#some dracula art coming soon

[mayhemchicken-artblog]

rip to everyone bidding farewell to dracula daily but i’m different. i have about 2 dozen posts saved in my drafts that i never got around to drawing and a bunch more prompts saved in a private discord server. the dracula doodles are far from over

[vickyvicarious]

Quincy has lots of foresight and level headedness as Van Helsing says. He is laconic less in the meaning of "Says little" and more with the actual definition of "Gets straight to the POINT". He sees what the matter is and instantly goes for the solution. I think that getting Mina a Portable Typewriter is part of that.

But it is still fascinating that it was him and not Jonathan who bought it. Jonathan might have been too deep into despair to think of a future in the horizon?

I mean, he also does say little as soon as matters get serious, which I think fits his character as well. It's not just Stoker writing him as more background character and forgetting to give him many lines (though I feel sure that's part of it too) but also, Quincey only hams it up when the situation calls for it. He's talkative with his buddies, and with the girl he hopes to marry, but as soon as we get into survival situations then he gets much more quiet and to the point.

Jack says that "In all our hunting parties and adventures in different parts of the world, Quincey Morris had always been the one to arrange the plan of action, and Arthur and I had been accustomed to obey him implicitly." And I think that does seem clear. He tends to think very simply/practically, and while he doesn't take on the role of leader in this group it's easy to see how he would be able to do so in another situation. He doesn't get as caught up in philosophizing or emotion; like you (and Art and Van Helsing) said, he's level-headed. He is pretty good at recognizing the core of a situation and just zeroing in on it, not being afraid to ask the relevant questions even when they might seem absurd or rude. My favorite moment being of course "Where did the blood go?" but there are others as well. And yeah, every time he tries to find a way to act about it. He notices Lucy might love someone else, asks, gets rejected, and then keeps his distance because he doesn't want to get in their way. He recognizes the blood must be going somewhere, asks about it, and then decides to guard against bats because he knows bats are something that could do that. That sort of thing. He also acts preventatively quite a lot (that foresight you mentioned), with stuff like shooting at bats or spying to see which way Dracula might flee or volunteering to ride up the riverbank in case Dracula got off at some port along the way. These are all just-in-case type actions taken to prevent a possible bad outcome.

Him getting the typewriter for Mina is nice in another way because it goes against his tendency to step back when he thinks something isn't his place. He's shown to be pretty hesitant about being somewhere he thinks he would be intruding, from stuff like not coming back to visit Lucy until Art asked him, to not going to see her on her deathbed since she didn't even know he was there, to stepping out of the room when he saw Art having a moment with Mina, to even being weirdly nervous about bursting into the Harkers' bedroom during a life-or-death situation. He likes to wait for an invitation first (not in a vampire way, haha) when it comes to interactions with people. But here, he doesn't. And I think it comes down to the day they met, when Mina saw how he was feeling and offered him comfort and validated his own grief as just as worthy. He was deeply moved and promised to be her friend from then on. Then he vowed to kill her in the name of that friendship. This is a gentler, perhaps less grand but no less meaningful, way he can express how much he cares about her, and try to in some way return the favor by attempting to lift her spirits when she is suffering.

(Mina and Quincey's friendship gets me emotional every time.)

As for why Jonathan didn't buy it... I think it is partially him not seeing the future right now. He has already said that he and Mina don't talk of the future, and while he of course is fully dedicated to hunting Dracula down and ensuring they will have a happy future together, I'm not sure it is anything he can really visualize right now. He is so very absorbed in caring for Mina in her current condition and planning to take care of Dracula in a distinctly different meaning of the word, that he doesn't have room for anything else right now. He's on the edge of breaking down as it is, and is just trying to push through, sort of like it was for him back in the castle.

But also, in a less angsty way, I think it might not have occurred to him as something he could do. He and Mina have only recently come into any sort of wealth, and a typewriter like this would be pretty expensive (I believe someone looked it up last year and it seems like Quincey dropped a pretty hefty sum on this gift). He's become used to using money much more freely of late, but it has always been for the purpose of a specific goal, not purchases for pleasure. It may not be something that even comes to mind as a reasonable act he could do for her, not yet anyway.

[beevean]

Currently hating myself and every word composed by my fingers, but I'm pushing through to get to the hopefully more interesting part.

Anyway, some headcanons regarding teen Hector and his relationships with the Tepes family coming from my WIP.

~

As soon as Hector earned his title and could stand equal to Isaac, Lord Dracula became his formal mentor, and kept a closer eye on him and his progress. He was a beast of a man, whose power and authority radiated from him and sent ghastly chills on Hector’s skin from the door of his throne room; however, despite how tiny Hector felt in his presence, his deep voice soothed his fears, and urged him to listen to him. Lord Dracula had little need for words: a nod, a tugged corner of his mouth, a hand on Hector’s shoulder that barely scratched him with his claws, the smallest acknowledgment was enough to make Hector’s knees tremble and fill his chest with emotions he had no name for, new sensations that he couldn’t get enough of.

His wife, Lady Lisa, was a more affectionate woman. She’d approach him delicately, bending forward to talk to him eye-to-eye in the same tone Hector used with his animal friends. Whenever she spoke to him, he’d bite his lip and look at his own feet and wait until she got tired of him and walked away and then he’d have to wait until his heart slowed down. Lady Lisa wasn’t scary like her husband, but he still had the instinct to protect his Devils from her, in case she got angry with him and killed them.

He was more comfortable around Prince Adrian, whenever he was alone. The dhampir boy seemed to dislike having to use words, which suited Hector just fine. He had no interest in the art of Forging either, which meant he gave the laboratory a wide berth, but Hector often found him huddled in remote corners of the library, nose buried in some book about medicine. He, too, had a Fairy friend to keep him company, bigger and more vivacious than Hector’s own; she’d sing with her tiny voice for her young Master, and the sound helped Hector studying the increasingly confusing material, bestiaries and grimoires about demonology written in discolored ink bound to give him a headache in less than an hour. But Prince Adrian would startle and run off as soon as he’d hear Isaac barge in looking for Hector (a full minute before the boy actually made his presence known: he couldn't manage to catch him by surprise), and he’d spend too much time hidden behind his mother’s skirts, which made Hector wrinkle his nose in confusion.

So Isaac was his only friend in the castle.

[thedarkone121]

How I would try to Adapt “Dracula”

Hello, resident Film student that is about to graduate here and I have been through the deep-dive of the Dracula by Bram Stoker waters. Suffice to say, I feel in love and was very disappointed that the cultural osmosis of adaptations that I grew up around to understand Dracula does not even come close to the masterpiece that I found within the original story. It’s Jonathan and Mina, by the way. Their relationship is the masterpiece of this story. Go away very problematic themes, stereotypes, and ideas, I will not let you take this relationship away from me.

Seriously, how was it possible for me to ship a Victorian couple so hard? Why do we not have this in more adaptations?! WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU HOLLYWOOD?!

…AHEM! Once again, I am sorry to my followers for another fixation has caught my attention. At least this is something I could probably put in a portfolio…

Moving back to my idea, I should make a point that I am a storyboard artist so my idea generally falls to making it into an Adult Cartoon Series. Something along the lines of the Legend of Vox Machina — because I really like that art style and it feels like it fits best with my plot.

Speaking of which, let me get into the plot! Strap in newcomers because I am a bit of a storyteller when it comes to explaining my whacky ideas, if you didn’t already figured that.

DARKY’S DRACULA ADAPTATION, GO!

The setting of my adaptation takes place relatively the same time period. In fact, things are largely the same as the beginning of the novel; Jonathan travels to the Count’s castle, he notices the strong ongoing, he has that horrible encounter with the Vampire Ladies, Dracula does who know what to him, he even has his refined taste for paprika!

You might ask yourself: “Well, how is your adaptation any different from the book?” Well, that’s easy, my good friends. Because Jonathan manages to kill Dracula that day on June 30th, where he successfully decapitates the monster that’s been tormenting him.

It all sounds well and good, right? That means no one to torment Lucy and she can have her big day with Arthur. Mina will be safe, no children get bitten. It sounds wonderful…

…But Jonathan can’t get out of the castle. He remains there, trapped, with the Vampire Ladies and a presence that won’t go away.

Months go by and Mina receives a letter, one from her missing fiancé. He is still in Romania working with the Count, but he would like for Mina to come by and look at the land. Thinking how it would be a wonderful place for a honeymoon.

Mina is confused by the contents of the letter, but it is her proof that her fiancé is alive. And now she has a location of his whereabouts.

With a sadden goodbye to Lucy due to the fact that she will miss her wedding, Mina heads to Transylvania in order to find Jonathan.

But when she arrives at the Castle, welcomed by the Three Women, Mina realizes what horrors had plagued Jonathan and now it will soon come to her.

And that’s the outline of the Pilot I had in my head. Do I think it’s possible for Jonathan to decapitate Dracula with the shovel? Probably not, but it needs to in order for this adaptation to work. And before anyone says, yes, this Adaptation is pretty much Mina Murray going all Resident Evil 7 on Dracula’s castle.

She deserves to have her rage moments. Also, she really wants to get married. If it means she has to storm a castle, then she will do that!

Some other facts that I wanted to include:

Lucy gets more of an active role in the story. She’s been poorly adapted for so long, I wanted to give her something more. She’s the Galinda to Mina’s Elphaba. You bet she’s going to lead a search party that involves her husband, their two best friends, and the silly Professor that was interested in the location in order to find her two childhood friends.

Also, yeah. Lucy and Arthur got married. I’m going to give these two a chance to be happy before things go wrong when they arrive at the castle.

The Vampire Sisters get a chance to be main villains for the first half of the show. Yes, I called them Sisters instead of Brides cause I read that two of the three look like Dracula and I’m just going to leave it at that. Also, I think the Blonde one is their mom? I’m not a hundred percent sure. It’s an adaptation. They’re getting more screen time and depth, is what I’m trying to say!

Mina has a gun, watch out.

Dracula still has a role in this story. That I can include.

I know I likened the plot to Resident Evil 7 so I ‘m just gonna go ahead and say this; Mina will not loose any of her hands.

Expect a lot of Jonmina moments, flashbacks and when they reunite included.

[betatrolls]

Updated about me :3

(pt: Updated about me :3 /end pt)

Main info:

(pt: Main info: /end pt)

⚠️‼️-> MINOR <-‼️⚠️

currently fronting: idk

any pronouns are fine, in order of preference they are she/xenos/they/it/he

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(pt: What happens on this blog: /end pt)

mostly reblogs, as well as assorted personal posts and occasional sort-of-art

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Find my spotify here, my main playlist with everything on it is "the everything"

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#4bec13

fantroll info (subject to change)

For mutuals:

second fantroll info (check the "oc: peepee poopoo" tag for more peepee poopoo and the "keyz fantroll" tag for all of my fantroll posts)

very important. i am not a good person.

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On request, I will sprite one of your fantrolls for free. If you don't have a fantroll, i can make you one, or an edit or resprite of a canon character. [examples to be linked soon lmao]

Categories coming soon:

individual headmate profiles, blinkies masterpost, and links to past analysis posts

[snakeningel]

Heard you wanted Dracula prompts? how about: Seward suitor squad sandwich. That's it, that's what I've got. Feel free to run with it if you're so inspired.

bet.

Arthur Holmwood's Diary, Written in by Quincey P. Morris, October 14th

The sun isn't up yet, so I'll take this time to write. Journalling ain't usually my thing, but some good's gotta come outta this whole vampire mess, and I'm certainly not gonna lose this memory to time or whatever meets us in Varna. Art — if you're reading this, I hope you don't mind I nicked that journal of yours. I don't have one of my own, and I know you well enough that I'm sure you'd want a record of last night too.

The three of us have been through a lot. Probably more adventures than those folks who call themselves blood brothers. We know everything about each other. Art, I know you like to gussy up your animals when you're too worried to think straight, and I've heard that I cling to people when I'm dead asleep. So I don't know why Jack thought we didn't notice him shivering up a storm in that bunk of his. He's always the first one to feel the chill, but Lord forbid the man actually open his mouth to say something about it. Art told me it was something about medical school and blood pressure that got Jack to seal his lips? Some theory about womenfolk being more susceptible to the chill, I think. Now the man would rather let his skin go blue than admit that he needs some warm bodies by his side. But it's not like anyone in this group of ours is inclined to judge anything, and at the very least, Art and I already knew about what the doctor didn't want people to suspect. Mina was even snuggled up, happy as a clam with that husband of hers. The two of them made for such a pretty picture, and I can't think why Jack was so against being like them, all warm and comfortable-like. It's not like he would ever get mad at me though, so I went and cozied up with our darling doctor. That wasn't entirely altruistic on my part. A warm body can help stave off the cold, but the presence of a true, dear friend is more than needed to fight off that darkness that we see ahead. I told Jack as much. The man won't take handouts, but he'd do anything to help his own. He's got a heart as pure as gold beneath all that gloom; besides the professor of his, I can think of no better shepherd of the sick. He held himself stiffly for the first few moments, but soon enough he was melted to my chest like a frozen cold kitten scooped up off of the ground. Art, of course, was not one to be left out, and he was bright enough to see our doctor begin to flush and think of propriety. With the smarts of the hunter he is, he strolled over and laid himself down across our laps, all cat that got the canary like. Jack certainly wasn't going to stand up and cause our lordling to topple to the floor, so the poor lad was trapped between our affections. The darling thinks himself subtle, but both Art and I are sharp enough to notice the relieved smile that curled at the edges of his pretty lips. Even without the threat of someone standing up, Art's position was far too precarious for my liking. So I tugged the two of them back with me, arranging us all on the bed more comfortably than how we had been perching on the edge. It's sweet how Jack flushes whenever I haul him around, but I wasn't inclined to embarrass him further, so I didn't say much to that effect. The three of us have bunked in worse places than a traincar that's just a tad too cold, so we settled quickly enough into a position that's comfortable for all of us. Just as I like to cling with my dear ones in my arms, Jack likes to feel the weight of something solid on both sides of him; spending too long in the realm of the mind probably leaves him needing a reminder of what is solid and real. Art, of course, managed to take up more space than we thought possible, stretching across the two of us like he was making his claim. There was a moment of silent peace, all of us understanding each other without a word shared. But our doctor couldn't stop his buzzing brain, and soon enough he opened his mouth to speak.

"What if-"

It doesn't take the brightest mind to figure out that he was going to let himself discuss only the worst possibilities, so with all the grace that I could never muster, Art rumbled out the sweetest, laziest whine into Jack's chest. That was enough to stop that train of thought in its tracks. The claim that Art holds over our Jack's heartstrings is nothing short of impressive, but they've had decades to grow fond of each other, I suppose. Still, such an efficient shutdown of Jack's overthinking ways did tickle me, so I suppose a chuckle escaped my mouth. Again, our doctor goes red, though I suppose the rumble of my chest against his face sparked some other, better thoughts in his head. I wish he knew that he need only ask, and both Art and I would be happy to do whatever he wished to him. But this isn't time to push; perhaps after we come back from this latest adventure of ours, we'll sit our boy down to run another gauntlet of proposals.

But I'm not keen thinking too far into an uncertain future. There's no point until the evil we're hunting is cold and scattered on the wind. At some point, the warmth and comfort lulled us to sleep; I couldn't tell who went first into that land of rest, but as with all things, those of us left behind wasted no time to follow. That's where Art and Jack still are now, finally getting the rest and comfort we've all been neglecting of late. The train is still rolling along to our destination, and no matter what we face in Varna, I am happy to know that this moment will not slip into the oft-forgotten past. The two of them don't look like they will be stirring anytime soon, so I suppose I will return and join them for as long as they will have me.

[seleneblue]

Winter Fruit (Part 1)

x. Dracula 2020 x. Dracula x Reader x. Explicit x. Summary: A new life, a new chapter, and everything is getting so heated. x. Word count: 630

“What is it that you desire?”

So lush, lovely, and dark. The vampire’s voice is like a fine and deadly syrup. The vowels tickle in your ear like a beautiful, sinister little dance.

The sun slowly dips below the horizon. Plush curtains and lamps with soft amber glows blocked out most of the golden rays, except for one sliver peeking through a far off window. Close enough for you to see the waning sunlight, and far away to do any harm. Soon, the night would bloom with pinholes of stars like silent cosmic guardians flitting over your darkest desires.

The vampire is talking to you.

You reach for an onyx bowl and finger a fresh fig, delaying the inevitable answer Dracula already knew. Days passed—maybe even a week—since you eschewed your old life. Abandoned routines and livelihoods to run head first into his arms with no plan, present or future.

You make eye contact with him and bite into the petal-soft ripened fig instead of answering. You hope it burns him. Just a little bit, enough for some delicious trouble.

Dracula says your name one more time. The urge to say Yes, Daddy pulsates in your throat.

You eat the rest of the fig. “Mm, you.”

In Dracula’s chambers the fireplace is full of blue and orange tipped flames. Something else in you is already burning, it’s mossy and ancient. Carnality lives in your mouth.

If only he would fully taste it.

Everything around you both is an embrace and a spell. Wreaths of dried pomegranates and lamb’s ear (fairy treasures, Dracula tells you), candle sconces, and portraits of beautiful women and men long gone adorn the flocked velvet wallpaper. The room is warm and the heat pools inside your belly in wild anticipation of his mouth, his such sharp teeth.

In this arid, forest-tinged museum is where new art will be made—Dracula’s worship of you.

+++

Dracula is upon you before you take a new breath. The scent of you is intoxicating, like a lush forbidden fruit. The rising heat makes you both hunger.

“What is it that you desire?” he asks again.

At this moment, you study his hands. How close they are to your neck, how large they are against your skin. His fingers trace lines at your clavicles, the other hand reaching to your breast and teases your nipples.

You gasp. Dracula continues.

“Yesterday, you asked me to rip your dress off into shreds,” he says into your ear. “And you rode my thigh.”

Dracula nips at your neck. Teasing, so much teasing. You moan and his eyes turn red. “The day before that, I worshiped your slit again and again.” You grin, remembering the delicious forced orgasms, quivering in a pile of sticky sweat with pinpricks of blood glistening at your throat.

Dracula shivers with arousal. “You are beautiful, my dove,” he says.

He bites you hard, leaves a trickle of blood on your neck and chest in his destructive wake.  Sighing, you try to muster the words of your desire. “Tell me,” he commands.

The small puncture marks on your neck ache with pleasure. Your lips feel warm, pulsating at the prospect of his kisses, and even more pleasure. Languid thoughts race through your head, if he could take you fully. If Dracula could make you truly his.

Dracula lazily pinches your nipples again, your body keeps heating up. The wet space between your thighs throbs. “I want you,” you say. “All of you—completely inside me.”

He straddles you and that sickly divine scent of mythology and dark pomegranates fills your nose. You’re ready to take him, to be filled up with his hard hot sex. You’re ready to be a bride.

“You wish is my command,” Dracula says. “My bride.”

Part 2 (Coming soon, hopefully by the end of this week.)

[wavyhairedvixen]

fandom: (heavily inspired by) Bram Stoker’s Dracula

tags: smut, vampire, adult content, f/m relationship, readerxDracula, shortstory

Contains 18+ content

Holiday gone awry

Chapter 1

As you peered out of the window of the cab you could see the outlines of what seemed to be a castle on top of a nearby hill. The moon was full and the trees cast eerie shadows along the road leading up the hill. A howl could be heard in the distance sending shivers down your spine.

“What was that?” You asked the taxi driver.

“Nothing you should be concerned about, Miss,” answered the scruffy looking cabby in a bored tone.

Suddenly everything went dark as a cloud obscured the moon and the howling became louder. Your blood froze in your veins when you heard the panting and growling of the creatures of the forest. You peeked out of the window again and saw hundreds of red eyes glowing in the dark creeping closer to the vehicle.

Suddenly as the cloud passed and the moonlight illuminated the land once again the frightening sight was gone just like the howls and growls of the hounds of hell.

“What were those creatures?” You asked with a trembling voice.

The pale skinned man exchanged a quick look with you and shrugged, turning his stoic gaze back to the road.

The car came to a halt as it reached the main entrance of the castle. You quickly hopped out of the vehicle and hurried to the wooden porch of the gothic mansion. The chilly air carried the smell of earth and damp leaves. You knocked on the monstrous ironbound door a few times before it opened with a creaking sound. To your surprise there was a tall shadow leaning onto the doorframe. For a brief moment, you forgot all the horrors you had encountered along your journey and just stood there, admiring the man in front of you. He was around six feet tall, wearing a black turtleneck sweater that complemented his icy blue eyes, pale skin and slicked-back raven hair. He greeted you with a genuine smile and a flicker of mischief in his gaze.

“Good evening, Miss y/n! Please come in, and let Pierre take care of your luggage.”

He stepped aside, motioning toward the hall of the building. As soon as you stepped over the treshold, the heavy oak door closed with a loud thud. The butler didn’t even bother to look at you as he took your bags.

“Good evening! You must be Mr. Awry, it’s nice to meet you!” You smiled and held out a hand to the man.

The man took your hand and planted a kiss on your knuckle. „It’s a pleasure to meet you too, Miss y/n!” he greeted you and gently assisted in taking off your coat. „I will show you to your room after dinner,” explained the tall man. “Now, please follow me! I assume you must be tired after the long trip from the city to my residence,” he went on as he led you into a spacious room. The walls were covered with crimson-colored tapestry and Persian rugs were scattered all over the floor.

There was a fireplace at the far end of the room , with a large wooden dining table stretching in front of it. Paintings adorned the walls, some of them depicting mythological tales. You recognized the one closest to you which showed the Abduction of Persephone. In the middle of the picture stood a strong man – Hades - holding the graceful body of Persephone, whom the god of the underworld kidnapped and took to the realm of the dead. Due to the gloomy atmosphere of the room you couldn’t make out the rest of the paintings covering the walls between the pieces of mahogany furniture. Cabinets were filled with different types of relics - daggers, vials, armor, and jewelry. You followed your host to the dining table which was already set for two.

“Please, take a seat!” said the man as he pulled out a chair for you.

“This place is beautiful!” you marveled at your surroundings while taking a seat. “Your home is a work of art, Mr. Awry!”

The count’s lips curled into a smile at your remark as he opened a bottle of red wine.

“Tell me, what lives in the forest? On my way here I think I saw something…unusual,” you frowned.

“Oh, those were just wild boars, my dear. You don’t have to worry about them!” the count reassured you with an amused smile.

He poured a glass of wine for you as he feasted his eyes on you for a moment before taking a seat across from you. You were bewitching, like a temptress with your long wavy ginger hair that appeared golden in the dim candlelight. You were practically starving, so you dug into your dinner and didn’t pay much attention to the man’s hungry gaze. As you took a sip of wine to wash down the food, you glanced at your host. He was intimidating, with his broad shoulders, strong arms, and eyes sparkling with curiosity. Even though you had just met this stranger, you felt somehow drawn to him.

“I heard you write books, Miss y/n,” remarked the man. His voice was deep and calming, having a soothing effect on your nerves. “And I also heard that your books are… rather exciting,” the count went on, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked at you with such an intense stare that you felt like the man could read your thoughts. “Could you tell me about your next novel?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and circling the edge of his glass with his middle finger.

You blushed a deep shade of red and took another sip from your wine. You didn’t expect your host to be so well-informed about your passion of writing.

“Well I have some ideas for my next book. It’s going to be a crime story. The main reason I came here is because I need to spend some time alone so I can focus on what I love doing the most. It is only a hobby, but it means so much to me,” you rambled with enthusiasm. “Oh, and thank you for the dinner, Mr. Awry. It was delicious! And the wine too!” You stopped, being suddenly aware of your host’s hungry gaze on you.

The man stood up and walked over to you with the bottle of wine in his hand. He poured you another glass and sat down next to you. He was so close that you could smell his intoxicating cologne. You fiddled with the napkin in your lap as you stared at the elaborate details on the piece of cloth.

“You’re welcome Miss y/n! It is my pleasure to have such a beautiful and intelligent company as you are,” Mr. Awry said on a soft tone and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “If you would like, I would gladly show you the land surrounding my property tomorrow,” the count offered as he took one of your tiny hands in his big ones.

“I would appreciate that Mr. Awry,” you muttered the words with a smile and felt your face heat up again.

“Please, call me James,” said the man and stroked your hand with his thumb gently.

“I think it’s time for me to get some rest. Could you show me to my room, please?” you asked, pulling your hand away from the count. You were so confused – you felt a burning desire towards this handsome stranger; however, you weren’t sure if he could be trusted. As you got up from your seat you clumsily knocked over your glass with your hand. It fell off the table, shattering on the wooden floor into tiny pieces. You bent down to collect the shards from the ground.

“I’m so sorry!” You apologized.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it!” the count insisted as he crouched down next to you.

“Damn it!” You cursed through clenched teeth as a sharp piece of glass cut into the palm of your hand.

“Are you all right?” asked the count and grabbed your hand to inspect the wound. He pecked a kiss on your palm where the glass had cut it and then licked away the blood. He kept his hungry eyes locked with yours for a moment before snapping out of his feral state.

"There’s no need to rush, little one…" the count whispered, his eyes locked onto yours as he released your hand.

The atmosphere in the room was tense, and you were torn between the urge to run out the door and the desire to stay with this alluring and probably unhinged man. As you weighed your options he got up and wallked to a cabinet, which he opened to pour himself a glass of ruby-colored beverage. After quickly downing it, he turned around and grabbed the edge of the table keeping his eyes on the ground.

"Is everything all right?" Your voice barely above a whisper, taking a cautious step towards him.

The count lifted his chin to meet your gaze, his eyes bloodshot – no, not bloodshot, rather glowing red, just like the eyes of those creatures you encountered in the forest – from whatever he had consumed. He placed one of his hands on the small of your back, pulling you towards him, and pressed his lips to yours in a deep and passionate kiss. You parted your lips so the count’s tongue could enter your mouth and caress yours. As you devoured each other with long, sensual strokes, the count grabbed your bottom with both hands and gave it a firm squeeze. A small moan escaped your lips as he pressed you against the bulge in his pants. You passionately tugged on the man’s lower lip earning a growl from him. The count pulled away from you, and for a moment, you caught a glimpse of his sharp fangs. Your eyes widened in shock as you finally put the pieces together. You swallowed nervously, heart pounding in your chest.

"Do not fret y/n, I won’t hurt you…" He murmured and wrapped one hand around your throat.

Your breath hitched as you felt a strange mix of fear and excitement wash over you. He kissed you, this time more ferociously. You sucked on the count’s tongue in response, earning a growl from him.

“You‘ve got potential I must admit…” He chuckled as he brushed his lips along your neck.

He stopped just above your collarbone, and planted a soft kiss on your smooth skin, then tenderly grazed his teeth over the same spot. He planted a few more kisses along your neck, before whispering in your ear, “Your body is exquisite. I wonder what you taste like…” As he whispered the words, his hands travelled to your waist, relishing every inch of your figure.

Then he pulled the strap of your dress down your shoulder, baring one of your breasts. He bent down to wrap his mouth around your nipple, sucking on your sensitive bud. With one skillful hand he pulled up your skirt and stroked over your mound with his dexterous fingers, then cupped it, squeezing it gently.

“So wet already…” He sighed and his nostrils flared as he noticed the sign of your arousal.

You could smell the sweet scent of musk mixed with leather, and a hint of oak on him, which made your core heat up with desire. You felt as if he had put a spell on you.

Suddenly the tall man lifted you and carried you to a nearby sofa next to the fireplace, positioning you so that your hips hung slightly off the edge. He tore the front of the delicate fabric of your dress so that your body was completely exposed. He got rid of your underwear in a quick manner and threw it aside. Then he swiftly put your thighs around his strong shoulders as he got on his knees. He kissed his way down your belly slowly before he buried his face into your cunt. He started to eat you out relentlessly — he pushed his stiff tongue against your clit and licked it with quick and vigorous laps.

“You taste so bloody delicious darling,” Grumbled the count as he placed one palm over your stomach just below your navel to put a little pressure on it.

The vibrations of his deep voice almost sent you over the edge. He licked up the juices leaking from your entrance then licked over your clit again, occasionally sucking, and nibbling on it. You arched your back, pushing your pussy into the man’s face. In response he grabbed your waist with both hands, squeezing it tightly while keeping you in place. As you got closer to your climax the count pushed one finger into your pussy.

“Oh, you’re so tight… Your cunny is perfect.” He groaned as he pushed in a second finger and started to slowly move them in and out curling his fingers while doing so.

You moaned and thrashed around in the his strong grip as you felt your orgasm approaching — pussy so swollen and throbbing that it was almost painful now. The earl felt that you were close to your climax, so he stopped licking your bud and instead started to pepper kisses along the insides of your thighs.

“Please, let me cum!” you whimpered and thrusted your hips toward the man. “Don’t torture me…please!” you pleaded.

The earl smiled and brushed his fingertips along the outside of your thighs as he started to lick your clit again with long lazy laps. You bit your lip as you felt your orgasm building up anew. He pushed two of his fingers into you again and started massaging your sweet spot while lapping at your swollen bud. You grabbed his hair, lightly scraping his scalp with your nails as you felt utter bliss flush through your body. Your walls clenched around his fingers as your muscles contracted, while juice started oozing out of your pussy, dripping down the count’s hand. Like a starved man he drank up every ounce of your arousal and licked his fingers clean.

Your pussy was still oversensitive, and you were extremely turned on. You wanted to feel his cock inside you. As you propped yourself up on your elbows the man unbuckled his belt with one hand and took off his pants. You lunged forward and pulled down his underwear, letting his manhood spring free. He was well-endowed — precum dripping from the tip of his long and thick cock. You pulled back the skin with one hand and put the tip in your mouth. You swirled your tongue around the head of the penis and sucked on it, relishing his taste then started to bob your head back and forth. He combed through your hair with his long fingers, grabbing the back of your head tenderly, guiding you to take him deeper. You obeyed and let him slide into your throat, moaning around his shaft. You tried to relax but you couldn’t keep yourself from gagging. As the muscles in your throat squeezed his cock he let out a shaky breath.

“You’re doing amazing, my little vixen,” he murmured peering down at you.

He thrusted into your mouth a few times before he pulled out.

“I want to cum in that tight pussy of yours. Now get on your back and spread your legs,” he commanded, and as soon as you were on your back, he wedged himself between your thighs.

He slid his cock in, and begun thrusting his hips. In this position the tip of his penis was rubbing right against your sweet spot. As he picked up the pace you felt another orgasm building in your belly, however this time the sensation was much more intense than anything you had ever experienced. The count grunted as he thrusted into you, and he was so hot. His strong and hairy chest and broad shoulders gave him a statuesque appearrance, not to mention his pale skin that glistened like marble in the dim lighting.

As he kept fucking you, you started to feel the overwhelming sensation of your orgasm approaching. And then you came, your walls spasming around his cock, squeezing it repeatedly as you reached your high. However it didn’t stop there, you kept coming as he fucked you roughly. You felt orgasm rushing through your body over and over sending you straight to heaven - you felt like floating, your pussy and belly quivering with each orgasm. When the count couldn’t hold back any longer, he came as well, and you felt his hot seed spill into you. After he filled you with his cum he bent down to plant a kiss on your neck. He nibbled gently on the soft skin, then grazed his sharp fangs over the mark he left.

You were still in your post orgasmic haze when the man pulled himself out of you, and scooped you up into his arms, carrying you up the stairs into his bedroom. He lay you down onto a bed and tucked you in. Then he lied next to you and ran his fingers through your hair as he kissed your forehead.

“Goodnight my sweet y/n…” he whispered in your ear while stroking your shoulder.

You snuggled up to him and let out a sigh as you drifted off to sleep.

[an-angels-fury]

A Star Wars/Dracula AU

After passing many days listening to Love Song for a Vampire from Annie Lennox and thinking about how the lyrics suit Anidala perfectly, I decided to write down a AU idea (a Vaderdala one, to be more specific) that has already been in my mind for some time, inspired by the same plot of the movie Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992).

//----------------------//-----------------------//

A long time ago, the young Anakin Skywalker was once a powerful knight of the Ancient Jedi Order and one of the bravest warriors of the Naboo army, known for leading and comanding thousands of battalions in bloody wars for the conquest of territories, fighting for the protection of the Jedi Temple and spreading their holy influence.

Secretly married to the ruler of the kingdom Queen Amidala, the woman who owned his heart and soul and who he loved against all social rules and the sacred code of the religious order which he grew to respect, obey and defend, they both planned to run away to a place where they wouldn't be forced to lie and hide their feelings for each other ever again.

Sadly, weeks after Anakin was called to the battlefield again, an arrow from the enemy army was shot towards the castle, sending a false message that the Jedi were defeated and the lands of Naboo were invaded. Heartbroken for believing her beloved had died in combat, the Queen writes a goodbye letter, telling she would join him soon in Heaven and their souls would be finally united by God for all eternity, before jumping from the highest tower of the castle and falling into the river, drowing.

When Anakin returned and discovered what happened, her letter was already found and her body brought to the altar of the Temple. The Jedi told him that since she took her own life, her soul couldn't be safe and, therefore, she was eternally cursed. With the revelation of their marriage, Anakin was expelled from the Order and condemned to exile. Before he left, Anakin screamed in agony and promised he would come back from the dead to avenge his love.

Feeling abandoned and betrayed after having everything he devoted all his life to build taken from him - his name, his glory and his love - Anakin's heart, full of rage, grief and despair, chose to rejoice the light and succumb to the darkness. On his way, he's found by Sheev Palpatine - also known as Darth Sidious -, Supreme Lord of the Sith Empire and greatest enemy of the Jedi. Instead of killing the former knight, Sidious, tempted by Anakin's abilities and the burning hate that was consuming him, promised to teach the young man about the secrect arts of dark magic, including the precious gift of deceiving death, as long as he pleaged himself to him. Anakin accepted his offer and became his apprentice. He turned against the Jedi Order and, as act of revenge, helped Sidious to destroy their temple and hunt down all their members, later killing his new master as well and taking the lead of his empire.

As years went by, the fallen knight, now known as the mighty Darth Vader, started to realize that the power he so longed for actually possessed him so deeply to the point of becoming a curse, a eternal punishment. He didn't age anymore. The sunlight burned his skin. His body was pale and cold. No food or drink was enough to satisfy his appetite. His heart stopped beating. He was still alive somehow, but he looked and felt dead. He lived a human life surrouded by blood and death before, and now, blood and death are the only things he would have in his new life. Forever. As a lonely monster... a creature of shadows... still waiting for the day when the spirit of his wife, his angel, would come back to him.

Centuries later, Lord Vader, living isolated in his imposing domain on the top of the dark mountains of Mustafar, finds out that his long deceased queen is now reincarnated as a spiritous and intelligent, and equally beautiful, woman called Padme Naberrie, who is currently engaged to Palo, an young man whose name was beginning to receive attention in the art world and, at first, was hired by Vader to create a new piece to decorate his home. After seeing a small photo of Padme carried by Palo in his pocket, Vader decides to kidnap the artist and keep him captive in his castle while he travels to Coruscant to find the lady he believes to be his soulmate and make her his once again. And in the exact moment their paths cross and their eyes find each other in the middle of the streets, it feels like no time had passed at all. It was like their love was strong enough to make him feel human again. And to make her feel more alive than she ever did before.

But the dark lord's plans are threatened when Palo escapes from his prison, barely with life, and a sudden wave of mysterious murders starts to ravage the territory, apparently all caused by the same creature: a devilish, bloodthirsty beast. All the dead bodies of the victims have one detail in common: two little fang marks on their necks. Since no one is capable to understand the cause of all this killing, Ben Kenobi, famous scientist, teacher and monster hunter, is called to solve this case, but what the old man doesn't expect is that this investigation will lead him to finally face his cruelest opponent, the same monster he's been chasing for all those years.

//-----------------------//----------------------//

So it's basically this. Hope you all enjoyed 😘 I'm not sure if this story would end like in the movie or in a totally different way. What do you think? 😄

And to be sure no one gets confused:

Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader as Prince Vlad Tepes/Count Dracula

Queen Amidala/Padme Naberrie as Princess Elisabetha/Wilhelmina 'Mina' Murray

Palo as Jonathan Harker

Obi Wan 'Ben' Kenobi as Abraham Van Helsing

(Palpatine's character doesn't exist in the original plot, I just tried to find a way to include him in the story)

[themaribatpit]

A Return To Gotham: Chapter 1

Prompt: Target (Jasonette July) @maribat-calendar-events

Rating: T

Ships: Jason Todd/Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Contains: OC children, tooth-rotting fluff, 

A/N: Sorry these are coming out at a snail’s pace, been very busy with other life stuff. We hope you enjoy it as these ideas have been in the works for a while now. - Maribat Girl

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Marinette sat bored at the cash register at her family bakery, it had been a slow day. She watched people walk past, with a customer or two stepping in. She hoped business would pick up, she checked her watch, school should be closing soon and then they'll get a wave of customers.

Jason emerged from upstairs carrying their infant son asleep in his arms, wearing a frilly pink apron, wiping his sweat with a towel. "Have the kids come home yet?" 

Marinette chuckled as she saw her husband in a pink apron, in all their 14 years of marriage, she still never expected him to turn out like this. "Not yet, school won't be over for another five minutes." She gave her husband a kiss on the lips. 

Their child stirred and cooed in his father’s arms "Wakey-wakey, happy to see me, kiddo?"

"I'm pretty sure Louis likes you more," Marinette joked as the baby laughed in Jason's hands. 

Laughter quickly turned to cries, Jason gave a quick sniff before passing the baby to Marinette "Do you mind doing it? Customers probably don't want any surprises in their pain au chocolat." 

Marinette laughed at Jason's crude joke and brought the child upstairs for a diaper change, while Jason took over the register.

On cue, students from Collège Françoise Dupont across the road flooded in for treats and snacks. Students selected their favourite bread and cakes and queued to pay, one student however just grabbed one from the display and began eating.

"Hey! That girl didn't pay!" One student yelled and pointed.

"I live here dumbass," the girl said as she took another bite from her palmier.

Jason couldn't help but chuckle from his daughter's response "Welcome home Emma," he said with a grin. 

Emma smiled back "Palmiers are great as always," she said as she made her way behind the counter.

Emma Todd, handsome, clever and rich, with a comfortable home and happy disposition, seemed to unite some of the best blessings of existence, and had lived nearly thirteen years in the world with very little to distress or vex her.  

As the sudden rush of customers died down, a young boy entered all on his lonesome. There was a large backpack over his shoulder and a sketchbook tucked under his arm. “I’m home.” 

Jason greeted his son with a smile, “Welcome back Hugo, how was school?” 

“Good, can I have some macaroons?” Hugo asked politely. Jason nodded in response and gave the boy macaroons in a paper bag. “Thank you,” Hugo said as he made his way upstairs. 

Hugo Todd, clumsy and scatterbrained, eight years of age with a love of art that rivalled his mother’s love of fashion. He carried his sketchbook almost everywhere and would usually get sidetracked and draw whatever caught his attention. 

Hugo took after his mother, and little did he know, Jason kept his many drawings over the years in a little drawer in his study.  Hugo would also watch in awe as their hamster, Marron, made his way through his cage.  Emma took after Jason, and in more recent years he pretended not to notice his copy of Dracula being moved ever so slightly every time he saw it on his shelf.  Jason made sure to keep his copies of Madame Bovary, Les Liaisons Dangereuses, and Thérèse Raquin far out of her reach. Hugo was a gentle soul who wouldn’t hurt a fly, while Emma was brash and stubborn.  She was a lot like him that way, but Jason always hoped her sharp mind would be used as a tool and never a weapon.  

If you had told Jason over two decades ago that his trip to Paris would end with him meeting their local heroine, falling in love with her, and raising a family with said heroine, he would have laughed in your face.  Yet, here he was, as Marinette and her family welcomed him with open arms into their lives.  They didn’t know or care about his past, they treated him as part of their family.  Marinette was the only one who knew the truth about his past, considering that they first crossed paths as Ladybug and Red Hood.  He told her all about what happened, from fighting crime at Batman’s side since he was 13, to dying at 15 and being brought back to life, to becoming one of the most formidable crime lords in Gotham.  It should have had her running for the hills, but she also got her powers at a young age and took on the heavy burden of becoming the Guardian of a box full of magic jewelry.  One morning, Sabine caught him in Marinette’s room hastily putting on a shirt to cover the bandages, she gave Marinette a knowing smile before inviting them down for breakfast.  Not long after they got married, Marinette got pregnant with Emma. Considering his own sordid family history, Jason couldn’t even imagine raising one kid who wouldn’t turn out as messed up as he was, nevermind three.  Yet, so far his children weren’t afraid of him, they weren’t fending for themselves on the streets, and they weren’t going toe to toe with criminals every night.  So, he told himself he was at least doing something right.  He still kept tabs on what went on in Gotham, but he hadn’t spoken to anyone in the Bat clan for some time.  Jason had been given the chance to begin anew in Paris, and so far it worked out well for him.  

Jason was brought out of his thoughts with the jingle of the door opening “Welcome to the Jason & Marinette Boulangerie Patisserie.” 

A young woman with blue hair entered the shop and chuckled as Jason said his line, “Must you say that tacky line all the time Uncle Jason?” 

“Just for you Lian,” Jason said as he hugged the young woman. “How’s your old man? What’s that crazy asshole done now?” 

Lian sighed, “He asked Auntie Emiko to team up as Red Arse,” 

“Oh shit, here we go again,” Jason jokingly groaned.

“He misses you, keeps asking me to check up on you and make sure you’re staying out of trouble,” Lian said as she looked through the various loaves of bread and pastries. 

“Bold words for someone who once tested out their flamethrower on the shower,” Jason retorted. “Is he staying out of trouble?” Roy fought his inner demons with tooth and nail, in hopes of becoming the father that Lian deserved.

Lian tapped her chin thoughtfully, “It’s been 30 days since one of his experiments blew up in his face,” she remarked jokingly, “So, yeah I’d say he’s doing okay.” Lian pointed to the loaf she wanted, “I’ll have the Boule,”. 

“Good choice, it’s on the house,” Jason said as she packed the loaf into a paper bag. “The door’s always open for him to visit himself if he’s ever free,” Jason said as he gave the bag to Lian. “Also tell him he’s not getting any freebies,” Jason quickly added as she walked out of the shop with her free loaf of bread.

Roy was one of the only people who knew what really happened to Jason, not that he told him, he just found him.  Emma was a toddler at the time, when one afternoon, a familiar face with a hideous auburn goatee walked into the bakery.  Jason tried to keep his back turned, hoping Roy wouldn’t recognise him.  He’d managed to make a new life for himself here, and the last thing he needed was his past showing up on his doorstep once more.  He busied himself kneading the bread in the back room, while Sabine was working the counter.  

“Jason!” Sabine called out to the back room, “Give this young man a fresh loaf of pain de campagne,”

Jason swore internally, “Uh, the next batch of brioche needs a bit more kneading,” 

“Oh that's fine, Tom can help you there, can’t you darling?” Sabine asked her husband. He gave a quick nod and walked into the kitchen. 

Jason walked out with the requested loaf of bread, already packaged into the shop’s signature paper bag. Roy squinted his eyes slightly as Jason handed him the bag, “You look familiar…”

“Is that so?” Jason kept his gaze low, as he pulled his hair net down. 

“You American as well?” Roy asked, knowing the answer as he clearly heard their exchange earlier.  

“Yeah, I’ve been living here for a few years,” he said and hoped that would be the end of it. Roy would walk out of the shop and leave him to his new life.  The trouble was that he knew Roy, he’d seen him persistently tinker away at his inventions and it was unlikely that this trait of his ever faded.

“Seriously, you remind me of an old friend of mine,” he said, the goatee twitched as he smirked, “his name was also Jason, and he just kinda fell off the face of the earth one day.” “Is that so? Wondered what happened to him?” Jason asked, he looked out the window at the pedestrians strolling past. 

“Dunno, some people thought he died.” Roy shrugged, Jason wondered if he was better off having Bruce thinking he got himself killed a second time. Roy looked around to see if anyone was listening before he whispered, “Personally, I never believed it, I thought he was too stubborn to die a second time.”

Jason sighed, resigned to his fate, “Been a while, Roy.”

“So it really is you, what are you doing here?” Roy ran up and enveloped his friend in a hug. 

Jason hugged back a little reluctantly, he wasn’t too happy about an aspect of his past reemerging. But, in the case of Roy, he was willing to make an exception. 

Sabine gasped when she came back and saw them, “Two old friends meeting again, how lovely. How did you two meet by the way?” she asked. 

“Dude, what’s your cover story?” Roy whispered.  

“Um, our families were close,” Jason quickly answered Sabine. 

“Jason, go take your break, it's fine. Catch up with your friend.” Sabine shooed the two out of the bakery. 

Jason and Roy walked into a quiet alley near the bakery to talk, “So, you became a baker?” Roy said as he tried to hold back his laughter.

“Mhmm, I’ve left all of ‘that’ behind. I got married and settled down, I have a daughter too,” Jason admitted.

“Ah, so who’s the lucky lady?” Roy winked, unaware of the fact that he literally summed up his wife in two words.  

“My wife’s family owns the place, that tiny old lady you saw a moment ago is my mother-in-law,” Jason told him.

“Do they know?” Roy asked, “About literally anything that happened in your past?”

“Only my wife knows, and no one else. Red Hood has no place here, and I intend to keep it that way. I’m not raising my daughter to fight supervillains,” he doesn’t know what he would do if something bad were to happen to Emma and his veins burned with rage at the thought.  Marinette could hold her own, but neither of them planned on passing the torch to Emma.  

“Fair enough,” Roy said. 

Jason exhaled, “I’m trying to lay low, I guess you could say I took this chance to start over. I don’t want word getting out, especially to Bruce,” he explained “I sure as hell don’t want them to become a target either.”

“Hey, what do you take me for? Some loud blabbermouth?” Roy put his hand to his chest in a show of being hurt.

“Yes,” Jason responded bluntly, and there were too many people close to Roy with the power to go rooting around in people’s minds. 

“Ouch, fine point taken. I won’t tell anyone, you have my word.” Roy raised his fist towards Jason, he responded by bumping his fist. 

Jason smiled as he reminisced of his chance encounter with Roy all those years ago. Ever since then him and Lian would occasionally stop by the bakery whenever they were in Paris.  Over the years, Roy had become more and more busy, either fighting crime in Star City or helping rear a new generation of heroes in Jump City. 

“The kids and I are going for a quick walk in the park,” Marinette announced as she walked down the stairs, stroller in hand and their following behind her. 

“Alright take care,” Jason said.

That afternoon in Paris, Terry McGinnis stepped out of the taxi into the heart of the city. He gaped at the beautiful sights, the Haussmann Architecture of the surrounding buildings. “Wow, so this is Paris, it's just like the post cards.” 

“Stay focused, Kid,” Bruce said over the headset, “You’re looking for the ‘Guardian’, and our only lead is Ladybug.”  

[cjbee]

Sorry for the Mob Psycho Art if you only care about Dracula but it’s getting me through Art block so bear with me- however I have some cool Dracula stuff coming soon! Lots of ideas!

[maxwell-grant]

May I please ask if you've been following the impact of DRACULA DAILY across Tumblr? (Also, might I please ask how you think Guillermo from WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS has been dealing with this particular web phenomenon?).

Only through what shows up on my timeline, but what a fascinating development this has been and you can imagine the vindication I feel over seeing this many people respond so positively to the book and particularly the cast. It was kinda wild to go, from living in a world where Jonathan Harker was considering a boring nothing for anyone but diehard Dracula book fans, to be suddenly swamped with sighs of appreciative fan art and texts talking about him and his predictament, even before Mina showed up. I love seeing people finally, finally, FINALLY give Lucy appreciation and see with disgust just how dirty and insidiously adaptations have treated her. I'm not actively following Dracula-Daily mostly because it just slips my mind and I don't feel like rereading Dracula so soon, but seeing posts related to it brightens my mood a great deal.

"how you think Guillermo from WHAT WE DO IN THE SHADOWS has been dealing with this particular web phenomenon?"

Ask me when the next season comes out because HOO BOY, if they don't weasel out of what they set up last episode, we should be getting some very interesting episodes indeed about Guillermo.

[beevean]

I went through the trouble of retranslating the MF manga, because you never know what you can find :)

A typical mistake: the translation keeps "Rosaly-nee-chan" as "Sister Rosaly", implying that Ted or all the children she's taking care of are her actual siblings. It confused me the first time around :P

English: "Adrian... Not just Hector, but now you too. Foolish betrayers..."

Japanese: "アドリアン…　ヘクターのみならず貴様までが。愚かな裏切り者どもめ…"

The translation is 1:1, but it's one that contains multiple nuances. Dracula calls Alucard kisama, the suffix ども implies a higher status of the speaker, and the suffix め is even more derogatory. Dracula is mad :)

English: "A great many of us will be coming..."

Japanese: "ほどなく、奴が来る"

"He will be coming soon."

I like the implication that Hector is lumping himself with the demons, but he's clearly talking about Isaac here. What makes it weirder, though, is that Ted asks what he means by "我らの"... something Hector never says. Whoops.

English: "I am the Devil's Sorcerer. At an evil castle to the east of here... I immersed myself in evil, and I commanded evil. My powers attract the ways of the darkness. They are cursed. Although I am human, I acquired the art of creating devils... and there is no doubt that they inflict harm on humanity."

Japanese: "俺は悪魔精錬師。ここより東、魔の城で…　魔を帯び、魔を従え、悪魔を作り出す術を身につけた。俺の力は闇の眷属を引きつける呪われた力だ。人の身であれど、人に害為す存在には違いないな…"

"I am a Devil Forgemaster. To the east of here, in the Demon Castle… I was entrusted with demons and I subdued them: I acquired the art of creating devils. Mine is a cursed power that attracts the followers of darkness. Although I am a human being, there is no doubt that I am a creature that causes harm to people…"

(sadly "followers of darkness" is not quite a reference to the tracks in CoD, the word is different)

The words are rearranged, but they are more or less the same. There are however some significantly different nuances.

One, "evil"/"demon". As far as I know, 魔 means exclusively "devil/demon/evil spirit", so I went with that. This changes the meaning of the verb 帯びる from "being tinged with, being imbued with" to "being entrusted with" (although it is canon that Hector was imbued with evil energy, so both interpretations are technically correct).

Two, the ambiguity of the subject in the last line changes the meaning. In the official translation, 存在 was assumed to mean the devils, and so they are the ones who inflict harm on humanity. But personally, considering the previous "although I am a human"... I think Hector is calling himself a creature that causes harm. Remember: he's really struggling to see himself as a human being :)

A bit of a funny detail: 悪魔精錬士 (akuma seirenshi, Devil Forgemaster) is spelled here as 悪魔精錬師. It's read the same, but the last kanji actually means "master" as in master of a craft, while 士 most commonly means "warrior" and in a suffix it merely means "person with a license". I wonder why this change.

English: "Hector! You disgusting child!"

Japanese: “ヘクター！忌み子め！”

1:1, but TIL that 忌み子 is an actual word that means "unwanted child, shunned child". Which hits even harder :)

English: "He's cursed... poor kid. How horrifying..."

Japanese: “呪われた…不吉な子。恐ろしい…”

"He's cursed... a sinister child. Terrible..."

不吉 means "unlucky", but in the sense that he brings back luck: he's a bad omen.

English: "And you brought home another black cat?! [...] I never should have given birth to you!!"

Japanese: "また黒猫なんて拾ってきて…　[...] お前なんて産むんじゃなかった…！！"

1:1, but Hector's mother uses the expression なんて, which roughly means "something like" and expresses disdain. In case it didn't hurt enough :)

Hector's father is an alchemist, but by looking up the word, I learned that in Japan "alchemist" is also used to disparangingly describe people who want to make easy money, without morals or shame. And the story says that the man was so concerned about power and wealth that the other villagers hated Hector also because of his dad. Huh.

(@the-crow-binary proposed a headcanon that in the past the father swindled a witch to gain money, and she placed a curse on him, which is why Hector was born with his powers.)

English: "When my heart grows weak... the devil comes speaking to me."

Japanese: "心が弱まれば悪魔は語りかけてくる。"

"If my heart grows weak, the demons come speaking to me."

Surprisingly, the nuances of the English translation are vaguer than the original, stemming from how akuma is liberally translated between "demon" and "devil" and the confusion between singular and plural: it's unclear if Hector is talking about the Devil as in Satan, the demon who caused him the nightmare, or even the fairy. The latter is because the word 使い魔 ("familiar") was translated as "servant devil", further muddying the terminology. In Japanese, it's much clearer that Hector is referring to the demons who torment him.

Also this is more of a nitpick, but the ば form implies a more hypothetical condition than "when". It's not a common occurrence: it's Hector's fear.

English: "For someone reputed to be the greatest sorcerer of the dark arts, you look pretty pitiful. I've been wanting to see you, General Hector!"

Japanese: "最強の悪魔精錬師ともあろう者がずいぶん情けない姿じゃあないか。会いたかったぞ、ヘクター！"

"For someone of your standing, the strongest Devil Forgemaster, you look quite pathetic. I missed you, Hector!"

Someone should have given the translator the proper terminology used in the game because they clearly struggled :P

I never liked how in English Isaac sounds as if he never met Hector and he's finally getting the chance to do so, not helped by the mocking "General". The Japanese version goes to the polar opposite: 会いたかった literally means "I wanted to see/meet you", but it can also mean "I missed you", which IMO fits Isaac's way of speaking much more and implies a former closer relationship. i'm saying that he had such an obvious crush that there is no other way to read it

English: "Why? Why do you attach yourself so much to these people? [...] They turned their back on Lord Dracula, who has protected that land for so long. Traitors who bit the hand that fed them!!"

Japanese: "何故だ？何故お前はそんなにも「人」に固執… [...] 長らくあの地を守ってきたドラキュラ様に背き、奥方に手をかけて裏切り者ども！！"

"Why? Why are you so fixated on those humans? [...] They are traitors who went against Lord Dracula, who has protected that land for so long, and laid hands on his wife!"

The English translation has a slightly different nuance: it almost implies that Hector grew fond of certain people, which is not true... yet :P in Japanese, it's more clear that Isaac is just taunting Hector's mercy for humankind as a whole, judging by his emphasis.

Also, as it was already noted, he specifically mentions Lisa in his speech, who was mysteriously cut in the translation.

English: "Otherwise... you'll fall victim to my spear right now, Hector."

Japanese: "さもなくば、今ここで我が槍のサビになれ、ヘクター。"

"Otherwise, become the rust on my spear, Hector."

The English translation works well enough. I just think that expression is raw :P it's expressed even better in French.

English: "It can't be true... there's no way. There's no way Count Dracula could be defeated."

Japanese: “そうだ…　そんな、ドラキュラ様が敗れるはず…”

"That’s right… Lord Dracula must have been defeated…"

... either I'm misunderstanding something, or the translator took some liberties. Not that it doesn't work, actually it might be better... but I'm confused.

A minor note: when Hector is invested by the waves of the Curse, and he hears what appear to be demonic voices, they say "you killed it", as in his cursed power. In Japanese it has no object, it's just "お前が殺した". Killing a power isn't exactly natural, so I believe it's actually Dracula, shown in the vision, accusing Hector of killing him.

English: "Hector, damn you! You, I'll never forgive!"

Japanese: “ヘクター！貴様だけは許さん！”

The English translation always sounded off to me, but now I understand the intent. Isaac is specifically singling Hector out: he's saying that he is the only one (だけ) he won't forgive, even though he has realized that Trevor has killed Dracula. But without italics it's hard to convey this emphasis on "you", so I can't blame the translator too much.

(extremely minor note, but Isaac switches from omae to kisama the moment Hector makes his Peak and Raw speech. Which is to be expected, of course. The weird part is that he uses omae again when he rants "if you and I had been there, Belmont wouldn't have...!". An involuntary request for camaraderie?)

I just noticed that the official translation, when describing the aftermath of Trevor's victory on Dracula, calls him "the young lord of Belmont". In Japanese it's simply "若きベルモンド家の英雄", "the young hero of the Belmont family". accidental nfcv foreshadowing?

English: "You alone always kept yourself looking human!"

Japanese! "お前は昔から…　自分だけいつまでも人間のような顔をして！"

The English translation is very literal. I think I would translate this as "You always were the only one who kept yourself human!", even if literally it means "you alone always had a human-like face!" lmao

(also notice the omae again. It's as if Isaac can't be too derogatory on Hector when speaking in the past)

English: "You possessed more powerful sorcery than I! And you were able to get closer to Count Dracula over me!!"

Japanese: “俺より強い魔力を持ち、俺よりドラキュラ様の近くにいながら...!”

"Even though your magic is stronger than mine, and you were closer to Lord Dracula than me...!"

That "even though" (ながら) subtly changes the nuance. Isaac isn't just venting: he's confused as to why Hector, despite being Dracula's special boy, insisted on "looking human", or clinging onto his humanity.

As I pointed out here, chapter 4 is not called "redemption", but "atonement". The two words have slightly different nuances :)

When Rosaly tells Hector that the priest has spread the news that Trevor saved everyone, she speaks in a respectful way. She calls Trevor "Belmont-sama", calls him an exorcist, ("悪魔払い") and uses keigo when talking about his feats ("救って下さった"). It's cute and it shows how much Trevor is respected for his feats :)

English: "It might not be a bad idea to stay here for a while in this sunny place..."

Japanese: "ほんの少しだけこの日だまりに身を置くのも悪くはない。"

"It wouldn't be bad to stay under the sun for a little while..."

Kind of. 日だまり means "sunny spot". The translation works perfectly fine, and it paints Rosaly's house as a warm, happy home... but I think this is meant to be a callback to the first page of this scene, Hector standing under the shadow and Rosaly dragging him to the light. Hector is finally accepting to stand under the sunlight :)

[rudojudo]

Next Episode Trailer

So I figured instead of looking back at the last year, I’d get more out of thinking about my plans for the next one. So here’s everything in the works from me/Rudo Judo Games in 2023! I hate being so transparent about it, but I’d love it if this got shared around a bit for the people who’d be interested.

Giant of Light

This is the big one! My love letter to the modern incarnation of the Ultraman series. This is an adventure game about being someone who either turns into a giant superhero or has access to a portfolio of kaiju. You investigate trouble and when the time comes, the action shifts to a grid-based battle system for the super-sized action. It’s probably 90% written and I want to get some more art for the interior, then it’s out there.

The Hard Way

This one’s less an adoring homage and more a shitpost that came to life. The core concept is playing through an entry in the SAW series, with the intended vibe of the table being friends watching a trashy horror movie with snacks. I thought this one was done, but then I ran a session and realized that it needed refinement, so now I’m refining! Still coming soon, though.

Santa Carla at 4AM

Another joke that possessed me suddenly (shout out to Lil), this is a short, possibly even one-page RPG about being one of the Lost Boys before/outside the narrative of the movie itself. You play as a beautiful, immortal dirtbag looking to amuse themself and help eternity pass faster. Pull big stunts, feed on tourists, get in fights, and most importantly of all, have profound homoerotic tension.

Further Down the Pike

Not projects I’m going to probably get finished this year, but here are the ideas I’m most interested in working on when those three are done:

Free Lunch for Magic Users: in a magical post-apocalypse, players are con-men and odd-jobs using their extremely limited magical powers to make a living. Think Fallout, Cowboy Bebop, and Adventure Time, but starring people on the level of Arataka Reigen or Peter Venkman.

V/H/Essence: play as a movie monster in a world that hates you for existing. Less X-Men, more a thesis statement about being Queer in America. Comes from the fact that almost all the people I know who really, passionately love horror are gay and/or Trans.

Demon Castle Dracula: a team-based game inspired by the Castlevania series. Work together to map the castle, slay the coterie of monsters from world mythology living there, then take on the dark lord and break his curse on the land.

Sentai Squad (working title): each player gets their own team of brightly-colored heroes who work together to defeat monsters, but you’re also making sure that your team is the most beloved, the most famous, and the top seller of merchandise. Maybe being a hero can get a little cutthroat.

Journey to the Quest: an adventure game inspired by Shonen Jump comics like Dragon Ball (not Z) and early One Piece. Play as a heroic child on a quest for greatness, making the world better as you pass through it.

Things That Aren't Games

As though that wasn't plenty. But I do want to try to do more, since hanging all my hopes and dreams on a single hobby/subculture is asking for trouble. But I have three other big goals, things that will probably get priority over a fourth game.

A novel: I have an idea that I've been nurturing for a while and I think it's really coming together. I think I can manage a first draft of a short novel in one year, even working around the games and day job.

A short story submission: this one's a bit fuzzier, but I'd like to have some published fiction I can point to if I'm going to be shopping a novel around for publication, so it makes sense to have more work in print.

Podcasting: I want my games played. I want people to hear how they work and I would love to connect with the massive talents out there in the Actual Play space. So I want me and/or my games to make two appearances on shows this year.

SO! High bar. I know. I didn't get a quarter this much done in 2022. I know I won't do it all unless I really put myself into it, but if I can even come close, this will be my best creative year yet. I hope you can join me.

[askvarneyakadeath]

[OOC] Hiatus for a bit?

Hey everyone! Worry not, I've not forgotten about good ole Death here. I've just not been active on this account for a bit because well, frankly, I've just not got much motivation at the moment. I've been doing an overhaul on the art for Alucard and Dracula's blogs and that has consumed a lot of my time, alongside (enjoyable) commission work and (less enjoyable) university classes sucking the life out of me just like how Death would if given the chance. So I've been mostly focussing on my other blogs to get everything in order again! I'll try to pick Death back up soon once I've got some juice again, and I haven't forgotten about him. I just need a little break from this blog so I can focus on the other two for a minute. Who woulda thunk that juggling 3 blogs is kind of tough? Would've never seen it coming. :(

I'm hoping to draw some more expressions for Varney to bring him to life more, since I've been overhauling all my art lately anyway. I don't think I'll draw a new sprite for him yet because the old one is still satisfactory quality, but I do want to at least expand his expressions beyond 'smug' and 'mildly inconvenienced'. Varney deserves a little love, from me that is. Y'all are free to bully him still. <3 The ask box will remain open as well, so if you want to send in questions for when I got time for him again go for it! It'll be a nice boost to start things off with again when the time is nigh. :D

Looking forward to picking this boy back up when I'm able to again! Which, hopefully, should be soon enough. :)

Much love to you all, Adrian

[vickyvicarious]

I posted 7,588 times in 2022

That's 407 more posts than 2021!

589 posts created (8%)

6,999 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@rhymingteelookatme

@animate-mush

@kaiserin-erzsebet

@dancinginredshoes

@cattuladaily

I tagged 7,574 of my posts in 2022

#dracula daily - 2,620 posts

#ace attorney - 741 posts

#art - 666 posts

#fanart - 660 posts

#videos - 453 posts

#animals - 447 posts

#leverage - 349 posts

#jonathan harker - 255 posts

#misc - 236 posts

#pfft - 235 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#like. otherwise why cow tipping. translating it as 'i was a badun' or 'i got up to mischief' or whatever would theoretically work otherwise

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Seward: Euthanasia is a comforting word...

Van Helsing: And what is happening on the ship? Open your mouth wider while you answer please.

Seward and Van Helsing: *exchanging "subtle" glances of concern and having private conversations about Mina*

Jonathan: I am going to sharpen this knife now. I am going to very casually and calmly mention that my wife is sleeping very soundly and peacefully. I am being very deliberate in all my actions and keeping very alert at all times.

Seward: Thank goodness Jonathan doesn't know of our suspicions! It would break his nerve, the poor man.

Jonathan: That is so true. :) I am readying myself to kill Dracula only. :)

2,243 notes - Posted October 25, 2022

#4

Quincey Harker must grow up surrounded by so much love... He has a doting weird old grandfather who teaches him incorrect expressions from a dozen different languages. A doting weird uncle who records bedtime stories for him on wax cylinders using his phonograph, and does all the voices. A doting rich uncle who absolutely just buys him expensive toys and pays for trips and doesn't think a thing about it, but also spends lots of time with him, got him a puppy and goes on walks together with him and helped him name it.

And of course, two loving parents. Nerds, both of them, but also far more badass than he knows. Parents who have always been there for him and always will be, who support him and love him unconditionally.

Jonathan and Mina started out as orphans, but their son never will be. He has a large and loving and present family.

(And some who he will never meet, but knows the importance of and loves anyway. Aunt Lucy, the sweetest woman who ever lived and who he loves because she is why his uncles and parents all know one another, whose tomb he visits with his mother every year to lay fresh garlic flowers in front of the door. Uncle Quincey, his namesake who apparently saved his mom's life and had a gun that his father has promised will be his too once he's old enough, one he apparently used to shoot at bats with.)

2,452 notes - Posted November 7, 2022

#3

Lucy: *sleepwalks across town to her favorite graveyard bench*

Dracula, emerging from the grave beneath: I don't recall ordering delivery, but... Don't mind if I do!

2,607 notes - Posted August 11, 2022

#2

Another thing I really like is the steadily increasing erosion of Jonathan's PRIVACY.

When he first arrives at the castle, he talks with Dracula for a long time, but while the nocturnal schedule is weird, the conversation itself takes place in a socially acceptable setting. Plus, monopolizing his time in this way is to be expected in this situation. Dracula soon does come into his room unannounced when he's shaving, which is rude. But it's more on the level of walking into a houseguest's unlocked bedroom without knocking, not barging in on someone in the toilet or anything.

The locked doors restrict Jonathan's movements but aside from those locks he is allowed to walk around with only verbal warnings (which on the face initially sound somewhat reasonable). It's not until he breaks the rules by shoving open the stuck door and falling asleep outside his bedroom that there's any escalation. It's a big one in the moment: the attack of the ladies both reinforces the idea of danger lurking here/punishing him for disobeying, and positions the Count as something of a safety net against even worse dangers. There is also the first big breach of privacy, when Dracula carries the unconscious Jonathan to bed and changes him, then gaslights him about it all the next day.

Other breaches of privacy soon follow. He's told to write the pre-dated/scripted letters. And when he tries to send out an SOS, it's returned and burned in front of him, before he is locked in the room he's in for the rest of that day. When he gets back to his bedroom, he notices the next morning that all his papers, his ID, traveling clothes and bag, have been stolen. (Which is probably what Dracula was doing while Jonathan was locked in the drawing room. Probably why he was so cheerful upon returning.)

Jonathan's range of movement/safety has been reduced from the whole castle, to the halls and some rooms, to just HIS room, to his letters, to nothing at all but the journal he literally has stashed on his person at all times. And even then, the Count has changed his clothes while he was unconscious once before, and is able to climb through the windows/break the door open the way he broke the other one shut if the bedroom door were locked or barred. He's not just in danger — he has no refuge at all. Nowhere and nothing that feels out of the Count's reach, except his journal, which again is only if Dracula doesn't notice it. (Plus the intent was clearly that Jonathan would have nothing at all by this point, and his journal being safe is pure luck, so if it's discovered it would be treated as another betrayal/breaking of the rules.)

Not only can Jonathan not send a letter now even if he found a willing conspirator, but if he were to just flee despite the locks, he'd now have to contend with not only geographic isolation but also a lack of money/identification/travelling wear.

He's been pushed to almost a breaking point of just being completely reckless in search of freedom and safety... except Dracula is still acting like a friend. Jonathan is so entirely within his power, and every other time he's tried to rebel the consequences are swift and limiting. (Whereas, when he listens to the rules, days can go by without escalation.) There's not much further to go from here without openly acknowledging what's happening, and once he does that Dracula has no reason to hold back. It's the rock of "if I do nothing he'll just kill me eventually" and the hard place of "if I disobey again, what will he do this time?"

Again, great psychological horror.

2,954 notes - Posted May 31, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

really, a shame we never got a scene like this:

Nate, planning a con: "Eliot, you're going to take her out."

Eliot: [pauses] "Like..." [somewhat hesitant garroting gesture]

Nate: "Wh- no, like on a date."

4,204 notes - Posted February 9, 2022

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