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clockworkgraystairs · 4 years

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There is no such thing as vampires #1 || Jurdan AU

Jurdan Smut Week 2020 • DAY 2

The prompt was technically dagger play...it didn’t really worked that way but HEY more smut! (vampire smut cough)

@jurdannet @jurdannetrevels

Rating: E (no I don’t mean ‘everyone’)

Warnings: Explicit content, mentions of blood, some biting (it’s a vampire au c’mon), swear words (just in case)

Summary:

Behind me stands a tall, slender man dressed in black trousers and one of those puffy white shirts men always use in period TV dramas. Raven curls frame the sharp angles of his face and his pale skin resembles marble. I stare at him unsure if my eyes widen because of the scare or how good looking he is. Maybe both.

His lips curve as if he finds my reaction somehow satisfying.

Extra comments: Just because I’m extra af, I’ll leave you the ambience music videos I listened while writing this. In case you’d like to hear them while reading:

Rain in a forest at night - Haunted Mansion/rain/thunder/wind - Narnia Lullaby

Written for: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 MA’AM AS ALWAYS THANK YOU FOR ALL THE HELP AND SUPPORT, FOR BETAING THIS UNENDING PIECE AND FOR HELPING ME CRAFTING THE IDEA FOR IT! ❤️

Part 1 || Part 2

Masterlist • AO3

“Please tell me again why are we doing this?” I ask for the third time, leaning to rest my head on my sister’s shoulder. We bounce as the uncomfortable van we travel in turns to a cobbled path, leading us deeper into the woods.

“Because,” Vivi hisses back. “Your little brother is currently in his Twilight-obsession phase, and he just broke up with his girlfriend so we’re trying to cheer him up!”

“He’s 9! And they lasted like, what? Four hours?”

In that moment, Oak turns violently from the front seat, scowling at me. “First of all Jude, we were together two full days ok? She was the love of my life and suddenly she’s not sure about us anymore? Now I shall never find love again! I might have to become a priest. I expect a little consideration.”

Vivi ruffles his hair affectionately. “We absolutely understand, your sister here doesn’t have an ounce of romance in her veins but of course she supports the cause.”

That said, he returns to his place. I bite my lip hard, trying not to laugh. Typical Oak. I love my brother I really do, even if half of the time I can’t understand his dramatic outbursts.

Sighing, I stare through the window, to the heavy clouds gathering on top of us. Great. We are probably far away from the highway by now, nothing more than trees, rocks and occasional wild animals around. For some reason, our father had thought that there was no better way of fixing a kid’s broken heart than going on a quest in search of legends and hidden castles.

The thing is that apparently, it works. Instead of an incessant whining about love being doomed, my brother spends the days throwing the most random facts about werewolves, vampires, ghosts and any impossible creature. To be honest, I don’t think wikipedia and the Twilight books are a reliable source, but if it makes Oak happy I could live a couple of days with it. And most importantly if I have to choose between this or spending the week back at home with my mother and twin sister going to tea parties for old ladies, well, the answer is very clear.

I remember reading a few books about myths when I was younger. When I turned fifteen, I developed a hard crush on Brad Pitt after I saw Interview with the Vampire, filling half of the walls in my room with posters of him. Even now ten years later, I actually enjoy talking about old folklore and legends, urban myths and stuff like that.

What bugs me, are the fraudulent morons who want to take advantage of Oak’s naive curiosity to engage us in the most ridiculous tours that were obviously a waste of money. So far, we’d entered three “museums” where most of the so-called relics were made of plastic, and a haunted house with special effects so poorly done, father had discreetly asked for his money back. Only another two of the places we visited were actually interesting, but since the guides spent most of the time flirting with Vivi or me, it had annoyed our father.

Now though, we are driving behind the car of an old couple who swore their ancestors owned a castle where true vampires had lived once. The sole mention of the word “castle” was enough to make Oak hang from our father’s sleeve begging to go.

I’m not going to lie, it is an intriguing idea. But I remain a little worried about how much money Madoc is ready to pay before he hurries his little son back to his fantasy books and videogames.

“Dad, did you know that vampires like to live in the woods because it allows them to make racing competitions without being interrupted?” Oak asks with enthusiasm.

Madoc gasps. “Do they? Is it because they’re so fast?”

Okay, he might be willing to pay more than I thought. Next to me, Vivi muffles a laugh and keeps taking pictures for her instagram, occasionally asking for my help.

Upon arriving at the castle I have to suppress a curse. This, now, is a real castle. Nothing like the pitiful buildings we’d visited before. It is huge, made of pure stone and a modest wooden bridge that connects the entrance with the spot where the cars park. A slight fog covers the sides of the castle giving it a creepier look.

A shiver goes down my back. I turn to find my family who are all equally gaping at the place in front of them. Oak is visibly shaking with excitement. Vivi shoots me an astonished look before taking my brother’s hand and following the couple across the bridge.

The first thought that pops into my mind is that this place must have been taken out from a movie. Or set up for one. Maybe this is one of those pranks for TV. There is no other explanation for the massive room we find behind the giant front gate. Every inch of the walls is covered by paintings, several images barely recognizable through the dust. Aged furniture rests under dust and spiderwebs, pointing out they haven’t been used in quite some time. The illumination doesn’t help either. Electric lights hang from a few spots on the walls, though not enough for the big space, which I suspect is the reason that long candles are lit up too.

My next thought is that I should’ve brought my sweater. The damn place is freezing.

“Phew, sorry about the dust!” The old man says, flashing an embarrassed smile to us. “We were not planning to have any visitors yet.”

“You said this is going to be a museum?” Madoc asks, carefully surveying the walls. Next to him, Vivi tightens her hold on my brother’s hand to prevent him from starting to run around. I swear his eyes are about to pop out of their sockets.

“It will indeed! This place has been in our family for generations, but since it’s hard to adapt it to modern technology it was abandoned.” He turns to Oak and winks. “Not to mention the creepy things that happen here all the time.”

His gaze widens. “What kind of things?”

“Well, some distant relatives used to try spending their vacations here. But after a couple of days they left in a big rush, claiming some strange force had commanded them to go away.” With a lower voice, he adds. “They also mentioned noises coming out from empty rooms and dark hallways. Steps. Shadows that followed them along the place.”

For a second everyone remains silent. The only noise I can hear is the wind outside and the start of a slight rain. Somehow my hands are even colder.

“The legend says,” The woman, whose name is Marrow if I remember it correctly, continues while taking one chandelier with her hand. “This was the hideout of ancient vampires, how many, we don’t know. But they didn’t appreciate people trying to live within their domains.”

“So why come here at all?” Vivi asks. “Isn’t it dangerous?”

“It might be.” She shrugs. “But that’s half of the fun, isn’t it?”

“We like to think we’ve found a safe way to open this castle to the public without taking any risks. We will use a part of it as a museum, to show some of the family relics. But be aware, no one is allowed to go further than the marked area.” He signals at the yellow tape stuck on the floor forming arrows.

“If you please...” Marrow says, motioning at the stairs where the markings start.

They get me for a moment, not gonna lie. The surroundings and the way they speak are creepy enough to make me doubt my beliefs for a second. I shake my head to clear those thoughts away and walk behind my family. There’s no such thing as vampires or haunted castles.

We go through passages. Madoc has to remind Oak to not touch anything, constantly. From what I see, he’s living his best day. Several counters line up side by side against the wall. Some of them contain jewelry, others weapons, old writing pens among other things. Most of them carry a family shield, although it’s too blurry to properly identify what it says.

The rain thickens outside and Marrow keeps talking. She tells the story of her so called ancestors, whose family were big enough to fill all the rooms in the castle. Elwen, Eldred… something like that, and his many wives had once lived here. Along with his abounding children. I see in Oak’s face the intention to ask about how that family arrangement worked but Vivi gives him a slight pull of his hair.

I would have thought our guides would try to keep a proud name for their so-called ancestors. But they don’t. In fact, she seems particularly interested in explaining how Eldred’s cruel and terrible nature brought him nothing but disgrace. His once prosperous castle and assets were gone little by little. He claimed he was under the effects of a curse, but no one dared believing him. At least not until people started disappearing.

I stop listening at some point, focusing my attention on the relics in front of me. I’ve always felt a significant attraction to weapons, but not the ordinary ones like guns or rifles. These ones though, such beautiful daggers and swords. I’d give a kidney just to hold one of them.

On the next shelf books pile one next to the other, the dust around them a clear sign of how long they’ve been unbothered. All except for one. The navy blue cover has almost no dust at all, yet it looks like it would fall apart with a gentle blow of wind. The title is partially gone, probably through time.

I turn my head to my family but they’re gone, probably to another corridor since I can still hear the muffled voice of Marrow and my brother. Would she care at all if I check out that book?

I bite my lip. As long as it doesn’t break it’s probably alright. Standing on the tip of my toes I reach for it.

“That is an excellent book.”

I shriek and whip around, my hand flies to my mouth trying to cover the embarrassing sound. The book falls open next to my feet.

His lips curve as if he finds my reaction somehow satisfying. “My personal favorite. Too bad the author was a poisonous bunch-backed toad.”

My mouth opens to apologize, but I only manage to let out a strangled. “Shit”

The stranger lifts an eyebrow and chuckles.

“Sorry, I- that wasn’t what I meant to say.” I stutter. I feel as if my heart has jumped to my throat. “I wasn’t trying to steal the book.”

“I did not say you were.” He answers, his voice is like velvet.

I nod and take a deep breath. “I came in with my family. Marrow is showing us the place.”

His dark eyes wander down my body, but not like one of those rude men on the streets. No. Something in his gaze feels feral, like an animal sizing up his prey. A strange urge to run pools in my stomach, yet at the same time my muscles seem to have forgotten how to do so.

He looks me in the eyes again and it’s all gone. I let go of the tension in my back and a breath I didn’t know I was holding. When he smiles again, I feel as if I could trust him. Why shouldn’t I?

“And are you enjoying the tour?” He bends to pick up the book I’d dropped before and puts it back on the shelf. His movements are fluid and carefree. I doubt I’ve ever seen such elegance in a simple action. It is unsettling as much as it is attractive. Then I realize I’m supposed to answer.

“Yes, this is amazing actually.” I look around and take in the aged stone of the walls and ceiling. In that corridor there’s only one electric lamp, the rest is only lightened by candles. I can see our shadows dancing along to the flames. “All of this really helps getting in the ‘mood’.”

“The mood?”

I look at him and notice his tilted head. “Yeah you know, the mood of enchanted castles and old legends. This is well put enough that a credulous person would believe any story. Marrow is pretty good at it too.” Motioning a hand to him I add. “They even have their own actor.”

A thunder roars outside. “I beg your pardon?”

I roll my eyes and flash him a smile. “You don’t really have to keep the charade with me. I’m not some schoolgirl.”

“Yet I managed to pull a scream out of you, didn’t I?” The way he says it feels as if he was talking about an entirely different subject. Heat creeps up my cheeks.

“That was… not the same.” I mumble. “I didn’t hear you approaching. That could scare the living hell out of anybody.”

“I have been told I am quite sneaky, I concede you that.” He nods. “Why don’t I give you the rest of the tour? As an apology, of course.”

He’s doing his job, I remind myself, he’s not flirting with you.

“You haven’t even told me your name.” I say. “If we’re roaming around a castle together I should at least know who’s guiding me.”

That sounded an awful lot like flirting. Dammit.

“Cardan, at your service madam.” The tone he uses feels like a caress, he bows his head in a way I’ve only seen in movies. He takes his role seriously. I almost chuckle, but the sound dies in my throat.

“Cardan.” I repeat, just for the pleasure of doing it. “My name is Jude.”

He straightens. “Delighted to meet your acquaintance.” He answers and offers me his arm. “Shall we, Jude?”

I can’t believe how far away my family has gone. Cardan and I walk through a couple of corridors and still there is no trace of them. Did we take that long talking?

He’s an excellent guide, I have to acknowledge that.

While Marrow uses a tone of suspense and mystery, Cardan has this melancholy in his voice that sounds as if he’s talking about a memory. It’s bewitching. He also drops the most ridiculous “facts” about the people on the paintings. I refrain myself from asking if inventing things is allowed for employees, because saying that the girl with the pearl necklace enjoyed to play on the beach while saying she was the Princess of the Sea, certainly sounds like it.

“If you bite your lip one more time, I am going to do it for you.”

My heart skips a bit and I let go of my lower lip. I hadn’t realized I was tugging it. It’s an unconscious habit. I turn to him and I find his gaze different, hungry. It sends a shiver down to a place I know it shouldn’t. He arches an eyebrow as though he notices it.

“Is that a thing vampires like to do?” I say, trying to lighten the mood. The last thing I want him to know is that for the last twenty minutes I’ve been listening to him speak wishing he put a different use to that wicked mouth of his.

His gaze doesn’t change. “It is a thing I would like to do.”

I am pretty sure my expression is giving me up by now. Knowing my traitorous body, I’m probably flushed, my mouth open in awe. Desire coils inside me.

At my lack of answer, he continues. “Why don’t I show you something vampires really like to do?”

He walks back without letting go of my hand. I notice he steps out from the marked section and into a forbidden corridor.

The sensation returns, the one that is telling me to run. The problem is that I don’t know whether to run away, or straight to it. My mind wants both and my body, only one.

“You’re going to the restricted area.” I’m partially surprised by how breathless my voice sounds. “You can’t go in there…”

Cardan pauses and a confused expression crosses his face. A second later, it returns to his charming and teasing smile. “Are you afraid?”

I am.

Yet, I don’t care. I walk into the shadows with him.

As we cross the passage darkened by the lack of chandeliers I tell myself this is a terrible, terrible idea. The way he devours my mouth the moment a door slams shut behind us, convinces me it is the best.

Cardan pushes me against the wall, the cold temperature of the stone goes through my clothes making me gasp. He takes the opportunity and kisses me harder, his tongue explores my mouth with such deliciousness I have to bite back a moan.

My fingers are tangled in his hair pulling him closer to me, if such a thing is even possible. His hands are everything but still. They roam intensely from my breasts, down my sides and finally to my rear, where he grabs me, pressing me against his pelvis. I hear him groan and the sound makes something clench inside me.

Before I can double-think about it, one of my hands lowers to rub his hardness, still hidden behind his trousers. His breath hitches. He pulls back a bit and whispers to my ear. “Needy little human.”

I frown a moment, something about his words not clicking inside my brain but whatever it is I forget it the moment he slides his cold hands under my jersey. I yelp at the sensation, not sure if what flutters down my back is a result of the temperature or the eagerness which he’s holding me with. When he reaches my bra I hesitate for a moment. Cardan pauses too and leans back to stare into my eyes.

“Do you want to stop?” His voice is throaty and charged with desire. Still, he doesn’t make a move, waiting for my answer.

An instinctive part of me knows this is something I shouldn’t be doing. But that’s definitely not any close to me wanting to stop. Without removing my eyes from his I take the hem of my jersey to pull it over my head. The piece of fabric hits the floor, but neither of us pays attention to it. Once again Cardan’s gaze roams me in that predatory way.

I don’t stagger this time.

When my bra falls to the floor too, I take his hand and guide it to my jean’s button. “Do I look like I want to stop?”

Without hesitation he yanks the button open and slides his hand inside to cup the apex of my thighs. The contrast of my warm skin against his coldness makes my hips buck. Cardan buries his other hand in my hair and tilts my head back. I can feel his lips nipping down my jaw and my neck. A moan escapes my lips as he swipes a finger along my heat. He hums in response, the vibrations of it against my neck makes my eyes roll back.

He continues his ministrations until he feels me wet enough to slide a finger inside, he curls and pulls out. Then back inside. My breath comes out in elaborated pants as he quickens his pace. My hands almost finish unbuttoning his shirt when he slides another finger through my folds, his movements turn fast and punishing. Wet sounds taint the silence around us. As pleasure takes full control of my body I cling to him like a life saver, trying to muffle my moans.

“Let go Jude, let go for me.” He breathes next to my ear. My back arches and I sob a curse, writhing down on his hand.

He slows down as I come back from my orgasm, but never stops. Despite the freezing surroundings a drop of sweat runs down my chest. My heart beats as if I just ran a marathon. Cardan’s lazy moves continue, frequently grazing that spot that makes me mewl.

I hear him sigh. “You smell so good.” He claims my mouth one more time and bites me hard enough to make me wince. His tongue caresses my lower lip and a warm throb expands through my veins. He freezes and pulls back, releasing me. I stare at him in confusion, or at least as much as I can manage giving my current state.

He pants a couple of times before looking up at me. There’s a fiercess in his eyes that would’ve been scary under normal situations, right now, it only makes me want him more. He swallows before finally speaking. “If we go further, I won’t be able to stop.” His voice is like sandpaper.

My body seems to work on its own account, as I move to cup his face between my hands. “I already told you.”

“Jude…” He warns me, but I interrupt him joining my lips to his.

“I want this.” I breathe into his mouth. Cardan lets out a defeated groan before pulling my body back against his. Either he’s been holding back or it is until that moment that I realize how strong he actually is. He kisses me like a starved man and I can feel my pulse rise once again.

Soon his shirt joins my other clothing. My fingers trace his chest and torso, marveled at the softness of his skin. I mimic him moments before and kiss his neck. A low sound that almost resembles a growl comes out from his throat. My hands travel lower.

Somehow I manage to free his raging erection from his trousers, closing my hand around him. He hisses and then tilts his hips up to my touch. I start pumping him with unsure movements before gaining confidence to do it harder, tighter. Now it’s his turn to curse. Even though it sounds like something taken out from a Shakespeare novel, it makes my core pulse.

Cardan grips the hem of my jeans strong enough that for a moment I fear he’d rip them away.

“Take these off.” He demands instead.

I’m not sure of how I manage to do it. My mind feels blurred with a mix of sensations. Disoriented, not sure about exactly how my body is doing all of that, and the bliss of knowing I’m enjoying every second of it.

Before the air hits my skin, Cardan lifts me from the ground. My legs circle his waist in a reflexive move. His lips quirk in approval. Then my back is once again pressed against the wall, making me arch in a failed attempt to avoid touching the cold stone. A sound leaves my mouth, though it is not clear if it’s a protest or a moan. I hear him chuckle in my ear and I turn my head, searching his lips.

His kiss is slower but still deep. I feel as if small electric sparks are tickling every single one of my nerves. More, I need more. Cardan holds me in place with his hips, letting his hands wander up and down my legs.

The tip of his shaft is grazing my core over the thin fabric of my remaining piece of clothing, with an aching slowness that is not enough to ease my thirst. More.

I might have said that out loud because Cardan’s hips grind faster against me. It feels so good. And yet, it’s not enough.

I whine his name like a plea.

He continues for a couple of torturing seconds before reaching between my thighs again. There’s no teasing now as he moves my panties aside and immediately sinks his fingers inside me, pumping in and out with a pace that has me gasping in no time. He murmurs something I can’t understand and lines himself up to my entrance.

With soft, deliberate movements he slides through my heat, letting me feel every inch of him until he’s completely filling me. Then he stills. My muscles twitch around him, trying to adjust to the invasion. The exquisiteness of it is making my head swoon.

Cardan grabs my jaw and locks his gaze with mine. I can imagine what he’s looking at. Hooded eyes and flushed skin, though he doesn’t let me think a lot about it as he starts to move. Slow at first, with careful strokes that quickly evolve into long and deep. My mouth falls open at the sensation and my eyes shut.

“I warned you.” I hear him pant. “That there was no coming back.”

A whimper escapes my lips. I’m not even sure I’m actually trying to say something. He doesn’t seem to care either and leans to whisper to my ear. “You are mine now, Jude.”

There is something in the way he says it, his words carrying some compelling implication I can’t fully catch. His lips trail down my neck and I want to answer. To tell him that I am, that after the way he’s taking me, how could it be otherwise?

That’s when I feel a sharp stinging pain on the base of my throat.

I cry out and try to shake it away but whatever it is won’t let me go. Cardan’s words echo at the back of my mind, Needy little human.

As if sensing my thoughts he grabs my thighs and opens them wider, he thrusts into me harder and faster. Everything mixes in sensation. Pain leaves as fast as it came, leaving behind it that throb in my veins I can’t really explain. It is more intense now, what I felt as warm now is scorching. My entire body feels like it’s on fire, I’ve never felt so exhilarated before in my life. I don’t want it to stop.

Cardan sucks on my neck again and I moan his name. Without realizing it, I’m on the brink of another orgasm. I only realize it because he groans when my legs start to shiver around him. I cling to his neck and his hair. If I’m pulling too hard I can’t really know. A familiar swirl comes up from my core to the rest of my body as I spasm around him. It takes me a moment to notice the broken moans and sobs I hear come from my own mouth.

He keeps going a little longer until his fingers tighten over my skin, surely leaving bruises on both thighs. Muffled moans ring against my skin as he comes, thrusting in a couple of times more before stilling. A warm sensation covers the place where we join together. His mouth lets go of my neck. I grunt and shiver.

He puts me down carefully, still holding my waist, which is good considering I don’t know if I’m able to stand by myself. I feel dizzy. Cardan lowers his lips to mine one more time. He’s slow and gentle as though he’s worried. There is a slightly metallic taste in his tongue but I don’t pay attention to it. I trace the fine features of his face with trembling fingers. Little by little my senses start to take in the surroundings, the cold.

The place rumbles with another crack of thunder.

“You have to go back.” Cardan says, barely pulling his lips apart. Go back. I frown, then images of my family crash in my mind. I look around searching for the door, there is something on the floor. I realize soon those are my clothes. Shit. The tour, Oak. How much time have I been gone?

I dress in a hurry, not really caring if I put on my jersey correctly. He does the same but with the calm an elegance he has.

Panic must be written in my face because he grabs my chin and turns me to him. “Hey. Calm down.” He soothes me. Then his tone changes, turns commanding. His eyes are darker too. “Listen to me. You are going to do exactly as I say, do you understand Jude?”

I want to ask why, but for some reason I only nod. Cardan grabs my hand and pulls me out of whatever room we were in. “You must follow this passage until you find a way to turn left. Then continue until you see a painting of a black snake then turn right, you cannot miss it or you will get lost. Walk straight, and you will be back to a safe area.”

“But-” I start. I don’t want to go alone. And I don’t understand why but I don’t want to separate from him either. Which is nonsense, I barely know him and still...

He interrupts me. “I cannot go with you, I have lost so much control already and I don’t think…”

“Cardan, I can’t-”

A growl echoes in his chest and he pulls me closer to him. While his voice is still hypnotizing it sounds threatening now. “You will not tell anybody about what you saw here. Now go if you intend to leave this place alive.”

Then he's gone. I can’t recall if I blinked or turned, because a moment before I could still touch him and now he vanished.

I take a deep breath and start walking. Focus. Go straight, then turn right. Or was it left?

All passages look the same, some spaces don’t even have a painting or anything at all to help me differentiate them. Sometimes I whip around, thinking I heard a familiar chuckle behind me. Distant rain is the only sound that is a constant companion, but even with it I’m able to hear an echo of every step I give. It unsettles me more with every minute that passes. Although I feel more in control of my body than before, my knees falter constantly and a sensation of tiredness slides over my mind.

I find the snake painting just as I’d started to think I would be trapped here forever.

It’s huge, and despite the years that have probably passed the scales still seem to shine. The head is painted in an angle that gives the illusion of the eyes following the person looking at it. It doesn’t help that the candle’s flames also make the snake look as if it’s moving. Stalking. Before noticing, I start hyperventilating. I shut my eyes close and turn away. Something is terribly wrong with me, I need to get out.

Turning right, I start running. I cover my ears fearing that if I don’t, I’ll start hearing the snake’s hiss behind me.

I cross an arch made with the same stone and stop right in my tracks upon realizing somehow I’m back at the room where we first arrived. I blink to adjust my eyes to the change of light, since here’s where all the electric lamps are. The room is empty though.

I’m not sure of what I am supposed to do now. Sit and wait? Go out to the car?

While I’m weighing my options, trying to choose any that doesn’t imply dropping myself on the floor to have a panic attack, I hear murmurs and steps getting closer.

“Jude!” My little brother yells and runs to me. Behind him, Vivi scans me like she’s trying to find something wrong. I straighten my back and put on my best calmed face.

“Where were you?” She demands. “We lost you hours ago! Are you ok? You look pale.”

Always such a mother hen, I sigh. “I’m fine. I fell behind and lost y’all. Then... I guessed it would be better to just… return here.”

I try not to frown at my last words, since I didn’t fully intend to say them. You will not tell anybody about what you saw here.

“Jude knows how to take care of herself.” My father adds. I could hug him, but we’re not exactly the affectionate type. So I just flash him a smile.

Vivi does not look convinced but still stands down. “I guess so. The weather did a mess with your hair though.” A flash of Cardan’s fingers pulling from it to gain access to my neck sends a shiver through my body. Had that really happened just minutes before?

Before I can answer, Marrow calls for us. We turn to find her standing next to a big set of paintings that apparently were covered with a curtain. “You cannot leave without meeting the royal family.”

The canvases are ordered to mimic a family tree. A man with a severe expression rests at the very top. Eldred, I assume. Just by looking at it I feel judged. I can’t imagine what was like to actually live with him. The pictures of his wives look all so different but under them, their sons do have resemblance to one another. A weird sensation tickles my fingers as my gaze continues travelling over the paintings. Finally, I get to the last one. Once more, I cover my mouth to avoid an undesired sound.

Staring back at me I see Cardan.

I don’t care if it’s a painting, there is no way I could not recognize those features. Those lips.

“A big family, I see.” Madoc’s words seem so far away.

Marrow hums in agreement. “The Greenbriars always felt proud of their vast offspring. Such attractive sons and daughters. It’s a shame the curse took most of their lives all those centuries ago.”

“Did he…” I start, without knowing how to continue.

She approaches me to look at the canvas. “Ah, young master Cardan. He was the last one of Eldred’s children.” Then a frown appears on her face. “There was a lot of controversy regarding his death. Some say he died because of the curse, some others say he was the curse. The books all have different versions.”

“That sounds creepy as fuck.” Vivi says.

“Creepy as fuck.” My brother mimics her, the thoughtful expression on his face makes him look ridiculous. We cackle as Vivi shouts Oak he’s not supposed to say bad words.

By the time we get out of the castle the rain has decreased to a drizzle.

Madoc carries Oak on his shoulders, listening to his non-stop squeals of excitement after visiting what he calls ‘a real vampire hideout’. This time, I don’t find the words to contradict him. Vivi is the first one to get to the car, shouting back some nonsense about the Greenbriars needing a protection hex.

The moment I step down from the bridge something shifts in my head and I feel as if I had just woken up.

Perhaps it is me who needs a protection spell after all.

Before closing the car’s door, I turn to the castle one more time. Marrow and her husband wave at us from the front gate.

A dull ache throbs on the base of my neck and my hand flies to the spot. I retrieve it and see blood staining my fingers.

My heart misses a beat when I lift my gaze to the upper windows, where a tall figure with white shirt and dark hair is looking right back.

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Tags: @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 @sweetlyvillainous @poeticbrownmermaid @aesthetics-11 @thesirenwashere @jurdanhell @nightbringer @b00kworm @mysweetvillain @thefolkofthefic @yafandomsdotnet @vanessa172003 @booksandothersecrets

If you wish to be tagged/untagged (or if I forgot to tag you like an utter idot) please let me know!

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redhawtriot · 4 years

Text

Caught in the Act (Bakugou x Reader)

Tip Jar ☕- Not expected but always appreciated💞

So… this is technically like half of the request but I had way too many ideas for this (and its already long as hell. oops). I’m only doing one Bakugou cheating scenario on this page so go big or go home, right?

I also saw that this blog that I made like two weeks ago has like 100 of you guys following it wtf?! So to celebrate, I’m making my first actual series an interactive one! The following chapters will be very short (besides this one, she thicc), but each will have a question at the end that will determine the events of the next chapter! I made an account on OpinionStage where you guys can vote on through Tumblr, so hopefully at least one of you is excited.

Part two (the other half of this request) is where this fun will begin, so stay whelmed.

Fuck this site for making me repost this :)

Love you guys

HnM💕

Warning: Don’t read this to your fucking kids

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Essentially, your girls night for the week had been, in lack of better words, a shit show.

The brisk, fall air pierced your skin, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to wrap your arms around yourself for warmth. You didn’t even want to touch your sticky filth.

You just wanted to run home to your Bakugou– he was all the warmth that you needed and more. More than anything, you wanted to forget about the foul man that had assaulted you at your now ex-favorite club.

A frown momentarily sneaked its way onto your face to corrupt the brave expression you had held in front of your girlfriends,

“Hey” you had raised your hands to halt your friend, “Don’t do something ridiculous! I promise I’m alright, Jirou!” You had begged her when she had prepared to fight the man as he grabbed your arms. You had already politely asked him to back away from you after he tried to grind himself against you. He called it dancing—you called it sexual harassment.

The nightclub security had already been watching this man and immediately closed in on him to escort him out of the club as soon as he moved in towards you. But it must not have been fast enough.

Everything happened so rapidly that you could barely blink in time before you were drenched in a sticky liquid. Still, you kept a calm expression on your face. Your friends’ careers as heroes depended on how calmly you acted,

“No, it’s okay! I needed to head home anyway!” you had argued with your girls after the man had thrown his drink at you. You tried to bring a smile onto your face as the slight sting of the alcohol penetrated your eyes, “Bakugou will pick me up,” you blinked heavily.

Of course he wouldn’t pick you up in front of the club.

No, that would just be a disaster waiting to happen.

He would more than likely blow the entire place up once he found out what had transpired.

However, after the fourth failed attempt at calling Bakugou, you had given up. It was honestly a stretch anyway. He barely made it past nine o’ clock most nights, and it was well on its way to midnight. You could see your breath as you gave off a heavy sigh, but you never faltered in your steps.

You just wanted to go home to your man, clean your pathetic ass in a hot shower, and forget other men existed in this world.

You groaned to yourself as you remembered how late your guys’ roommate, Kirishima, would stay up in the front living room playing video games—the same front living room you would have to sneak past to make your way to the sanctuary of your shower.

You opened the front door as quietly as you could and prodded your, matted, liquor-contaminated head into the threshold of your home. You probably looked like a wild animal as you scrunched your eyebrows and stared at the dark living room for a while before finally building up the courage to tiptoe towards your bathroom.

You didn’t even want to go to your room in fear of interrogation from a very sleepy, very pissed off Bakugou.

Better not poke the bear. Better just wash the stink and sins away and keep it moving like nothing had happened.

Kirishima not being awake on his Xbox for once was a blessing on a normal day, but today it was truly god sent. Hell, even Bakugou not being able to pick you up might have been a blessing in disguise—or so you thought.

As soon as you turned your shower off you heard it– a steady, creaking noise.

“What the fuck?” you whispered to yourself as your face crinkled upwards in disgust. Kirishima hardly ever brought girls home, and when he did, he was as quiet as a mouse with them. In fact, you hardly even knew the women were there until the next morning when they awkwardly wobbled out of the apartment with their heads tucked down.

The pace of the creaking sped up and the smack of the headboard joined in a repetitive thudding, causing you to freeze in place. Breathless feminine moans joined the little musical number in increasing volume for short while before they became more ‘shrieky’ in nature.

A grimace fell upon your expression, “What the fuck?” you once again mouthed. You quickly snatched your towel and wrapped it around you with haste as you tried to run from the unholy concerto that was being orchestrated in your room.

Wait.

Your room?

Your room was the room that was connected to the bathroom walls—not Kiri’s.

It was in that moment of realization that you heard the moans return, this time a gruff male voice joined the duet,

“Shit!” The moan was drawn out until it faded into a heavy, guttural groan.

You paused again as your heart dropped deeply into your chest. You stretched your hearing and waited for his voice to appear again over her constant whines, “Just like that, baby,” his voice reemerged as he groaned deeply. Your heart harshly reminded you of its existence as it lurched suddenly.

That sounded like Bakugou.

But it had to be a mistake. You rehearsed this thought repeatedly as you sped to your room as quietly as you could—your mind racing even faster than your legs. Your Bakugou was sound asleep in his bed like he was this time of night every night. He was sound asleep and stretched out on his side of the bed with the lights off and with a sock thrown over the flashing light of his work desk computer—he hated that light at night.

You faltered as your hand stuttered uncontrollably toward your door handle. Bakugou’s never even looked at another woman before. It took him years to throw even you, his current fiancé, a second glance. He would never in a million years be on the other side of this door with another woman making those ungodly sounds.

Sounds you hadn’t heard in months.

It had to be Kirishima you tried to convince yourself as you gently twisted the door handle, ‘Please god, he just went into the wrong room,’ you prayed as you threw the door open.

Every single muscle in your body froze as you ingested the sight in front of you—your heart included.

You caught the tail end of their act, and you could only watch in complete disgust as the muscles of your beloved’s back violently contracted in sweat glistened pulses.

The woman made horrified eye contact with you as she was being pinned against your grandmother’s dresser, yet she couldn’t fight the last moan that ripped itself from her, her legs spasming as Bakugou’s flesh smacked into hers for a final time.

He desperately pressed himself into her like he was trying to become her, “Fuck,” he groaned into her neck. You noticed his nails dig deeply into her raised wrists as his hips rashly stuttered to a stop, “Don’t clench around me like that, babe. Relax.” His shaky breath demanded.

The woman looked far from relaxed, “H-Hey!” she anxiously tapped his shoulder, trying to warn him of their impending doom. Her wide eyes were still fixated on your ever-growing livid ones.

“BAKUGOU!” You screeched. The relaxed emotion that you had so desperately tried to keep plastered onto your face that night completely shattered as you angrily marched up to him and snatched the back of his hair, “You bastard!!”

As you yanked downward, he surprisingly fell to the ground, disconnecting with the other slut on trial as they both flew to the ground.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” he yelled as his body heavily thudded into the ground.

“That’s my line, you fucking jackass!” you felt your voice crack. Everything hurt. There was pressure in the back of your eyes, the front of your chest, your legs, your throat, your toes, your everything. Everything in your body felt weak under your boiling blood as if you were about to explode.

“Y-Y/N…?” you saw his trademark pissed off expression drop to an unfamiliar one as his eyes finally adjust to you in the darkness of the room. It must have resided in an area between fear and sadness.

You fought the unruly emotions that threatened to take control over your body as you clenched your fist.

Fuck him. He doesn’t get to be sad.

“What?? Were you expecting someone else!?” you spat as you roughly kicked one of his nearby feet, “You probably were expecting more company, you whore,”

No response.

You dug your nails deep into the palm of your hands as if it would somehow release the excruciating pressure that you were feeling.

The woman’s meek voice suddenly broke the extreme silence you all shared, “I-I’m gonna g—”

“GO!” you angrily whipped yourself around to her before grabbing the nearest item that you could, “You dumb bitch! You’re lucky I don’t fuck you up too!” You threw the item as you cursed, not even bothering to know what it was.

It barely missed the naked girl and loudly shattered against one of your walls as she scurried towards the door. You went to reach for another object from your grandmothers’ dresser, promising that you wouldn’t miss this time, but you froze as you found yourself in the mirror connected to the dresser.

You hadn’t realized in your rage that you were crying until you saw your tear-soaked face in the dark reflection. You tried so hard to keep yourself together. You prided yourself on being level-headed in stressful situations, but you were far from level-headed. You were conceited to ever even try to take on that persona.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, you could only lament about how pathetic you looked—how pathetic you were.

“I…I’m such an idiot!” you painfully gripped at your hair as you fell into your knees in front of the man you loved. Heavy sobs tore themselves free of your burning throat. You heaved yourself forward into your lap in a failed attempted to catch them, but it was too late.

“I don’t… know what to say.” Bakugou finally spoke up, his face completely flipped upside down from its usual tenseness.

Of course.

Out of all of the times you wanted this loud-mouthed jerk to shut up, now is when he is at a loss for words.

You couldn’t help the small laugh that fell from your lips.

“I don’t see what’s so fucking funny?” he angrily retorted, as he stumbled to make his way up. You were suddenly met with his member being swung at your eye level as you stayed crouched onto the ground. That’s when you noticed–

He didn’t even have a condom on.

He made you get tested for STDs and pregnancy before he even had sex with you with a condom.

“I don’t know where that thing has been,” He had said then. It wouldn’t be until months later when you had started birth control when he had finally decided to risk sex without latex protection. The memory jolted an unexpected emotion from you as your chest bobbed from an oncoming laugh.

“G-get out.” You laughed again, tears still steadily falling from your face. You probably looked absolutely psychotic right now, but it was like all of the emotions that you had been stifling all these years had resurfaced with a vengeance. You struggled to drag yourself to stand so that you wouldn’t have to look at his still wet dick.

You continued to laugh and cry as Bakugou stared at you, his expression becoming disgruntled from the disturbing sight,

“What the fuck is wrong wi—”

“Get. OUT!!” you angrily interrupted him as you roared into his face. He blinked spastically in response as the shock of the altercation finally began to sink into his decelerated mind.

‘F-fuck,’

His heart sank, ‘What did I just do?’ He racked his brain as he tried to remember all of the events that had taken place to lead him to this moment, but the world seemed to be spinning ferociously, shaking up and mixing the timeline of the night.

He was plucked from his thoughts as he caught a glimpse of your face in the darkness of the room.

Why were you looking at him like you hated his existence—like if you could disintegrate his body with your eyes, you would. For the first time in years, Bakugou felt hot tears tingle against the back of his eyes, “Y/N, I…” his voice became stuck in his chest as his heart gave sudden jolt, “I’m so s–”

His chest became tight as you whipped away from him and silently threw a pointed finger towards the door.

He stumbled back a few feet as if you had just thrown a physical attack his way.

After a few moments of watching you hold the same position, he noticed you had started to cry again as your rocking shoulders lurched forward.

His face fell even further into the expression of despair before he froze. He could fix this if you would just let him, dammit!

He growled in annoyance at your ignoring him before he finally thawed his body, “FINE!” he yelled at you before smacking your pointed hand out to the way so that he could stagger out of the room. He loudly slammed the door shut, leaving you alone with your deafening thoughts.

You immediately dropped back to the ground before you curled yourself up into a ball and released painful sobs.

You had absolutely no fear that he would catch you in this state. His pride would never allow him to come back after storming out like that.

However on the other side of the door, Bakugou had already turned back around. Instant guilt had created a cacophony of loud feelings in his mind. How could he have hurt you like that?

The thought caused his heart to thrum and his hands to flinch away from the door handle; however, he strengthened his resolve and firmly grasped the handle once more until suddenly–

“BAKU-BROOOOO!” Kirishima’s booming voice could be heard moments before the front door was slammed open and bounced against your living room wall, “Ya made it back alive, man! We were all worried about you after you disappeared…” he slurred as he fumbled over to his best friend like a toddler taking his first steps.

Bakugou couldn’t find it in himself to reply to the redhead as the latter threw himself at him with a hearty laugh. The laugh, however, came to an abrupt end as Kirishima stared blankly at Bakugous face, “Hey… wha’s wrong, best buddy? Holy hell, w-why are you crying?!” he loudly whispered. A loud rumble could be heard before Kirishima violently gagged, releasing the contents of his stomach.

#katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou imagine #bnha imagines #mha imagines #bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #mha fanfiction

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doomstypewriter · 3 years

Note

abt the last ask: u dont have to include it ofc (if u write it at all) but i thought id let u know that its based on the mental image i suddenly had of j climbing up to pats window, knocking on the shutters, pat pulling him in by his lapels and immediately kissing him (if you can even call it that with how hard theyre smiling) & then sometime later pat hearing like his dads footsteps coming toward his room as theyre making out so pat scrambles off his bf & shoves him in his closet (the irony)

Anon, finally, here you have it, but with a twist. This got completely out of hand, as per usual when I write anything. Since you were so nice (/li) to send me your request in two parts, I will actually break your prompt into two parts, otherwise, it’s never going to end. I hope you’re pleased by the first part, also, I am answering to this first because it matches the content of the first part.

Thank you so much for your lovely prompt! Hope you enjoy!

If anyone wants to be tagged for this let me know in a comment!

AO3

Chapter 2 >>

We call it an affair because it’s a forbidden romance

Summary: An encounter in the dark. The disdain of society. A forbidden romance. Royalty is involved and a title is at stake. Will an aspiring count, Patton Morandi and his rogue lover Janus overcome the barriers laid in front of them?

(We're in it for the drama)

---

“So long away and what I least expect is not you saving my life, but finding myself having missed your nonsense”.

“Is it nonsense when I make you smile like this?”

Word count: 3848

Pairings: Moceit, future Prinxiety.

TW: Homophobia, internalised homophobia, deadnaming a trans person, misogyny, mentions of religion, hopelessness, ideological things you would expect from the period (I'm not sure if there's anything else, but please tell me).

Chapter 1 of 2:

Balcony kiss

How the moonlight shone in its quiet dance with the nightly air. It was a mostly clear summer evening, the second day of the week-long festival. The sounds of music and colourful lights could be heard and seen from the distance, but gradually decreased as a certain thief made its way across the gardens of Villa Morandi. For certain, the head of the family would not be excessively happy about the entire ordeal, but no disgruntlement could come out of those things of which one has no knowledge of, and Janus surely intended to keep his entanglement a secret.

He crossed the bushes and jumped over marble balustrades expertly, careful to avoid the lights of the servant quarters, where their residents were reading themselves for departure.

“Signor Morandi seems to be in good spirits lately, it is fortunate that most of us can leave for the festival”.

Any news about the man was something worth listening to, given his situation, so he decided to stay and see if they mentioned something useful. Also, he, admittedly, enjoyed gossip.

“Loretta! Don’t be such a bragger in front of us!”

“Why? I’d say the only one lamenting not being able to go is you. You should be ashamed for dragging poor Virginia in with you to make yourself sound less self-centred”.

Janus silently nodded.

“That is not true! I am merely trying to make the newcomer feel welcome! And here you are making her feel excluded, who is now in the wrong?”

Weak retort, wannabe-partygoer, he thought.

“Va, va…” the other maid answered dismissively “Quit holding her like that! Don’t you see she’s uncomfortable?! Povera bambina”.

“Come on Virginia, don’t you think it’s a waste for such a wrinkly woman to be let out instead of us?”

“Who are you calling old?!”

“You did, but now that you so kindly brought it up, you are old! Turning wrinklier by the second!”

Alright, at this point, Janus could not help but be rooting for Loretta, going for the old card was the low-hanging fruit.

“I may be your senior, but I promise you that regardless of that nonsense about wrinkles you’re babbling I’m ten times more fair looking!”

“Ah!” she exclaimed with feigned indignation. “Can you believe her? She’s delusional!”

“Well then, the delusional one will not search for a man at the festival, such a pity I will not be introducing anyone to you this week!”

He smiled at the comeback. Way to go, Loretta.

“Loretta! Just because you had the luck to get engaged doesn’t give you the right to rob others of their chances. Don’t be so mean, I’ll apologise if I must”.

“Alright, but never dare call me wrinkly again, for you will owe this old woman when I find you a husband. Virginia, I can help you too if you want it, I know plenty of young lads who would love to…”

“Oh, no, I’m not really interested”.

At this point Janus had quenched his thirst for amusement and begun to lose his interest, having more pressing matters to attend to. But, one new comment made him reconsider the usefulness of his eavesdropping for longer on the ladies’ conversation.

“That’s right, Loretta, don’t you see she’s here on official duty. To suggest for her to slack off with men… ts, ts… “

“Oh, you shut up! Don’t fret, Virginia, dear, I should have remembered you were sent for an urgent matter”.

“True, true! Tell us if you can, is it as they say? Was her ladyship done in by pirates?”

“Elda! Such crude language, you dare call yourself a lady, how can you say something so insensitive?”

“What? You want to know as badly as I do, besides, if it is true, then there is no changing it, and if it’s not then it’s fine, as her ladyship is still alive”.

“I’m so sorry, Virginia, just ignore her”.

“Don’t worry. As far as I’m willing to say, her ladyship still lives but I cannot disclose any further information”.

Oh.

No.

When one spies on others, bad news exists as a possibility, but, usually, in the form of getting caught. This happened to be worse. Being spotted? That he could deal with. Having his heart ripped out after one stellar month? Not so much.

He ran.

Not from his problems. More or less towards them.

The marble balcony seemed as unreachable as ever. A sense of dread loomed over his thoughts, while a mix of feelings, now turned into urgency, settled in his heart.

Raising a hand Janus willed his trustworthy companion to fall from the nightly skies. Meanwhile, he began to climb the walls of the manor. There was an undeserved elegance in his motions, not becoming of such an honourless goal, and, nevertheless, fitting for a thief like him.

The hawk swept inside the room from a window and cast the doors to the balcony open.

Janus promptly grabbed onto the bass of the marble balustrade. One month ago he had received news of something that would simplify his life. He knew he should not care, it was going to end poorly no matter what. But, rereading two months worth of love letters and hoping for an uncertain future, he could not help but feel happy. That made his resolve to return in time for the festival.

From the room came a sound of rushing footsteps.

Three months of yearning to see a face again.

That image made Janus more desperate, and, in his haste, he committed one fatal mistake. His grip on the marble slipped. At a thirty feet height, the ground beckoned him.

But, just when his doom seemed so certain, he was caught by the front of his cape and safely gathered against a pair of lips.

With such smiles stretching their faces, it could barely be called a kiss. But, the intensity of the affections behind it rendered the notion meaningless.

“My love”, Janus muttered as they parted ever so slightly.

“You scared me, silly. I miss you for three months and when you’re returned to me I almost lose you for good”.

“Let’s be happy you were there to catch me”.

“Thank the Lord, and if He wills it, I will always be”.

“I ought to be grateful to you, my dear, not the ones above” he answered while stepping to the safe side of the balcony.

“Well, our poor feathery friend can’t be too happy about that” Patton laughed dismissively, gazing at Janus’ hawk.

“You’re right. I neglect to show my gratitude, perhaps you could give me somewhere to start?”

“Oh, but how can I hand you my room, my sweet, the stones of the house are too heavy!”

“So long away and what I least expect is not you saving my life, but finding myself having missed your nonsense”.

“Is it nonsense when I make you smile like this?”

Janus laughed in delight.

“Let me make you smile in turn, then”, he said, whilst extending his hand.

The touch of Patton’s palm felt like a warm pressure through the barrier of his leather gloves. Perhaps all of his interactions were as imperfect as their naked hands not being able to meet. Janus’ fake gallantry, their hopes, may be short-lived in the face of change. But, for now, he would rather enjoy pretending.

He pulled Patton to the inside of the alcove.

“Are you refined now?” Patton laughed.

“Of course, I have always been. Whatever could lead you to ask such a question? If I were to be a thief, which I am not, I would be the most honourable”.

There was a certain amount of delight to be found in catching his lover in the midst of changing into his night robes, judging by those being laid out onto the bed’s ostentatious covers. Despite such a degree of luxury surrounding Patton, he still refused to task any servant to dress him. What was there not to love about the man?

Patton made a motion as if to hold his hands, only to surprise him by pulling his gloves off. Any other person, and it would have been a display of sensuality, coming from him, it was like movement turned into honey, perhaps a mixture of both. Indeed, there was everything to love about him.

Maybe not all. Janus dreaded to admit how deep in he had allowed himself to be for this man.

A fool for a good man.

His hands felt the light night coldness in their grip on the linen shirt. Janus almost wanted to chastise himself as the thought of kissing away the kiss of the midnight breeze came to mind. He hid in the curve of Patton’s neck, sliding his lips along it, feeling like a coward whispering a lie. Countless lies. Telling himself this was enough, that he could bear the thought of this man taken away from him by a woman, that the thrill in this forbidden form of vice was not his worry taking yet another disguise.

“Oh, you’re a thief alright”.

“Is there something of yours I happen to have taken?” Janus retorted with a vague tone of amusement.

Patton cradled his left cheek in a firm request to see his face. Who was Janus to deny him?

“You know all too well you have”.

Oh.

“Well, that would make two of us”.

Patton’s expression melted into more honey. It always made Janus unsure as to whether he had made a mistake, no matter how unfounded the doubt was.

“Thank you�� the words rebounded in proximity against the other’s lips. Janus didn’t know Patton could also be cruel.

“A little sincerity never hurt anyone”.

“You are not anyone” he smiled softly.

“Then make the pain up to me”.

Both their lips made contact like a wax seal on a letter. Janus pushed Patton against a low piece of furniture. From how the other fumbled, he could tell a corner was pressing against him. Despite the sting, Patton still committed himself to their affections. If that wasn’t a metaphor for their relationship Janus didn’t know what it was. Janus knew Patton would disagree, of course.

It seemed that exchanging one piece of furniture for another, the bed, would not be possible. Someone was knocking on the door.

“Janus…” Patton panicked in a hushed voice.

“Not a problem, my dear, this is my speciality” he smiled at him.

Janus’ feet almost flew over the carpet, muffled by the Persian fibres and his expertise on avoiding the parts of the floor that creaked. He turned the key of Patton’s wardrobe without the distinctive noise most people couldn’t avoid. Luckily for them, he wasn’t most people. The door mysteriously closed itself from the inside. Janus could swear to hear Patton draw a breath in wonder as to how he had done it.

“My son, let me in!” a voice came from the corridor.

“On my way, father”.

The mule-like bray of the alcove’s door hinges Janus detested preceded the sound of a set of footsteps he knew and loathed just as well, if not more.

“Were you reading yourself for bed? Ah, do not answer, I can already see your night robes over there. How many times need I tell you, call the servants to dress you, it is unbecoming that you do not. Moreso with the status you are to acquire”.

Janus almost scoffed upon hearing it.

It wasn’t that Janus outright looked down on Signor Morandi. He certainly held an admirable reputation and an even more admirable wealth. He contributed to the church, upheld his honour, was a patron to a few talented artists and did everything expected from someone of his status. By societal definition, he was an outstanding man. But, he could never understand Patton. Yes, Patton’s behaviour in public also stood to scrutiny. He was a young man to be admired, for sure. Yet, it somehow mismatched any other person’s strive for reputability. Patton lacked this performative quality, eagerness, if you will, that he found time and time again in people.

At first, Janus struggled to comprehend it. Everyone had desires outside of the strictly polite, they either pretended they didn’t or tried to hide it, that’s why they paid the church, after all. Janus didn’t believe people made an effort to actively align with the global canon for morality, just to look like it or deceive themselves. This theory on society made it so when he met Patton he simply dismissed him as a try-hard, later to relabel him as self-deceiving. Maybe he was a victim of his own biased cynicism.

As they grew closer, he started to get the whole picture. To his surprise, Patton tried to get his desires to align with what he perceived as morally correct, sometimes failing miserably. Janus’ presence in his room didn’t qualify as a success by society’s criteria... Patton’s effort to be ‘good’ did not come from a place of wishing to be perceived as such. Patton didn’t want to look good, he needed to be good. A good man. The realisation was hard to process but true.

Once he understood that, Janus could not let go. It stands to reason that, if that kind of person were to earn his affection, someone like his father would awaken his spite. Signor Morandi had simply never made an effort to understand his son’s motivations, unlike Janus. If he was a cynic, Patton was a victim to his own good intentions.

“I do not understand”.

“Lady Renata Regio is alive”.

“Oh”.

“Yes, it is most fortunate, you will no longer have to stay inside and miss the festival”.

“Well, father, I am not sure if that is appropriate, her ladyship must be feeling poorly after such a horrid experience. Perhaps it is best if I stay in and promptly send a letter to help soothe her”.

“Patton, it honours you to be willing to put the weak’s suffering before yours, but it is not needed in this case. You do not have to concern yourself with her. I am afraid that she is safe and sound on the account of having planned her own kidnapping. Lady Renata Regio has joined the pirates bringing disgrace upon her family, the wretched woman”.

Yes! Janus thought. Neither the wardrobe nor the entire room could contain his joy at hearing it.

“That is most unfortunate, should I reassure her family that I do not hold any resentment towards them?”

“It would be no good, there is going to be a scandal!” Signor Morandi sounded too happy.

Janus could not help but to smile a little.

“Are we going to pursue any retaliation?” Janus almost saw Patton shudder in the tone he used. “I do not think it necessary, it is a matter of marriage, although important, there are many other options that--”

“Yes, there are many other women to pursue, that is the spirit! In said spirits, I must inform you of the most wonderful news I have just received”.

What?

“Today a trusted servant from the Regio estate arrived at our home”.

“Yes, Virginia Fusco”, of course, Patton knew her name. “I personally received her, she refused to tell me exactly why she was sent here, also insisted to wait to talk to you”.

“Precisely, well, it turns out she is the personal servant of Lady Romina Regio”.

“The eldest of the twin daughters of the Regio?”

“Indeed. Let me be frank with you son, the Regio know they cannot keep the true actions of their lesser daughter hidden forever, a rumour is meant to surface eventually. This is very unfortunate for them, I have heard they were planning to match Lady Romina with a higher member of the nobility. Her sister’s actions have ruined her chances, it is unlikely that whoever was to marry her will accept such a union. My son, you know I always have your best interests in mind, Lady Renata Regio was a fine choice to provide you with connections to nobility. In turn, her family would have got access to our wealth, which, after their losses in the war, they need”.

Oh no.

“This being the circumstances, they have to choose how to align themselves in the future and what would be more advantageous to the family”.

“Shit” Janus said under his breath.

“We are about to reach an agreement for a marriage between Lady Romina Regio and you. I need you to understand that, if you are to accept, you will have to face some troubles, at least initially. The rumours about Lady Renata’s motivations may taint your reputation for a short while and the Regio’s rush to marry off Lady Romina will raise more rumours”.

“What choice would please you the most?”

“Oh, Patton, you idiot”.

“The union could make your child a count, you could potentially obtain a title depending on how we negotiate with the family. It is my wish that you accept this marriage”.

“Will this bring honour to our family?”

“Certainly”.

“Then…” an air of doubt went through Patton’s voice.

Janus was debating whether or not to burst out of the closet, either to tell him to refuse or to scold him for not accepting immediately what was probably the best opportunity of his life.

“Of course I will accept”.

“You make me very happy and proud, my son. I will meet with the servant girl to send her back with a letter requesting to meet with Lord Regio”.

The words were spoken carelessly. Signor Morandi often did that around his son, not knowing how many times he had been overheard by him. He may be a great man by society’s standards, but he could never be a good man.

Janus slumped against the back of the wardrobe, surrounded by pieces of clothing he could never afford. There was a world in which Patton had refused. But Patton hadn’t been left a real choice, so he could find some comfort in knowing this thing between the two had to end due to him being backed into a corner. Better than having Patton’s morals come between them. That, he would never reconcile with.

This was better than before. Being cast away for something as mundane as marriage, no matter the useful connections involved, was one thing, being left for a countess, well, if that’s what it took to refuse him he wouldn’t complain too much.

He would have preferred a marchioness or a duchess.

He would have preferred to be the only thing standing in between Patton and kingship and still win.

He would definitely prefer it if Signor Morandi was to accidentally fall down a flight of stairs on his way to writing his pesky letter.

There was nothing like a fire to persuade someone, even a countess…

But Patton would be upset.

His hawk screeched from the roofs above. Then footsteps rushed to his side, followed by candlelight flooding the inside of the closet.

Patton had no right to look so humble yet so marvellous. Not even the warmth of the flame could rival with that of his gaze. A gaze that was his’, not of any countess. But, still, a gaze that deserved to become a count.

“Janus…”

Honey clogging up his ears, that was the shape of a whisper.

“I suppose”, he shook off the dust of his cape and held his head up with dignity, “this is when we part. I’d love to say it’s a pity, but we saw it coming. Guess it was nice to enjoy it while it lasted. I’m always a letter away, my dear, that countess of yours wouldn’t ever find out”.

This was the bitter taste of selflessness. He never understood how Patton enjoyed it.

Janus turned around, ready to make his merry way out of Villa Morandi or fall off the balcony properly this time. Suddenly, Patton’s armed chained the two of them to their spot in the room. Patton’s chest heaved pitifully in a mockery of a hiccup.

“I’m sorry. What was I supposed to do? There was no other choice. I didn’t wish to upset you. Please--”

“What do you think you’re doing?”

He promptly let him go.

“I…”

Janus turned back to face him.

“You think crying will make this easier? Do you seriously think I enjoy this? I would gladly rob you of everything and have you entirely to myself. It is taking so much self-restraint to not get your father into a tragic accident, my dear. If anything, you’re making it worse by crying. I am doing this for you. Don’t you dare ruin the one honourable thing I will do in my life”.

“How can I pretend to be happy when you’re leaving?”

There were sparks of light encased in his tears. Something about their ironic beauty left him even more heart-broken.

“What am I going to do, then? I can be selfish to an extent, but I cannot take the rest of your life too. You’re being offered a title and a wife, all the things someone at your level could wish for. Don’t be more of an imbecile, keep it. It is already inappropriate for you to be seen with the likes of me, and it’s even worse with me being a man”.

“You’ve never cared about that”.

“But you do! Let resume, dear”, he tried to say in his most condescending voice. It didn’t sound even remotely like it. “You go to church each Sunday, you have five bibles just in this room and the most sincere good-samaritan complex I have ever seen. I know you can’t bear to live in sin”.

“I can’t bear to live without you either!”

Oh, Patton, you fool, silly, ridiculous man…

“What…” he felt as if he was going crazy.

A chuckle escaped through the spaces in between his teeth. Janus looked downwards and whispered.

“What are you saying?”

This self-consciousness, he had never felt anything like it before. Was he blushing?

“I love you… I know it’s wrong, so why doesn’t it feel like it?”

More honey. What a way for his plan to backfire.

“This is ridiculous, you should be concerning yourself with more important--”

Patton placed the back of his hand under his jaw to raise his head with such gentleness... stupid.

“Is it ridiculous when it’s making you cry like this?”

A compassionate man’s tears were not worth his. He had never been as sure as now that this was a mistake. Yet he longed for him more than ever.

“Of course not” he wiped away his tears feigning some kind of dignity.

As quickly as ever, he also pretended to regain his composure.

“Do you have any sort of plan for what you’re going to do next? Under pressure, you’re a terrible improviser, my love”.

“Well...I can’t let you go. I know as much. I should, for my family, father, my honour. But I will not. You’ve shown me that acting selfishly doesn’t make someone evil. I will find a way to fulfil my duty without giving you up, you have my word”.

26 notes · View notes

dustedmagazine · 3 years

Text

Dust Volume 7, Number 5

Sarah Louise

A week or two before this Dust’s deadline, we got our first tour announcement by email in more than a year. It was the first of deluge, as live music looks to be coming back with a vengeance starting this summer and really picking up steam around September. Meanwhile, we celebrate our newly vaxxed (or for our Canadian correspondents half-vaxxed) status with tentative steps outside. Your editor had her first beer at a brew pub in mid-May, and it was stupendous. Also stupendous, the onslaught of new music, which has, if anything, accelerated. This month, contributors include all the regulars plus a few new people: Jennifer Kelly, Bill Meyer, Patrick Masterson, Ray Garraty, Tim Clarke, Andrew Forell, Ian Mathers, Bryon Hayes, Jonathan Shaw and Chris Liberato. Happy spring, happy normal and happy listening!

Amulets — Blooming (The Flenser)

Blooming by AMULETS

Like a lot of us, Portland-based noise artist Randall Taylor discovered the solace of long walks during the pandemic. His work, which has always used tape degradation to explore the intersection of time, loss and technology, shifted to incorporate another source of decay: the natural world. So, in opening salvo, “Blooming,” alongside blistering onslaughts of eroded guitar sound, it is possible to hear the sounds of a fertile garden — birds, insects, air movement. You can nearly smell the flowers and feel the sunshine on your skin. “The New Normal” explores sounds of creaking, friction-y word and metal, alongside pristine chimes of synthetic tone. It is uneasy, with skittering string-like squeaks and swoops, but also deeply meditative; it shifts from moment to moment from anxiety to provisional acceptance, much as we all did last year, staring out our windows. Overall, the tone is elegiac, gorgeous, but Randall does not hesitate to introduce dissonance. “Heaviest Weight” thunders with frayed bass tones, a weight and a threat in their subliminal pulse. The contrast between that ominous sound and purer, clearer layers of melody, makes for unsettling listening—are we at war or peace, happy or sad, agitated or calm? And yet, perhaps that’s the point, that the past year has been swirl of feelings, boredom alongside anxiety, hope lighting the corners of our listlessness, the smell of flowers pleasing but faintly reminiscent of funerals. Blooming decocts this mix into sound.

Jennifer Kelly

Astute Palate — S-T (Petty Bunco)

Astute Palate by Astute Palate

Astute Palate is a hastily assembled group of rockers summoned to support David Nance in Philly on a date when he couldn’t bring the David Nance Band. Participants included Richie Records proprietor Richie Charles, Lantern’s Emily Robb, Writhing Squares/Purling Hiss/all around Philadelphia regular Daniel Provenzano on bass and, of course, Nance himself, all huddled together in Robb’s recording studio for a weekend together. None of this origin story does justice, however, to the pure liquid fire of this one-off musical collaboration, dominated by Nance’s viscous, distorted blues-inflected guitar wail, but knocked sideways by brute force drumming, wild hypnotic bass lines and the ritual incantation of Nance (and later Robb) singing. The long “Stall Out” does anything but, rampaging free-range in unbridled Crazy Horse/Allmans-style abandon for close to ten minutes without a single sputter. “A Little Proof” is somehow simultaneously heavier and more country, spinning out the soul-blues jams like a younger, unrulier cousin to MC5. “Treadin’ Schuylkill” gives Provenzano the spotlight, opening with a growling bass solo soon joined by heavy psych guitars (a nod, perhaps, to the illustrious locals in Bardo Pond). If Nance et. al. can pull stuff this fine out in a stray road warrior weekend, what are the rest of you doing with your lives?

Jennifer Kelly

Axis: Sova — Fractal (God?)

Fractal - EP by Axis: Sova

Axis: Sova is a combo of three Chicago guys plus one drum machine, which had already been inactive for two or three seasons before the initial COVID lockdown. This digital EP is their way of clearing up some business that could no longer remain undone. The title tune, “Fractal USA,” is a remake of a song from the early days, when the “band” was Brett Sova’s solo project, to full-on, no your pants aren’t tight enough rock band. They just needed you to know about the evolution, you see, so go ahead, do some scissor kicks and gurn while they windmill away; you have enough money saved up from not seeing live music to pay the inevitable chiropractor bill. “Caramel” hypothesizes that a Cluster song that’s played twice as loud and twice as long is twice as good; not sure if I agree, but it’s still not bad at all. Maybe you got a little weird after a few months of putting on your best mask for your daily trip to see if the stimulus check was in the mailbox? The Brenda Ray-meets-Old Black mash up, “(Don’t Wanna Have That) Dream,” is proof that while you were alone, you weren’t alone. If you’ve made it this far, you don’t need to have the fourth track described, so let’s just say that it’s longer.

Bill Meyer

Mattie Barbier — Three Spaces (self-released)

three spaces by mattie barbier

While perhaps best known as half of the trombone-centric new music duo RAGE Thormbones, Mattie Barbier is a member of several other combos and a sonic researcher under their own name. Three Spaces, which is a single, album-length sound file, has the air of experimentation about it. “What do I do,” one can imagine Barbier asking themself, “when I can’t play with other people?” Make music at home, and out of what’s at home, is the obvious answer. But doing isn’t the only point here; the outcome also matters, and while what Barbier has accomplished with Three Spaces sounds quite different from the RAGE Thormbones live experience, it registers quite strongly. Barbier has combined long tones and melodic fragments played on euphonium, trombone and reed organ, that were recorded both inside and outside of their home. Carefully layered, the source material combines into a sound rather like a bell’s toll, which over the course of nearly 39 minutes swells and recedes, but never quite decays; it ends with an imposed rather than natural fade-out. The sound is as deep as it is expansive, inviting the listener to let themselves fall ever father into its realm.

Bill Meyer

Beneath — On Tilt EP (Hemlock Recordings)

On Tilt EP by Beneath

One of the more pleasant surprises this year is the resuscitation of Untold’s Hemlock Recordings imprint. A vital voice in the post-dubstep fracas at the turn of the ‘10s thanks to releases from Hessle Audio’s Pearson Sound (when he was still Ramadanman) and Pangaea, James Blake, FaltyDL and Hodge to name but a handful, the label went dormant following a Ploy 12” in 2017 before the surprise announcement of Londoner Beneath’s On Tilt, which sounds every bit the sensible alliance in practice it looks on paper: These are low-end rumblers with irregular rhythms and spare melodic tics that worm their way into your brain in the best bone-humming fashion (see “Shambling” or “Lesser Circulation” for a good example). Who knows how long the return will last, but for a certain stripe of DMZ-damaged devotee and pretty much no one else, it’ll feel good to have some Hemlock in your life again. Tilt back, pour in.

Patrick Masterson

Black Spirit— El Sueño De La Razón Produce Monstruos (Infinite Night Records)

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More metal comes from South America than Spain, but these Europeans clear the high bar set by Latin America scenesters. The album’s title states that it was inspired by “El Sueño De La Razón Produce Monstruos.” That can testify both to lasting influence of Goya’s art and to the laziness of the current culture which seeks inspiration only from the most popular pictorial art of the past. The track “Ignorance and The Grotesque” perfectly captures the whole mood of the disc: it balances ignorant speeds, undecipherable vocals and grotesque parts with piano interludes and doom-ish atmosphere. It would be better without the grotesque, but that’s probably part of the baggage.

Ray Garraty

Burial + Blackdown — Shock Power of Love EP (Keysound Recordings)

Shock Power of Love EP by Burial

You might worry, occasionally, that Burial was becoming a victim of diminishing returns. Here, as ever, he uses a narrow palette to create tracks that few can emulate. However, even though the music has its rewards, it doesn’t clear the very high bar that his previous work has set. Thus “Dark Gethsemane” rides a 4/4 beat, angelic murmurs, vinyl crackle and a tightly ratcheted build that morphs into a sermon led by the repeated invocation “We must shock this nation with the power of love.” As his vocal samples become more explicit, the mystery of his music fades. This is all promise and no real resolution. “Space Cadet’ likewise sounds both gorgeous and minor with its soul gospel refrain “Take Me Higher” over an old-school jungle beat. At six plus minutes it would have been enough. It continues another three with an almost cartoonish second movement that lacks the subtlety that characterizes Burial’s best work.

Andrew Forell

Colleen — The Tunnel and the Clearing (Thrill Jockey)

The Tunnel and the Clearing by Colleen

While COVID messed with most people’s lives, it was both an endgame and an opportunity for Cécile Schott, the Frenchwoman who records under the name Colleen. She was just coming out of a series of health and personal dislocations, which resulted in her being newly healthy but alone in a new town just as the lockdown came down. Clearly, this was not a time for half measures, so she selected an entirely new instrumental set-up and settled in to make a record that reflected what she’d been through. Out went the viola da gamba and melodica that have figured prominently on her last few albums; in came a Moog synthesizer, a Yamaha organ, a tape echo and a drum machine.

Colleen’s voice, of course, remains the same. Airy and precise, her delivery doesn’t match the gravity of the experiences her songs describe. But that sense of remove is, perhaps, a reflection of one of adversity’s lessons; if you don’t stay stuck, you can wind up somewhere quite different. Between the keyboards’ cycling melodies and the drum machine’s fizzy beats, the music on The Tunnel and the Clearing imparts a sense of motion that carries her light voice along for the ride, dropping painful sentiments and letting them fall behind.

Bill Meyer

Current Joys — Voyager (Secretly Canadian)

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Nick Rattigan has been releasing music under the name Current Joys since 2013, and Voyager is his latest offering. It’s a dramatic and often brilliant collection of songs, bringing to mind the urgent rhythmic drive of Spoon, the dour grandeur of The Cure and the unapologetic emotional heft of Bright Eyes or early Arcade Fire. On Voyager’s standout, “American Honey,” a simple strummed backing and Rattigan’s vocal delivery are potent enough, but it’s the string section that proves devastating, cycling around for multiple punches to the gut. While more stripped-back songs such as “Big Star” and “The Spirit or the Curse” offer some respite along the way, Voyager does prove a little unwieldy. With 16 tracks clocking in at nearly an hour, the album’s execution doesn’t quite live up to its ambition. The wonky tom-tom rhythms of “Breaking the Waves” are more distracting than interesting; a serviceable cover of Rowland S. Howard’s “Shivers” feels more like an acknowledgment of influence than a striking interpretation; and the combined six minutes of the two-part instrumental title track may have worked better as shorter interludes. Nevertheless, plenty of Voyager’s tracks demonstrate Rattigan’s knack for a raw, emotive indie-rock tune.

Tim Clarke

Ducks Ltd — Get Bleak EP (Carpark Records)

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Toronto duo Ducks Ltd celebrates signing to Carpark with an expanded re-release of their 2018 debut EP Get Bleak. The pair — Tom Mcgreevy on vocals, rhythm and bass guitars and Evan Lewis on lead guitar — bonded over a shared love of 1980s indie bands. Their intricately constructed guitar interplay carries the DNA of Postcard and C86 over meaty bass lines that evoke Mighty Mighty as much as Orange Juice and McCarthy. The sprightly music belies the miserablism of the lyrics that focus on FOMO, poor decisions, screen induced isolation, the corrosive impact of gentrification and gig economies. Mcgreevy and Lewis don’t wallow, however. Their jaunty jangle is a paean to the joys of jumping about and singing along with those new favorite songs that suddenly mean everything and will stick with you long after the world’s shit slopes your shoulders.

Andrew Forell

Field Music — Flat White Moon (Memphis Industries)

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It’s easy to take Field Music for granted. Since 2005, the Brewis brothers have been making smartly composed and tightly executed guitar pop with obvious debts to The Beatles and XTC, and all their albums have fallen somewhere along the continuum from good to great (my personal favorites are 2010’s Measure and 2012’s Plumb). Album number eight, Flat White Moon, features the usual balance between Peter’s more pensive, bittersweet numbers with greater focus on piano and strings, such as “Orion From the Street” and “When You Last Heard From Linda,” and David’s funkier, more staccato cuts, such as “No Pressure” and “I’m the One Who Wants to Be With You.” Twelve songs, 40 minutes, tunes for days — what’s not to love? If you’ve yet to get acquainted with Field Music, Flat White Moon is as good an introduction as any.

Tim Clarke

Gabby Fluke-Mogul/Jacob Felix Heule/Kanoko Nishi-Smith — Non-Dweller (Humbler)

non-dweller by gabby fluke-mogul, Jacob Felix Heule, & Kanoko Nishi-Smith

With Non-Dweller, we have a trio of Bay-Area improvisers who certainly do not reside in one place for very long. There is an agitated freneticism about their interactions here, the performers acting like electrons seeking to release energy and break out of orbit. Each player brings a unique collection of timbres to the party with their implement of choice. Heule is a percussionist by trade yet focuses on extended techniques — mainly friction-based — as he wrests an unholy wail from the maw of his bass drum. Fluke-Mogul’s violin sways between tone generator and noise source. Nishi-Smith is a classically trained pianist who here is bowing and plucking the koto, or Japanese zither. The trio spend most of their time in sparring mode, their energies unleashed with synchrony as if in an elaborate dance. It is clear they have collaborated before. Heule and Nishi-Smith have been at it for over a decade; Fluke-Mogul joined the party in 2019. The most gorgeous moments happen when all three players are focused on friction: Heule slides across his drum, Fluke-Mogul soars with their violin and Nishi-Smith gracefully bows her koto. The energy is focused and particles collide, creating waves of tone. The players wrestle intensity into submission, and the ensuing sonorities are unmissable.

Bryon Hayes

FMB DZ — War Zone (Fast Money Boyz \ EMPIRE)

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Ever since FMB DZ got shot and moved out of Detroit, he has continued to release angry music. (He may not be more productive after the assault, but he’s certainly not less so.) War Zone is his latest effort, along with The Gift 3 and Ape Season, and DZ is back in his paranoiac mode and ready for vengeance. That’s hardly unusual in this type of music but DZ stands out because he’s a bit angrier, a bit more pressing and a bit more gifted than the next man. He doesn’t outdo himself in this tape, but rather mostly follows the blueprint of Ape Season. The standout track is “Spin Again.”

Ray Garraty

Ian M Fraser — Berserk (Superpang)

Berserk by Ian M Fraser

Ian M Fraser is kind enough to provide details about how he created and edited Berserk, although relatively few listeners are going to really know what “nonlinear feedback systems and waveset synthesis” are, let alone “sensormonitor primitives auditory perception software”. And fewer still will be able to focus on what that might mean while Berserk is actually playing, because the output of those programs and systems is immediately, viscerally clear. If a computer were actually capable of going rabid, feral, well, berserk, the human mind might imagine it sounds something like this. Over four shorter tracks and the relatively epic 8:26 of “The Cannibal,” Fraser either coaxes or allows (or both) his tools into the equivalent of something like what someone who knew very little about both genres might imagine is like a power electronics act playing free jazz or vice versa. It is absolutely viscerally thrilling (albeit probably easier to repeat at this length of 16 minutes than, say, 50) and will do the track the next time you feel like your brain needs a good hard scrub.

Ian Mathers

Human Failure — Crown on the Head of a King of Mud (Sentient Ruin Laboratories)

Crown on the Head of a King of Mud by Human Failure

It’s tough to figure out if the band’s name is meant specifically to apply to D. Cornejo (sole member of Human Failure) or to the general field of human failure, which grows ever more capacious. Whatever the intent, Human Failure makes thoroughly unlovable music, pitched somewhere on the continuum that runs from the primitivist death metal to stenchcore to harsh noise. This reviewer is especially fond (yep, somehow that’s the only word for it) of the title track of this 10” record: “Crown on the Head of a King of Mud” sloughs and slogs along for two minutes, sort of like one of the ripest zombies in Romero’s Day of the Dead (1985), wandering about and slowly falling to pieces in Florida’s tumid heat. Just as that last bit of flesh is poised to slide from bone, the song unexpectedly breaks into a run. Where is it going? What’s the rush? No one knows. Things eventually bottom out into “Disassembling Morality,” a static-and-distortion laden electronic interlude that might squeak and spark for a bit too long — but then “Your Hope Is a Noose” shambles into the frame. That zombie seems to have found some equally noisome and truculent friends. They djent and pogo around for a while, and the song has a lot more fun than seems called for by the band name. Cornejo might be pissed off by the myriad manmade disasters and outright catastrophes that burden the earthball (he’s sure angry as heck about something…). But the record ends up being sort of successful, if deafening, grinding, growling stench is on the agenda. All things considered, why wouldn’t it be?

Jonathan Shaw

Insub Meta Orchestra — Ten / Sync (Insub)

Ten / Sync by INSUB META ORCHESTRA

Ten / Sync was recorded in September, 2020; not exactly lockdown time, but certainly not out of the pandemic woods. It’s no small task to keep any 50-strong orchestra going, let alone one devoted to experimental music. So, if you already have one, then having it perform during a pandemic is just another challenge among many. So, the Swiss-based orchestra assembled three groups of musicians, numbering 31 in all, and assembled their contributions during post-production. While this did not provide the social experience that IMO’s gatherings usually impart to participants, an outcome that just isn’t the same seems awfully representative of the time, right? And since one Insub Meta Orchestra subspeciality is making music that sounds like it was performed by many fewer players than were actually present, this collection of sustained chords concealing tiny actions and apparently disassembled passages is actually very representative of the ensemble’s music.

Bill Meyer

Amirtha Kidambi & Matteo Liberatore — Neutral Love (Astral Editions)

Neutral Love by Amirtha Kidambi & Matteo Liberatore

With her own group, the Elder Ones, and in Mary Halvorson’s Code Girl, singer Amirtha Kidambi shows how far you can take a song while still giving the meanings of words and the boundaries of form their dues. But Neutral Love, like her two tapes with Lea Bertucci, explores the territory outside the tower of song. The main structures for this improvised encounter with electric guitarist Matteo Liberatore seem to be a shared agreement to exclude certain options. Song form and overt displays of chops are right out; the patient manipulation of sounds is where it’s at. Liberatore opts mostly for swelling and subsiding resonations, while Kidambi spends a lot of time finding out what’s hiding at the back of her throat, drawing it out, and then tying it into elaborate shapes. Patient and eerie, these four tracks find a place adjacent to Charalambides at their most abstract, and make it their own.

Bill Meyer

Kosmodemonic — Liminal Light (Transylvanian Recordings)

KOSMODEMONIC - LIMINAL LIGHT by KOSMODEMONIC

NYC outfit Kosmodemonic is among the recent wave of metal bands attempting to effect an organic-sounding synthesis of numerous subgenres: a slurry of sludge, a bit of black metal, a dose of doom, and a hit or two of the lysergic. When it works — as it does on a number of tracks on the band’s long new cassette Liminal Light — it’s an exciting sound. Songs like “Moirai” and “Broken Crown” manage to couple tuneful riffs, dirty tone and a muscular bottom end in ways that feel thumping, groovy and pretty weird. You’ll want to bump your butt around even as you’re looking for something to break. But the tape is pretty long, and the further afield Kosmodemonic gets from that mid-tempo groove, the more middling (and sometimes muddled) the material sounds. “With Majesty” can’t quite find its rhythmic footing in its more technical passages, and the song’s sludgier sections feel like compromises, rather than interesting maneuvers. But the record begins and finishes with really strong songs. Both “Drown in Drone” and “Unnaming Unlearning” embrace scale, letting their big riffs rip. When “Unnaming Unlearning” slips into complex sections of blackened and distorted dissonance, the drama surges. Formal experiment and manipulation of mood fold into each other. The song gets interesting, even as it’s reaching for a peak. And then it ends, suddenly, violently. It’s pretty good. Your impulse is to flip the tape and hear it again, which is just what Kosmodemonic wants you to do. Well played, dudes.

Jonathan Shaw

Sarah Louise — Earth Bow (Self-Released)

Earth Bow by Sarah Louise

Asheville-based songwriter Sarah Louise wants to be your personal nature interpreter. The titles of her recordings, from her debut Field Guide through Deeper Woods and Nighttime Birds and Morning Stars are like planetary signposts pointing to a more intimate relationship with our planet as a living organism. With each successive release, her music has also become more and more organic sounding, culminating with Earth Bow, in which Louise herself is arms deep in humus, communing with birds and insects. Recordings of creation feature prominently; katydids, spring peeper frogs, a creek and various birds are credited as providing additional singing, augmenting the artist’s own mellifluous voice. For a recording in which the track titles and lyrics are focused on nature and Louise’s experiences therein, there are a lot of digital elements. Her 12-string guitar is prominent in places, but synths are everywhere: in the background, bouncing around like shooting stars, and mimicking the various fauna that they accompany. Yet the earthly and the machine-made are not juxtaposed, they are blended. The vocals, which center the recordings, tie both elements together nicely. Earth Bow is a tasty concoction, in which a variety of ingredients are married in botanical bliss.

Bryon Hayes

Le Mav — “Supersonic (Feat. Tay Iwar)” (Immaculate Taste)

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Nigeria’s alté scene has been bubbling for a couple of years now on the backs of guys like Odunsi (The Engine) and Santi, and Gabriel Obi bka Le Mav is no stranger to the fray, having produced Santi’s “Sparky,” Aylø and a recurring favorite of his, singer Tay Iwar. The two have already collaborated at length (for songs off Iwar’s debut album Gemini in 2019, as well as the entirety of last year’s Gold EP), so the comfort level here is established. It shows: Iwar’s smooth-as vocals match Le Mav’s breezy piano descent and gentle rhythmic shuffle in an easygoing song that matches anything you might hear coming from Miguel, Frank Ocean or the Sun-El Musician orbit. “If it feels right, touch the sky,” Iwar suggests early on. Well, don’t mind if I do.

Patrick Masterson

Sugar Minott — “I Remember Mama” (Emotional Rescue)

I Remember Mama by Sugar Minott

At some point after Lincoln Barrington Minott had left Kingston and his early dancehall and lovers rock legacy with Studio One and Black Roots behind for cooler climates and the old world of London, he ran into producer Steve Parr at the Wackies offices. Story goes that the two decided to start up Sound Design Studio with the intent to record and mix for ads, film and music — but scant evidence of this idea exists beyond “I Remember Mama,” released on 7” and 12” in 1985 and reissued for the first time since via Stuart Leath and his long-trusted Emotional Rescue imprint. Parr does most of the work on the recording (Andy MacDonald shines on tenor sax and Paul Uden guitar in the original credits), but it’s all about the sweetness Sugar brings to the table: With backing from two accomplished performers in their own right, Janette Sewell and Shola Phillips, Minott’s naturally relaxed delivery shines through on this. “Sound Design” is a dubbier instrumental version that retains Sewell’s and Phillips’ vocals, and Dan Tyler (half of Idjut Boys) provides an even spacier, handclap-laden 11-minute remix, but while both variants are excellent, the boogie of the original is unassailable. Look for the vinyl to hit in July.

Patrick Masterson

Jessica Ackerley — Morning/mourning (Cacophonous Revival)

Morning/mourning by Jessica Ackerley

It makes sense that Wendy Eisenberg wrote the liner notes to Morning/mourning, since they and Jessica Ackerley are bound by a shared commitment to string-craft. Both have a deep idiomatic foundation in jazz guitar, but neither is willing to be confined by what they’ve learned. In the case of Morning/mourning, that means that patiently paced ruminations upon Derek Bailey-like harmonics sit side by side with frantic but rigorously scripted forays that sound a bit like Jim Hall might if he input the contents of his French press intravenously. This album’s nine tracks observe passings and new beginnings, since Ackerley pulled the recording together while in quarantine, shortly before leaving Manhattan for Honolulu, and titled some of them in tribute to a pair of guitar teachers who were taken by 2020. But in their attention to tone, harmony, velocity and structure, these pieces, like Eisenberg’s records, speak as much to intellect as to emotion.

Bill Meyer

Nadja & Disrotted — Split (Roman Numeral Records)

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It makes a certain kind of sense for Nadja and Disrotted to tackle a split together; although both bands traffic in a particularly foreboding strain of doom metal, they also share a weird sort of comfort. There’s a sense more of horrible things happening around you than to you, like you’re in the eye of the storm or maybe in a bathysphere plunged to crushing depths. There is a precision to the menace, a measured quality to the noise. And they get there when they get there; as Dusted’s Jonathan Shaw pointed out in his review of Disrotted’s Cryongenics, “Pace seems to be the point.” This excellent split doesn’t shy away from these commonalities while still highlighting the distinct timbres of each act, with Nadja settling into and then returning to one of their indelibly titanic bass riffs throughout the 19-minute “From the Lips of a Ghost in the Shadow of a Unicorn's Dream” and Disrotted somehow conjuring the feeling of a massive structure corroding and collapsing on the 15-minute “Pastures for the Benighted”. When the latter slams to a half, one last hit echoing away, the listener may find themselves feeling equally relieved the onslaught is over and kind of missing both sides’ pulverizing embrace.

Ian Mathers

Nasimiyu — POTIONS (Figureight)

P O T I O N S by nasimiYu

Nasimiyu’s songs bounce and shimmy with complex rhythms, her background as a dancer and percussionist for Kabells and Sharkmuffin coming through in the intricate interplay of handclaps, breathy beat-boxing, rattling metal implements, all manner of drums and, not least, her lithe, twining vocal lines. “Watercolor” blossoms out of a burst of choral “la”s, each note allowed to flower briefly before behind cut off with a knife-edge; these are organic sounds shaped with mechanical precision. Against this background, Nasimiyu herself enters, her voice fluttery and syncopated, a bit like Neneh Cherry. The mix is full of separate elements, the backing vocals, a synthesizer working as a bass, handclaps, Nasimiyu’s singing, but the song remains light and translucent. “Feelings,” sings Nasimiyu, “I am in my feelings,” and so, for a moment, are we. Nasimiyu is half Kenyan and half Scandinavian-American, and you can hear a bit of East Africa in the surging sweetness of choral singing on “Immigrant Hustle.” But there’s a post-modern gloss over everything, as the singer brings in sonic elements from jazz, electronica, dance, pop and afro-beat. Yet however many layers are added, the sound remains bright and clear, a bead curtain of musical sensation whose elements click faintly as they brush together, but remain essentially separate.

Jennifer Kelly

Carlos Niño & Friends — More Energy Fields, Current (International Anthem)

More Energy Fields, Current by Carlos Niño & Friends

Multi-instrumentalist and producer Carlos Niño latest album which straddles and largely crosses the line between spiritual jazz and new age ambience features friends from both worlds including Shabaka Hutchings, Jamael Dean, Dntel and Laraaji. Niño, who plays percussion and synthesizer, edited, mixed and produced the album from recordings made in 2019 and 2020 in a variety of settings. The results are largely low-key soundscapes designed to assist meditation on the fields and current of the title. Much evocation of the natural world, chiming eastern influenced percussion and layers of acoustic and synthetic keys that are lovely but tend to lull. It is the slightly disruptive reeds that prick the ears here, Aaron Hall’s plangent tenor on “Now the background is foreground,” Devin Daniels’ alto phrasing on “Together” and Hutchings’ expressive duet with Dean on “Please, wake up.”

Andrew Forell

Shane Parish — Disintegrated Satellites (Bandcamp subscription)

Disintegrated Satellites EP by Shane Parish

The normally ultra-productive Shane Parish didn’t put out a lot of music in 2020, and none of what did come out was recorded that year. It turns out that he was busy giving guitar lessons via zoom and moving from North Carolina to Georgia, but we’re well into a new year and he’s back in Bandcamp. This three tune EP doesn’t declare a new direction, of which Parish has had many, so much as an integration of his interests in American folk music and far Eastern tonalities. Simultaneously familiar and alien, but above all propulsive, it serves notice that the time for reflection has passed.

Bill Meyer

Séketxe — “Caixão de Luxo” (Chasing Dreams)

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The thing that gets your attention about Séketxe is… well, everything: how many of them there are (i.e., how you can’t really tell who’s in the group and who isn’t), how they’re all propellant, a musical bottle rocket bursting out of your speakers, confrontationally in your face on camera — and how much fun it looks like they’re having. Somewhere out there beyond the reaches of kuduro and Mystikal lie the Angolan barks and rasps of this youthful sextet, who trade verses (and a soothing harmony drizzled right across the madness at around 1:40) among one another over an Eddy Tussa sample on a beat by producer about town Smash Midas. What are they on about? My Portuguese is nonexistent, let alone my Luandan slang, but even I can tell that title translates to “luxury casket.” Anyway, it’s bonkers and if you’re looking for a jolt your morning joe doesn’t deliver anymore, Séketxe oughta do it. You’ll never catch me thanking an algorithm, but I guess it’s true the maths can serve it up right every once in a while. Séketxe is the proof.

Patrick Masterson

Tōth — You and Me and Everything (Northern Spy)

You And Me And Everything by Tōth

The title of Alex Toth’s solo debut, Practice Magic and Seek Professional Help When Necessary, alludes to his belief in music as therapy — that there’s an alchemy in the process, yet one that can’t necessarily be depended on to pull you out of an emotional hole when that hole gets too deep. On his new album, You and Me and Everything, all of his recent personal struggles are out in the open. There’s the tale of when he was so fucked up he couldn’t play trumpet at a family funeral (“Turnaround (Cocaine Song)”); there’s leaning on songwriting as a means to process the pain of heartbreak (“Guitars are Better Than Synthesizers for Writing Through Hard Times”); and there’s his ongoing battle with anxiety (“Butterflies”). While such heavy emotional terrain could prove hard-going, Toth approaches everything with a playfulness, a lightness of touch and a gentle haze to the production. Plus, he gets a helping hand from Jenn Wasner (Wye Oak, Flock of Dimes), who lends backing vocals to standout “Daffadowndilly,” which taps into the woozy gorgeousness of prime Robert Wyatt.

Tim Clarke

Mara Winter — Rise, follow (Discreet Editions)

Rise, follow by Mara Winter

For people with busy performance schedules, 2020 posed a problem; how do you stay busy and creative when you can’t do what you usually do? Mara Winter, an American-born, Swiss-based flute player who specializes in Renaissance-era repertoire and instruments, used it to forge a new creative identity. In partnership with experimental composer and multi-instrumentalist Clara de Asís, she began exploring the commonalities between early, composed music and contemporary approaches and developed a platform to disseminate documents of that research into the world. Rise, follow, the inaugural release of Discreet Editions, is an hour-long piece for two Renaissance-style bass flutes played by Winter and Johanna Bartz. The two musicians played long, overlapping tones with contrast attacks, pushing on until they grew so tired from hefting those woodwinds that they just couldn’t play anymore. Effectively the performance unit is a trio, since the two musicians had to accommodate or collaborate with the reverberant acoustics of Basel’s Kartäuserkirche. The church’s echo threw sounds back at the player, turning pure tones into blurred timbres. While the instrumentation is antique, the ideas about sound combination and endurance have more to do with Morton Feldman, Phill Niblock and Aíne O’Dwyer. The result is music that is simultaneously meditative and as heavy as a bench-pressing competition.

Bill Meyer

Wurld Series — What’s Growing (Melted Ice Cream)

What's Growing by Wurld Series

Some reviewers of What’s Growing, the second album by New Zealand’s Wurld Series, have managed to avoid making Pavement comparisons, but it’s hard to fathom their restraint. Brief opener “Harvester” feels like you’re being dropped mid-solo into a random Wowee Zowee track; the guitar tone on lead single “Nap Gate,” on the other hand, sounds like it's nicked straight from Crooked Rain, Crooked Rain. And while singer/guitarist Luke Towart doesn’t attempt to match Malkmus’ flamboyance in the vocal delivery department, their voices and wry lyrical observations bear a distinct resemblance to one another. “Caught beneath a dull blade / What a mess that would make” he sings on “Distant Business” before the song reaches its finale where guitar solos blast off from atop other guitar solos in an array of complementary textures. But besides being a ridiculously fun guitar pop record, What’s Growing is also threaded through with a British psych folk vibe replete with Mellotron flute — and the two styles blend seamlessly together thanks to Towart’s partner in crime, producer/drummer Brian Feary (Salad Boys, Dance Asthmatics). So, whether you're looking for a great summer indie rock record or you’ve ever wondered what the Fab Five from Stockton might’ve sounded like if they’d stuck to short songs and had more flutes, this one’s for you.

Chris Liberato

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tumbling-odyssey · 3 years

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Games I played in 2020

Just felt like getting my thoughts out on all the games I played this year. I’ve been wanting to do something like this for years but I always let it pass me by. Well not this year! Fuck you laziness!

I played the first half in 2019 but finished it in 2020 so I guess I'll count it. DQ11 was my intro to Dragon Quest and what a good starting point. I'm not exaggerating when I say this is one of the best traditional JRPGs on the market. Characters, story, combat, it all clicks in just the right way to make a flawless game... until the end credits roll that is.

I have no idea what happened with the post game but by god does it dive off a cliff. It undermines everything you worked to do in the main plot. The characters act brain dead and it shamelessly reuses events from the main game. Please pick up and play DQ11 but for the love of god just stop when the credits roll.

Doom is a game I knew I'd like. The heavy metal ascetic and soundtrack were right up my alley, but I just never found the time. With Eternal on the way though and having found it on the cheap at a pawn shop I figured there was no time like the present. Needless to say but I was right. I loved everything about this game. The thrill of combat, the screech of the guitars, and the silent take no shit attitude of Doomguy. Make no mistake though, I SUCK at this game. I played on easy but still got my ass handed to me on the regular. But I don't care, I was having way to much fun.

I flipped my shit when this game got leaked at the tail end of 2019. Zero 3 is my all time favourite game. To celebrate this getting announced I went and 100% Zero 3 as I hadn't done it on my current cart, and Zero 3 was still the first thing I played when I got this collection! I love that game to death and I’m glad to have it on modern consoles again. As I was under a bit of time crunch with other games releasing soon I only played 2 other games in the collection Zero 4 and ZX Advent. Until the DS collection those and 3 were the only Zero/ZX games I had so I have a lot of nostalgia for them.

Zero 4 hold ups better then I remember. Not as good as 3 but a damn solid game with tweaks I honestly wish hit the series before its end. I remember having issues with the stage design and ya it’s not perfect, but it’s far from as bad as I thought. For ZXA this was the first time I beat the game on normal difficulty. For some reason the ZX games have always given me more trouble than the Zero games, so finally beating one on normal was very exciting. Maybe I can now finally go and beat ZX for the first time...

The Mystery Dungeon series rising from the depth to punch all those unexpecting in the face was a very welcome surprise. I had a lot of hype going into this one as I have very fond memories of my time with Red Rescue Team and even more with Explorers of Darkness. And the game lived up to it! The remastered music is great and crazy nostalgic, the 3D models are well used and don't feel as stiff as they do in the core series, and the QOL changes are near perfect... So why did I drop this game like a rock once I finished the main quest?

Anyone familiar with Mystery Dungeon will know that the post game is the real meat of it. The story is short and all the really cool shit comes in after it's done. But I just couldn't bring myself to put more time in after I finished said story mode. I'm definitely chocking that up to me just not being in the mood then an issue with the game. Here's hoping we get an Explorers DX sometime soon. That will fucking hook me for all it's got.

Second verse same as the first. I loved this game and sucked at it horribly. Out of all the games I've played this year Doom Eternal is the one I want to go back to the most. I was not the hugest fan of some of the changes made and retained a stance that I liked 2016 better. First person platforming has never been a fun experience in my opinion and Eternal did little to change that. And I know this a lukewarm take at best but fuck Marauders!. They are so unfun to fight and ruin the pace. The Marauder in the last mook wave took me so long I was worried I wouldn’t be able to finish the game. But the more I've seen of Eternal after my playthrough makes me think I was being far to harsh. I haven't played the DLC yet either. Mostly cuss I haven't heard great things about it. Gonna wait for the rest of it to come out to see if it's worth getting. Might just replay to whole game at that point to see if it clicks with me better.

This was my second favourite game of the year, and was going to take the top slot until a certain other game came out. Addressing the elephant in room right away, I hated the ending. But I was expecting something like that, I think we all were. I won't let the ending ruin the rest of the game though. Not gonna let 1 segment colour everything that came before it. We have to see how the later parts play out to truly see if this ending was trash or not anyway.

It took Square over a decade but they finally got an action RPG battle system that works and feels good to play. This may be my favourite battle system in an RPG period honestly. All four characters are a blast and it only gets better the more time you spend with it. Figuring out the nuances of each character’s skills and how to combine them not only with the skills of the others but how to enhance them with the right Materia set. This makes fights thrilling and satisfying when you finally best whatever was giving you trouble. Tis was the best way to bring 7′s mechanics into the modern landscape while also fixing the BIGGEST issue the OG had. The fact every character feels the same aside from Limit Breaks.

All this on top of graphics that just look fucking stunning, a few glitched out doors aside. Fuck I still feel blown away looking at the characters models (mostly Tifa) and see how god damn pretty everyone is. Also Tifa’s Chinese dress is gift from the Gods and I still haven’t picked my jaw up from the floor after I first saw it.

In my circle of the internet there was a lot of hype for this game. So much so that I ended up buying it to see what all the hubbub was about. I had never played a Streets of Rage game before and my only experience with beat'em ups was playing a LOT of Scott Pilgrim and last year's River City Girls. Turns out Streets of Rage plays quite a bit different and it kicked my ass! So sadly I had to switch to easy to make it through but I still had a fun time with it.

I started playing mostly as Blaze but once Adam hit the scene oooooh fucking boy. I didn’t play anyone else. There's a deceptive amount of content in this game. You can unlock almost every character from the previous games and all of them rocking their original sprites and moves. If I had more of a connection with this series I'm sure I would have gone nuts on unlocking everything. I stopped after my one playthrough and I was happy with that. Always glad to support a long overdue franchise revival.

To properly talk about P5R I think I need to air a lot of my feelings on the original game and the importance it has to me. You see, prior to 2017 I barely played games, only sticking to specific franchises. AKA Pokemon and Mega Man/Mega Man like games. Until 2016 though I still bought a lot of games. Eating up Steam sales and deals I found at pawn shops. This lead to a Steam library and shelf filled with games I've never touched outside of maybe an hour or 2. So in 2016 when I took interest in the newly released Kirby Planet Robobot I made a deal with myself. I could get the game but I HAD to beat it. And I did just that, gaining not just a new fav Kirby game but a new rule for game purchases. If I knew I wouldn't beat a game I was not aloud to buy it. Now what does ANY of this have to do with P5 you may ask? Well... almost everything.

I was immediately interested in P5 when it hit the west in 2017. I loved the 20 or so hours I but into P3 years ago and really liked the P4 anime I had watched around the same time. So of course with all the hype around it I wanted to dive into the series full force with P5. But I knew myself. Putting over 100 hours into a game was beyond me and I had a weird relationship with home console games as I was predominately a handheld gamer. Add in the fact I didn't even have a PS4 and I was convinced P5 would be something I always wanted to play, but never would. So when I went to the mall with a few friends and they showed me that P5 had a PS3 version, I had a dilemma on my hands. I knew I wanted to play it and I now had a way to do so. But doing that would require me to change 2 HUGE hang ups I had with games. Would I being willing to waste 60 bucks with so much working against me? Apparently I was. I immediately started going to town on this game. Making sure I spent no less then 2 hours a day playing NO MATTER WHAT. Which may not seem like a lot but it was to me... at the time.. I also had just moved to my current house, so coming home from my still relatively new job and going straight into P5 was the first real routine I formed during this heavily transitional part of my life.

I of course ended up loving P5 and put 200 hours into it. As such my outlook on gaming was forever changed. Console games were no longer out of reach and I knew I could handle playing monster length game. I started playing way more games then I ever did before and trying out generas I never thought I would play. P5 is the main reason for this and why I'm able to make a post like this. To actually touch on Royal though? It's unarguably the better version of the game and Atlus learned all the right lessons from P4G. The new characters are great and the added section at the end is possibly the best shit Atlus has ever written. I only wish Yoshizawa joined the party sooner so I could play as her more.

The release of this really came out of nowhere huh? Wayforward announced it was being made mid way through 2019, then there was its weird half release on the Apple store... and then suddenly it was out! Very little fanfare for this one. Is that indicative of the games quality? Luckily no. Seven Sirens is a solid addition to the series and follows up Half Genies Hero nicely. The game goes back to Shantae's Metroidvania roots and makes a TON of improvements.

Transformations are now instant instead of having to dance for them (don't worry dancing is still in the game) making the game feel more like Pirates Curse in its fast flow. They also added the Monster Cards which take heavy inspiration from Aria of Sorrow's Soul system. A feature I'm happy to see in any Metroidvania since Aria is one of my all time favourite games. Sadly though the game does not take the best advantage of these improvements.

Over all the game feels kinda empty. The dungeons aren't super exciting to explore nor are they challenging in any way. And the plot is very repetitive, with each dungeon repeating the same beats. Really this game feels more like set up for a better game down the line. The mechanics are all here and Wayforward has a solid art style with the sprites from Half Genie Hero. Hopefully they capitalizes on this for Shantae 6 and we get the best game in the series.

While it may not have been the most thrilling game, Seven Sirens really put me into a Shantae mood. So much so that I went back to play the 2 games in the series I had never touched. This being the first game and Risky's Revenge. Shantae 1 really is a hidden gem in my opinion. Don't get me wrong, it's the definition of jank, but there's a lot of heart to this game. The sprites are great, the soundtrack is good, and the characters are funny... but it's still on the OG Gameboy and that's a massive hindrance for any game. I'm hard pressed to recommend this with how poorly its aged but I think it's better then it looks.

Risky's Revenge on the other hand was a game that shocked me by how little it had to offer. I know this game went through a hellish development and what we got was far from what Wayforward planned to make, but it's hard to imagine a world where this was the technical BEST Shantae game. It's not a bad game by any stretch... just a boring one.

For the record my ranking of the games goes Pirates Curse>Half Genie Hero>Seven Sirens>Original>Risky’s Revenge

Sword and Shield are mediocre games at best. I know, real steaming hot take there. I managed to make my Sword playthrough a lot more fun by not spoiling myself on the new Pokemon designs for the first time since Gen 3. Either way, I enjoyed myself enough that I didn't mind playing more of it with these DLC campaigns. Plus I love the idea of Game Freak switching over to this method as apposed to making a third version, so I wanted to support it.

Klara is a fucking top tier Poke Girl both in design and personality and is probably the highlight of Isle of Armour. GF actually went out of their way to give her multiple expressions to sell her toxic bitch personality and I love every minute of it. She sadly drifts into the background for the second half of the DLC’s story which hurts an already rough section even more. Not more then having to grind Kubfuu all the way to fucking level 70 though! That put a serious hamper on my motivation to finish the story but I pushed through anyway. Having to solo the tower with Kubfuu was at least a fun challenge though, as was the final fight with Mustard. Fuck the Diglett hunt though. Ain’t no one got time for that.

Crown Tundra may be my fav of the 2 though even if there isn't a character as good as Klara in it. The hunt for the legendaries was just pure adventure and I had a fucking blast doing it. The joy I felt when I figured out Registeel’s puzzle put a smile on my face unlike any Pokemon game since I was a kid. The whole Regi stuff was honestly a nice Nostalgia trip to my times with Emerald. The story around Calyrex was enjoyable, even if I still hate its design. Not revealing the horses before release was a good call to as it gave an honest surprise. Having to chase down the Galar forme Birds in the overworld is a great way to evolve the roaming legendaries idea and I hope GF sticks to this. Plus the Galar forme birds are some of the best legendary designs since Gen 5 and I love Chocodos way to fucking much.

Here we are folks, my GotY. I love Panzer Paladin so fucking much. A combination of mechanics from Mega Man, Castlevania, and Blaster Master? Sign me the fuck up! This game is tailored made for me and I knew I had to play it once it started making the rounds on social media. I'll admit though, I was a bit worried when the the first full trailer dropped and showed the weapon mechanics. Breakable weapons that you have to sacrifice for checkpoints and power ups? I'm not sure about that.... Luckily I was being a complete moron and those mechanics are near perfect.

I love the set up of each boss being a mythological creature from different cultures. They didn’t just pull the easy ones either. A lot of these things I learned of for the first time here. I love how Grit controls. Using the upward stab as a double jump and being able to pogo off enemies Shovel Knight style just felt great and satisfying. Flame was limited but it made her sections feel tense. She does more damage then you think she could at first glance. Also the only way to heal Grit being to use pods that only Flame could access was a cool idea.

I am begging you Tribute Games, you have to make more Panzer Paladin games. Slap some new upgrades on Grit and expand what Flame can do and you have an even better sequel on your hands. Also maybe not have so many 'gotcha' moments with enemy placement. That's really my only complaint about the game. Great music, great sprites, giant robots, unique premise, and a reference to Canadian legends. The ultimate self indulgent game for me.

It felt super out of left field for Curse of the Moon to be getting a sequel. The games fucking amazing but it was really just a tie in for the main Bloodstained product. Not something I expect to get a continuation. Either way I was pumped. If this was even half as good as the original then I was in for a great time. Which held true... cuss this legitimately is only half as good as Curse of the Moon. I still like the game, quite a lot actually. I mean how could I not with a fucking Corgi piloting a Death Train Mech.

Something was just missing here that never made this click like the first game. Maybe it was the stage design, maybe the bosses, maybe the fact that it's a bit to long. I'm not sure. All I know is I couldn't bring myself to play all the modes like I did in the original. . Stopping part way in to the one where you can get the first games characters. I want to go back some day... I just don’t know when someday is.

This was an announcement I never saw coming. A Gundam Verses game coming to the west? That hasn't happened in the entire time I've been a Gundam fan. I had played a bit of Full Boost on my old roommates PS3 thanks to him having a Japanese account and I played Force on the Vita a few years ago. But to have the latest version fully translated with open servers? Holy hell that's a dream come true.

Having the open betas every weekend leading up to launch was some much needed fun during this shit hole year. I had a lot of fun just fucking around with different suits and seeing what I could do with 'em. Absolutely trashing two Bael players as the Kapool is a memory I'll keep with me for a long time. Fucking danced on their graves. This gave me some new appreciation for suits like the Baund Doc and Hambrabi, the later becoming a lowkey fav as it was my main.

I've fallen off with the game in the last few months but I definitely want to go back. I hope to start learning the game and take parts in tourneys when cons aren’t death sentences anymore.

It felt like everything in my life was SCREAMING at me to start the Yakuza series. From 2 of my friends playing 0 recently, a youtuber I following live tweeting as he played through the WHOLE series back-to-back, and Yakuza 2 having a run at AGDQ 2020. Plus the constant pleas to play this series you get from following Little Kuriboh on Twitter. I finally broke and picked up 0 in the middle of August. Boooooooooy howdy did I not know what I was getting in to. And no I don't mean the content. I knew Yakuza was a series of wildly conflicting tones between the main story and side quests. What I mean is the length. I legit thought this was gonna be a 20-30 hour game. When i reached hour 30 of my playthrough and realized I wasn't even close to a conclusion, I think I knew I had bitten off more then I was planning. That misstep aside I ended up loving this game and want to play the rest of the series.... I just need to rest up first before I dive into Kiwami 1.

Let's actually talk about the game for a moment here. Kiryu and Majima quickly clicked as likeable characters to me and I cared about their stories. Combat is fun and the multiple styles are all great.... though both the default styles take a while to get there. The mad rush I felt at the end was fantastic and the last bosses are a joy to fight. Only real complaint is the pacing of the side stories. I loved being able to just stumble into various different events while on route to the next plot objective. But this became less common as the game went on and side stories started getting more tucked away. Also hot take here, the host club mingame is more tedious then fun and I like Kiryu’s business stuff as I could do that in the background. I’m excited to dive into Kiwami and probably Kiwami 2 this year... Though I’m not sure when just yet.

Just gonna say it flat out, I think this is better the the 2018 game. The smaller scale helps in this style of game and Miles just naturally has a better move set then Peter. I'm not sure if they actually tightened up the combat system or if they just threw less bullshit enemies at you but fighting feels so much better in this one. Traversal is better too, simply because they changed the button for tricks. In the original you have to hold down 2 face buttons to enter trick mode??? In hindsight that was such a bad call.

Having both the heal and venom powers run off the same meter was a good idea. Making the choice between keeping yourself alive guaranteed or potentially ending a fight quicker/disposing of a problem enemy is super fun. The player having to make small choices like this during combat is what helps it not be brainless. I love all the different venom skills you get. While they all achieve the same thing in stunning opponents, how you achieve that goal is up to you. Do you want to just slug the bastard, throw 'em up in the air, tackle the shit out of them? The choice is yours.

Only real big complaint is certain upgrades being NG+ locked. I know you want to encourage replays, but this is a shitty way to do it I feel. Also can we retire Rhino for the next game. Man has had 2 shitty boss fights now and I need a break. Between this and Spider-Verse, I'm honestly starting to like Miles as Spider-Man more then Peter.

I got this game more on a whim then anything. I was definitely interested when it was first announced for the west. Vanillaware's beautiful art style in a story about giant robots beating the shit out of Kaijus? Sign me the fuck uuuuuu-oh wait it's an RTS? I had never played an RTS's before, mainly due to the sheer concept stressing me out. So I let it fall to the wayside. The game started coming up again though towards the end of the year with GotY on everyone's minds. This revived my interest, especially as what I HAD planned to be playing around that time was... well. Cyberpunk. Don't think I need to say much more. Also I had worried for nothing as the Real Time Strategy was not that Real Time.

This game really lays on the analysis paralysis once you're out of the tutorial. Do you want to fight, do you want to do story, who's story do you want to do, what branch should you follow, how much should you play with this one character? It's very overwhelming at first. I decided to not go ham on just one character and swap around all the time. The twists in this game are equal parts exciting and infuriating. Learning something new always came with the caveat of more questions, or something you knew 'for sure' being disproven. Like when I learned 1 characters was actually 4 separate ones! Anyone that's played knows exactly what I'm talking about.

Natsuno ended up being my fav and not just because of.... obvious reasons. BJ was cute if unfortunately named and her relationship with Mirua was my favourite in the game. Not that there was much competition except for maybe Ogata and Tomi. I ended up really liking the combat but I can see why RTS fans say it's the weakest part. It's far from complex and I had a winning strat by the third or so real fight. Aka spam turrets and have the Gen 1′s gank all the bosses.

One quick thing I want to share was how I beat the boss at the end of Area 2. The one where Inaba is singing. I had Hijiyama use the limit break skill to bum rush the boss right off the hop. I took out half its health in one hit but Hijiyama’s Sentinel was on death’s door. Only thing that saved him was sending in Amaguchi to blow up a bunch of missiles. Hijiyama took it out on his next attack but lost his Sentinel at the same time. It was a real clutch victory and crazy fucking anime.

The best way to really describe Carrion is that it's a fantastic proof of concept. Can you make a game where you play as The Thing? Why yes, yes you can. Carrion just needed a bit more tweaking to really bring this concept home and be the A+ game I know it can be. As it is now the game is a bit empty. The level design is super samey and the lack of a map is fucking brutal at points. I know it would make no sense for a blob monster to have a map but somethings you just have to gameify for convenience. The level design must have done something right as even though I was completely lost I still moved from area to area properly. Hell by the time I actually looked up a map I had 1 more item to get and I learned I was one door away from beating the game.

I love the idea of losing mass as you take damage and gaining more by eating people, but having abilities tied to size was a terrible idea. It just leads to tedium as I have to go and shed myself to the right size, do the puzzle, then of course I'm going to go back and rebuild myself to see if I can do the next segment at full power. Just make it so you can swap between abilities using the d-pad or something. I hope this game gets a sequel just so this sick ass concept can be fully realized.

#games #goty #Final Fantasy #pokemon #spiderman #yakuza #gundam #bloodstained #panzer paladin #shantae #persona #streets of rage #doom #mega man #dragon quest #13 sentinels: aegis rim #carrion

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kmalexander · 3 years

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The 2020 Cosmic Horror Holiday Gift Guide

The phrase “Black Friday” has a more menacing tone in 2020—especially here in the United States. Hopefully, you’re following the advice of the experts, staying home, laying low, wearing masks, and washing your hands. But a pandemic shouldn’t stop gift giving! So, once again, I took some time and assembled my List of Lists for 2020. In it, you’ll find a plethora of paraphernalia for the weird-fiction fanatic, cosmic-horror connoisseur, or mythos maniac in your life. As with previous years, I’ve worked to assemble a list of exceptional items for all ages and budgets.

There’s a few changes this year. First, I’m now linking to IndieBound for all books. Please do what you can to support your local bookshops and small businesses. Odds are they can get you anything Amazon can, and it’ll help out your community. Secondly, where possible, I’m also linking to the author’s personal webpages. Check them out. Follow them. It’s a nice way to stay current with what’s happening in the world of weird fiction. Please remember, while I’ve ordered these by price, the prices and availability are subject to change. I don’t have any control over that. Happy shopping!

QUICK LINKS

• Books • Music • Apparel • Games • • Housewares • Miskatonic •

Books

Mother Hydra’s Mythos Rhymes by Jarred W. Wallace $9.95 + Shipping (Paperback)

This mock children’s book features twenty-one sinister nursery rhymes twisted with a Cthulhu Mythos bent and illustrated by the incredible Heather Hudson. Also included is a complete Edward Gorey-style alphabet. Every budding cultist should learn their ABCs after all.

The Worm And His Kings by Hailey Piper $13.00 + Shipping (Paperback) $6.99 (eBook)

This arrived only a few weeks ago, and I can’t wait to dive in. Set in New York City in 1990, the story follows Monique as she hunts for her missing girlfriend. But the trail goes much deeper than she realizes, sending Monique into a subterranean world of enigmatic cultists and shadowy creatures.

The Stars Were Right by K. M. Alexander $14.00 + Shipping (Paperback) $2.99 (eBook)

I’m nearly finished with Book Four’s edits. So, if you haven’t, now is the perfect time to start reading my Bell Forging Cycle. Follow Waldo Bell as he is sent careening through the multi-level megalopolis of Lovat, fighting to clear his name as a bloodthirsty killer stalks him. It’s mystery and monsters, chases and cults, and an ancient evil in a world that is similar but not quite like our own.

RADIO by J. Rushing $15.99 + Shipping (Paperback) $3.99 (eBook)

A jazz-infused, opium-soaked, historical fantasy with a transgressive edge that explodes from the opening chapter and never relents until its final pages—a welcome addition to modern fantasy literature and weird enough that it earned a place on this list.

Murder Ballads And Other Horrific Tales by John Hornor Jacobs $16.95 + Shipping (Paperback) $7.95 (eBook)

Seems like it’s becoming a tradition to see a new book from John Hornor Jacobs on this list every year, and it’s no surprise. He’s arguably one of the best mythos writers working today. This collection of recent horror and crime short stories takes you through tales involving old gods to malevolent artiﬁcial intelligences, plus it includes the sequel to his 2011 novel, Southern Gods.

The Cipher by Kathe Koja $17.95 + Shipping (Paperback) $3.99 (eBook)

Part haunted house story, part body horror, part descent-into-madness tale all told in the style of Transgressive Literature. The Cipher is one of those stories I was shocked I hadn’t read until this year. Koja writes stunningly physical characters and knotted complex relationships that feel eerily familiar to anyone who’s spent time in artist circles. Enjoy the Fun Hole. (One of my 2020 Three Great Horror Reads for Halloween.)

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones $26.99 + Shipping (Hardcover) $9.99 (eBook)

At its heart, this is a horror novel about growing up poor and native in western Montana. But The Only Good Indians also a novel about revenge, mistakes, and their extended consequences. I blew through it. I grew up not too far from where this novel is set, and I have yet to find a recent author that captures the behavior and actions of the people in that area quite as well as Jones. You’ll never look at elk the same way again. (One of my 2020 Three Great Horror Reads for Halloween.)

The City We Became by N. K. Jemisin $28.00 + Shipping (Hardcover) $14.99 (eBook)

The first of the Great Cities series focuses on a roiling, ancient evil that stirs beneath the streets of New York City and threatens to destroy the city. New York must go on, and it will take five protectors scattered across the boroughs coming together to stop it. An allegorical response to Lovecraft’s work and a love letter to the city.

The Dark Brotherhood and Other Pieces by H.P. Lovecraft $650.00 + Shipping (One Copy Available—Sold via AbeBooks)

This rare late-60s first edition copy from Arkham House is in fine condition with a fine dustwrapper. It also comes with an inscription by the publisher and editor of this work: “for Herb Arnold from the compiler – August Derleth.” An extremely unique find and a unique piece of weird fiction history.

No book catches your interest? Check out the books featured in one of the previous guides. • 2014 Books • 2015 Books • 2016 Books • 2017 Books • 2018 Books • 2019 Books •

Music & Audio

Tribute To H.P. Lovecraft by Epsilon Eridani Free (Digital Download)

This atmospheric and somber dark ambient album is the third project from Mexican electronic artist Juan Pablo Valle. Blending instrumental tracks, spoken words performances, and recitations of parts of Lovecraft’s stories, this tribute serves as an excellent horror soundtrack.

The Yellow Sign $6.99 (Digital Download)

While Lovecraftian music often skews towards dark ambient or metal performances, The Yellow Sign goes takes a more orchestral approach. Composer Graham Plowman has created a fantastic classical soundtrack putting this album on par with any feature film—brooding, menacing, and wonderfully enjoyable.

Beyond Madness by Aklo $9.00 (Digital Download)

Erich Zann would be jealous. Aklo, like its madness-inducing namesake, is hard to pin down. But this album captures “the beyond” in ways not often heard in modern music. Part noise, part experimental, Beyond Madness is an excellent addition to any Lovecraft fan’s collection.

Live from Stockholm by Ogham Waite $12.00 (Digital Download)

Ogham Waite, one of Innsmouth’s Deep One inhabitants, and the Amphibian Jazz Band are the mythos’ answer to the lounge stylings of early Tom Waits. Bluesy and moody, this seductively smokey album drips with saltwater. Waite’s performance and delivery are melodious as they are melodic, a great addition to mythos music.

Ambrose Bierce’s The Boarded Window $20.00 + Shipping (Vinyl)

This limited vinyl pressing of Bierce’s unsettling perspective-shifting tale is read by Anthony D. P. Mann and scored by Chris Bozzone. Cadabra Records always goes the extra mile with their products, and it’s clear from the hand-poured red and white splattered vinyl to the incredible art by Jeremy Hush.

Deities by Tortuga €22.50 ($26.68) + Shipping (Vinyl) €5.00 ($5.93) (Digital Download)

This one showed up randomly on a playlist, and I found myself intrigued. Once I listened to it, I became a fan. Tortuga is a Polish doom metal band whose work is loaded down with intricate and heavy driving riffs inspired by Lovecraft’s writings. It’s good stuff.

Not finding any music or audio that interests you? Check out one of the previous guides. • 2014 Music • 2015 Music • 2016 Music • 2017 Music • 2018 Music • 2019 Music •

Apparel

Tiki Cthulhu Embroidered Patch $9.00 + Shipping

I see many patches as I search for new cosmic horror gear throughout the year, and occasionally I find one that rises to the top. This sew-on tiki-styled Ctuhulu is 3″ x 2.5″ and was created for the 2018 H. P. Lovecraft Film Festival. If you want a mythos inspired adornment for your bag or jacket that’s a bit outside the norm, look no further.

Cthulhu Socks $18.00 + Shipping

It’s winter in the northern hemisphere, that means you need to keep your appendages warm. Also, socks-for-Christmas is a right of passage. Why not consider getting these Cthulhu Socks from PutYourSocksOn featuring tentacles up the side and an illustration of the dead and dreaming Cthulhu on the ankle.

Sourpuss Tropicthulhu Rosie Dress $29.00 + Shipping

When you are associated with the ocean, you generally get associated with the tropics regardless of where your sunken city dwells. This 40’s style Rosie Dress allows you to show your appreciation of R’lyeh’s favorite son in a subtle but delightful manner.

Amulet of Azathoth £23.95 ($34.42) + Shipping

It’s the grandpappy of the mythos deities in amulet form! Well, kinda. A representation of the nuclear chaos beyond angled space himself. This antique amulet is a little over an inch and a half long and is cold cast in a mixture of resin and brass—a stunning little pendant.

Mother & Father Statuary Set $85.00 + Free Shipping

These handmade and hand-painted resin figures of Dagon and Hydra would work perfectly as bookends or garden statues. Aged in a way to evoke feelings of lost treasure salvaged from the seafloor or perhaps a dank and forgotten chamber somewhere beneath Innsmouth. Kinda cute to boot.

Cara Mater Silvae Shub-Niggurath Woodcut Print $187.50 + Free Shipping (Limited Edition)

Liv Rainey-Smith’s fantastic woodcut work has long been a fixture in the weird lit community. This limited-edition print is done in the style of a sacred icon and features a great rendition of Shub-Niggurath, The Black Goat of the Woods with a Thousand Young, or as my readers will know her, “Cybill.”

Keeper of the Nightmare Mask $331.53 + Free Shipping (Made to Order)

Plague doctors always cut a fearsome figure in humanity’s historical memory, but what lies beneath that leather mask and shielded eyes? This custom made-to-order mask twists tentacles to form that familiar (and terrifying) plague-doctor shape adding an extra level of menace to an already menacing form.

Not finding apparel you like? Check out the apparel on one of the previous guides. • 2014 Apparel • 2015 Apparel • 2016 Apparel • 2017 Apparel • 2018 Apparel • 2019 Apparel •

Games

No Players Online Name Your Own Price (Windows/Linux)

What starts as a simple old demo of a capture-the-flag 3D shooter found on a discarded tape eventually twists and turns becoming something else entirely. I’m a sucker for the 80s glitch aesthetic, and it’s used here in masterfully unsettling ways—multiple endings, interesting game world, very much worth your time.

Kadath $5.99 (Digital Download, Early Access)

This first chapter of a first-person cosmic-horror adventure has you following the case of a World War II Nazi train that vanished only to reappear in a cave in the Himalayas 75 years later. Dripping with atmosphere and filled with brilliant puzzles, this first chapter left me excited for Kadath and wanting more.

Fate of Cthulhu $20.00 (Downloadable PDF) $35.00 + Shipping (Book + PDF)

In this tabletop roleplaying game from Fred Hicks and Evil Hat Productions, you and your friends will find yourself sent into the past on a mission to prevent the future. It’s a race against time as you try to stop the stars from being right and prevent Cthulhu’s foretold return, all before you and yours are transformed into something monstrous.

Elder Sign Dice – Blue Aether $24.99 + Shipping

Infinite Black has been making some wonderful cosmic-horror-themed gaming products for a few years. They’ve finally gotten easy enough to nab for holiday gifts. These Blue Aether Elder Sign Dice stood out to me, but they have a robust catalog making it easy to find the right gift for the dicing Lovecraft fan in your life. (Or yourself.)

Fate of the Elder Gods $63.99 + Shipping

Cults battle cults in this race to summon your ancient order’s elder god of choice! But it’s not just the other conniving worshippers and cult leaders you need to worry about, crafty investigators are on the prowl, and they’re working to subvert everyone’s goals as well. Hasten the earth’s doom in this competitive area-control game for two to four players.

Hastur $274.99 + Shipping (Two Shipments)

I’m a big fan of the Mysterious Package Company, the quality of their products always impresses. This latest journey into the realm of Hastur is no exception. Taking place over several mailings, Hastur invites the recipient into the world of the King in Yellow, the play with the same name, and the utter madness that dwells within those words.

Not finding a game you’d enjoy? Check out the games on one of the previous guides. • 2014 Games • 2015 Games • 2016 Games • 2017 Games • 2018 Games • 2019 Games •

Housewares & Collectables

Cedric’s Eatery 11oz. Mug $16.00 + Shipping

It’s cold out, and you need a new mug. Why not pick one up from Lovat’s own Cedric’s Eatery located in the entresol between Levels Three and Four. An in-between place for in-between folks. Waldo Bell’s latest hangout. Fill your mug with 11 oz. of bad coffee, your favorite tea, or something stronger. [From the pages of the Bell Forging Cycle.]

Cthulhu Clay Idol & Letter $29.80 + Free Shipping

Alternative takes on the Cthulhu idol are rare. More often than not, we see the same shape repeated over and over. Because of that, this rawer, more original piece stood out to me. It feels more realistic in many ways, reminding me of the sort of thing one would find on an archeological dig. Plus, with the attached letter, you get a little mini-experience here.

Sea Monster Shower Curtain $32.00 + Shipping

There be dragons. And there. And there. And… well, all over the place! If you love weird old sea monsters and old maps, then this curtain will be perfect for you. Decorate your shower with this fantastic curtain featuring beasts that look lifted from early Renaissance maps. 70″ x 72″. Liner recommended.

Cthulhu Lovecraft Blanket $59.99 + Shipping

As cooler air moves into the northern hemisphere, we can all celebrate the arrival of the cozy season. To stay warm, why not cuddle up beneath this cotton and acrylic Jacquard Knit blanket featuring the squatting visage of The Great Dreamer himself? He might be cold but you don’t have to be.

Anxious Blob Original Sculpture $325.00 + Shipping (Supplies are limited.)

This weird little one-off sculpture of a nervous little entity is made with polymer clay and hand-painted. The eye sits beneath a glass dome giving this piece a unique character. Who among us hasn’t wanted an anxious blob with hundreds of teeth and a single staring eye decorating our walls?

Not finding a houseware item you like? Check out the housewares from one of the previous guides. • 2016 Housewares • 2017 Housewares • 2018 Housewares • 2019 Housewares •

Miskatonic University

Miskatonic University Pennant $15.99 + Shipping

I love seeing all the different takes for Miskatonic University collegiate gear. Here you can show your support for “Ole Misk” with a felt pennant from H.P. Lovecraft Historical Society and cheer on the “mighty Miskatonic Myrmidons” to another victory. Wave that banner proudly!

Miskatonic University Real Leather Notebook $41.40 + Shipping

Journaler? Artist? Writer? Mathematician? Norwegian sea captain? Random idea generator? If you’re one of these, odds are you need a notebook. This 8″x6″ Miskatonic-themed journal features 100 sheets of thick handmade Khadda paper and is durable enough for the dig site while still being elegant enough for the classroom.

Miskatonic University Wax Seal $48.07 + Shipping

Secure your correspondence with old friends from bygones eras who seek answers using this classic and exquisite seal. It might not stop prying eyes, but at least your old colleagues will know if someone’s been tampering with their mail. (Wax sold separately.)

Miskatonic University Hockey Sweater $109.00 + Shipping (Supplies are limited.)

Every sports fan needs a jersey. Miskatonic students are no different. It’s why when I came across this Hockey Sweater from Geeky Jerseys I knew it’d be perfect for the cosmic horror student in your life. (While this one is great, I’m hoping the superior Miskatonic 2.0 sweater becomes available once again.)

Not finding any Miskatonic University gear you like? Check out the Miskatonic University items from one of the previous guides. • 2014 Miskatonic • 2015 Miskatonic • 2016 Miskatonic • 2017 Miskatonic • • 2018 Miskatonic • 2019 Miskatonic •

Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays!

So that wraps up the seventh annual List of Lists. Let’s all keep wearing our masks, socially distancing, and washing our hands so we can all do this again next year. Big thank you to everyone who has suggested items in the past to help me pad out this list. Y’all rule. If I didn’t get to your submission, fret not. There are many more holidays ahead. I appreciate the help.

Do you have a book, game, album, or other weird fiction-related items I should feature in 2021’s Cosmic Horror Holiday Gift Guide? Leave a comment below with links to your favorite goodies for others to see, or send me an email as a potential submission for next year!

Want to stay in touch with me? Sign up for Dead Drop, my rare and elusive newsletter. Subscribers get news, previews, and notices on my books before anyone else delivered directly to their inbox. I work hard to make sure it’s not spammy and full of interesting and relevant information. Sign Up Today→

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h0unds-of-h3ll · 4 years

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Boy’s don’t cry

Women could not and never will be as great as man, you’ll see about that.

A Steve Rogers x reader. (Not my normal thing, I hope that I can write for more marvel characters in the future!)

Viewers beware you’re in for a scare with the; soft amount of angst, explicit language, sexual remarks/themes, there’s a couple slurs in this and is on the darker side so please be careful to skip over this if you are triggered by it! other then that this is probably the most fluffiest shit I will ever manage to write. So enjoy!

“RUN ALL THE WAY TO BASE THEN BACK TO HERE.” He shouted in your face spit flying on your neck which he breathed down. Sweat mixing along with it as it ran and spilled into other drops. You knew you couldn’t possibly run that, it was too far. You also knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer and if you’d try to make him make sense you’d get far worse then you already had. So you tighten your hands into tight fists crescent moons laid on the inside of your palms from how they were closed. You could punch him in the face then get a bit of a head start, maybe. But then his flock of men would gang up on you. Except for one, Steven Rogers.

An odd man of sorts, the selfless softie of a soldier. With a heart of gold and one of which was easy to please. He wanted to befriend those he chose worthy, which happened to be few. Less than a few, in fact, and in that few. Included you. You never understood his intentions of him and you became allies. Sure, it had benefits of watching one another’s backs and making aware neither recipient's shit was stolen, by your so-called “brothers”. You also happened to be one of the smallest ones out of the ranks. Short, petite, and less stocky. And you could blame that on one thing. Being female. You always adored the fight, always wanted to shove it in others' faces so that you could show them that you were strong and not some weak little girl. And well it worked for a while, until someone found out.

Sweat gathered everywhere as your boot clad feet managed to kick their way across the dirt ground. Leaving a brown gust behind. Your fists still clenched in fists as you looked like a “rock em sock em robot.” Your eyes began to blur as the sweat leaked into them, your lungs screamed behind the tight bandages wrapped tight around your breasts. Your head pounded with your heart in a twisted symphony, you couldn’t breathe anymore. Resulting in you to stop. Shit. You bent down hands open on your green pants, breathe, dammit breathe. You closed your eyes as the only thing you breathed was dirt.

Your sweat-drenched, your shirt making your back look as if it was its own waterfall. You wished that you had music to listen to, get you motivated, and make you forget about the burn everywhere. But that’s unrealistic to have a portable music player, what a crazy thought. You might have gone mad, and by the looks of where you currently were. You already had. Your ears picked on a different pounding. Confused, you looked around. Nothing seemed to be moving where you stood, the dry air stood as still as a tree. Curiouser, and curiouser. The sun began to set over the dirt hill you stood on, signaling that it was almost dinner time back at camp. You began to start walking again, your thumbs hanging in the tops of them. You were sad that there were not any pockets sewn into them, maybe you’d steal some thread and needle from the nurse. Your thoughts were thrown away as you heard the pound of heavy feet flooding into your area. Shit. You were going to get caught slacking, and slacking meant doom, which meant you getting found out about and being sent back home.

How could you be so dumb to stop and relax as if the world wasn’t on its back right now like a turtle? You tried to hang your head low and keep to yourself, but then you shortly realized it would become suspicious. Because men were boys and well boys were the most immature people you have ever met. Therefore you had to fit in which meant getting into trouble. Which led you to the one time where you thought it’d be a great day to play out an ingenious prank on Steve. Only for it to backfire and to you being thrown into a lake, golden boy your ass. And guess who had gotten into trouble. You. So much for being friends. The traitor. And got you here, sweating your ass off to run back home. You were so concentrated on figuring out a plan that you hadn’t noticed that the fear-induced panic was simply caused by the devil himself, Steve. He clamped a hand on your back as he gave you a small smile, and greeted you; “Hey!”

His deep voice boomed. It, to say the least, scared you out of your mind you reared back and punched him. Right in his nose. Of course, it bled, and of course, it just added to your long list of shit your commander was going to yell at you for. The guilt drowned you as his hand ran to come over his nose trying to stop the blood. Which happened to dribble its way onto his white undershirt, the heat taking its toll on him, as well. Christ. His head went back and he looked up at the orange dust of the sky. His blonde hair shone against the setting sun making it appear blonder than it already was. “Hello Steve, would be rather much more appreciated than this,” he gestured towards his face with his free hand and let out a soft snicker, not believing this could happen from a simple ‘hey’. You wouldn’t lie, it was a contagious laugh, one that ran through you. Straight to your heart, to your cheeks, and made you let out a smile.

“I am so so sorry, I really didn’t mean to, you just came upon me, and I freaked out an-“ your apology became a ramble as you tried to make him see where you were coming from. He once again laid his free hand on your shoulder, and gave you a soft smile which made his eyes crinkle. Yet it still made him more attractive. You would never admit it for the fear of the rejection it would receive, but it would just be another secret in the overwhelming pile that’s starting to lean. “Don’t worry about it, it’s my fault I shouldn’t have scared you like that,” he spoke his grin turning sour as the blood seeped into his pinkish top lip. Oh god, you never quite got how he could look so hot in any situation, blood, sweat, his terrible acting. He could pull anything off if he wanted to and you’d be right along with him. You wouldn’t dare ever admit that, knowing it would just feed into his already inflated ego. Not to mention how he towered over you, side by side. You were an ant that he could crush with his pinkie. Even though you were small, you could still do some damage. Speaking of which “Holy, hell.”

He growled out in frustration as he couldn’t falter the bleeding. Your stomach did a whole circus act after that. You thought you would jab at him a bit more. “I thought Captain America never cursed,” you smirked, getting cocky as you continued. “You know, gotta keep up that image,” with that, he glared down at you from the bridge of his nose. His once-bright sky blue eyes turned dark like one of the ocean as his brain processed the stab, it was the look that spoke in itself that said you were in trouble. “Excuse me?” He asked, still entirely composed but wanting to play in the situation. With the sliest grin, you ever saw him give, only if he knew the things he did to you. Although you immediately took back that thought, whenever you heard the thunder of twenty to thirty men coming your way. Fuck. You were doomed. Hollering and hooting from their hoarse lungs, from being deprived of water for so long.

When you looked at Steve again his face matched yours in freight, yet his weeping bloody nose was dried and you stared at each other for a good minute trying to devise a telepathic plan. For you to only shove him back and take off you scattered so fast that you nearly tripped over your own two feet. “Oh, you’re so dead, L/n!” Steve’s voice boomed from your sad excuse of a head start. You were never so scared in your life. From everyone else, and the six-foot man on your ass. You heaved, your face surely showed how much shit you knew was going to unfold. The burn in your legs was probably the most torturous thing you’ve felt in a while, and that’s saying something. You could see the big truck that had the U.S. flag stitched into it, telling people who stumbled across the land who they stood for. And right now pain stood for you. You could smell the grub, food mashed into other food that shouldn’t be mixed.

They said it was to get all your proteins in one meal. It tasted well, it didn’t have a taste. The thing/things that were motivating you to finish was one Steve, who was the scariest thing out of a horror film. His perfect posture speeding towards you in mere seconds he could catch up. Yet, you thought just a glimmer of hope he would have mercy on you, pat you on the back and say that was a good match. Another part of you knew that wouldn’t happen. The other thing was the perfectly tied huge men that would beat your ass, knowing or not who you truly are. Your leg began to cramp when you were merely a few feet away from the truck. Your posture slacked into the one before, trying to regain whatever breath you’d muster to have before.

You were practically bathing in your own filth and sweat, what didn’t help was the two hundred plus pound man who rammed himself into your back. You were doing so well acting as if you were a man and a force to not be fucked with until this moment. Until he tackled you and you shrieked the highest pitch known to man, and all he did was let out a gruff and deep; ‘hmph’’ as he landed on the hard ground. But you were satisfied to know you fell on top of him, which softened your fall. You were shocked when he held onto you as you did, making sure you didn’t hit the ground. He took the fall for you this time. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as he seemed to be.

Your moment had to be ruined whenever you turned to get off the man cushion. Only to your somewhat dismay, you came face to face with him, his nose brushed against yours. And you froze. Oh god, this was it, the end. The end of your career. He was a glorious sight you did have to say. His eyes were half-lidded, and his mouth parted and breathed against your own. You could’ve sworn you had seen his still darkened orbs dart to your lips, his hands still and didn’t dare to move as they rested above your ass but low on your back.

His urges had to be held on the back burner for now, still wanting to be the gentleman he claims to be. You were surprised by how big they were when they had enveloped the most of your back. If you weren’t burning before, you were on fire by now, your cheeks were bright as they could ever be. While his were tanned with the sun from being out for so long and the freckles you never knew he had been coming out. The seem to be dried blood that was previously captured in his lips was now gone, maybe from the unbearable sweat. Your heart pounded and you weren’t sure he could feel it from the bandages but you were sure he could if he paid close enough attention. “Did you really think you could get away from me, by saying something like that?”

His voice rumbled as the words came up from deep inside him, and it shook your body as it did. To say that you were freaking out was putting the word to shame. You couldn’t make any words come to mind but the thoughts seemed to run faster as you diverted your eyes. You oh so desperately wanted to hide, but to where? And where was everyone? surely someone was going to see the both of you. You didn’t see his eyes running over your face taking you in as you were flustered. You were radiant in every way of the word. He didn’t care who saw or what would happen, but your striking beauty was unmatched by anything he’d ever seen in his years on earth. Not a single girl, Bucky had attempted to set him up with could be compared to you, and tonight, he was going to admit what he knew.

Later into the night dusk creeping to, and the boys became wild as it grew on. It may be the fact that once a month they would smuggle some liquor in to ease the pain. You sipped yours respectfully, drinking your part away along with your sobriety. You and at least ten men were gathered around a small makeshift bonfire, most sat crisscrossed. Some laid back and watched the stars gleam, some’s legs spread out a boot touching in another’s which resulted in a fight. The intoxicating drink running through your veins laughed when someone had gotten elbowed in the face by accident. It reminded you of what happened with Steve and made his nose bleed by a complete accident. The man of the night was nowhere to be found; which was odd. He usually played into the madness. Was what happened prior, messing with him as it did you? and then the- your heart stuttered as your brain remembered how close his lips were, how if you let your head go lazy you’d surely kiss him.

Your fingertips brushed against your tingling lips as you reminisce. A game had broken out, it was a weird version of truth or dare. They were going around the circle asking truths and if they didn’t want to answer they would have to piss in a cup, and you wanted to revolt at that but then it got worse. When the cup was filled and you didn’t want to answer you’d have to drink. You regretted every single action you made that led you here, being sent home didn’t sound as bad as it seemed anymore. The game was thought of as gold to them, entertainment as the girls came on whenever Captain America gave a speech. Although you were watching your friend in those tight latex pants that hadn’t hidden anything, and left nothing to the imagination. You didn’t mind it not one bit.

Until now, the mason jar wasn’t as nearly as filled up as you thought it would be. You supposed that the off brew loosened the tongue making them spill their guts. You just hoped they wouldn’t ask anything too gnarly for you to not be able to answer. How were you going to be able to not answer? You are fucked from the go. You sighed your empty cup dangling from your fingertips as the fire in the middle of all of you licked at the sky. The night was cold but then fun was gold, hey! That rhymed you chuckled at that. Shit. “Hey! L/n, the hell you doin?!” One of the men behind the fire screeched. His voice was destroyed from only drinking the brown liquid that he’ll soon regret in the morning. You soon realized that the now yellow midway filled mason jar was now in front of you. “I asked you a question,” the same man scolded you while he licked his bottom lip, a smirk evolving. All eyes were on you awaiting your reply, and he would be attractive if he wasn’t such a jerk. Your eyebrows pinched since you never heard such a thing “What?” You asked, your voice sounded more unsure then you’d like it to be. A man near you elbowed your arm and repeated the question, his eyes never leaving the flame, which you wished would eat you whole.

“He asked what you were doing with Rogers earlier today.” He said in a whisper maybe he also had similar regrets as you. His form went back to where it peacefully sat before, meanwhile, you couldn't become comfortable. I mean how could you, being asked about being caught with your friend with what seemed to be benefits. Your body shriveled up and you wanted to throw up when he said the next thing. "You're a fag, aren't ya?" he proposed and started to laugh at his cruel intention of a joke, a few joined in with his uproarious laugh. You were cornered in a room full of wolves, and you happened to be the pig and they were starving. You wondered if anyone would come to your funeral. Maybe golden boy Steve would speak at it, put you to your now soiled home. What a wonderful life. "Excuse me?" your voice raised in pitch from how astonished you are from his assumption. it only worsened your problem as he pointed a fat finger your way "That! your voice, only sissies have such girly voices."

He sneered elbowing one of the boys and nodded to get his point across and of course he agreed, he was the ringmaster of this shit show. You felt your eye twitch from how ignorant this grown man child is, you were proud of yourself from not him out cold. The fire was parting just enough for you to be able to see his eye glare at you on the other side. You could see the cogs turning in his head to make another snide comment, the banter and you being the butt of everyone's joke was nothing new. So you knew how to not let them see how deep they're cutting their initials in your heart, but it didn't hurt any less. Your composure was fading with the next comment he twisted around your neck, making you unable to breathe. "Quit being a pussy and answer the question, or whip it out and piss."

He stopped as he thought of something crueler than before, how he could top the damage he'd done was beyond you. "Or you will be addressed as a coward because that is all you truly are," his lips now twisted into a full-blown smile as others chanted and rooted for him to go on. You were done, this was complete and utter bullshit. "You know what, fuck you." you grumbled out as you stood up dusting yourself off as you did. "And you're stupid idiotic of a game." You booted the jar into the fire which made it fuel more. Groans and protests were all you heard when you carried your way to your shared fort. You ran your hands through your short kept hair, you didn't deserve any of the shit they gave you. Your fort was a few minutes of a walk from where they were having their fun, you decided you weren't ever going to try and fit in from this day on. Christ, you wished you could go back into the past and bash his face in.

The croaks of the frogs and the chirps of the crickets and birds you grew fond of, they relaxed you in the best way. It was mother nature's music and it was a magnificent sound, almost as magnificent and shitty surprise you found on your cot. His legs crossed over one another as he hovered into the lamp's glow of light, sketching away on the notebook you gave him whenever you got to visit back home. Your family's relationship with you was complicated, in the simple way of them thinking you were an abomination of your courage. You smirked as you watched his face, his bottom lip tucked between those perfectly pearly white teeth. His now returned bright blue eyes narrowed, his jaw was clenched, down enough that he bit down on his reddened lip.

His wrist flicking across the page, the makeshift pencil he kept with him since they were hard to come by was quickly becoming little under his skill crafted fingers, ones that were long and burly, the beds of his fingernails were always bitten or picked. From the constant stress that was continuously placed onto him, but what a sight it was. Suddenly, you were happy at the fact of the shitty game making your shared fort, yours and his for a little while. You felt like you were watching something you shouldn't, but I mean that is your bed that he is so carefully perched upon. After very careful debate, you decided to make your entrance known. "I would knock, but you know there's not really any doors to do so," You smiled, and he chuckled at your attempt of a joke in your sour mood. Not looking up from his page he continued in your charades "Although, I prefer your way of an entrance," His structured, muscular wrist went upwards on the page, you were intrigued as to what he chose to create.

You peered over the lamp only to see his huge arm cover the page, the lamps heat suffocating in the tent. He narrowed his eyes at you, the blue in his eyes being accentuated in the lamp's small fire. His body became rigid and protective over his art, you raised your hands in the air telling him you mean no harm. "It's not finished yet. No sneak peeks." He said quietly as he finally sat up his long legs falling on the side of the bed facing you. He patted the side, wanting you to join him on the mattress of your cot. Your body betrayed you as you quickly kicked your boots off, relieving your feet from how uncomfortable they are. When you sat on the bed he became less rigid and more comfortable then he was before. You let the purity of his aroma soak in, it always made you feel warm and fuzzy.

You wondered if it did the same to him, however, you still felt as if it would be impossible for him to reciprocate the feelings as they stood too strong for their own good. You felt powerless whenever he was near, it was stupid to think that you were the chosen one. Every woman he ever encountered most likely felt the same as you. You shook your head this was childish and you felt like one of the men in the circle. The self-doubt only encouraged the self-hatred that licked itself ugly head in the way you felt. You were distraught to the point of where the only thing that took you out of your head. Was his calloused hand, the years of war and fighting taking a toll physically and mentally as he fought the good fight. His thumb coming to rest on your cheek rubbing back and forth trying to soothe your discomfort, his head was tilted in a sympathetic manner. As his eyes darted around your face trying to discover why you are acting in such a way.

A wordless discussion between both of you, he didn't dare ask but you saw the hatred in his eye as he realized what the possibility was. His jaw clenched more cutting then it had before as he got up from where you were and walked out of the fort never saying a word. You only ever saw Steve angry when it was involving politics, it always annoyed him because he couldn't go anyway without being recognized. The only person he valued being recognized, was you. But you were too stubborn to get that. You wrung your hands as anxiety took you, why did he leave, why was he in your cot, the questions that screamed in your head always began with why. You become exhausted, your body aching to stop and your brain pleading you to calm your thoughts. You fell onto your back although it was uncomfortable from something pinching your neck.

What the hell? Could anything go your way just for two minutes? You raised your hand behind you to retrieve the thorn, only to find that it was Steve's notebook. It was still opened to the drawing he was creating, as you flipped onto your stomach to get a better look. The drawing he drew gawked you dead in the face. His model took your breath away but at the same time, you felt like you were hyperventilating. It was you. It was realistic as it could ever be done with a pencil, your hair was grown out as it grazed along your jaw in a short bob. You were wearing a pin-up dress, mid twirl. There was not one detail done wrong, your face as if it was looking into a mirror, your heart pounded into your chest. Your eyes couldn't believe what they were seeing, your fingers traced over the lines he drew, it was too beautiful for it to be you.

Your fingers trailed to the side of the page and you flipped it to another, and to your shock, it was another drawing of you. This simply could not be so you turned another and it was a different drawing, but it was one of you modeling in a skimpy bathing suit. Your cheeks burned all the way up to the tips of your ears, you were wearing nearly next to nothing as you winked at the real you. Although it was scandalous, you are still being the main focus of it all. After a few pages, you came to realize it was filled with drawings of you. Different poses, different expressions all involving. You. Being shocked and feeling proud that he had thought of you and analyzed you to the point where he understood your body more than you could ever. You smiled and you remembered every time you would see him sketching, he would always have that dorky look on his face.

You always found it amusing. But now you could never think of it amusing since you knew what he was sculpting. God played a cruel trick when Steve came back and caught you looking through his notebook, although he was happy you knew but not in this way. He beamed a smile showing the great whites, "I didn't mean for you to find out this way, Darlin,'" He started and swallowed his Adam's apple bobbing. His bloodied hands, his knuckles cut wide and bruised, yet they became clammy as he gained nervousness. It felt like he was back in middle school afraid of asking his crush out. You jumped at the sound of his voice "You-!" your sudden movement caused you to fall off the small cot. You fell on your back, being winded. "Dammit, Steve you need a bell!" you scolded him for once again scaring the shit out of you. He wiped his hands onto his undershirt to make him forget about you to stop him from laughing. Even though you were his best friend and got injured he did have to say it was comical.

After he decided that his knuckles are going to continue to bleed even if he tried to stop it. He turned around to find you laid flat on your back staring at the top of the fort, he admired you from this angle how your body curved and distributed. God, he could feel his mouth water from just that, until you had to ruin it. He knew you were being salty but he still never wanted to hear that come out of your mouth ever again. "I hate you." You said with a groan. "Ouch, sweetheart," as he crouched down and picked you up with no struggle once so ever as he placed you on your bed. His face near inches away, he made himself a little place where he sat by you leaning over you. His forehead pressed against yours as he leaned down to what you thought was going to be a kiss until he pulled back to your dismay. "Doll, I have to say I know about everything."

He pushed a hand to his hair pushing away the stray golden locks that fell. Was this good, was this bad. Did he betray you by knowing? More importantly, how did he know? You panicked and sat up "I can explain I swear, I'm not exactly sure how you figured it out bu-" He stopped you before you could explain yourself, he didn't look disappointed rather pleased. "You don't have to," He turned his head and placed a hand onto your cheek as he did before, "You've seen my drawings, right?" You nodded when he jutted his head to where the notebook was discarded and forgotten about. His eyes never leaving your face, his pupils dilating as they did, the blue around them darkened. "I've only known you for some time, although I cherish every second I get with you. I can't seem to get enough, darling and it's purely intoxicating me." His voice grew deeper as his thumb rested on your bottom lip, running over the soft skin plumped.

Making him what you thought was a groan when it popped back in its place when he let go. His still reddened as a plum as his teeth nipped at them every now and then. You felt like you had died and gone to heaven from his confessions, your heart was in your throat as he continued. "You might be wondering how eery they are, and I do have to admit. My mind often falls to thinking of you, every day for months ever since I had met you." He seemed to be closer then he was when you fell onto him although you may be wrong with the amount of fog running through your brain, your eyelids began to lazily droop. "Those men, well, boys want a piece they know about you. Everyone does but I swore to kill every one of them if someone told the commander." You were astonished from his power, making you have an out from being exposed.

Hell, was it too late to say you are head over heels for this man? "From the first day I laid my eyes on you I knew I would do anything for you." His lips hovering over yours his breath tingling your lips making the itch to make them touch become unbearable. His hand wrapped around the side of your neck, his thumb coming up to trace the bone of your jaw. It seemed like every touch is delicate, every touch he placed on your skin was strategic. Every touch he wanted to savor and remember, "From that day on, I knew I loved you," You couldn't help the gasp that left you. He loved you. Captain America. Steven fucking Rogers. Your best friend. Loved you. You wondered what in the hell had caused this but you were not going to deny the possibility. You were freaking out doing back flips in your head, you fought against the other thoughts that warned you that this could potentially cause damage but fuck it.

You moved your head to the side and kissed him, you felt him smirk slightly breaking the gesture, His big hands grabbed onto your clothed hips and pulled you onto his lap, your legs going either side of his brawny thighs. Your hands running into his golden hair pulling and tugging as he pulled you closer chest to chest, the warm soothing skin of his arms against yours as he tightened his hold. Making sure to not let you fall, wanting you closer but knowing it isn’t humanly possible to against his wishes. Although your heart was beating as fast as a freight train.

His lips were surprisingly softer than you imagined, soft like a newborn's skin, untouched to the world. You were glad you are the one to defile them, his were slightly pouter and overlapping yours which made them a bit bigger then they were alone then when they slotted over yours. Big, the only word that perfectly fit Steve no matter what you were talking about. His teeth latched onto your bottom lip he pulled back and it popped back as it did before. "Holy, shit." You panted his kiss taking the literal breath out of you, his hands slid down and grabbed your ass. You jumped in response which made him laugh. His sharp teeth glimmering with the dim of light, he looked like trouble more then he was good. "Language, sweetheart." His voice hoarse as he growled the words, making your stomach melt, everywhere felt warm as if you'd been bitten by fire ants. His chin placed on your shoulder, as your hands rested on his.

He turned his head his breath fanning the side of your neck where his hand had been "You taste absolutely divine, by the way." He nibbled your ear and moved back to where he originally was. Who knew Steve Rogers could be dirty? You smirked when an idea popped into your mind when you figured out how you can get back at him. "And you, my good sir are ridiculously comfortable." you tried to get the most sultry voice you could summon, as you grounded your hips against his. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared you down, making you feel even smaller than you were in his huge arms. He whirled your body down which made you feel like your were a rag doll and laid his weight onto you, the only thing holding him up was his forearms. You were under his complete and utter control, he shoved his face into your neck and started to nip and bite at it leaving red splotches everywhere and anywhere in his wake, he kissed you to your ear and grumbled out. "You're in for it." The things he did with you would even make Satan blush and shield his eyes. And from that night on, Steve never left your side, unless you begged him to.

#steve rogers #captain america #marvel #fanfic #xreader #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader fluff #so much fluff #a lil angsty #its cute tho #Angst with a happy ending #cute butt #Cute but deadly #captain america x reader

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doomedandstoned · 1 year

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Dublin Bass & Drum Duo TRUE HOME Drop Meditative Doom Record ‘Black Lotus’

~Doomed and Stoned~

By Billy Goate

There aren't a whole lot of bass and drum acts out there. Bell Witch, Big Business, Bardo, and Behoover come to mind (strangely, the majority of bass-led bands also choose names that begin with the letter "B"). What may not be as tough to pull off when tempos are swift, becomes a challenge when everything slows down to a doom's pace. And you want to strip the band of its (arguably) most popular instrument?

That's at least how the heavy underground felt until OM came along and blew our minds with the advent of Meditative Doom, sans guitar. Other bands have followed in those footsteps, including Zaum from New Brunswick and Breath from Oregon. Now from Dublin, Ireland comes bass & drum duo TRUE HOME with their own take on meditative doom in 'Black Lotus' (2023).

True Home's most accessible song is placed first on the album, "The Cry of the Mountain Hawk," featuring a slithering stoner-doom riff that sounds like a royalty fuzzified Tool. Vocals are droning and clean, not too distantly removed from Reverend Bizarre, and share a kinship with Sleep frontman Al Cisneros. This one's got a chorus that I'll probably find myself singing whilst making breakfast or taking out the trash. It's just something I do.

Beneath each song is the lulling sitaresque tone produced by programmed synth. It grounds us to the experience and becomes more and more comforting with eath encounter. "The Great Journey" takes a bluesy, jazzy, off-beat approach to Gregorian Chant, at least until things get electrified to work out all that nervous energy -- with irradiated noodling that rivals Swamp Ritual.

The intensity ramps up even more for "Sailing The Sand Dunes," in which the bass moves with big, sweeping gestures and stays busy as hell trying to keep the barge moving over barren Saharan hills and flats. This is the one, I'm sure, that'll get people headbanging at concerts.

The last two songs on the album usher us deeper into a realm of tranced-out introspection, with the mysterious, hazy, and hypnotic "Buddham Sagnahram Gachami" and the near 20-minute transcendental colossus, "Ascension Of The Astralnaut," featuring spoken word passages that serve perhaps to guide the listener into a state of general meditativeness.

The record is ideal for Cursed Monk Records, who specialize in dark musical esoterica. "The darker, weirder, and heavier the better," their motto goes. True Home's Black Lotus will be released on May 26th on compact disc and digital formats (pre-order here).

After suffering a dreadful bout with COVID (the Delta strain) in 2021, psychedelic, meditative doom was key to my mental, physical, and spiritual recovery. I'm pleased to have another band enter the fold. Stick True Home on a playlist with OM, Bong, Zaum, Breath, Saturnalia Temple, and Megalith Levitation.

Give ear...

Black Lotus by True Home

SOME BUZZ

Photographs by Shane J. Horan

True Home is a Dublin Based Psychedelic Meditative Doom Metal two piece. Featuring Declan Beare on Bass/Vocals, and Charlie Appleby on Drums and percussion.

The Bass and Drum combo balance between transcendent meditations and earth shattering heavy riffs.

For two people they move a serious amount of air at bone crushing volumes, helped by the droning modular synth providing a continuous atmosphere to get lost in.

Their 3rd studio album "Black Lotus" comes out on CD and Digital Download May 23rd via Cursed Monk Records.

Follow The Band

Get Their Music

#D&S Debuts #True Home #Dublin #Ireland #doom metal #bass & drum #Cursed Monk Records #D&S Reviews #Doomed and Stoned

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fallen029 · 4 years

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Alone

It felt like one of the days that would be ruined, somehow.

They always were, after all.

No matter their care to detail, their amount of planning, something always seemed to ruin these sorts of nights for Laxus and Mirajane.

One of her siblings would rush into the house or his apartment, maybe her sister, sobbing over something with the Salamander or the like. Elfman, even, might barge in, yelling about Evergreen or whatever other troubles were keeping him that day. Sometimes, maybe, the pair of them would just come in and disturb things for no honest reason. Not even because they disliked their sister with Laxus. No. Just for no reason at all.

The Thunder Legion could be much the same.

Bickslow was a whirlwind of emotions that he seemed to require the attention of Mirajane and Laxus to sort through which made no damn sense, to the latter, as he'd never required such thing, but it was different now. Boss. Bickslow would insist. Now, the Laxus Dreyar wasn't some untouchable entity, but rather the loving and adoring boyfriend of Mirajane Strauss and who better to go to life advice for, than such a powerful, influential couple?

His exaggerated claims were perhaps the sole reason Laxus tolerated this.

But it wasn't like the other two weren't known to ruin things as well. Freed had a penchant for worrying perhaps a bit too much, were Laxus and Mirajane to be gone too long, while Evergreen saw it as only natural that she would drop by, frequently, because Elfman was dropping by frequently, and she was not going to allow him to poison them on her, oh no, not before she could poison them on him!

It was just hard.

To be alone.

Just the dragon and demon.

Outside of even her guild duties and his natural inclination for distanced jobs, they were just constantly being pulled in opposite directions and sometimes it felt like...like…

Maybe they didn't belong together.

That they were too different, that their life paths, their desires, didn't align enough, and they were never going to get everything just right.

But that couldn't be so, both Mirajane and Laxus knew, that night as his smile looked its most natural and her blue eyes shimmered, alight from the candles in the center of the table.

"I keep thinking," Mirajane remarked with a soft smile of her own, watching the slayer fill the wine glass before her at the table, "that someone's going to rush in. And ruin this."

"Not tonight, demon," Laxus insisted as, after filling his own glass, he moved to take claim the seat across from the woman. "It's just me and you. The whole night."

She still found that unlikely, but was always one to play into flights of fancy and if it was all going to end sooner or later, she hoped to spend as long as possible in the fantasy. The wine was sweet on her tongue and the dinner she'd cooked for them, seared meat and steamed vegetables, smelled delightful. It wasn't often that she got a day off and, when she was gifted one, it would hardly be her first choice to spend the majority of it in the kitchen, but to be sitting there then, for an early dinner on such an important night with her dragon, well, Mirajane was surely enjoying herself.

"It's our anniversary," Laxus continued after taking a swig from his own glass. A hard glint in his eye, he assured the woman, "I wouldn't let them ruin it."

"This," Mirajane added, "time."

Because it was hardly their first anniversary. It had now officially been five years of steady dating for the two. There'd been many important dates, nearly all ruined, but that was especially true of all their anniversaries. Whether marred by her well-meaning siblings, his knucklehead followers, or even just one of the other dimwits their guild association kept them in steady contact with, if it was important to the pair, then surely, someone would find a way to ruin it.

It had a certain charm to it. Maybe. Routine. Wash and rinse. They could hardly ever be alone, between his long sabbaticals and her jobs, but when they were, some hilarious situation would present itself and they'd have to sigh, knowing that this was merely the comedic timing was surely a blessing. Surely.

What was the alternative?

That her siblings, his friends, their associates were all attempting to break them up? Over the course of so much time? No way. That felt impossible. They'd become something of a staple, in recent times, and most everyone knew they were more than just the occasional date.

The universe then?

Perhaps cosmic justice?

For the two of them to be together, to belong together, in certain ways felt far too backwards and impossible, doomed from the start. Working mages weren't known for stable relationships. It was a hard life for the normal man, but for one of the recognition and stature of Laxus, well…

Mirajane wasn't nearly as foolish as she pretended. She worked in a guild that had seen the failure of many relationships. She'd bared witness to exactly where, if she and Laxus weren't careful, they'd end up.

And yet…

If it was all some sort of cosmic warning, an attempt at allowing them to avoid something far worse, then she rejected it. And she was certain her boyfriend did as well. If they were destined for flames, then the best they could due was suit up for the occasion. Leaving one another now felt far too messy, far too painful, and not at all what either of them desired.

Laxus frequently promised her, after all, that between the two of them, they would eventually get every single thing either's heart desired. He swore it. Two of the most powerful mages in the world? What the fuck couldn't they have?

A night alone, usually, but as dinner wore on and Mira found Laxus' eyes the only hers could find, it almost felt too picturesque. Like it was waiting to be ripped away from them at any time. As she lost herself more into her drink (and her dragon), she found herself allowing the night to truly sweep them up and it all felt like it was ending too soon.

"Dishes tomorrow," Laxus insisted up one of the most cardinal of sins and he could see the hesitance in the woman's eye, but he only tugged at her arm, as they rose from the table. "C'mon."

They spent a good hour, time that neither usually had, just sitting around in the slayer's living room, him smoking a cigar while she shifted through his extensive music collection, looking for the perfect thing for the lacrima. Then they shared the rest of the bottle, the woman full of giggles now and his grin was far easy to come by, and it was a nice night.

The best night, even, maybe, Mira thought, as it ended predictably, but also exactly when it needed to, as her eyes felt heavy and the morning was soon upon them, maybe, yet they were still alone.

They were still alone.

Just the two of them.

Mirajane thought she had too much to drink, especially knowing how much work she'd have to do the next morning after being off and entire day, but when she and Laxus found themselves settling, truly, into bed, she was also aware that it would give her the best dreams.

But it was difficult to drift off.

She and Laxus lay facing one another, not completely unusual for them, but while she huddled under the blankets, he only reached out to rest one hand on her cheek, gently stroking her soft, pale skin,.

"Tonight was perfect," he stated. Not questioned, no wondering, just informing her. Conferring. To make sure they were on the same page. "Happy anniversary."

"Are you gonna tell me how you did it?" she questioned. "Got the others to leave us completely alone?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"Your sister naturally is out on a job, your brother's been training most days so wouldn't be around the bar, which means neither would notice you taking the night off," he explained. "And I just told the Thunder Legion I had plans. Nothing else. Just wanted to be alone."

"Okay, but-"

"I didn't freak out," he went on, "about our anniversary. About getting the perfect gift or planning the perfect date. They seem to almost have forgotten about it, since I haven't brought it up. Which means your siblings, my friends, no one in the guild really knows it's our anniversary. Which means they won't bother us."

"I don't follow," she said with a gentle shake of her head.

"It's weird," he agreed, "But I think they all just subconsciously bother us when they know that we're busy. They can't help themselves. But if we don't let on to it-"

"You're evil," she teased, but he only grinned.

"I wanted you tonight," he explained, as if there was even a chance that she didn't understand that, didn't feel that exact same thing. "Only you."

Mira smiled sleepily at him and Laxus, after looking to pleased for the majority of the evening, suddenly had a cross look fall over his face. Recognizing it, Mira was just about to yawn through questioning what it was that was bothering him when the man shifted his forehead closer to rest on hers.

"I didn't want to do this today," he began and she almost pulled away, confused by the fact his tone seemed so intense when it hadn't been that way, at all, recently, "but-"

"Laxus-"

"Mira, I..."

And they both held their breath for a moment, Laxus knowing where he next words were intended to take him while the woman was completely in the dark. Or at least it felt that way. But as he nuzzled his forehead against her own, she felt foolish for feeling that way, especially as his next words fell from his mouth.

"I love you," he told her simply then, hardly any sort of shocking statement, given their lengthy relationship, but something about the way he spoke made her heart flutter, blinking into his dark eyes. His stilled against her cheek as he added, "More than I ever have anything. In my entire life. And… I want it to always be like this. With me and you. But I also know it can't be. That it has to be the way it usually is. With your brother and sister or our friends and it'll only get worse, probably, all the stress and hi-jinks, the further into this we go, I know it will, but fuck, Mirajane, recently I just… I always told myself that I was waiting for the right moment. For it all to come together perfectly. But every time I tried to put something together, either with your siblings help or without, or with the Thunder Legions assistance or without, it always falls apart and the moment has been right. I've had this damn ring on my person on five separate occassions across three years and each time-"

"Laxus." Her hand came up to grip the wrist of the woman he held her cheek with. "Are you-"

"Mirajane." He pulled back some, so they could both stare into one another's eyes perfectly. "Will you marry me?"

She laughed, once, but it sounded a bit strangled, forcing herself to sit up as she nodded her head, eyes welling with tears, happy ones, the slayer hoped, and he laughed, shoving up as well.

"Oh, the ring!" Mirajane jumped out of bed then, rushing over to a specific drawer in Laxus' half of the dresser, to retrieve it. "Where-"

"Uh, demon." And Laxus lost some of his joy, just sitting there now, incredulous as she easily pulled the sleek, little black box from where he'd hidden it under old underwear. "What are you doing?"

"What? Getting my ring, Laxus. What else-"

"How long," he questioned then as he rose as well, frowning, "have you know about it? And where it was? Mira-"

"Oh, Laxus, come on. I put your laundry away, silly." Then, cheeks flush, she tossed a hand and added, "Plus I'm just a snoop."

"Mirajane-"

"I've known every single time you were going to propose."

"Bullshit."

"The first time was right after you bought the ring," she took over then as she just held the box, closed, while addressing her dragon. "And you were going to have a big party and propose in front of all our friends, but then Lisanna and Evergreen were fighting about something and it caused a big blow up fight at the party and you chickened out. And then the next time, you took me on that surprise trip, up to that cabin, I guess to propose all alone, but Freed and Bickslow and Ever coudln't let that happen, much less Elfman and Lisanna when they found out about it, so they all teamed up to make sure they were at least there for it, even if they were visible, but they were visible everything became so hectic and-"

"Mira." Laxus reached out to take the box from her then, clutching it tightly as he asked, "If you knew that I was going to propose, but never had, for multiple years…. Then why did you stay with me?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"If I thought someone was going to take something to the next step with me," he remarked with a heavy frown, "but they didn't go through with it every single time they were going to, I'd give up. Or at least I'd think a woman would. But you-"

"Staying in a relationship for five years, with no signs of a proposal, wouldda been a lotta work too," she pointed out. "And you thought I did that."

"Fine." He stood with a heavy look before her. "Then why did you do either?"

"Because I love you," she told him simply though, just as quickly, she was tapping a finger against her lip as she thought. "And I think, at least a little bit, that I wanted it too. That perfect proposal. That I could tell everyone about and shove in all the others faces."

"Uh-"

"But…" She sighed some, shaking her head. "I think I like this better. Just me and you. And only me and you. Sometimes, these past few years, it's felt like maybe...we weren't going to figure it out."

"Demon, I-"

"It's not your fault," she assured the man. "You're a mage. It's what you are. And a good one. I like that. I would never want to take that away."

"I don't want to take anything from you either," he was quick to say. "The bar is your life. I get that. And you do so much better than I do, making time for me."

"Dragon-"

"You do. You're the only person in my life that has ever gotten it. Truly gotten it. All of it." He took a step forwards then before kneeling, on one knee, and Mirajane bounced some, excitedly, as he flipped the top of the box open, present to her a ring that she'd more than tried on and examined in the time it had been in the man's possession. "Mirajane, will you marry me?"

"Yes, dragon, of course." And she snatched it from him then, the box, but Laxus was bounding up to take it back, a look on his face while she only giggled. Snagging the ring from where it sat, he moved to slip it on the appropriate slender finger, and Mirajane had never seen it before. In this light. With this meaning. This certainty. Softly, she assured him, "This is all I've ever wanted."

It wasn't quite. And he knew that. Mirajane liked big and elaborate. Special. Nothing was special about getting engaged in your bedroom at ten at night. It felt cheap and Laxus worried that, maybe, she might even resent that he hadn't gone through with the engagement, all those other times he had the chance, all those other big moments when he'd been able to give her the exact kind of story she'd always wanted, but as the woman's eyes came up from the engagement ring's diamond, they were alight, catching his own.

"Happy anniversary, Lax," she whispered as she reached out to wrap an arm around his neck, pulling him down some.

Allowing this, the slayer pressed a kiss first to her cheek before to her lips. And, when he pulled away, he was sure to add, "Happy anniversary, Mirajane."

#Miraxus #Mirajane Strauss #Laxus Dreyar #Laxus #Mirajane #Miraxus Day 2020

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seulgiswhoreee · 3 years

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collab works

this is everything i have ever written or will ever write in regards to collabs, to be updated with every new change <33

format:

member

title of collab (collab link) - title of fic / plot

teaser link | fic link

Taeil

Crimes Through Neo City {Canceled} - All You Can Do Is Run / "Wanna tell me why you keep running from your problems? From him? And while we're at it, explain to him why you packed up and left that day.", "All I can do is run, you know that."

teaser | fic

Hide If You Can - 3, 2, 1, run! (original ik) / "If we're going to be teaming up and surviving together, let's hope you can shoot a gun."

teaser | fic

Hiraeth - greedy / in which you slowly find yourself greedy for more of famous CEO Moon's son, Taeil, touch.

teaser | fic

Johnny

Aether - mirrors / Everything is not what it seems.

teaser | fic

The Music Shop - Looking 4 Myself / Johnny's journey to finding himself, and in retrospect, you.

teaser | fic

Yuta

Traepmora Academy - causa perdida / in which professor'sson!yuta is forced to tutor you and learns what it's like to be a celebrity's daughter, always in the spotlight, always under pressure, he regrets thinking you were a lost cause.

teaser | fic

Kun

Kokuhaku - hit reset / in which kun gets a heavy feeling of deja vu.

teaser | fic

Doyoung

Twisted Eras - Who is in control? / "See you on the other side."

teaser | fic

Jaehyun

Party Time - intoxicated / in which you and jaehyun have a bad habit of only loving each other when intoxicated.

teaser | fic

The Story Of Us - the story that never seemed to end / the story of y/n and jaehyun, the story that never seemed to end, literally.

teaser | fic

Wish We Could Turn Back Time - cotton club affairs / in which jaehyun longs for something more than just your cotton club affairs

teaser | fic

Write Your Own Story - powerful / From the very first time we loved, from the very first time we touched; the stroke of your fingers, the scent of you lingers. It burns like a fire, electricity, when you're close I feel the sparks. When you hold me, when you touch me. It's so powerful.

teaser | fic

Winwin

Like A Dream {Canceled} - the moon & stars / As we sat, silence slowly loomed over us with only the bright moon and twinkling stars to accompany us. And as I locked eyes with him, I knew I was doomed.

teaser | fic

Jungwoo

Lights! Camera! Action! {Canceled} - side character / in which you are the side character in an uprising k-drama starring your crush, jungwoo, and his crush.

teaser | fic

Lucas

All Monsters Are Human {Canceled} - crazy in love / "Did you do it..?", "I did it for love.. for you." His grin widens, he must be crazy.

teaser | fic

Mark

Do You Like Scary Movies? - 13 Cameras / in which someone plants 13 cameras in your house to learn your routine, which ultimately helps in your demise. (loosely based on the movie 13 Cameras but executed differently - would now be a good time to say that i haven't watched that movie in years.)

teaser | fic

Enter: Doom - The Last Option: Gate 11 / in which you have no clue that the world is literally ending and when you do get a clue, you regret not spending every waking moment with the love of your life.

teaser | fic

Superstition Made Me Afraid To Love - chopsticks, chop this / you feel silly to be avoiding mark lee and his love just because of vertically standing chopsticks.

teaser | fic

The Language Of Thorns - unbreak my heart / "oh so you can physically heal wounds but you won't heal my heart?"

teaser | fic

What Lurks In The Dark - poison / stay home with your boring parents or be at a party all weekend with the people in school who used to pick on you, pick your poison.

teaser | fic

Write Your Own Story - guns and knives / the guns and knives are the only thing keeping you from loving mark.

teaser | fic

Hendery

The Thrill Of It All - cotton candy and funnel cakes / your first date with your highschool crush, hendery.

teaser | fic

Renjun

Remember Me For All Centuries - runaways, strays / “Let’s run away together, baby.”

teaser | fic

Jeno

The Lakes - my tears ricochet / my favorite things about you.

teaser | fic

Unsolved - be my bride, till the end of time / welcome to the best and worst 8 days of jeno's life

teaser | fic

Haechan

Lies - bad liar / "your lies can't save you now, you're trapped in them."

teaser | fic

Phantom Of The Opera - want, need, desire / in which donghyuck desires you in ways that scare you.

teaser | fic

The Dark Room - carried away / in which donghyuck gets carried away with his lovin'

teaser | fic

Olympus Is Falling - please, take me home / in which you literally are the goddess sent from heaven to brighten donghyuck's life.

teaser | fic

Jaemin

23 Ways To Fall In Love - beginning, middle, end / The story of you and Jaemin is like a rollercoaster. Bumpy, smooth, high, low, and everything in between but it all starts when you spot Jaemin on the other side of the cafeteria cozying up with the most popular girl in school and your feelings for him start to uncover. Will your newfound and obvious crush on Jaemin catch his attention or is there more to the story?

teaser | fic

Sleep Paralysis - the expressionless / in which you interview and charm a doctor who did the workup for who he thought was the expressionless woman.

teaser | fic

Open Ending - edge of a cliff / loving jaemin is like a cliff. you would haul yourself off of it as soon as you got close enough, letting yourself blissfully fall thinking you would have someone to catch you. loving you is easy. all he has to do is stand there and catch you in his arms, give you the world you deserve. but then why does it feel like such a burdened task?

teaser | fic

Yangyang

Let’s Fake It - dance with me / So move me, baby, shake like the bough of a willow tree.

teaser | fic

Shotaro

Aristocracy - i hate you, i love you / in which you get arranged to marry the one person you hate with all of your life.

teaser | fic

Avenoir - soulmates in crime / you expected to meet your soulmate in a sweet romantic way, like meeting in the coffee shop near your house, eyes turning gold to indicate that this is the person you're destined to love. you certainly did not expect to meet your soulmate during a bank heist, eyes turning gold as you bleed out next to him, bullet wound almost penetrating your left kidney. your soulmate didn't expect to meet his soulmate in this situation either, and he certainly didn't expect you to come back to life after bleeding out in his arms.

teaser | fic

Chenle

Love On The Workfield - like romeo & juliet / "like romeo and juliet, forbidden but forever."

teaser | fic

Jisung

No Promises - promises are meant to be broken / jisung breaks the one promise that kept you sane.

teaser | fic

Strawberries & Cigarettes - kiss me silly / it hurts to hate jisung as much as you do for breaking your heart. it hurts to love him still.

teaser | fic

When You Love Someone - the art of destruction / The Raven is told to be a bird that brings wisdom, affection, and healing. However, Ravens are also told to be birds that bring darkness and great voids. When the lives of two raven-haired teenagers clash, one will love and one will destroy. There is a consequence for loving, for caring but that destruction, that darkness goes unseen by those around them for weeks and when recognized, it might just be too late.

teaser | fic

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randomfandomimagine · 3 years

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Games With Trish: The Last of Us Part II

Granted, I didn’t actually play this myself but watched my brother play it instead. Still, I’m kind of glad he had the controller because the game looks so difficult and scary. Overall, I absolutely adored the game and it has so many good things. For that reason, I’ll say the bad things first since there are very few.

I know this game was very controversial, but this is my personal opinion and thoughts, not facts. Let me know your opinion if you want (as long as you’re kind and polite, please!).

Long rant and spoilers under the cut!

Bad things

I have two main things to complain about in the game: the violence and its heavy emotional charge. Now, I don’t necessarily hate them because not only does it make sense that it’s a violent game taking place in a post-apocalyptic world where it’s kill or be killed, but it also goes along with the message of hate and revenge the game wants to tell.

Still, the game gave me a lot of anxiety and I didn’t enjoy it as much as I could have for this reason. I averted my gaze a few times (when they break Yara’s arm being one of them) because it’s so brutal. I’m also a very sensitive person, so each time we played it was so tense and sad that I ended up exhausted. Every time a character died it was so harrowing... Abby’s Day 3 was so intense that I was a little overwhelmed, and Yara’s death was like the final straw and we had to take a break from the game. Characters also die so quickly, which is realistic, but it didn’t give you enough time to react before you were thrown into another scene or shootout. Between how frantic some scenes are and how brutal or tragic, I had to ask my brother to pause it a few times. The game really doesn’t give you a moment to breathe. That’s it, that’s my only complaint about the game. Now on to the good things.

Characters

First of all, and always my favorite thing about any story: the characters. Ellie is my all time favorite character, and even if I don’t agree with her choices and actions in this game, I can still empathize with her and love how complex and deep she is. She’s just human, and she is traumatized, so she does some questionable things.

Obviously, Troy Baker’s and Ashley Johnson’s performances are flawless, but Druckmann’s dialogues and writing is so... human. The characters interact like real people, they are spontaneous and natural, they have intimate moments of love, anger and a wide range of emotions. These characters fidget, frown, smile and have a myriad of human gestures (also improved with the amazing, mindblowing Naughty Dog graphics) that make them feel real. You can feel the emotion pour out of every gesture, every look, every expression.

I know Abby is also a controversial character but... I adore her. Of course we are meant to hate her at first, but the more time we spend with her, the more I grew fond of her even if I missed playing with Ellie. I couldn’t help but to admire Abby’s brute strength and bravery, even when she faces her fear of heights. When she tells her story, you understand her motivations as much as her actions hurt. Joel (like every character in this game and every person in that world) was not a good person, no matter how much we love him. Besides, at the end of the game it’s hard not to feel for Abby. She loses everyone as a direct result of her own revenge that she very much ends up regretting. When Ellie finds her at the end, it was hard to even tell that was Abby, I literally didn’t recognize her. So it was nice knowing that she found redemption and got her happy ending with Lev, her new family.

The side characters are all amazing. I was especially fond of Lev and Yara (Lev is an adorable little boy that must be protected, I just wanted to hug him) from Abby’s part and Dina and Jesse from Ellie’s part. I also loved Owen, Nora, Manny, Alice... everyone. Even Mel, who seems a bit more bland in comparison, has a defined personality.

The plot

It is so well written, it makes so much sense, coherently and thematically, that I don’t understand some complaints. It’s also so compelling! People complain that Joel’s death made no sense and was just for shock value? It was a direct consequence of his actions at the end of the first game when he killed lots of people and literally doomed humanity out of selfishness. I still love Joel and I’m glad he saved Ellie, but this can’t be denied. Besides, the game deals a lot with the consequences of the characters’s actions, so it makes perfect sense to me.

Everything that happens in the plot and the story has a point. You kill lots of people as Ellie to avenge Joel, but then you get Abby’s point of view and grief the loss of those same characters. The game tries to make you feel for every person, which is why they all have names and their friends call out to them when they are shot. The main goal of the game was to get you to feel empathy for the ‘bad guys’. The point was that there are no good or bad guys in this story, only people with personal perspectives. Ellie and Abby are just two women who felt they were in the right. And in a way, they both were.

I just think the plot was coherent, with lots of interesting things, twists and surprises. Overall, it was realistic. There were no deus ex machinas, no crazy expectation subversions (because the twists were well established) and to me it felt like everything that happened had a meaning, as heart-crushing as it could be.

The themes

Now, this is one of my favorite things about the game. I read that Druckmann said that Ellie and Abby would have been friends in another life, and I agree. They are two sides of the same coin, or two different moments in the process of recovery from trauma and grief.

Abby got her revenge and is dealing with the consequences of it, with the guilt and the rejection of those that don’t approve of her hate and resentment. When she got her revenge, she didn’t feel better (in fact she felt worse) so she does something good to change that. She literally returns to Yara and Lev to make amends for killing Joel, and in it she finds a new family. In the end, Abby actively choses not to do bad things anymore (even to the point of refusing to fight Ellie) and let go of that hatred.

Ellie is in the first stages of grief, needing to look for Abby until she kills her for what she did to Joel. There are some hardcore visceral moments that show the dark side of revenge, like when she finds Nora or attacks Mel and Owen. Even when Abby lets her go she still can’t forget about Joel’s death. It was a nice respite in the farm with Dina and JJ, but her guilt and PTSD don’t leave her and she has to go again. She is literally going through what Abby already lived, hence why she tells Ellie ‘I’m not doing this’ when they meet at the end of the game.

Ellie and Abby were on the same path even if they started on different places. Abby had done terrible things for Isaac as a Wolf but finds redemption when protecting Lev. Ellie mostly wanted to live a happy life until her father figure was taken from her. They meet common ground at some point and then go on their own paths again, which is why the game didn’t end on the theatre.

The first Last of Us was about love, but Part II is about hate. It speaks about how hatred and revenge never end, an eye for an eye and everyone will end up blind. The characters have to make conscious choices to avoid it ruining their lives even further and that’s why the ending is so good. More on that later.

Little things

The setting is incredible, it feels lived in and sometimes it’s absolutely gorgeous. Every place has a history and some of them are just so cool. The musem with the flashback of Joel and Ellie was one of my favorite places, as well as the aquarium. Also, the part of the game where you go to Ground Zero? Terrifying! I was freaking out only watching my brother play, and I’m impressed that they managed to make it feel so dark and ominous. It’s brilliant that they thought of putting something like that in the game, as scary as it was.

The game has so much attention to detail, from how you always find alcohol and scissors in places like kitchens or bathrooms to how accurate the animations are. I was blown away when I saw the trailer with how you crawl under cars and cock the guns and everything, and the game has so many details like those.

Even the AI was insane, NPCs have dialogues if you let them speak and they are so smart. They turn around in the middle of their walking, like real people would, and make it extra challenging. I was so impressed with the AI.

The music was phenomenal as usual. The score just pulls the correct emotions out of you, whether it is making you feel the adrenaline with the drums or feel nostalgic or just make you sad with the guitar.

The ending

Finally, the ending. I think many people didn’t like it, but to me it was perfect. I was so convinced that either Ellie or Abby were going to die, or both! I was relieved that they both lived, and in a way that made so much sense. To me it was a satisfying end to everything that had been set up, a coherent end to all the themes and the message that the game sent. Revenge is bad, let go of that hatred or it will consume you.

Ellie can’t kill Abby. She spent so long thinking about Joel in his last moments, about how she was helpless and couldn’t save him, and that fueled her anger and hatred. Her survivor’s guilt from the first game only got worst when it meant seeing her father figure die. Still, when she is about to kill Abby she thinks about him in a different way. She sees him fondly, with his jacket and coffee and playing guitar. She doesn’t see him bloody and dying as he was that dreadful day. That’s why she doesn’t kill Abby.

Abby and Lev find Santa Catalina after everything they went through. IT’s Abby’s ‘reward’ for not going after Ellie again after what happened with Owen, Mel and everyone. They get their happy ending together as a family: Lev can be himself and feel safe even with everything that he loss, Abby can start forgiving herself for her guilt and honor both her father and Owen by returning to the Fireflies. She was lost in the darkness but found the light. It’s also symbolic that she isn’t as buff or has her long hair because she’s letting go of the reason why she had them.

Ellie lost everything. She couldn’t let go of her hatred and in doing so she was left completely alone, which was her worst fear. She risked everything and the only thing she had left, which was Dina (the representation of a happy life) is gone. It was also heartbreaking that she couldn’t even play guitar (as a guitar player myself and music lover, that hurt me profoundly) because she lost her fingers as a consequence of her attempt at revenge.

I saw theories that Dina was actually waiting for her somewhere else because Ellie was wearing her bracelet, and I hope so too. It seems strange that Dina would abandon her dream of living in a farm if she was staying with Ellie, but I still want to hold on to that hope. I shipped those two so hard, and I really want Ellie to have a somewhat happy ending.

The last few minutes were beautifully tragic. Bittersweet. Ellie is alive, but leaves everything behind, all of her belongings (including Joel’s guitar) in order to move on. It was the only way she had to let go of her grief from Joel’s death and start a new life instead of repeating the vicious cycle of revenge. Just... powerful and moving.

Amazing lines and scenes

My brother knows me well and he said that my favorite scene would be the one in the museum with Ellie and Joel, and it probably is. It feels like a continuation of the first game and it’s a sweet father-daugther (parent-child and found family tropes are my weakness) moment in which Joel tries to make Ellie happy with the nerdy things he knows she loves.

I also adore all the moments between Ellie and Dina. They are adorable and they just feel like a real couple, caring about each other and joking and flirting.

All of the flashbacks were emotional and amazing, but my favorite is probably the last one. When Ellie tells Joel that she wants to forgive him? When he says ‘if I had another chance I would do it all over again?’ I’m getting choked up just thinking about it. I think that’s actually my favorite scene in the game.

Another one of my favorite lines was ‘hey, you’re my people’ from Abby to Lev. It’s so important and such a turning point for Abby, because if it weren’t for Lev she might have killed Ellie and Dina in the theater. She cares so much about him that she keeps going. And that line is the first moment we really see how much that kid meant to her.

Final thoughts

This was probably the longest rant I’ve written here, but The Last of Us was already my favorite game and Part II only topped it for me. The few bad things are greatly overpowered by the countless good things. The game just left a mark on me and I will never forget how it made me smile, laugh, gasp, cry, cringe in fear and overall... just feel in a way nothing had ever made me feel before.

#games with trish #the last of us #tlou #the last of us part ii #rant #the last of us 2 #the last of us ii

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imnotwolverine · 4 years

Text

The Monster’s Lair - Bloody Affairs

Vampire!Henry x Belle - multi-chapter

< Chap 1 | Chapter 2 - Bloody Affairs | Chap 3 >

Disclaimer: Dark adult fairytale - injury, man hunt, skin burns

Author’s note: Before I write my long fics I usually gather a number of things to inspire me, including poems, movies, imagery and music. Music! I thought it’d be nice to share the playlist I made for this long fic as well. In case you, the reader, would like my tunes to enjoy while reading. Also, I’ll add specific songs per chapter, to kind of “set the mood”. I hope you sweethearts enjoy this chapter, and have a lovely Wednesday!

Also. Hello 500 followers! That’s like a small village!! HOLY DAMN!

Word count: 2.374

Reading music: Teho Teardo & Blixa Bargeld - The Beast

(Link to my Masterlist)

A glow.

Was the sun rising already? With a deep frown etched on his beautiful face the monster watched the glow grow in strength, setting alight the centre of the old town. Oh no, that was no sun, it was a fire! Fire!

Opening the french doors out to the upper terrace, he stormed out into the equally stormy weather, his eyes widened as he peered into the distance, seeing what was amiss.

It was with his sensitive, monster-like retina that he could pick up even the tiniest of detail in a mile wide radius, like a hawk in flight. And so he watched and listened, his ears pricking as he came to the bitter conclusion that it wasn’t just a simple fire. It was hell.

From the blazing flames he could hear the screams, desperate panicked screams, that belonged to people who couldn’t seem to escape from the certain death that was awaiting them.

The monster panicked in turn, his eyes flitting over his attire. He was too visible like this, too easily recognisable. With the fire roaring he needed more than the shade of night to hide himself from the people’s curious eyes. If anything, he didn’t want them to know who he was, or what he was. And so, with great haste, he rushed inside, picking out a large cloak that flew out behind him like a bat’s wing, large, impending and cloud-like, the heavy fabric flapping in the angry wind that flowed with him down the pine tree covered hills.

It was an advantage of his disposition, that he had such strength and speed.

Far superior to all creatures and men around, he could move faster than a hundred horses combined and rip apart logs like they were sheets of the thinnest paper. And, in this situation, it was exactly what was needed, the flames lapping around the town’s houses and church with great hunger. The old wood structures were no match - or in fact a literal match - to the doom that was impending.

Arriving at the scene, hidden in the mask of darkness, he watched. Strange. There were barely any people, most rushing out to fetch help or water. It was clear as day that someone needed to help them, NOW. And so he did.

With careful steps he moved out into the flickering light of the flames that cast an eerie orange glow over the town square, people so busy rushing that they did not notice him. The screams were so loud they were nearly painful in his sensitive ears, and yet he didn’t back away.

Pulling his cape further over his head, making sure he remained turned with the wind so his face wouldn’t show, he rushed to one of the houses where the most desperate of cries came from.

In the sea of flames he noticed that the door had been barricaded by a fallen down floor, making it impossible for the woman and children inside to flee. Restless wails and pained cries was all he heard as he stormed into the fire like it was nothing, his flesh not feeling pain like humans do, his clothes melting around his limbs like a second skin as the flames licked, willing him to surrender.

But there was no surrender for the beast.

With mighty strength, a growl thundering through his large chest, he pushed aside the blockade, his claw-like hands instinctively reaching for the family inside, their eyes squinting in the biting heat of the blaze.

‘COME.’ He boomed, his voice so loud that the people outside could swear they heard a thunder crack in the restless skies above. And, as the family wasn’t moving, frozen in fear as they looked straight into his face, he stepped further into the flames, practically dragging the three children and their shivering mother out by their neck hair, shocked little wails flying from their gasping mouths as they were now suddenly back outside. Almost entirely unharmed.

‘THE BEAST!’ A villager screamed, pointing at the dark figure that stood out in the flames, his clothes ablaze but his stature calm. More villagers joined, turning around from their busiment to fetch water, large eyes looking in shock as they saw that poor mother with three children, tugged along by the dark creature that had risen from the flames.

‘KILL HIM!’ The crowd roared atop the loud wicker of the crying fire, women and wind. And with that, the mother managed to free herself with a panicked tug from the monster’s grasp, heavy billowing tears over her cheeks as she reached back out for her children, the monster letting them go without a fight, his gleaming eyes looking back over the crowd and seeing pitchforks being gathered.

Had he not done good? Was this his penance, to forever be hated so? With a frustrated sigh he fled the scene, the flames that still licked his body dying as he rushed with great speed up the long path that led back to his domains. And as he ran, nearly flying with the wind in his face, arms shielding himself from being seen, the skies started to cry for him.

And how they cried.

At first the rainwater was but a light spray of slow and meager drops, but as he ran further and further from the village, the larger and more desperate the showers came down, drowning with it the last of the sounds of uproar that he had left behind him.

‘Please...Belle..’ A soft voice alarmed him that someone was near, feeble and beaten down in the ditch that was now quickly becoming muddy. The monster hesitated, his flight coming to a halt as he watched the crumpled down man that sat there. Belle’s father.

Looking back over his shoulder, he saw the angry mob coming into view. Afoot and on horse, ready to chase him down even if it would be the death of them - which it likely would be might the situation truly escalate as quickly as those flames now ate up the town square.

ARGH! How could it be so, that despite his best efforts, he just couldn’t do good? With a desperation in his still beating heart he left the poor man behind, continuing his flight back to the safety of his monsterly lair, where he’d lick his wounds. Some hurting, others mere burned flesh and tender sinew.

‘Come Phelippe! No horsing around now.’ Belle grumbled, eyeing the stubborn horse who shook his head in disagreement, his manes flying majestically in the stormy wind, the dark of night swallowing the large fields around them.

‘No? No?! Come on! It’s about to rain!’ She exclaimed, raising her hands in defeat as the dark bay nickered. ‘Well, very well then! I’m off. You stay there!’ She started to walk away, her torch bleeding flames as the wind whipped harshly around her, her braided hair becoming damp as the first spray of water droplets leaked from the roaring skies.

It was then the horse finally gave in, hesitant hooves following her until she felt his warm nose press into her shoulder. ‘Oh! And now you are..-’ Her smile died on her lips as she saw an orange glow appear in the far distance, the glow bright and evil looking in the unblinking dark. The village. Gasping quietly, her feet falling back to join the large horse, she tangled her fingers into its mane, hoping it would sooth her sudden disquieted mind.

Wait..was that the town hall? Was papa alright?!

Stay home, Belle. Stay home.

Her father had been adamant on her not sneaking out tonight - especially with the beast on the loose. Belle had begrudgingly given her consent, taking the task upon her to watch over the horses as her father was out in the town hall. And so here she stood, her hands gripping large wads of hay as she moved over the thick brown coat of the mare, rubbing down sweat, mud and rain. She had used the horse to fetch the string of other horses that had been in the back of the field, the storm now quickly gaining strength. With the horses safe and sound inside the stables, she couldn’t help but wonder what her father was up to, her eyes looking at the open barn doors that rattled nervously in the fierce wind.

Outside she saw the rain as it poured, finally, small streams of water running down the path that linked the village to the mansion of the Les Comtes.

Perhaps he was helping with the fire or perhaps the town hall meeting ran late, she thought, warily watching the darkness outside. It wasn’t very much like her father to leave her out and alone so late at night. Never. From her very first memory, father was always closeby, ever protective, though also trying his best to give her what freedom she desired to bloom into the 20-year old woman she had now grown out to be.

Old. Ha! Yes, some town folk had started saying she was old now, and if not careful no man would want her hand in marriage. She’d become an old spinster, like Miss Guinee that lived at the other edge of town in the tiniest of cots, her cough so bad that people had set bets on when she’d pass on.

But alas. Miss Guinee was a tough cookie. And so was Belle. She was most definitely not going to settle for less than..

A figure passed by. Hurried, hidden in a long shredded to pieces cloak that swished wide and wing-like behind him. Papa? Oh, he and his poor eyesight were really going to bring him in some type of trouble someday. With hastened paces she rushed to the door opening, calling for the figure as he rushed further and further up the path.

In the half dark and rain she could see him turn, a pale face catching a glimpse of the lights inside the barn. It wasn’t her father. In fact she wasn’t sure who this was. A man. And then he disappeared. Quite literally disappeared. In the blink of an eye the silhouette of the man vanished into thin air, leaving Belle quite perplexed before her attention was pulled to an uproar down wind. An angry mob approaching.

Flickering torches, angry fists, raised pitchforks, the rain around them coming down heavy from the night’s sky, it was obvious that the townsfolk were on the hunt. First in line being the Old Master’s son Ismael.

‘Belle.’ He called, halting his grey steed besides the beauty who still stood there in the door opening, just outside of the rain. He offered her a self-confident smirk from the dark of his hood, the stable lights shining on his handsome, square jawed face.

‘Sir Le Comte.’ She said, not all impressed by his haughty behaviour, her doe-like eyes instead looking out at the madding crowd that was coming closer on foot.

‘Oh, Ismael to you, dear Belle.’ He smiled, before realising she was not watching him, but the townsfolk that were nearing. ‘Say Belle, please do not tell me you are left to fend for yourself! No lady should befall such a faith!’ He said with a false tone of care, making Belle sniffle in bemusement.

‘And you are here to save me with your ..mad crowd?’ She eyed the farmers, butchers and bakers that now joined the two of them, surrounding Ismael and his trusty steed. All huddled away in heavy wet cloaks, torches in hand.

Belle clutched her shawl around her chest, shivering in the suddenly rather cold wind and splash of water that blew inside the barn opening. The people looked enraged.

‘Tis in fact the beast, we have seen!’ One of the villagers roared.

‘The beast?’ Belle looked back at Ismael, confused, the man shrugging as if it left him unaffected, not in the least bit worried - ever the hero, huh?

‘Indeed. Have you seen any odd beings roam about the stables, by any chance? And where is your father anyw-?’ - ‘You mean you have not seen my father?’ Belle interrupted, her eyes flicking back to study the faces that glimmered in the torch lights. Angry, bewildered people. Familiar faces. But none resembling her father.

Where was he?

‘Belle..oh Belle!’ Ismael exclaimed with an exasperated sigh, coming down from his horse and stretching out his hand to cup her cheek with his wet, gloved hand. ‘Now, please know that I will personally keep you safe, if must be. That old man..’ He huffed. ‘..is clearly quite inapt for the job.’

‘You have not seen father..’ Belle gasped, then ducked away from Ismael’s hand to walk into the crowd, into the rain, calling for Arthur, but failing midway as Ismael grasped her wrist just a bit too tightly, spinning her back around.

‘Say now Belle. You have not answered my question, darling dear.’

Belle frowned and looked back at Ismael, his hand digging painfully in her skin. ‘The beast? Oh no..I have seen no beast come through these parts.’ She said, hiding the knowledge of one strange man just passing by.

‘Hmm..then perhaps he has taken the east road!’ Ismael roared, letting Belle go from his iron grip, his hand now gesturing one of his man to stay behind. ‘And as for Belle. I shall return my sweet, and for you alone I shall skin and bleed that beast, make it a fine hide for beneath our feet!’ He stepped closer and brushed an unwanted thumb over her grimacing face before turning back towards the crowd.

‘LET US HUNT!’ He cried, not noticing that Belle quietly continued to ask people for the whereabouts of her father.

None knew.

None until the crowd had left, except for one brusk looking man that quickly rushed inside the stable, to hide from the roaring storm. It was clear that he was not even thinking for one single moment to “protect” Belle as he had been instructed.

Belle stepped back in the door opening, peering out in the dark until she noticed a sole figure appearing from the shadows. With slow heavy steps he came closer, the barn lights finally revealing him to be her father, his hand clutched over a bleeding wound on his temple.

‘PAPA!’ She cried in horror, rushing over to him, back in the on-going downpour. ‘Papa..what happened?’ She said in more of a hush tone, looking over her shoulder to see the townsfolk return to the main road, the mob taking a sharp turn to the east, their torches slowly fading back in the darkness, an angry glow of the fire at the townsquare still roaring in the background.

Belle sighed in quiet despair. It appeared that even the crying heavens couldn’t stop this bloody terror.

‘Come papa.’ She muttered, offering him her support. ‘Let us get you inside.’ Her eyes quickly traced back at the north road, to the exact spot where she had seen that strange man. And she couldn’t help but wonder.

Had that been..the beast?

Chap 3 >

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