#and a one and a half month break from reading the actual dracula novel

[jaggedcliffs]

Me: it's okay, you can handle Jonathan believing in benevolent sexism for just over 48 hours because 2 out of 2 doctors convinced him it kept women safe.

Jonathan: *spends just over 48 hours believing in benevolent sexism because 2 out of 2 doctors convinced him it kept women safe*

Me:

I mean, I know that unlike the other men Jonathan has up close and personal trauma with Dracula that makes his reasons for keeping Mina away from Dracula a lot more understandable.

But he's also the only man amongst the five of them who should know better, who should know Mina better, who should know to ask Mina if she truly agrees with this plan, so I'm just--

[dirthavarens]

I was waiting to make sure no one pounced you, but apparently not.#3 and/or #42 of the kissing prompts for Dragatha. Whichever catches your fancy more

For once in my goddamn life, I am actually doing this.

It had been nearly a year since Agatha Van Helsing and Count Dracula had been found off the coast of Whitby. Agatha would not settle for only herself being brought to shore upon finding herself in the unfortunate category of undead. He had changed her and he would be staked for it. Or at least she had thought. 

“Agatha, you’ve been gone an awfully long time. A husband will start to worry if his wife is gone too long, you know. I was starting to consider tacking up posters,” Dracula chides, half-pleased with himself and half curious as to her whereabouts. He had been waiting for her, just a little ways inside the door. A dog awaiting his mistress’s return.

She should have killed him by now but she was endlessly fascinated by him, even as her stomach turned uncomfortably as he claimed her as his wife. Only on paper, only because he made it so. Only because of his selfish, doggish actions was she now as he was, a vampire. A lifeless, bloodthirsty monstrosity. If not for the sake of containing him, she would have parted from him at the first opportunity. She would have turned to the nearest priest and asked to be staked; or she would have studied her own existence in death.

Agatha was able to watch him adapt, rather quickly, to a new environment and to new people. This process was no doubt hastened by his diet, secured by the blood of his victims, but fascinating nonetheless. She had taken note and eventually she dined on particular individuals that would grant her knowledge she could not obtain otherwise. 

“Based on the smell of you, I’d say you had dinner without me,” he continues when she doesn’t entertain him with a response. His nose twitches as he closes the distance between them, never caring for her personal space, and frowns. “Inferior vintage. You should take better care of yourself.”

“Unsatisfied with your wife’s diet?” she snarks back, unflinching, her thick Dutch accent still perfectly in place despite all of the English blood running through her veins. He sees it as an act of defiance, holding to tradition in a new world. She sees it as a way to connect her to her human self, something to ground her to the morality she hypocritically holds close. 

“Deeply,” he returns, decidedly ignoring her tone. Dracula leans in, sniffs at her neck with displeasure, and draws his head back, his frown growing sullen. “You do this intentionally.” 

“Feed on the dying? Of course I do,” she says as she walks deeper into their home. She should call it what it is, a gaudy and oversized prison, but she has refrained for eleven months. The former nun can hold her tongue far longer than he ever could and she wasn’t about to entertain certain arguments.

She ignores the footfalls behind her, used to him following her around like a lost child, pestering her whenever he saw fit. Through the foyer, through the hall, crossing down a staircase and into the bowels of the near castle-sized home, they went. She wanted her study some place he could not enter, some place entirely hers. Once she found that she was impervious to the weaknesses he possessed, she used them to her advantage.

Down a dimly-lit hall and to a room with a cross affixed to the door, she hears him give a puff of breath and his shoes stop clicking against the stone floor.

“This? Again? Agatha, you’re stuck with me for all eternity and you’re going to spend that eternity pouting in your dismal little room?”

“Asks the man who sleeps in a box of dirt,” she shoots back as she opens the door, a line of Biblical pages lining the entryway. Agatha steps inside and turns to look at him. It reminds her of the convent a year prior and the knowledge that he cannot follow grants her mind some peace. “When was the last time you slept in a bed?”

She doesn’t wait for an answer and closes the door. 

He irritates her beyond measure, beyond rationality, and yet she remains in his--their--home. Carfax Abbey was a quick fix, if only for his “talent” of suggestibility over others. Six months and they had a completely renovated property, complete with all his little secret passageways and hideaways. She had been impressed with his vision, though she would never admit it to him. 

She reaches for a book she had recently picked up and takes residence on the small loveseat he bought for her on a whim. It could have been seen as a token of affection had it not been from him and an attempt for her to let him into the study.

The novel was a cryptozoological text on lycanthropy, werewolves, and the various mentions of them throughout history. She reads through it with idle interest, her annoyance ebbing as she turns each page, scribbling quick notes as she reads. 

When she’s satisfied with her research, nearly two hours later, Agatha stands and stretches. It’s a purely human habit she hasn’t been able to rid herself of since turning. Not to mention, the more human behaviors she kept, the more he disapproves, and that is a win in her book. 

The former nun blinks a few times and looks to the door behind her. It has been hours since she entered the room and she feels it safe enough to exit into the corridor. Safe enough from his prying eyes, his alluring presence, her weaknesses so human it sickens her. While he annoyed her beyond imagination, she can’t bring herself to part with him, if only to watch him. She keeps justifying her presence, her very existence, on keeping his destructive tendencies at bay. The Count can hardly keep himself in order but she has that power over him. Even if she needed a moment to herself every now and then, he would always bend to her whims. 

When she opens the door, she’s greeted by him, sitting against the wall of the stone corridor. He’s staring emptily at the opposing wall, unmoving, unbreathing, until she appears in the doorway. Agatha nearly scoffs at his behaviors, a dog awaiting his mistress, a beast suddenly unable to survive on its own. 

“Have you been waiting here the whole time?” she asks, her tone severe despite the warmth that unfurls within her. It’s not romantic, it’s stalking, she reminds herself. However, upon further inspection, she notices his change of clothes and lively hue of his skin.

“As a matter of fact,” he starts, standing and moving towards her. “I just returned and I want you to taste something.”

He’s too close now, just a breath away from her mouth and the scent of blood is heavy on his lips. Agatha can feel her teeth shape into fangs and knows her eyes are drenching in the crimson hue of bloodlust. 

“And what would that be?” she provokes, unwavering despite the way her body sways towards his form. She damns herself, damns him, for the way her figure acts of its own accord, ignoring her mind’s wishes to steer clear of him. 

“Fresh blood, Agatha. You need to remember what it tastes like. Maybe then, you’ll stop these preposterous little games of yours and submit to your nature. It’s what vampires are supposed to do. Feed on the living, accept the truth for what it is.”

He’s too close for her to answer now, his neck bent down to the point she can nearly taste the blood on his lips.

“Kiss me, dragă mea,” he breathes against her lips, a hand at her hips that she doesn’t care to move. She should hate him, should push him away. But she doesn’t. In fact, Agatha Van Helsing makes no such movement, despite her mind demanding repulsion. 

In a moment, she makes her decision, hunger overtaking her higher functions, and she accepts his lips on hers, hungry as he claims her with a kiss. Her fangs scrape against his bottom lip as she sucks the last of the fresh blood from it and looks up at him after pulling away. 

“Again.” A word that sounds more of a request than a demand, but she obliges him. She kisses him deeply, her hands coming to his cheek and disheveling the neatly organized locks atop his head. Dracula pulls her tighter against him and pushes her up against the stone wall. 

The rocks are cool against her back, adding a contradictory sensation that conflicts with the heat of his mouth and hands as they travel her body. His mouth tastes of blood, surely, but there’s something else that she cannot place that compels her to deepen the kiss. Exploratory in execution, her tongue samples him, delving in and out, running against the slick of his own. 

“What a naughty nun you are,” he purrs as he breaks the kiss, his lips traveling to her jaw. “Shall I punish you?”

[elliepassmore]

Lady Rogue Review

5/5 stars Recommended for people who like: fantasy, Dracula, supernatural, mysteries The story follows Theo, daughter of a treasure-hunting historian, as she and her father's assistant race across Romania and Bulgaria trying to find him after he goes missing on a find. I will admit, I was expecting the story to go a little differently in terms of Dad-Theo-Huck relations, but the way Bennett has it written works for the story she's telling. I also think the book could be part of a series pretty easily, though I don't believe Bennett has any plans for that at the moment (I also think if it was written only slightly differently it could very easily become one of those series where each book is an 'episode,' but maybe doesn't follow a specific timeline). I thought Theo was a pretty interesting character. She's traveled the world, speaks multiple languages, can break codes, and is something of a supernatural enthusiast. She also has a ridiculous penchant for winding up in trouble and I think I would be satisfied if Bennett gave us a companion novella with a bunch of different Theo-related incidents, no supernatural or anything, just Theo getting into trouble, because holy shit does she get into some interesting situations. I understood her frustration at being left behind in hotels while Huck and her dad did the interesting stuff, but I also thought it was interesting that 1) most of her skills are cerebral, and 2) she doesn't seem to have made a concerted effort to develop skills that are not cerebral...so while I understand why she was upset with the situation, I also think that it was probably smart of her dad to have her do the research and whatnot. I mean, she ended up fairing pretty well once she was out and about, but I also think there are some skills she could stand to pick up if she wants to be in the field more often...like how to use a weapon or rock climbing or any sort of survivalist training. She was good when it came to questioning people though, which seems to be a skill her father lacks, so at least she one-ups him there. Huck was a decent character too; he's adorable in a puppy-kind of way. Since he worked with Fox for so many years, he does have a lot of the skills and know-how associated with treasure hunting and mystery solving. However, I did find his initial naivete when it came to escaping Sarkany a bit weird. He makes up for some of these initial blunders by being good at lock-picking and just generally going along with Theo's mad schemes. I appreciated how he was trying to be the voice of reason for a lot of the book but eventually just said "fuck it" once things started getting too weird. I thought it was good to see a more rational character balance Theo out, but still be someone who got spooked by ghosts and witches and who could turn rational, practical knowledge into things that worked with the occcult. Their relationship is a bit odd, in terms of how things go. It's obvious something happened between them about a year ago, but we don't really figure it out until halfway through the book. Basically, it turns out to be this huge orchestrated misunderstanding and everything turns around and is peachy. I'd be fine with this if all the answers about the misunderstanding were given. Like, for instance, when Theo and Huck are on the Orient Express the first time and Theo reveals Huck didn't respond to any of the letters she'd sent the first few months he was away. In the scene it seems like he's going to say something and decides against it, and I assumed it would come up again, but once the air is cleared neither of them mention the letters again. So...what happened there? Did the letters not arrive because of poor mailing conditions in 1937? Did Huck see the letters and decide not to answer because it hurt too much? Because he was angry? Did his aunt confiscate them? Did he write back but those letters were confiscated by Fox? Did Fox prevent Theo's letters from being sent in the first place? Like...what the hell happened with them and if everything was a misunderstanding, why didn't Huck respond? Some people mention in other reviews that it was kind of weird they were brought up siblings but became romantic but...they were 10/11 when Huck was brought into the household and 16 when things turned romantic, which is 5-6 years, but also is far enough into childhood development that I doubt they really saw each other as brother-sister but more of best friends. And besides, there are plenty of fantasy novels were people actually think they're siblings and are romantic ( Mortal Instruments) or where people actually are siblings and are still romantic ( Game of Thrones) and no one bats much of an eye about that, so I'm not too concerned about Huck and Theo. As for Fox...I'm going to say he's problematic. I get some of where he's coming from, protecting Theo, because his wife died on a treasure hunt, but at the same time there's a difference between protection and abuse. Keeping her in hotel rooms while he hunts treasure? Annoying, but protection. Sending her best friend and lover across the ocean the day after her birthday and giving both kids different reasons for why? Abuse. Same with how he "never apologizes" or how when he's with Huck he only praises Theo but when he's with Theo he only praises Huck. There's definitely some sketchy emotional abuse going on with this guy. I thought his job and his character were fascinating, but he has issues. Also, he brings up another question that was never answered. In one of his journal entries, he says he should've let his friend Jean-Bernard be more a part of Theo's life and he's a coward for not doing so...but why Jean-Bernard should be a bigger part of her life, why he isn't, and why Fox is a coward for making it that way are never addressed. Is Jean-Bernard her real father? Is he her mother's half-brother? Does he just think he would be a good influence on her? The side characters were excellent as well and created far fewer questions than Huck or Fox. Lovena was my favorite of them, though she did give off some weird vibes at first. She has a pretty traditional witchy vibe about her that's fun to read. I would've liked to see more of her in the book, as she's a pretty minor character even though she plays an integral role. The Zissu Brothers were also fun to read. They reminded me a lot of the chimera in Daughter of Smoke and Bone, but they were also a bit reminisce of the talking animals in Narnia in Prince Casper in the sense that they're powerful but very concerned about surviving in a hostile world to the point where they're more interested in hanging back and letting things play out to avoid being caught in the crossfire. Outside of the characters, I really enjoyed the supernatural aspects of the story. I just read Dracula in the spring, so it was nice to actually know some of the references being made about the fictional account, though you definitely don't need to have read the other book to enjoy this one. Likewise, I'm a fan of history, so I liked seeing all the different historical fact about Vlad III and Romania. Back to the supernatural stuff, I thought it was good how Bennett included the mythos and stories of different creatures in the book, and I also thought it was refreshing to see a different side to the vampire/strigoi and werewolf/wolf people dynamic that's usually in paranormal books. All the components of Dracula + history + supernatural make for a right creepy book and I really loved the spook-factor, which was fantastic because that was the one thing I was wary about coming into the book. I'm not a fan of horror and even reading Dracula earlier this year gave me the creeps even though it's not too terribly scary, so the horror factor was definitely on my mind going into the book. I think if you're not a fan of scary things, this book should work fine. If you're a fan, it should also work fine so long as you're ready for more 'creepy' and 'spooky' than 'scary'. I will note that, despite the book taking place in 1937, no one talks like it's 1937. I noticed something was off about the dialogue while I was reading but couldn't quite put my finger on what it was until I read another review that mentioned the characters all speak with relatively contemporary inflections and vocabularies. I don't really think it's that big of an issue, like I said, I noticed something was up with the dialogue but it didn't impact my reading experience and it was pretty easy to gloss over, but it's something to think about. It's definitely a good book and I would recommend reading it. There's a good balance between mystery and creepy, with some light fluffy stuff thrown in to build up relationships and whatnot. Fox is definitely a problematic favorite and I'm not 100% sure how I feel about Theo and Huck staying to put up with his shit, but Bennett did leave the book with Fox changing a little, so I don't know how things would play out in a sequel, but be warned about Fox going in. While there is Dracula inspiration behind this I think there's more of a focus on Vlad the Impaler, the supposed historical inspiration of the famous vampire and Romanian folklore and history. I think this could very easily turn into a YA paranormal version of Nancy Drew or something, but as of right now I don't think Bennett is going down that path, so oh well. As a final note, despite the Goodreads synopsis calling this "The Last Magician meets A Gentleman's Guide to Vice and Virtue," there isn't any queer romance in this (I did read between the lines a bit w/ Fox and Jean-Bernard, but that's some very light subtext and could just entirely be me), so if you're reading this because of that, you're definitely going to be disappointed.

[rueur]

Morning Pages #50 (04.11.2017)

Saturday 4th November - 7:52 a.m.

So a lot has happened. A lot has changed. I think it’s fitting that I’m starting this up again the day after I submitted the last assignment of my degree. That, and I’m right back where I started the very first day I started these morning pages: back at Emily’s apartment in Northcote. Except it’s my apartment now! Mine and Evan’s. We moved in together on the 12th of August, because Emily is going to be living in Sydney for most of her time now. She’ll still be travelling interstate for a bit, but she’ll be spending a lot more time with Bruno and Romy and Quinn, her partner. We’re still receiving a lot of her mail, which I haven’t had the time to forward to her because of uni and work and everything, but I’ll have the time now, I suppose.

Anyway, I should let you know that I am indeed on track to graduate, on the 15th of December with a weighted average mark of over seventy, which is fucking incredible. I actually cannot believe I’ve been able to do this, uninterrupted for three years despite all the shit that’s come my way through it all. I am actually an incredibly strong person, and I forget that so often because of all my momentary bouts of fear, of all my apprehensions and timidities. I have to acknowledge that it takes so much strength to just be who I am. I’ve communicated that to Evan and he understands what I’m talking about, for the most part. I’ve told him a lot about my grandparents, and my parents, my sister, Ikaros, and all my pets. We’re thinking of getting a dog, Evan and I. It’s just that we don’t really have the space for one here so we’ll have to move first, which is a shame because I’m really enjoying living in this apartment with him. This place is basically the setting of our first few months together. On our first date he dropped me off here, we kissed goodnight on the steps outside. The first time we had sex was in this room. I’m fairly certain I wrote about that so I won’t write about it again now. Far too much has happened to be looking that far back.

Anyway, yeah, we’re thinking of getting a dog. I’ve been going to adoption days a lot, mostly by myself because Evan’s been working so much. But we went to one together on the 29th of October because it was a Sunday and it was just up the road at the Northcote pet warehouse. There was a dog there named Raven who just came up to me right away and gave me a massive hug, the little thing. My heart is breaking all over again just thinking about her. I really want to find her again and rescue her. Oh man I haven’t done this in ages and my fingers and my arms are hurting from writing this fast. I used to be able to get these pages done in like fifteen to twenty minutes and it’s been ten minutes already now and I’m not even finished with the first page. I’m getting there though. I suppose you have to maintain the habit for this to feel as easy as it had felt in March or in April. I want to keep writing about all the stuff that’s happened since June but I know that technically these entries aren’t supposed to be like a diary at all. I just choose to write about my day and my life and Evan and all of that because it’s what’s on my mind most of the time, and it’s nice to have a record of that stuff, I suppose. I haven’t been able to record me and Evan moving in together which is a shame because I had recorded a good bulk of the beginning of our relationship. Ooh! Second page now! My arms are hurting a lot I think I may have to change the way I’m sitting right now. I’m lying down facing the window and listening to Childish Gambino’s ‘The Night Me And Your Mama Met’ on repeat. This song is just so soothing, it’s been really nice to write essays to. Okay, I’m changing the way I’m sitting right now though. I was only sitting this way because my laptop needed to charge a bit but now it’s on 66% and that should be enough to finish off these last two pages.

Evan and I had sex last night, it was the first time since Sunday, I think. We’ve been having a bit of a periodic sex life because of all the clutter we’ve had to deal with: Evan’s prolonged work hours, my crazy uni/work schedule, and the fact that I only get evening/weekend shifts at my restaurant. Yes, I’m working at a place on High Street in Thornbury, a place I handed out my resume to with Wren and it turns out they liked me and they hired me, back at the end of July. It’s a pretty okay gig. $20 an hour, and the evening shifts are about 5 hours long so 2 evening shifts a week and 2 weekend shifts, I end up making about $400 a week: basically more or less the same as Evan for less than half the hours Evan works. But I am hating the fact that working at the shop takes away my entire weekends, most of the time, and Evan’s entire week is taken over by his work. So we don’t really have too much time together. I’m looking for full-time work right now, something I can do with my degree. Kill Your Darlings is hiring and I think it might be good to look into that? There’s a good chance they may hire me just because I used to be a subscriber! Actually I think I might still be a subscriber, but I haven’t been reading anything at all. I should probably do my research.

Anyway I’m working today. 11:30 a.m. till 12 a.m. which may or may not be 1 a.m. because I might have to close the shop. I hope not, though. I just got my period, last night. During sex. Evan was cleaning up afterwards and the condom was just all covered in blood. His fingers were all covered in blood. It was strange, but thankfully he didn’t seem to mind it. But goodness, this morning I woke up and felt like I was either going to explode, or that I was so empty that my body would collapse in on itself and I would turn into a black hole. I took a dump and I’m yet to eat, but I’m feeling a lot better now. I miss Evan though, I miss him so much. He left at like half past seven and I won’t see him again till LATE tonight because of my dumb restaurant job. They’ve also been hiring other people which means I’m not getting as much shifts or as much choice of shifts and it’s really fucking irritating. The place is so mismanaged. And although the work is pleasant and the people are lovely (with one exception: Josh), being there is just not good for me, I think. That and I’m keen to finally find something in my field. I’ve been working three years, getting my qualification so that I can contribute to Melbourne’s creative industry. I mean I’ve been doing that with The Yarra Reporter, but I want to do MORE. That, and it would be nice to be paid, you know?

Actually, I’m also thinking of volunteering at an animal shelter. To get my dog fix until we can actually adopt a pet ourselves. We really can’t have one at Mitchell Street, as much as I would like and as much as I’ve been trying to persuade both myself and Evan that we can...it’s just not a viable option. This is no place for a dog. A tiny, second floor apartment with one human who’s barely ever home and then me, who’s looking for full-time work as well. I really don’t know what I’m going to be doing with myself though. Sam said she’d write me a letter of recommendation to work at Robinsons, but I’ve been thinking about that and I don’t know if I’d want to work at Robinsons. So I’ve been asking myself what I DO want to do, and I don’t know if anything’s at all appealing right now. All the creative writing jobs on Seek are ‘content writer’ or ‘social media manager’ or something like that, which could be fun but it also could be totally capitalist and soul-destroying. But the main thing that’s put me off Robinsons is the fact that it’s retail and I’ll have to make ‘sales’ and be equally capitalistic. Fucking hell though, it can’t really be avoided, can it? I applied for The University of Melbourne’s Master of Secondary Teaching, specialising in English and SOSE. There’s a very real chance I’ll be accepted into that, but I don’t want to be a teacher either. Not right away, that is. In all honesty, I see myself doing that eventually...but definitely not right out of uni. It’s a personal belief of mine that teachers should have a fair amount of life experience under their belts before they return to high school on the other side of it all as teachers. The best teachers I had were teachers who’d lived, and who’d taken their field by storm, seen all there was to see and then used all their passion and experiences in their classrooms. I want to be a teacher like that, and in order to do that I’ll need to be really really brave and step right into the creative industry. That means time to write more slam poems, time to write short stories and novellas and novels and enter them into competitions, time to write articles and send them to Djed and Peril and KYD and Going Down Swinging, everybody. Time to do a lot more at The Yarra Reporter, time to make myself fucking prolific. I have to be everywhere, doing everything. Rue Tunga on the scene with my camera and notepad in hand, taking in all that Melbourne has to offer and spewing it all out in the form of CULTURE. I’m actually terrified right now, but writing this has gotten my head together a bit, it seems. I mean I needed this. It’s 8:22 a.m. now. It’s been a half hour of writing and I’m nearing the end of this third page. I’m not as slow as I was when I started this, that’s good to know. But to be fair, I’ve been writing non-stop all week. I had four assessment tasks due within a week of each other. And I had to finish them all one after the other. I think the worst one by far was my gothic fictions essay. I got my last one back and it turns out I didn’t do too well on it: H3. Part of me thinks it was justified and part of me doesn’t. But I swear to god I deserve way better on this last essay I did on Dracula and Frankenstein. I compared the two monsters alongside the era they were written in.

Oh, so I’m running out of space now, so I’ll just say one more thing before I’m done for the day. Evan and I got a lift to my restaurant (from Wren and their cousin Tahni who’s visiting from Queensland) to hand in my employee papers (it’s been cash in hand since I started, like everybody’s been cash in hand up until now) and then we were walking back home when we decided to get some stir fry things to eat with the rice I had in the rice cooker at home. We bought food stuffs and were walking down Mitchell Street when Evan slipped and fell on our bag of prawn crackers. He got so mad he swore REALLY loud and then flung the bag into the street. He said he almost threw our food too. Then he walked home really briskly and left me behind a bit. We got home and the rice hadn’t cooked because I hadn’t turned the rice cooker onto ‘COOK’ it was just on ‘WARM’ for three hours. So Evan, in a continued state of agitation, ordered three packs of steamed rice from Loving Hut on UberEats. Fucking hell. I flipped the rice cooker on, and our rice was done before the Uber rice came. He said he almost punched a hole through the door, and he almost threw our whole bag of food. Because he slipped and fell. It was a bit of a stressful scene. But it was followed by some nice food and Dexter, and a really honest and loving night, and some great - if not slightly bloody - sex.