#this year I read Carmilla Dorian Grey and

[oooocleo]

how do you find good recommendations (other than maybe booktube ig) bc i never really heard of the goblin emperor until i saw you post about it and decided to read it because of you (im not even past the first act but it's so freaking good) just wanted to know since im co-hosting a book-club w/ a friend and want to expand my taste in books

it’s a struggle… when I started reading again I was very lucky to get recommendations from a friend that were Very up my alley (the goblin emperor, white is for witching, the nghi vo novellas, le Guin books)

booktube wise I haven’t found an exact match for my taste (a lot are less critical than I am or only read 1 genre for ex.), but it can help to Learn Of The Existence of books 🤨 I tend to do my own research after, looking at the blurb and genre tags, tho that doesn’t always guarantee I’ll actually like it

Some books I find out about via my patreon discord bc we have a bookclub channel there (we’re reading kaikeyi currently!), so it’s ultimately kind of a word of mouth thing 🧍 when it comes to more classic books it’s just ones that are well known (your carmillas, your dorian greys, your frankensteins)

i can try to rec some books if you tell me your general taste/what ur kinda looking for in a book altho the 2024 list is all I’ve read in Years skdjfjnv (uni)

[caitlynmeow]

I know this isn't an ask blog, it's 1 am I wanted to write this, so I did.

To Countess Alcina Dimitrescu:

I've been informed by a villager that is somehow alive that your eldest daughter Bela is a fan of classic literature. I write this at 2 AM by candlelight. I write it because due to madness or boredom or any such disease I decided to write an exhaustive list of recommendations. I have some expertise, I keep the village book store in business and have read about 190 "classic" novels and books by classic authors.

Authors: I imagine Bela would love Franz Kafka. Kurt Vonnegut could work, of course his masterpiece Slaughterhouse-Five is definitely the first to read, the best quote from it I think is, "here we are, Mr. Pilgrim, trapped in the amber of the moment, there is no why." It seems that Russian Lit could also fit. Obvious or not any sane individual can and will really enjoy Dostoevsky (Bela, Cassandra, and Daniela have a bit of Ivan, Dimitri, and Alexei Karamazov in them respectively. Although it would be an insult to compare yourself, my Lady, to Fyodor Karamazov. Bela as Ivan of course. If there should be one he's by far my favorite.)

Here are some ideas for specific books. The Homeric epics of course but I'm sure those have already came and went, Ovid's Metamorphoses, In Cold Blood by Truman Capote, Catcher in The Rye, and the Call Of The Wild. Of course for the oldest, gayest shit, The Picture of Dorian Grey by Oscar Wilde and Carmilla would be ideal. Oh, fuck! Magical realism! How didn't I think of that before?! One Hundred Years of Solitude, that would definitely be one of the best ones I've mentioned.

(don’t worry about it nonnie! i don’t mind these things at all <3)

Alcina looked at the letter, her eyes scanning it’s content, her head nosing slightly as she read along the list of recommendations.

It is a good list of staple classical works, some titles are familiar, ones that her daughters have read when they were younger. Generally, she is against electronic devices in excess, which is something she had better control on when her daughters were younger.

She only allowed one hour of television per day.

Her daughters were busy playing with their toys, reading, and developing their hobbies. As a result, her daughters are fluent in multiple languages, they have different talents, and they are well read.

Russian literature might not be everyone’s cup of tea, but her daughters loved it. Daniela not so much, but she did read a few of the book they have in their library. Cassandra was never intimidated by size and density, the dark nihilistic themes were to her liking, and the darker the theme was, the more she got into it. Bela, on the other hand, showed genuine intrigue.

Bela has read some of these titles, she read Slaughter House Five when she was in with grade.

Oh, The Brothers Karamazov- it was something the whole family would sit and discuss over dinner! Many fights broke because of that novel because each one of the daughters had her strong opinion about it. Good times, good times indeed.

Why yes, those titles are indeed sitting in the library upstairs. Magical realism is something that Bela dabbles in, but not really invest a life of time reading. This should be something to look into and perhaps persuade her to try. Cassandra has read One Hundred Years of Solitude and I’m sure she can lend her sister a copy.

In Cold Blood is a title that she hasn’t read either, so I’ll make sure to add it on his list of the next batch of books that are coming to the castle.

[susandsnell]

this is my cat, maizy, and her catnip pumpkin! i am passing on a gentle kitten bop from maizy to you. ❤️

i recently read silvia moreno garcia’s mexican gothic, which i just ate up. what is your favorite gothic (novel or other media)?

!!!! What a little darling! look at that perfect domino, those jeweled eyes!!!! Thank you so much for sending me dear maizy, lovely, she's so sweet and I send you both so much love. Mexican Gothic is a modern instant classic!!!! i'm so glad you enjoyed it!!! my favourite gothic is so so so hard to pick, and so i really have to split it off. frankenstein wins for prose/ideas in the literary department (i shock myself that the vampires are all runners up, but dracula and carmilla are beloved runners up, honourable mentions going as well to picture of dorian grey). for films, i'll give the win to 1994's interview with the vampire (because i'm incredibly picky about dracula adaptations, though 1931 rocks and individual performances/aspects of later ones do too) since it was such a game-changer for young coco. and as for musicals - tie between phantom of the opera and sweeney todd: the demon barber of fleet street, both of which I love for completely different reasons and which completely defined my tastes in most media and beyond from my preteen years to present day. (one is for the heart, the other for the head.) What a delightful question! Thanks so much for asking. <3 What are your favourites?

Ask/submit anything! <3

[atundratoadstool]

Do you know of any other similar gothic stories from the same time period as Dracula?

If you want a much wilder and much more racist ride than Dracula, it was published the same year as Richard Marsh's The Beetle, a gothic novel which also features a very sad initial narrator, a hyper-competent heroine, and a marauding foreign menace. It should be noted, however, that the very rough equivalent of Jack Seward is just a blatant supervillain who nobody notices is a supervillain. Instead of "She doesn't love me so I did some questionable psychiatry :'(", he's "She doesn't love me so I'll turn my thoughts to my unstoppable death gas >:("

You should also definitely check out Carmilla (1872) if you haven't, as it's an earlier vampire story that obviously had some influence on Dracula. While I cannot, in good faith, recommend Trilby without warning that it is overtly and unapologetically antisemitic to the point of being difficult to read (I would not read it again were I not doing scholarship that touches on it), it definitely has a mesmeric villain who may have influenced Dracula and it might be of interest to people interested in tracing mesmeric fiction or looking to literary precursors of The Phantom of the Opera.

Beyond that, I greatly enjoy almost all the hit fiction of the late Victorian gothic revival (Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, The Picture of Dorian Grey, The Great God Pan), but I'm not sure there's anything off the top of my head that strikes me as being particularly Draculaesque in particular beyond what's listed above. If you're interested in tipping into the 20th century, Stoker would later go on to write a mummy novel (The Jewel of Seven Stars) that uses a lot of the same tropes and character types as Dracula (the hero, like many of the heroes of his novels, is a hot young lawyer). Jewel isn't nearly as good as Dracula though in my opinion.

[thenightling]

What might have Been (Sandman fan fiction)

What might have Been...

Someone out there really does not want me to write Sandman fan fiction so naturally I must write more.  

This story was inspired by the fact that over on his Tumblr Neil Gaiman was asked on at least two occasions that if Alexander Burgess had freed Morpheus, would he still have been condemned to eternal waking or if he would have shown mercy? Both times Neil Gaiman answered that Morpheus would have shown mercy.  And yes, Neil Gaiman has a Tumblr.   So this is a story of what may have happened of Alexander Burgess had freed Morpheus back when he probably should have.

Note: This story does contain a depiction of early twentieth century homophobia and some period accurate slurs.  Based on my own personal experiences as a non-straight person I understand if the scene might make some readers uncomfortable.  However you might find the end result of what happens to the abuser somewhat cathartic.  

             What might have Been…

            The boy stared intently at the glass cage in front of him.  It was domed and rather egg-like in shape and tall enough to hold a man or something very man-like.  The leadened quartz-crystal was as clear as any well-made window.  Alexander Burgess watched the creature with the fascination of a child watching a pet lizard in a terrarium.  

           The naked being in the cage stared back at him with cold intensity and a proud contempt as well.  The creature was pale as chalk, and his eyes were like back pools of water with twin stars serving as pupils floating in the darkness.  Later Alex would be able to compare this vision to the claimed “Grey” alien encounters he would read about in grocery store tabloid magazines.   One stark difference from those creatures though was that this creature had a shock of wild, black, hair that reminded Alex of a disorderly pile of raven feathers, thick and heavy hair that framed the pale face staring out at him from behind the glass.  The creature was improbably thin.  It was clearly intelligent and generally humanoid.              If Alex hadn’t seen the summoning for himself, if he had not detached himself so thoroughly from the alienness of this entity, he might have even found him beautiful or attractive. But all potential for that had been lost to fear and the unavoidable and frightening knowledge that this was not a human being.

           Alex did not know why he found The Creature so fascinating.  He had discovered who and what the creature was in the Paginarum Fulvarum.  The King of Dreams.  That revelation had somehow not resolved his sense of curiosity. This was the being accountable for everyone’s dreams, all of humanity’s secret fantasies and all those shameful imaginings that come late at night when people are at their most vulnerable.  For Alex there was a secret shame in his own dreams…

           “I hate you.” Alex whispered.  It was a childish proclamation but there was some hidden pain there.              The bony, wraith-like, creature moved his head slightly, acknowledging Alex’s words without responding verbally.  He never spoke to them.    

Alex wasn’t even twenty-years-old yet but he knew he was not like other men.  He was not “manly” by the usual definition of the term.  And he believed that if his father knew about his secret yearnings, his Desires… He would be disowned…

It was this thing’s fault, wasn’t it? The cruel bastard there in the box.  He was the one who gave him those dreams.  The dreams that Alex dared not describe to anyone.  Dreams of other young men.  The feel of their lips against his face.   The tingle through his scalp as the lips vibrate against his earlobe as something gentle and inviting was whispered into his ear.  Their affection, their touch, their love…              How Alex dreamt of that love, that sweet, terrible, sinful love.  And why?  Why was this such a taboo?  His father had used magick for so many cruelties.  He had even killed with it.  So why were his desires, ones that could never hurt anyone, considered to be so much worse?  …And who decided that a form of love could be deemed evil anyway?  Wasn’t love supposed to be ultimate redeemer?  The ultimate absolution?  As far as young Alex was concerned humans and the powerful beings that governed the universe- they were all hypocrites.  All of them!  Hypocrites who took pleasure in the befuddlement of others by tempting them with …with deviant dreams…

 Alex had enough of staring at the alien-like boogeyman there in the cellar.  He got up off the cold, damp, floor where he had been seated, eye level with the crouching, naked thing.   Almost staring each other down, as if in a contest of wills neither was entirely sure about.   Alex stood up.  Unlike the pale creature imprisoned there, Alex could leave.  He could leave at any time.   …Then why did he feel just as trapped as if he was the one in the glass bubble?

The months passed and not much had changed.  Alex had grown a bit, but that was normal.  He had read somewhere that some men grow until they’re twenty-five. He was taller, leaner.  He discovered he needed spectacles, which wasn’t too surprising.  He had squinted often when reading father’s dusty old books.        

One thing was different though.   Father had hired a new gardener.  A pretty, red-haired boy, barely Alex’s own age.  And Alex had the distinct feeling that perhaps this young man was also… different.  Different in his capacity to feel for men what most men usually only feel for women (or so Alex believed).

It was a warm summer afternoon when Father finally took notice of Alex and the peculiar way he watched the gardener.  Alex, whom he often ignored.  Roderick Burgess found it distasteful and rather Crowley-esque that his own son should look at another man in that way.   He watched as Alex observed the gardener.  Roderick hoped what he was seeing here wasn’t what it appeared.   But it seemed so.   Alex was as infatuated with the near androgynous gardener boy in a way that he should only feel toward women.  Well, something must be done about that!  

 “Father, please!”  Alex tried to shield himself with his arm as his father’s heavy, old, walking stick came crashing down on him again.            “You are an EMBARRASSMENT!   The heir to the Order of Ancient Mysteries, my ONLY son… a worthless, useless… Mary!”  There was another crack from the gentleman’s cane being used in a very ungentlemanly fashion.            “No, Father, I…  Magus. Magus, Please, I-“            “It’s that boy, isn’t it?  That Elliot? Well, he doesn’t work here anymore!  I sent him away.  You’re lucky I don’t just stop his heart to rid myself of this shame!”            He was one to talk of Shame.  His father, the infamous occultist, rival to Aleister Crowley, head of The Order of Ancient Mysteries, and source of scandal after scandal. The papers always had something to say about Father.  They never spoke about Alex.  Alex knew how to keep a low profile, to keep to himself, to go virtually unnoticed in his father’s shadow.              The threat to stop Elliot’s heart was very real.  Alex knew his father had enough magick to do such a thing to someone without the occult means to defend himself.            “No!  He’s innocent!”            “Innocent?!”  What did that matter to someone like Roderick?  Alex had always been too damn soft and now he had gone over to fairyland as far as Roderick was concerned.   Well, at least he knew his son hadn’t soiled his bed with his deviance yet- he had not acted out his profanity in the house, at least there was that.  “Look at you!  You’re a disgrace!”            Alex was cowering and crouched in the corner of his room, which was in disarray from his father’s attack.  He knew he couldn’t hide what he was from him.  His father was just too powerful…  

It also didn’t help that Alex had kept those old novels under his bed.   The picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, Carmilla by Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, a few selected Greek myths carefully bookmarked in a thick, leather-bound, volume, and the closet drama Goethe’s Faust parts 1 and 2 translated perfectly from German into English.  Anyone with the ability to read between the lines, as they say, could tell what Mephisto’s relationship with Faust was really all about…            Alex couldn’t tell what was worse, the words his father said or the cane coming down again and again.  He was too afraid to fight back.  There was no telling what his father or his father’s minion might do if he tried.  Sometimes he had nightmares of his father’s darker wrath, much more extreme than this.            “You dress like a fairy!  Look at you! Growing your hair out like a girl, walking around in long velvet jackets like they’re frocks!  You think you look like Henry Irving or something?  No, you look like a little girl!  No woman will ever find you attractive.   I should have realized, the way you bury yourself in those books, like a little wanna-be priest.”            Alex saw nothing wrong with dandy fashion and as for his hair, plenty of respectable men had hair longer than his. His hair wasn’t even really shaggy. Oscar Wilde’s hair had been longer than this at the time of his death.  Though he knew that was, as far as his father was concerned, an awful example.             He whimpered and tried to wait out the pain and dared not argue the accusations.              “They stare at you, you know.”  Roderick continued in his tirade to shame him.             Alex knew the only person who actually scrutinized what he wore was his own father. He kept to himself too much to be the focus of anyone else’s attention.  “You think I don’t see it?  How they turn and look at you and whisper on the street what a pansy you are.  Maybe if you dressed normal you wouldn’t forget you’re supposed to be a man!”            No one was actually saying he was a pansy. That was clearly Father’s own insecurity about his masculinity talking.

           “Clean yourself up.”  Roderick said, finally too exhausted to beat him anymore.  And in an after-thought “If anyone asks, you fell off a horse like the clumsy idiot you are.”

            Roderick walked from the room, gentleman’s cane (if you could call it that) still clutched in his hand.

           Alex slowly pulled himself to his feet.   He was trembling yet, and sniffling, trying to choke back the threatening sobs.              Alex had long ago abandoned the childish (as he saw it) hope that a parent’s love was truly unconditional. The child in him still insisted it was supposed to be unconditional, that parents are supposed to love you and accept no matter what, and Alex still craved his father’s approval and acceptance.  It had been some naïve governess from Alex’s childhood who had taught him that foolish notion he could not shake, that a parent should love you without condition. And he never could quite let go of that belief even if all of his life experiences insisted that no parent (at least his parent) could not love in that way…              Could Roderick Burgess love at all?

Alex finally left his badly disheveled room once he was certain his father was no longer nearby. There were papers and books scattered, along with a knocked over chair and some random knickknacks.  Some ceramic and glass items were broken, fragments of childhood playthings lay on the carpet.              Something had broken tonight and it was not merely some old toys…            Alex walked …or more precisely he stumbled, down the hall.  Alex’s back ached where he had gotten the brunt of the caning.  He knew the marks were going to scar.  Everything ached.  His shoulders, his legs, especially his back.  One eye was blackened and his cheeks were red from the heat of crying.  He wiped furiously at his own tears.  It was foolish to cry.  And it was dangerous to dream…

He would never really be free. He was as much his father’s prisoner as the creature down in the cellar…  If he tried to run away he knew his father and his magick would find him.  And… he had nowhere to go anyway…              Even if his situation was “Normal” and there was no fear of magical ramifications for his defiance, to whom could he turn?   Where could he run?  There was no sanctuary for someone like him…

           Alex made his way to the secret passage, to the stone staircase that spiraled its way down to the windowless chamber.  He knocked on the heavy wooden door and announced himself for the two guards his father had watching the prisoner.  One of the guards opened the door for him.  They knew better than to question the boy’s condition but there was a slight trace of pity in at least one of them, a softening to the man’s usually unreadable expression.                          Alex managed to steadily walk to the glass cage, hiding that he was in pain.  He slowly laid his hand against the cool glass.  “Please leave us.”            “But the Magus says-“  One of the men started to protest.            “My... Father,” Alex practically spat the word, “is the one who pays you.  And I speak on his behalf.  Now go!”            The men exchanged looks and then shrugged, deciding not to argue with the young man.  They both were eager to have a tea and coffee break anyway.                        Alex lowered his hand and stood outside the cage. He looked at the pale, emaciated figure behind the glass.  He had never changed.  Not since the day they had captured him.  He had not aged, nor had he grown a beard.  And yet Alex felt as if he, himself, had changed so very much in that time. Changed in such a way that he saw now that he was in no better of a situation than this creature here.                 Trapped in darkness, trapped behind the glass, unable to touch or be touched. Alone…  Naked, exposed.  Everyone could see everything about him.  And yet he- The King of Dreams- was unashamed.  Proud.  Not trembling or cowering from a brute of a father. Alex’s contempt for the creature mingled with long, distant fear, was now being replaced by a different emotion.   Something not unlike empathy and maybe even envy.  Envy at the defiance of will, envy at the hidden power that such a fragile, delicate looking thing could have…            Almost beautiful.  The King of Dreams was almost beautiful…    

            Alexander Burgess saw this weakened, helpless wretch, and he saw himself.  A prisoner locked away from light.  A prisoner stripped of dignity. Utterly at his father’s mercy until he said or did what his father wanted…  Would this proud creature eventually cower and break as Alex felt like he had broken.                Alex bit his lip.  If he freed this creature it… he might kill him… or worse…            But maybe… Whatever his fate might be, it was better than this.  Right now, as it stood, they were both prisoners. But if he freed him, this so-called King of Dreams… At least one of them would be free.  And Alex would have some small revenge on his father, the Magus of The Order of Ancient Mysteries…                          Maybe it was some half-hearted attempt at self-destruction, a suicide without noose or razor- that Alex felt he would either die by this creature’s hand or by his father’s but he wanted this thing to end and let it end tonight.  This felt like the only true way to end it.              Alex had gotten a hold of the heavy brass key and placed it into the lock at the base of the crystalline cage.  He was really doing it.  The key fit easily into the hole of the metal base just within the binding circle’s confines.   Alex dragged his foot over the old, chalk, binding circle, deliberately breaching it, as he turned the key.  The crystalline cage opened at a discrete seam.            The pale figure stood up slowly, cautiously, moving like an uncertain animal. He blinked those wide, black eyes, like doe reacting to being offered food by a human.  

           The King of Dreams stepped out of the cage and toward Alex.  He tentatively moved beyond the binding circle as if worried that Alex might change his mind and try to stop him, or perhaps that someone else might.              Alex stepped back but only slightly.              Alex waited for whatever was to come next.              The pale figure moved to him, the glassy black eyes stared at him, stared deep into his own and for a brief moment Alex felt… understood... maybe even accepted.  And most importantly he felt… forgiven.  Not for the sin of what he was- this creature saw that as no crime, but for how he had treated him.  For taking part in the summoning spell, for being complacent in his father’s abuses and humiliation of this proud entity.              “I’m sorry…” Alexander said, swallowing back fresh tears.  “I’m sorry… It was my father, he…”            The pale figure put a finger to his own lips.* “Shhh.”            Alex was trembling, afraid of what he might do next. And for a second, there was such a softness to the usually cold creature and a slender hand touched Alex’s cheek but only for a brief moment.              Alex had never heard him speak and he was startled by the soft sound of an audible voice coming from him.  He didn’t say anything really other than the “Shhh.”           Alex blinked several times.  The King of Dreams moved past Alex, toward the stairs.              Alex went to bed shortly after that as if nothing had happened.  He had just felt so very tired.  He tried to behave as if he had not just released his father’s prisoner.  The next morning though things were different.   Alex had slept peacefully and felt quite well rested.   Even his black eye had seemed to have mostly healed and his back didn’t hurt anymore. There would be no scars after all.  But something was wrong in the house of Fawny Rig. The servants were in a tither.              Roderick Burgess would not wake form his sleep. He was alive.  And he seemed to be dreaming.  He would moan and mutter, and occasionally whimper or beg for it to stop, crying out in his sleep, but he would not waken.            Alex stood to the side of the bed. “Father!  Father, please!  It’s me, Alex!  Please wake up!  …Please.”   But the situation was hopeless.

            And despite everything he had suffered at his father’s hands Alex still grieved.  He wept as if his father was dead and he knew his father’s fate was worse than death.  Alex still mourned. Alex still pined for what might have been, still longed for a father that would love him unconditionally and accept him for who and what he was without question.   If the world’s most infamous sorcerer couldn’t even do that… who could?   Who could… love him?  

            Alex was scared.  He had been in his father’s shadow so long he did not know how to function without him and he had been so isolated, he had so few friends.  All he could do was rely on the servants, the lawyers, and his father’s money to support himself.              His father was moved to the hospital and eventually diagnosed with some sort of Encephalitis Lethargica.  A sort of brain swelling related sleeping sickness but Alexander Burgess knew better…  Somehow he knew…      

           His father would never wake up…            The years passed and everything that was Roderick’s passed into Alex’s hands.  His father died years later in that hospital bed but Alex was not sure of his father’s nightmares were truly over.   He imagined his father’s soul was still trapped somewhere, still suffering an endless nightmare leading into another nightmare, and each time he thought he was waking he would just find himself in yet another new nightmare.  Somehow Alex knew this.   Where his father was now condemned to eternal waking did he know his body had died or did he have a futile hope that he would one day wake up?  

             The estate, Roderick’s fortune, everything was now Alex’s.   No one was there to be critical or to tell Alex what to wear, how to speak, or… who he could love.   And Alex eventually met a beautiful young man named Paul.  Oh, how he loved Paul.   They would travel to such places together.   London, France, Berlin…   They traveled together on a private yacht and drank Champaign on the deck as they watched the sunset over the Mediterranean Sea. There was no secret prisoner to worry about, nothing to shackle them to Fawny Rig like Dorian Gray shackled to his painting.  They could go anywhere. They could do anything. They were free.                And Alexander Burgess lived Happily Ever After…                  It was a pleasant dream.   Too pleasant…

Elderly Alexander Burgess woke in a cold sweat. There were fresh tears in his eyes.   He sat up in bed and Paul was there beside him.  At least there was that…  At least Paul was there.  Paul was real.  

But that’s not how the story played out, not really.   Alex had never been brave enough to defy his father.  He had not slipped down to the cellar the night that he should have.  He had never freed the prisoner.  Even when his father had died he had never freed the prisoner that he both resented and related to.  And he had been the one punished with six years locked in a nightmare that would seem to end only to reveal a new nightmare was starting, and on and on it had gone.   He had woken from that “eternal” curse to his beloved Paul waiting for him.  He had been forgiven.  He was relieved that Paul was here.            Paul looked at him now. “What is it, love? Did you have a bad dream?”            Alex nodded.  “I don’t know what’s worse… that nightmare that I was trapped in or…” He bit his lip before choosing the words. “…knowing I could have saved us all… saved myself…if I had just done the right thing at the right time…”

           “Hush now, darling.  You’re still half-asleep. I’ll get you some tea.”              Alex was soothed and sighed.  There was no use dwelling on what might have been.  But sometimes those dreams of what he could have done- what he should have done, if he had just been brave enough… Sometimes that felt so much worse than the actual punishment the Lord of Dreams had subjected him to before finally forgiving him…

           But at least he was safe now.  At least he had Paul. And at least he had been forgiven. And he was loved and accepted for who and what he truly was.  And his cruel, old father, was very much dead. A loveless old man was gone.  But Alex was alive.  Paul was alive.  And they were in love.  And no one could take that away from them.  And Alex and The King of Dreams were both free from the shadow of Roderick Burgess forever.

           There was no point on dwelling on what might have been.  That did not matter now.  What mattered was the love that Alex had finally found and the freedom that he and The King of Dreams both had gained.

The End

[corvidayyy]

Howdy! I'm about to finish reading Frankenstein and I have no idea what to read next. I've already read Jekyll & Hyde, the Picture of Dorian Grey, The Invisible Man, and Dracula; All really good books, might I add. Do you have any recommendations, preferably Gothic Literature or Science Fiction related?

Hmm let’s see! I’m honestly still pretty new to gothic lit and classic sci-fi so I don’t have a ton of recommendations especially as I’ve read a lot of the same stuff as you.

It’s not sci-fi, but if you’re interested in gothic stuff and vampire lore I recommend checking out ‘Carmilla’! It came out like 20ish years before Dracula, has a largely female main cast, and It’s pretty short too, only about 25k word count.

If you like terrifying gothic short stories then I recommend Poe. His story ‘The Black Cat’ was so horrifying that it struck this horrid uneasiness into me and made me feel sick when I was younger, so if you like creepy shit, I recommend. (But be super wary of that story if nooses are a trigger!)

I personally love R.L. Stevenson’s writing and I’ve read a couple of his short stories aside from j&h. Really beautiful stuff imo, so I definitely recommend his writing beyond just j&h.

And of course, if there’s a book you really liked, you can always just check out more from the same author!

But yeah, anyway! I’m probably not the best person to ask about this lol but I hope this helps a bit!

[thenightling]

My Fictional Character obsessions as depicted in gifs

My obsessions from age ten onward as depicted in gifs.  Some of these characters have alternated in cycles over the years.  The ones with the * next to them are ones that have stood the test of time or are particularly strong obsessions. I am not posting them in a particular order, that would take too long to sort out and may change depending on my mood, however the current strongest obsession is at the bottom.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you my fictional character obsessions through the years...  Or as Tumblr calls them... My “Garbage children.”

Note: I know only some of them count as “garbage children.”   So please don’t be offended that I may have called your favorite character a garbage child.

Rumplestiltskin as depicted in the show Once Upon a Time, particularly seasons 1 through 3.  

*Loki from Norse mythology and Marvel comics.  Tom Hiddleston is a great actor but I felt I should note that the MCU version is slightly disappointing, I wish they wouldn’t downplay the magick and try to pass them off as “alien.”

*Dracula.  There are many depictions of Dracula that I am fond of / obsessed with.   Fred Saberhagen’s Dracula books for example, The Frank Wildhorn Dracula musical, and a few movie and TV versions.  

I love the 90s Dracula TV series even though he’s blond in that (not to be confused with the awful NBC show version from the twenty teens) but I have no Gifs of the 90s one.  Nor do I have any gifs of Rudolf Martin as Dracula in Buffy or Dark Prince: The True Story of Dracula though I love that one.  But here’s the most recent version to feed my obsession.  Dracula of Castlevania (The Netflix series).   Look at that Adorkable vampire!

*Jack Skellington of Nightmare before Christmas was one of my first truly all-consuming obsessions.  I played the cassette of the soundtrack to death.  I had a shelf of the toys (which were actually rare in the early 90s).  I became fixated on Danny Elfman’s singing voice as well as the gorgeous and haunting visuals.  

Sally, who helped kindle my first Frankenstein obsession because until then I had never seen an intelligent Frankenstein monster.  I hadn’t yet learned that in the original novel he was articulate (once he learned how to speak) and intelligent, and did not have a flat head or neck bolts. Sally and later The Bride (1985 movie) eventually got me to read the novel and pointed me in the right direction.

The ORIGINAL Peter Vincent from Fright Night, as played by Roddy McDowell.   I loved his character growth.  I loved watching him go from cowardly pretender to being the hero he always pretended to be and still having that B movie cheese to him.   Peter Vincent is my favorite vampire hunter.  Named after two of my favorite horror movie actors.  Peter Cushing and Vincent Price. 

Lestat.  Yes, I went through an Anne Rice obsession in my teens.  What 90s teenager didn’t?

The Dresden Files TV series, particularly Bob The Ghost AKA Hrothbert of Bainbridge as played by Broadway great, Terrence Mann.  Though short lived I loved that snarky ghost and this introduced me to the book series.  It was also the first TV series I enjoyed after my mother passed away so it has a special bittersweet place in my heart.

Another ghost character I love but I have no picture for him is Captain Gregg from the novel, movie, and TV show The Ghost and Mrs. Muir.   And Patrick Stewart as The Canterville Ghost from 1995 (as well as the original Oscar Wilde Story).  

Jareth from Labyrinth (and David Bowie).  Does he need an explanation?

Morbius from Marvel comics.  Because I just loved that emo SOB.

Nick on Forever Knight.  I went through an emo vampire phase in the 90s, okay...

The Doctor on Doctor Who

Methos from Highlander the series.  Highlander the series was a LOT better than people give it credit for.  And Methos was the first fictional character with a truly dark past I had ever seen, who mostly became a decent person after years of penance and self analysis.  It was through Highlander that I finally saw fiction and characters with shades of grey and realized things aren’t always black and white.   When they revealed Methos’ dark past I was so worried it was an excuse to kill him off and show that he was secretly evil all along but no. They didn’t do that.   Highlander taught me just how much people CAN change.   And it also taught me a lot about history and inspired me to be curious about our world and its past.   (It also often helped me with Social Studies tests.)  

Frank Langella as Dracula.

Faust from Goethe’s Faust.  (The 1926 silent film is the most faithful adaptation and actually covers Faust and Faust Part 2.  Most adaptations leave out Part 2).

Thomas Jerome Newton from The Man who fell to Earth.  Movie and novel by Walter Tevis.  Yes, depicted in the movie by David Bowie...  You’re lucky Bowie doesn’t turn up more in this list than he already does. 

Maleficent.  This one is kind of a guilty pleasure...  

As a long time book lover (One the first books I remember reading and loving was In a Dark Dark Room by Alvin Shwartz at age four...)  Belle from Disney’s Beauty and the Beast was the first Disney Princess I truly related to.  

Elisa and “Charlie” from The Shape of Water.

The Beast / Prince and Belle in Le Belle et la Bete original 1740 novel and the 2014 French film (even though that film isn’t all that faithful and Belle is a little cold, I love the visuals).

*Luke Goss as the Frankenstein Monster from the 2004 Hallmark mini-series of Frankenstein.  The most faithful adaptation of the novel to date.  Woefully under-rated.  Note, this spot is for the literary character too.

*Puck from Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream AND Disney’s Gargoyles.  I love that little bastard.

Mina and Dracula in Bram Stoker’s Dracula (1992 film)   

Emily The Corpse Bride. Also pretty much anything scored by Danny Elfman gets a slight nod here.  I love that man’s music.   It just catches me.   And I always can tell when it’s one of his scores (And no, I don’t think they all sound the same).   They’re just so beautiful and haunting.  

The Frankenstein Monster in Penny Dreadful.  The second most accurate to the novel. They even go the eyes right.

The Real Ghostbusters animated series.  Egon is what inspired me to want to study parapsychology.  I loved the nerd characters in shows like this.

Barnabas Collins in the original Dark Shadows. And 1990s version.   And Doctor Julia Hoffman, a surprisingly empowered character for a 1960s TV show, which is why it annoys me that more “modern” versions always make her sexually obsessed with Barnabas or a villain or both whereas in the original show she was Barnabas’ closest confidant and even the one Barnabas cried out for whenever he was in trouble.  (Admittedly it took hundreds of episodes for them to develop that dynamic but they got there).

Lucifer.  TV show incarnation and Sandman comics incarnation.

Cain and The House of Mystery (The House of Mystery counts as a character)

*Morpheus from Neil Gaiman’s Sandman.  My current biggest obsession.  I’m making up for lost time.  This is something I SHOULD have been obsessed with in my teens.  I’m thirty-six-years-old and was thirty-five-years-old when I read it for the first time.  Why the Hell did no one describe this thing well to me back in the 90s!? Yes, Sandman started when I was only seven-years-old but it was most popular in the mid-90s and I would have probably loved it if I only really knew what it was all about.  Instead it was always “He’s like a Goth Jareth” (which almost worked) and “You’ll love Death!  She’s so cute!” (which totally didn’t work at all...)   Don’t protect me from spoilers, damn it!  Tell me about his character growth, the gorgeous artwork, the horror hosts residing in The Dreaming, tell me about the mythology and Shakespeare references, the lore, tell me about the ambiance, the atmosphere, the humor and pathos.  For God’s sake, I SHOULD have loved this thing a LONG time ago!     

You’d be amazed how hard it is to find a gif of Morpheus- he’s never had a film or TV adaptation but there are fan films! (The gif is from The Sandman fan film, 24 Hour Diner).

________________________________  

Honorable mentions:

Lydia from the Beetlejuice animated series (My mother’s best friend often compared me to her but I think I had a crush on the character...) 

Xena: Warrior Princess (when I figured out I’m not entirely straight).  Though I think I liked Gabrielle a little more than Xena, herself. 

The mermaid in She-Creature (2001 film, not the black and white film of the same name)

The Crypt Keeper from Tales from the Crypt. 

Carmilla (vampire novella and Hammer horror film The Vampire Lovers)

Duncan Macleod from Highlander the series.

Various characters from Buffy The Vampire Slayer (TV series) including Buffy herself, Giles and Spike.

Doctor Strange (And in relation to that, Doctor Craven from the Vincent Price movie The Raven from 1963.)

Bruce “David” Banner in The Incredible Hulk, particularly as depicted by Bill Bixby.  Though that was more of a role model personality type that I saw as a truly good man in a bad situation.  

Dorian Gray from the Picture of Dorian Gray 

Elisa in Disney’s Gargoyles but I idolized her more than obsessed about her. There is a difference.    

The reason those aren’t properly on the list is because those aren’t precisely obsessions but just characters I happened to really like a lot.