August 4, 2019

Sponsors have stepped up interest in AnimEVO as well, with companies like Sega, Atlus, and Arc System Works promoting AnimEVO’s side tournaments and even contributing things like setups, streaming space, prizes, and winners’ pot bonuses. This year, Arc System Works helped out to run the first-ever tournament for the recently released KILL la KILL: IF, and Square-Enix stepped in to promote free entry and a major pot boost to Million Arthur Arcana Blood. “31 games was a pretty big jump for us, [and] with the ArcSys World Tour, KILL la KILL and Million Arthur Arcana Blood sponsor relations, we did grow a significant deal organizationally over previous years,” Hagure notes. Even the strange, obscure games can get some surprise support: the one-man crew behind the bizarre and beautiful freeware fighter Ultra Fight da Kyanta 2 was watching all the streams and giving out thanks to the players and organizers.

Of course, not every game in AnimEVO has a corporate sponsor behind it: many are run by and for longtime fans of these games simply to give other folks who love these titles a rare chance to play them competitively. That’s what motivated Matt and I to set up a side event for Fighter’s History Dynamite, a Neo-Geo fighter by Data East that is largely unknown to the mainstream, but beloved by fans of older fighting games. It had never been in an EVO before in any form, and we’d struggled to get casual play set up at previous EVOs, so we decided to take matters into our own hands.

Making the leap from playing to TOing is quite a jump, however. At a major event like EVO, there are many players across many games, all of whom have different schedules and potential conflicts. Chasing down people to play often proved challenging, especially since FHD’s playerbase of Neo-Geo fans overlapped a lot with players being called to play in their pools for the new Samurai Shodown at the same time. Brackets were tough to update online, necessitating a shift to tracking everything on good ol’ pen-and-paper. Japanese players with unusual control setups needed help configuring their sticks and buttons and conveying information to their opponents, which required me to step in as an interpreter. We had hoped to have the tournament done in two hours, but it wound up being more like three-and-a-half due to needing to chase people down to play, make calls on no-show disqualifications, and deal with other odd issues that cropped up. Even with two people, it was hard work!

In the end, however, people really enjoyed our tournament, and several players went home with custom-made trophies featuring original art by Anthony Vaccarelli. It was tough, and mistakes were made, but in the end most everyone had a great time.

Animevoのファイターズヒストリーダイナマイト優勝しました！やったぜEVO覇者だ！世界一だ！#EVO#FHD pic.twitter.com/W8RvcVVDHI

— ケンちゃん様さん@8.24白猫ファンミ (@ilpkenchan) August 3, 2019

So, what should you do if you want to run a tournament for your favorite neglected fighting game at EVO? Well, for starters, you must realize that you are going to be committing a huge chunk of your time at the event (and before it) to make sure everything goes as smoothly as possible. You’ll also have to make tough decisions—if that one guy hasn’t shown up to check in for the past hour, should you disqualify him because he’s holding up tournament progression, even though he’s been doing well? Sometimes you just have to act in the best interests of all the other participants.

Hagure has his own advice for would-be AnimEVO TOs. “First, make sure you're committed to going to EVO and running a side tournament during the largest FGC event. Dedication is the most important thing we ask for. Once you're absolutely committed, we always send out a call for volunteers and create an application form shortly after EVO does their initial lineup announcement. Filling this out & returning it ASAP is the best way to make sure we can work with [people interested in helping with AnimEVO].”

“When it comes to qualifications: We highly suggest having had TOing experience, especially at a major or regional sized event. Running side events (especially the game they've submitted) is a huge plus. For less experienced folks, we ask them to find someone with more experience to help them run their game. Outside of that: Stay informed and have passion for your game! Love for our games is really what motivates us all in the end.”

What competitive game would you like to see at EVO as a main game or a side tournament? Would you be willing to run it yourself if needed? Talk amongst yourselves in the comments!

------

Heidi Kemps writes about games, otaku culture, and other odd topics of interest across many different publications. The amount of doujinshi and figures in her living space is either astonishingly awesome or somewhat terrifying, depending on your point of view. She runs the website gaming.moe and can be found on Twitter @zerochan.

By: [email protected]

#Anime #News #Latest in Anime News by Crunchyroll!

0 notes