#source: dracula flow

[fore-seer]

[rubyrose-isms]

Salem: opps wanted some intiative, blew up their entire quadrant

[felassan]

Brian J. Audette: "As promised, what follows is an unofficial behind the scenes/director’s commentary thread for the “Isle of the Gods” mission in Dragon Age: The Veilguard for Dragon Age Day. Some Veilguard spoilers will follow, so Beware." [source thread]

Rest of post is under a cut due to spoilers and length.

Brian J. Audette: "First off, who am I? I'm Brian Audette. I was the level designer on Isle of the Gods and the level design lead for the critical path (and other scattered missions) on Veilguard for the last 3.5 years or so. While some levels changed hands between people over time, Isle of the Gods was mine from the beginning. And speaking of the beginning, what a great place to start. Usually when a level designer starts work on a crit path mission, the main dialogue and narrative is already written. In this case the writer was Bioware veteran Sylvia Feketekuty whose fingerprints are all over the game, but who you can primarily thank for Emmrich. While this initial narrative work gives us a general idea of what the mission needs to be, the gameplay is only a suggestion at this point. As the level designer, the first thing I do is flesh out the gameplay implied by the narrative and then design the steps that will connect those moments. This is all done “on paper” in a concept doc. I’m a very visual thinker and while not a requirement of this process, I used a free online fantasy map making tool to mock up a sketch of what I thought the level could be in order to help me wrap my head around it."

"Once that’s reviewed and approved, the more physical work on level design begins: blockout. Essentially this is where the level designer uses simple geometry to craft a skeletal version of the level in order to test gameplay, pacing, flow, etc. In the case of Isle of the Gods, the initial blockout and the final version of the level look very different, but the major beats, how they connect, and even most of the pacing and timing is the same. The major difference is that originally the island was more condensed, with a moat-like river around a central rise, but when level art initially started working on it, they “unraveled” it into a crescent shape that ultimately proved much better both visually and for the gameplay."

"One thing that barely changed from blockout to the final level, was the very start of the mission, but especially this rocky arch. I added it early in blockout in order to sell the idea that we were landing on a rocky, secluded cove."

"The initial beach area changed several times during development. It started big, got smaller, and got bigger again for various reasons. At one point there was some light deep stalker combat here, but the pacing felt better without it in the end. Another thing that barely changed from the original blockout was the gods’ ritual site and how it’s seen in the distance. My initial inspiration for how this should look was the Castlevania games, where Dracula’s lair is always at the pinnacle of the castle and juts precariously out into the air."

"Unraveling the level to be more of a crescent allowed both for more views of the ritual site as we climb and an earlier view of the Antaam presence across the inner bay than what was originally intended. I think this helped better sell the bigger combat that follows the first small encounter. I cannot claim full credit for the mortars combat beat. At one point we had a group focused on interesting combat moments and this was their idea, that I ultimately refined as what’s in game now. I think it’s more fun than just fighting a bunch more enemies alone."

"As we approach the entrance to the gods’ stronghold from the beaches, we get this moment where we see explosions in the distance as evidence of the rest of the team's (those not with Rook) efforts to distract the Antaam. This was another view helped greatly by art’s unraveling of the level."

"If you head down to the beach just after seeing the explosions, you can find some goodies and one of our visual Easter eggs … an homage to Planet of the Apes. This was initially setup by the level artist Meggie Rock and I decided to place a chest right where one could get the best view of the statue"

"Incidentally, this makes me want to hear Gareth David-Lloyd deliver the “You maniacs! You blew it up! Damn you! Damn you all to hell” line from Planet of the Apes, but as Solas. The next bit of the level proceeds more or less as it was originally blocked out, though the area with the deep stalkers at the top of the first elevator was an addition that had to be made after level art decided to blow out the traversal in that area to a greater degree than I initially intended. The overlook where you fight some mercenary mages has one of my favorite notes. Sylvia and I wanted to press the idea that a larger Antaam presence here had been drawn away by the explosion at the camp below and It was my idea to have a note from a bored Antaam lookout, counting floating rocks."

"One thing that changed even before I was done with the blockout, was Elgar’nan’s speech as you make your way through the ruins and up to the second elevator. Originally we had wanted his face in the sky like Ghilan’nain at Weisshaupt, but decided to trade it for the Archdemon flyby we used instead. At the top of the zip line just before the Archdemon flyby is one of my favorite views: the gods’ ritual site silhouetted against the eclipse. The initial description of this shot was used almost like a mission statement for this level in the original concept."

"Here’s a fun bit of trivia for you: The second elevator in Isle of the Gods is the longest elevator ride in the game. Also … elevators used to be slower and I’m pretty sure this ride contributed to speeding them up everywhere. The fight while waiting for your companions to open the gate after the second elevator was always intended to be big. Originally I had designed an arena with lots of cover and elevation changes, but when we decided to use a couple Reavers for the fight, things got a lot flatter."

"This waterfall area after leaving the gatehouse was never in the original blockout, but it’s something the level’s original artist put in and that we liked so much, we tried to find use for it as a nice side path for loot and a note."

"My original blockout for the area after the gatehouse (now known as the Elven Ruins) was much different. The pacing and the beats were the same, but I envisioned it as taking place at the tops of ruined towers rising high above a caldera or pit below. Ultimately these blighted ruins work better imo. The presence of fade tears and the fact that we call them out several times in the level originally had a larger narrative purpose that we moved away from. Exploding fade tears didn���t actually exist in game until I created them for this mission and they were ultimately elsewhere to good effect. The blight destruction before entering the gods’ inner sanctum was a beat that went through several iterations early on. We knew we wanted to halt the player at a door like we did at the gatehouse, but didn’t want to use the same idea of fighting until the door opens again. At one point I had some over complicated ideas about using fade tears to blow up blight boils, but with level art’s help we settled on something less about combat and more about traversal."

"Now we’re getting close to the end. When you open the door to the gods’ inner sanctum, right before it fades into the cinematic, you can see your companions who have gone ahead, waiting for you in the room. Most will miss it, but I wanted that attention to detail. While the general structure of the final section of the level didn’t change much from the original blockout, the gameplay certainly did. Everything after that last elevator ride in cinematic was overhauled to create an experience that was much more about this looming confrontation with Ghilan’nain. “A master class in blight boils” was how we had originally approached the two sections before the boss fight here and I originally had some really cool and puzzle-like blight destruction utilizing boils that would regrow."

"Ultimately we removed that puzzle aspect however as we wanted a lot of combat and in play testing it, it just felt too busy. We could either have a big puzzle or a big combat, but both was too much, so we decided on combat as it was more in keeping with the pacing of the end of the mission. The fight against Ghilan’nain was a collaboration between myself and several other designers. We knew we didn’t want to attack her directly (that’s Lucanis’ job) and we knew we wanted to strip away your companions at least initially. Once again, we decided to use the blight. If you think this fight is chaotic now, imagine it with blight boils that regrow! Like the previous section, we decided to ditch this idea as it detracted from the rest of the fight. Incidentally, you can beat this fight without killing a single enemy. My best time is somewhere just under 2 minutes. And that brings us to the end of Isle of the Gods. I hope you enjoyed the mission and I hope you enjoyed this look behind the curtain. And remember "Whatever it takes!""

[source thread]

[pasdasin]

Wicked Game

wolverine x vampire!reader

an: set in a timeline where Logan and Alex Summers have beef since i envision this with the days of future past casting!

ch 1

warnings: mentions of blood, needles, generic doctor stuff, cussing i think, angsty lol

ur at the start -- next

~~~~~

The mansion was always having a frenzy. The rotating door of constant students, the random federal agents that never seem to fully go away, and the weird brotherhood that seemed to always succeed in attacking the school and yet never actually hurt anyone. In other words, this was the most fun you have ever had in centuries. The latest fun you ran into at the school was right now. Watching the students frantically try to finish the book report they were assigned by Storm. Listening to their banter and recollection of the book made you giggle at them. Scott Summers, the most vocal of the group, turned to look at you with a scowl on his face.

“Oh like you know anything about, uh, what are we reading?” He said turning back to his friends.

“Dracula?” You inquired, bringing the drink up to your lips.”I was there when it was written.” You smiled. “But don’t expect my help okay? I promised Storm that I wouldn’t say a word.” You walked out of room with a small smirk on your face, listening to their arguing fade.

Humming to yourself, you observed the students on your walk back to your office. As the school nurse, you knew a lot of the students on a first name basis. Many repeat visitors had graced your office with superficial wounds just so they would see you, and your favorite?

Mr. Logan Howlett, the Wolverine himself. Who was sitting on the bench in your office, awaiting your return. Your eyes locked onto his own, and your smile grew, exposing your fangs slightly.

“Well if it isn’t my most needy patient.”

“Guilty as charged,” he muttered standing to greet you. Pulling you into a hug, he squeezed you tight.

“Another day, another blood test?” You inquired, already knowing the answer. Your oldest friend nodded, removing his jacket so you could start to prep his arm for the extraction. Pulling over a stool, you sat as you wrapped the tourniquet over his bicep. “This might hurt”

“You say that everytime.” Logan responded, rolling his eyes and inhaling as the needle entered his skin. “You should train with us again” It was your turn to roll your eyes at him.

“Now you say that everytime,” he huffed at you using his words against him. “I am not who I was a hundred and what? Fifty years ago? I am a doctor, I help people… I am not a vampire.” You muttered the last bit, removing the needle from his arm and taping down gauze. Even though he didn’t need it, it helped him feel human.

You had met Logan around 1899, in the streets of London on the way to America. You both had caused some havoc and needed to escape the city until you had “died”. You both instantly bonded over your mutations and the fact that you both couldn’t die. You certainly had tried, burned at the stake, drowned, stabbed, shot in the head, even a stake to your heart. Your mutation had cursed to you continuously walk to the ends of the earth every time you needed a new identity, and somehow Logan was the same. If it weren’t for the adamantium poisoning his blood.

Holding the vial up to the light, you closed your eyes and focuses on the blood inside. Listening to the way it flowed and coagulated. Reopening your eyes, you stared at the vial until finally, you unscrewed the cap and took a sip. Closing it up, you placed it inside a centrifuge and wiped your mouth of any remains.

“Its so freaky when you do that.” Your rolled your eyes at him. “Especially when you drink it, why don’t you just take it from the source at that point”

“Firstly, I can taste the bourbon you had at lunch. Don’t you know addiction is bad for you? Secondly, I can tell that the serum has been working. I don’t taste the metal as much anymore. You should only need to get three more shots and finish one more round of antibiotics.” You informed him as he put on his jacket. “I love you Lo, but for the love of god please eat a vegetable, I can feel the fat you’ve been consuming.” He chuckled at your request and patted your head. Placing a small kiss on the top of your head, he left your office and shut the door behind him.

Sighing, you turned to start the centrifuge and rested your head on your hand. You hated how he did that. Joked with you and kissed you like you were his world. You knew you weren’t even close to being the owner of his heart. You had tried once, back before the great depression, but he wasn’t interested. He always had his eye on another.

You closed your eyes and let yourself drift away from your thoughts. Enjoying the silence you rarely got.

[erinwantstowrite]

might seem a bit out of nowhere

but i wanted to ask how you get started in writing. and i mean like how do you get into the ✨️flow✨️ of it after sitting down. 'cause i just tend to stare at my laptop

i struggle with getting into the flow a lot. which sounds crazy with how much i write, but it's true. usually when this happens, it's because i have a lot of inspiration, but no energy to complete anything. i have to make sure i start writing when i'm feeling good, after taking a break from my writing space. sometimes it's because im so exhausted from outside sources, which is more annoying than if i just needed a break from writing

but sometimes that writer's block hits HARD. sometimes i'm also staring at my document and not writing for hours on end. and when i do write, im in a constant state of "i don't like this" where i rewrite a chapter or just a singular scene over and over and over again. THIS is where i'd say i struggle the most with getting myself into the flow, and i can share what i do to guide myself out of it (here's a post i made a while back with other tips)

IMPORTANT: notice how i said GUIDE. you can not FORCE yourself into a flow. I repeat, you can not. it's impossible to force a flow, and if you try, you'll only make yourself hate writing. however. you can help yourself to get into a flow

-i take the time to go outside and/or get some exercise. i also mentioned that in the linked post but it's important so i talk about it a lot. i've recently decided to take up photography and birdwatching, and I got myself a hammock. as someone who's struggled with finding ways to enjoy being outside (I live in Louisiana and it's like i'm being slow cooked to death during the spring and summer), that's what gets me out there. i also make sure i hydrate and eat well because our bodies need fuel in order to create

-i read something new or i go back to something i haven't read in a while, and that (usually) helps TONS. i recently read some Sherlock adventures and I had a blast. right now I'm picking apart a "psychology" book (this author should be glad we will never meet, my annotations have not been kind), and i'm reading a book about fashion history. and my friends and I are going to start reading Dracula in our book club soon, which is exciting!! i have a lot of books on my to-read shelf and i annotate all of them. the annotations aren't necessary for this if you want to try but it's fun for me

(^ that being said, i'm gonna add on: sometimes i go reread fanfics that i like, and that's all well and good. there are very talented writers who only write fanfic!! but it's important to also read published works as well. if anyone wants a random recommendation for a book to try, hit me up. i'll give you a book that i have on my shelf or that i've been wanting to read for a while)

-i make a playlist or listen to a playlist to get in the mood before i try writing. specifically, i need something that i can imagine some scenarios to. i can't listen to music while i'm writing cause i'll get distracted, but doing so before helps me figure out the vibe im going for

-drawing. oftentimes i need a visual of what i'm trying to write. whether it's something like a character interaction or something like "i have no idea where everything/everyone is in this scene," it helps to have some paper nearby

-journaling!! i've talked about this a lot on here but i journal more than Ford in Gravity Falls. I'm not joking. I have a bookshelf dedicated to literal decades of writing and learning about writing. i have two notebooks for LoF, one for my DnD campaign, one for my personal records, etc. I have a new notebook ready for writing essays about the books i recently bought and am reading. my LoF notebooks are dedicated to messily writing up brainstorms or writing through scene ideas, i've written partial chapters in them by hand, etc etc. this helps me when im not in a writing mood to at least be doing SOMETHING. i rewrite my outline a LOT. also it helps me keep track of my timeline (i still fuck it up sometimes)

-actually forcing myself to sit down in front of the computer.

this sounds like the most obvious thing, but i'm talking i close out all my other tabs that i don't need for writing, i put my phone away across the room or in a different one entirely, i put on headphones and listen to only brown noise OR i get on a call with my friends to make myself not want to open Youtube or anything else. i'd rather sit there and stare at my computer than sit there and scroll on my phone or get distracted with something else and then be upset that i didn't write. even just staring at the document and working it out without writing a single word is better than that, because it means i was still working

in all honesty, you don't know you're in a flow until it Clicks. you could go do all of these and gain experience and knowledge for months on end and not write anything that whole time, and then one day you sit down and you knock out an entire chapter like nobody's business. it's just important to take care of yourself in the meantime and keeping your mind fresh

[loycos]

u thought i was just shitting on characters im not that into? time for the lesbians:

-caitlyn has figured out the source of shimmer. cool. how did she do it? how about you show us her investigating? instead of have her appear at random and tell us that she did all that off screen?

-im gonna see by act 3 if im wrong, but what was the point of the thing with maddie?? it came and went so quickly and served no purpose to caitlyn's character.

-vi was terrific for like 5 min im the beginning of episode 5. then all her emotional turmoil kind of disappeared after she hugged vander. in general she felt unexplored since the beginning of epispde 5, yet again her character had to make room for JINX'S emotional journey.

-speaking of which, caitlyn also got no emotional development this act. i wanted to feel her desperation and paranoia regarding ambessa much stronger so i can buy her flipping sides so quickly when she meets vi.

-why oh WHY is caitlyn doing close course combat??? shes a sniper?? an excellent one at that. her weakness is up close fighting, thats why she and vi work so well together. also the scenes of her fighting were not well choreographed and didnt have an impact like arcane fight scenes usually do. do not give this bitch a sword thats not the point of the character!

-caitvi reunion felt a bit unearned. like they broke it off so dramatically, i was expecting one to reach out to the other, preferably caitlyn cause she's the one who called for the breakup and didnt show any signs of acknowledging vi while they were apart. that being said, if its all i have left ill take the caitvi fanservice, i dont care.

-i think caitlyn capturing vi was supposed to be a red herring but it didnt work- it was obvious it was all a fluke. maybe if caitlyn was a bit more closed off when they reunited i wouldve bought it, and that would make the scene flow more naturally.

-my girls were not spared from the cheesy dialog and ooc treatment everyone else got this act. they felt like different characters at points it was so distracting.

the good things:

-the caitvi sex scene stock just went up.

-the intimate framing of some of their shots together was cute.

-dracula caitlyn was hot, if a bit ridiculous, but she wears a giant top hat in the source material so "ridiculous" feels in character for her.

-vi choking jinx, ye bitch be mad!

i really really really hope they pick this back up next act. my girls felt emotionally not present for this entire act. i want them back.

[voievod]

Hello and welcome back to another of my Voievod shenanigans! 🎉 As I have been researching period clothing and trying to craft an idea of Vlad’s wardrobe for possible references, I have decided to share some information and musings on what măria-sa could have worn back in his days. It may be a long read but hopefully an interesting one nonetheless! For that reason, let me humbly introduce you to...

Vlad’s clothing references HC

I have decided to label this little thingy as a “headcanon” because, despite trying to research things diligently, some things might not turn out to be accurate or are simply the result of my deductions. (Also tagging @tutanchanup who wished to see something on period-appropriate clothing! ❤️)

Image sources (from left to right): Count Orlok’s costume from Nosferatu (2024); Portrait of P. Potemkin (1682) by Godfrey Kneller; drawing of Vlad Dracula found on Pinterest.

Historical context

Because Wallachia was positioned between two powerful empires, the country served as a kind of cultural and political crossroads. At the same time, we cannot forget the importance of the influence of the Eastern Orthodox church. This intersection of influences was most likely reflected in the country’s clothing style, particularly among the nobility and ruling class. For that reason, Vlad’s wardrobe could have been shaped by four major traditions — Byzantine, Ottoman, Hungarian, and Western European — with each contributing distinct elements to the attire.

Despite the fall of Constantinople in 1453, Byzantine culture most likely remained a dominant influence in Wallachian court fashion, but particularly in ceremonial garments. The Eastern Roman Empire had long set the standard for luxury and symbolic clothing through the Orthodox faith, so Wallachian rulers most likely adopted the significance of prestige and symbolism. This would manifest in richly embroidered silk and brocade tunics (Wallachian princely garments often reflected these patterns, as seen on murals). Wallachian voivodes were also depicted in robes similar to Byzantine imperial cloaks and long, flowing robes with intricate embroidery. Some garments reserved for ceremonial occasions may have included the use of religious iconography.

By the mid-15th century in which Vlad lived, the Ottoman Empire was a dominant force in Eastern Europe, and its influence extended into Wallachia through trade, diplomacy, and warfare. Certain elements of Ottoman fashion had already begun to become integrated into noble wardrobes due to cultural exchange and practical considerations tied to trade. The Ottomans favoured long, buttoned kaftans with wide sleeves, often made of silk or brocade, which we can see in Wallachian noble fashion as well. Bursa was one of the major silk production centres supplying Eastern European elites, and Ottoman silk production was considered among the finest in the world, so the fabric was most likely imported into Wallachia. Ottomans wore fur-trimmed hats similar to those we can see worn by Wallachian boyars. Ottomans also used wide belts (silk sashes or leather girdles) to secure robes, which is often seen in period costumes from Eastern Europe.

Wallachia was deeply tied to the Kingdom of Hungary, both as its vassal state and political ally. Hungarian noble fashion most likely inspired Wallachia’s more practical, day-to-day and casual parts of fashion. Hungarians preferred hip-length tunics with a more tailored fit which were useful for horseback riding and combat, unlike the long Byzantine-style robes. Hungarian nobles also had a tendency to display their coats of arms on their cloaks, which is something Vlad could have adopted for himself.

Wallachia had limited direct exposure to Western European culture, but I still think some parts could have (or were) penetrated into Vlad’s wardrobe, especially from the sphere of warfare. What comes to mind is a doublet (a short, fitted, padded jacket often worn beneath armour) or a gambeson (a padded, fitted garment worn as a substitute for armour). This would be a very practical substitute for the long coats, especially during moments when he wanted to indulge in physical activity and did not want to feel restricted. Wallachian voivodes also wore German armour acquired from the Transylvanian Saxons.

Taking all of this into consideration, it is safe to presume that the ceremonial or more formal attire may have leaned more towards the Byzantine and Ottoman influence while the casual and battle clothing reflected Hungarian and Western practicality. At the same time, it is important to add that his wardrobe was certainly not just to make him look fashionable but served as a statement of power, cultural identity, and political allegiance. For that reason, each fabric, colour, and cut was chosen with purpose, balancing his preferences with symbolism and tradition.

I have also noticed similarities between the Balkan fashion and that of other Eastern European states (Muscovite Russia, Grand Duchy of Lithuania, Ruthenia, etc.) which would make sense given the shared geopolitical connections, trade networks, and cultural exchange with the Hungarians, Ottomans, and Tatars. All these regions blended Byzantine (because of the religious culture), steppe nomad (historical ties), and Central European (political ties) fashion elements that created a distinctive yet interconnected style.

Social and political influence on clothing

As a voivode of Wallachia, Vlad’s clothing had to reflect his dynastic claims, military authority, and political allegiances. In the context of the 15th century, rulers often used clothing to assert their right to rule — in the case of Wallachia who did not rely on the inheritance based on primogeniture, this was all the more important as he could not rely on asserting any “divine right” but had to prove his position based on his persona and accomplishments. For that reason, his clothing would have communicated legitimacy, local identity, or military strength.

Clothes are to this day a particular form of propaganda, so his choice of fabrics, colours, or cuts would have been strategic. Red and gold are commonly associated with Byzantine and Orthodox iconography, so he could have used it to emphasise his role as a protector of Christendom (more on the red colour later!). Military garments might have used dark or intimidating colours, such as black, deep red, or dark green, to inspire fear and respect. During more formal occasions, he would have most likely worn expensive fabrics, richly embroidered clothes, and fur-trimmed coats to display his status.

Wallachian rulers were also expected to show their political allegiance through their clothing, so he would have leaned more strongly towards Hungarian or Ottoman aspects and inspirations depending on what allegiance he needed to show. I personally believe he would not have to align his clothing in such a manner on a daily basis, it was more of a formal aspect of particular diplomatic meetings or journeys to these countries.

Sumptuary laws

Sumptuary laws represent a set of social laws that regulated what different social classes could wear to ensure that luxury remained the privilege of the ruling elite. We know of a few sumptuary laws related not only to Wallachian nobility but also to the voivode himself. The voivode would have been exempt from most sumptuary laws (meaning that Vlad could wear whatever he wished) but enforced these laws upon his court to maintain social hierarchy.

The first important sumptuary law is the restriction on red colour, which was reserved strictly for the voivode and represented his office. Only a voivode was allowed to wear clothing of red colour (you can actually see it well in the Romanian film Vlad Țepeș from 1979 in which Vlad’s character wears red exclusively and quite often) — it might be worth wondering if anyone from his family could wear red when given his permission, but I am leaning more towards the possibility that it was a very exclusive symbol of power within the state. Red also had its important significance within the chancellery as red ink was used exclusively for the voivode’s signature. In the context of medieval culture, red was also considered the colour of power, war, vitality, but most importantly, masculinity.

Another crucial sumptuary law was related to fur regulations. Furs were a major status symbol, particularly sable, ermine, or lynx, which were expensive and often reserved only for rulers and high-ranking boyars. Furs were in fact so important in Wallachian high society that the treasurer from the voivode’s council (sfatul domnesc) not only supervised the collection of the country’s revenues and the way they were spent but also guarded and supplied the royal court with expensive furs necessary for the voivode’s wardrobe and for the gifts he gave to his guests. (For example, Radu cel Frumos forbade merchants to export fox, marten, and lynx furs out of the country, and these had to be kept in the royal treasury.) The title of this position is called vistier which literally comes from the Latin vestis (coat).

Analysis of formal Wallachian attire

As you might have noticed in the header, I have picked more or less the same style of attire which I have compared with the murals we have from the period. This is what I think most closely resembles the usual style of formal attire the Wallachian nobility wore. From the most recent media, Nosferatu (2024) very closely and accurately captures the style, so if you need good and detailed references, I recommend looking at the costume. I also personally imagine Vlad as someone who likes to dress nicely and lavishly but still retains a kind of soldier-like moderation, so the final attire looks noble and powerful, fitting for a young and virile man, while not accidentally sliding into excess or gaudy displays of extravagance. In this Ask, I have already shown a few examples and listed the garments separately — I searched for the names of the garments on Dexonline.ro, so it should be more or less accurate (I apologise if not!).

The cut of the sleeves on giubea is particularly important to mention (especially because in my previous response to the Ask, I mentioned that the sleeves were of standard length which is actually… not true skdsjdksdks sorry about that) as you can notice the extremely long, elaborate sleeves. The excessive length of the sleeves was a clear indicator of wealth and status — extra fabric was expensive, and so the ability to afford such impractical features demonstrated the wearer’s affluence and high social rank. Also, a man of Vlad’s position would have his giubea completely fur-lined, so not only would such a piece be important in the colder months, it would also be a very cherished possession due to its value. The same type of cut was worn both by men and women.

The furs Vlad certainly wore were:

sable

ermine

lynx

fox

As a ruler, Vlad would have access to the finest imported textiles, particularly from the Ottoman Empire, Venice, or Hungary. Here is a list of particular fabrics, expensive and symbolising power and prestige:

silk (most likely silk from Bursa imported from the Ottoman Empire; it could be plain or patterned with intricate designs)

brocade (a richly woven fabric with gold or silver thread)

velvet (highly priced in the late medieval period, often imported from Italy)

samt (a type of silk velvet)

Here is a very typical garment that Vlad could wear beneath the giubea — a long tunică made of the red brocade and intricately embroidered with gold thread. The top part was buttoned (and held around the waist by a wide sash), and the slit allowed for more comfortable movement.

On the other hand, for practicality (for casual wear, but also in battle or travel), Vlad’s clothing would rely on durable yet high-quality materials such as:

wool (the most common fabric, used for cloaks, tunics, and hose — fine, tightly woven wool was very comfortable and warm; particularly important for Wallachian trade)

linen (used for undergarments and shirts, but also lightweight and breathable clothing for warmer months)

sheepskin (essential for Wallachia’s cold winters, often worn as cloaks or lining for casual coats)

leather (used for belts, boots, gloves, and sometimes used to reinforce doublets or armour padding)

As for the accessories, fur-lined caps were very important among Wallachian nobility, especially in colder months. A pair of nice leather boots was essential, not necessarily pointed (as was the style in Western Europe) but with round toe which is more practical for riding. Leather gloves would also be a staple part of the attire. I cannot come up with any essential parts of jewellery for Vlad except for the rings. Nonetheless, gemstones would certainly appear somewhere on the accessories, mainly rubies (symbolising blood, power, and warrior spirit), sapphires (wisdom, freedom, and divine favour), and emeralds (protection and foresight). The team from Corpus Draculianum discovered a ring that could have belonged to Vlad, and it is not really a jewelled ring of a ruler but definitely a ring of a warlord, which fits my idea of what kind of jewellery he could have worn — not all bejewelled but cleaner, more practical, symbols of power and prowess. From spring 1462 onward, he most likely wore a wedding band as well.

The symbolism of colours was also important. I have already mentioned red, but there are other colours that would form a staple part of his wardrobe. Rulers used to wear the colours of their coat of arms as well, so as a member of the Drăculești, Vlad would wear red, blue, and gold (the colours of his family’s coat of arms).

Gold and silver would be used in embroidery, trims, and accessories. He could also wear green to symbolise nobility, wisdom, and stability — the colour was less common but nonetheless seen in noble garments. Black would symbolise authority, mystery, and mourning — this would form a standard part of funeral attire, but it was also acceptable to wear dark shades of brown, green, or red. The crucial part was to avoid bright and lively colours in this case. White was used in undergarments or perhaps ceremonial wear, but never for wedding attire (medieval wedding attire was characteristic for its bright colours and rich adornment).

Feathers were an important adornment for hats and caps, and Vlad’s would likely have been chosen for their symbolism and connection to power. Based on historical context and regional influences, he could have worn:

falcon or hawk feathers (as a symbol of war and rulership, fitting for a warrior voivode and a man who probably used to indulge in falconry; falcons were also linked to Hungarian nobility)

raven or crow feathers (ravens are often tied to folklore as a symbol of wisdom and fate, black feathers would also look nice in ceremonial or battle attire as a subtle notion of intimidation; he could also wear it during diplomatic meetings with the Hungarian as a subtle nod to Matthias Corvinus)

heron feathers (in the Ottoman Empire, heron [sorguç] feathers were also worn by the sultans and elite warriors in military contexts; he could wear these during diplomatic or military interactions with the Ottomans)

eagle feathers (they would carry symbolic weight because the eagle was the heraldic symbol of Wallachia; they are stiff and dark, so they would not be used for adornment per se but more for the symbolic significance)

ostrich feathers (very expensive and popular in European and Ottoman courts for their symbolism of wealth and high status)

peacock feathers (probably a little extravagant for Vlad but nonetheless often seen in Byzantine and later Ottoman courtly fashion)

To conclude this, Vlad’s formal clothing was not simply a matter of personal taste or appreciation for luxury but was also a calculated manifestation of his authority, identity, and even the volatile political landscape he had to navigate. Each detail, fabric, and colour served as a reflection of Wallachia’s position not only as an independent country, but also as a place at the crossroads of empires. Above all, his clothing should be seen as a weapon of perception — it shaped not only how he was seen by his subjects, but also how he was perceived by both his allies and enemies. In a world where power was as much about external image as it was about action, his wardrobe had to serve as a reflection of his own individuality and representation of his nation, but also as an extension of his position.

[smallestapplin]

Be careful

Request : can I request a fic of Dracula where the reader gets injured and he thinks they are gone, but they aren’t and he takes care of them.

Cw : mentions of blood and injury, nothing severe or graphic, but a heads up! Mainly from Dracula view, so has a few of his worried thoughts of losing you. Fem reader is called wife.

(Also another repost from my now deleted side blog)

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You’ve never wandered too far from the castle, it’s why Dracula has never had to worry, you never venture too far, and always stay where one of his minions can aid you.

Which is why you not returning for dinner has him concerned, you didn’t mention going into town, or going out somewhere he was unaware of.

All you had mention was going on a walk, and that usually meant walking around the castle grounds.

So he does not wait another moment, anxiety already gripping his undead heart that something happened. He cannot lose you too.

The second he’s outside, the cold wind hits him, reminding him of how late in the night it is. You’ve never been out so late, at least not without him at your side.

His cloak flows behind him with the wind, black hair becoming a mess from it, but he does not care, only focusing on finding you.

In a moments notice, the night becomes still, giving the vampire an overwhelming feeling of loneliness.

Until his smells something all to familiar.

His heart drops at the smell of human blood, moving so quickly to the source it was like he was a blur to the rest of the world.

Amber eyes darting around, trying to find you. Though he freezes when he does.

You look so beautiful as you always have, but you’re not moving. You lay limp on the ground, facing the sky, you outfit a little messy from the dirt.

Dracula is instantly at your side, hands shaking as he tries to calm himself down. Gently lifting you up, making sure to take great care to not jostle you too much.

He sighs loudly, and of relief once he sees your breathing, he can hear you heart beating, it’s such a beautiful sound he was almost afraid he wouldn’t hear it anymore.

Holding your head to his chest to protect it, he realizes that’s where the blood is coming from.

He wastes no time, teleporting to castle and rushing off to your shared bedroom.

Once you’re safely on the covers he gets to work. Being mindful to be careful with you, he takes great care to clean the wound on the back of your head, making sure no a speck of blood or dirty was covering it.

He nearly collapses in relief once he sees the cut is not that big, can feeling your skull was not hurt in the process. After patching you up, and satisfied at how you seem to be in less pain, he calls for one of his minions.

“I require a glass of water, and a cold pack, now.” He nearly growls, watching the guard rush off to go get exactly that.

Once everything was set, he light a few candles, just to offer some dim light for you. No doubt your head will be sore once you awake.

If you awake.

He sits by your bedside, refusing to move and leave you, even when the supplies he asks from arrive, he merely sets them on the night stand.

And stays right next to you.

His ears twitching at the smallest change in your heart beat. He can hardly focus on reading his book, waiting for you to wake up, when all he can focus on is your breathing.

You can’t help but groan, your head feels like it’s throbbing, and everything hurts. Your slowly open your eyes, cringing at just how sore you feel.

You move your arm sluggishly, as it feels like it’s made of lead, to wipe the sleep from your eyes.

“Oh thank goodness you’re awake.”

You cringe at the deep, gravelly voice speaking to you, only to hear him coo softly at you. Blinking a few times, your eyes finally focus onto the worried face of your beloved.

“Hey…” your throat hurts, as you sound hoarse.

Dracula reaches over, grabbing the glass of water, before gently helping you sit up, while bring the glass to your lips.

“You gave me quite the scare, dear.”

He chuckles at your soft whine. You lay back covering your eyes with your arm, while he sets the glass back on the night stand.

“Do you remember what happened?”

You move your arm, looking up at him as he leans over you. His cold to the touch hands cup your face, letting you melt into the welcoming touch.

You close your eyes, trying to think.

“I was walking, and I remember I wanted to check out the flowers in the court yard, but then I slip or must’ve tripped over something…”

You press your face further into his hands, trying to sooth your headache. Dracula strokes your cheeks with his thumbs, cooing softly to ease and comfort you.

“Worry not, just rest here. I’ll take care of you, my love.”

He cannot express the weight lifted off his shoulders, he wouldn’t know what he would’ve done had he lost you, undead heart aching at just the mere thought.

You’re his beloved wife, his beloved, he adores you so much, if anything worse had happen…

He shakes those thoughts from his mind.

You’re safe.

You’re in his arms, on your bed, talking to him just fine.

You’re okay.

Your warmth is still in his hands. Your heart beat still ringing in his ears, reminding him you’re alive, you’re still here.

You let out a confused hum, feeling his hands move from your cheeks, to wrapping around you and hugging you to his chest.

You bring your arms up and hold onto his cloak, burying your face into his shirt. The vampire buries his face into your neck, breathing shakily.

He won’t tell you, but you know, you can feel how worried and panicked he was or has been.

He doesn’t want to worry you.

But you know.

You nuzzle against his chest, sighing contently.

It wouldn’t hurt to stay like this for a few more minutes.

[fore-seer]

[bestiarium]

On the origin of vampires: Petar Blagojević [Serbian folktales]

Vampires, and their many variations, are some of the most popular monsters in modern fiction. Though their powers and abilities vary between authors and traditions, they are almost always characterized by a powerful urge to drink the blood of the living.

Tracking down the origin of the vampire myth is pretty difficult, as many many variations of blood-sucking undead creatures have appeared throughout folktales, popular literature and mythologies from around the globe, and recounting their history would take way too much time for this article. But it’s safe to say that some particular vampires played a bigger role than others in shaping the modern idea of what exactly constitutes a ‘vampire’. No discussion about the origin of vampires would be complete without mentioning Bram Stoker’s ever popular novel Dracula, for instance: it pretty much defined the current popular image of a vampire. But vampires go back further than that:

In 1725, a Serbian village (most likely the current Kisiljevo) was supposedly haunted by a living corpse who drank the blood of innocent villagers. This was not the first appearance of a blood-drinking undead creature in folklore or fiction, but it was a pretty influential one, being one of the first cases of a ‘vampire’ to reach headlines and become famous.

Provisor Frombald, an official responsible for the Habsburg military frontier, wrote a report about the incident: 9 people had died from unclear causes in the span of only 2 days, meaning an investigation was in order. What’s more, the deceased had claimed before their deaths that they were all recently visited by a local man named Petar Blagojević, who had entered their homes at night and strangled them. Petar had passed away 3 months before the incident, so clearly this was impossible.

His widow claimed that Petar had recently visited her, still alive, to collect his shoes. The villagers, not needing further convincing, called for the grave to be dug up so that the corpse could be examined. What they found was a non-decomposed body, with hair and nails that had seemingly continued to grow after his death. Fresh blood (or so it was claimed) flowed from Petar’s mouth.

In a kind of ‘posthumous execution’, the body was impaled through the heart and then cremated.

The story was revisited in 1728 by Michael Ranft, who proposed that Petar had died from some infectious illness that was then contracted by several people who, for one reason or another, came into contact with the corpse. Or perhaps the disease was already present in the village and Petar was merely the first to succumb to it, and was then used as a scapegoat to put the blame on.

Sources: Bohn, T. M., 2019, The Vampire: Origins of a European Myth, Berghahn Books, p. 78-80, 304 pp. Charney, N. and Slapak, S., 2023, The Slavic Myths, Thames & Hudson, 240 pp. (image source: Dusan Pavlic)

[sparklytimebun]

It has been years and one day he awoke and now a month later he was knocking at the castle doors. Rumors were widespread that no Belmonts had come to aid. Disgraces, excommunicated. It tore Leon to shreds, but he would stop this. He had to. After centuries of peace, Wallachia had once again called for aid against a growing problem. Dracula. Word was already spreading that a long retired member of the Belmont clan, a powerful knight now old, had stepped forward to slay the vampire king. 

At the entrance gate, waiting patiently to see who dares knock on the evil's doors, was Dracula. Imposing, tall, his eyes narrowed. He was prepared, naturally, but one could never be too careful. Many Belmonts had fallen to him, some succeeded in felling him, others did not. This Belmont would be no different.  

Leon uses the end of his holy sword to knock on the door. His outfit consisting of a flowing white and red cape, black leather armor with silver metallic accents, and a white undershirt with billowing sleeves.The attire is highly detailed, featuring intricate belts and buckles around his waist and legs. He is imposing as he is beautiful. Extravagant and striking and so very handsome. 

His long, wavy blonde hair cascades over his face, partially covering one eye. Which now gazed at the castle’s gates. Then with a strong, clear voice: 

"Open up Mathias." 

Mathias... a familiar name indeed, yet one the Dark Lord didn't recognize in a long while. Hearing the knight speak was definitely not what Dracula expected. The familiar feelings were immediately squashed. 

The man chuckled softly, leaning against the wall. He called again, in a sarcastic and amused voice this time.

"And why would I open the door for you, pet?"

"Because if you don't I will take the door down myself.”

Dracula sighed, the massive doors opening with magic, revealing a vast castle. It was dark, but dim light sources were placed throughout the castle to illuminate it.

"A confident one you are."

"And a foolish man you still are," Leon says, cracking the vampire whip at him.

The vampire was clearly not expecting a whip, and he was too slow to react as the leather hit him as a sharp hiss left his lips. He flinched away, glaring at the knight with narrowed eyes.

"You'll pay for that."

"My name is Leon Belmont. It's been almost well over 400 years, but I am back and I am here to stop you. Once and for all." He unsheathes his sword as well. 

"Come at me, Mathias."

Mathias raised an eyebrow in surprise as he got a look at the blade. He remembered where he saw it now, back in their early days as youth. Leon Belmont really was here.

"I would never deny an old friend a rematch."

He pushed himself off the wall and slowly walked towards Leon, drawing out a silver dagger from his hip. Dracula was easily half a foot taller than the man.

Leon smirks, shifting into an attack stance. "A dagger...my dagger I gave you..." 

His heart swells. All this time...perhaps his old friend may yet be saved. Dracula raises an eyebrow, looking at the dagger. It was definitely the same dagger that Leon had given him all those years ago, and memories of that time flooded back into his mind.

His eyes flickered with a mix of surprise and confusion, but he quickly regained his composure. He grins wickedly, his fangs glinting in the dim light

"You really think a gift from the past can stop me now?"

"It's silver, so let's see how this works, but a dagger is no match." He tosses his sword. "Fight me with this instead." 

Dracula grabs the sword, spinning it in his hand to test its weight and balance. He smirks at Leon’s confidence. The dagger he held in his other hand was placed once more back into its sheath, attached to his thigh by a holster.

"Alright, Leon. Show me what you've got."

He raises the sword and takes a fighting stance, his eyes sparkling with excitement. Leon makes his move, his whip striking Dracula’s ankle. Dracula quickly pulls his leg back, dodging the attack. Laughing, he swings the sword downward, aiming for Leon’s side. Leon jumps to avoid the strike, but uses the whip to hook around the blade, pushing off the ground to swing himself around and punch Dracula in the face. The punch lands, sending Dracula stumbling back a few steps. His grin widens, adrenaline pumping.

"Not bad, Belmont. Not bad at all."

Dracula swings the sword again, this time aiming for Leon’s chest. Leon ducks, flicking his wrist to send the whip uncoiling before he rolls away. The whip wraps around Dracula’s leg, and Leon yanks it hard, making Dracula fall. The vampire grunts as he hits the ground. He quickly unravels himself and rolls to the side, avoiding Leon’s attempt to pin him down.

"You're getting smarter, Leon. I like it."

"I had an amazing tactician on the field with me," he says and then jumps onto him, grabbing the silver dagger from the sheath where it had been returned at Dracula’s hip to point at his throat. "I win."

Dracula raises his hands in mock surrender, a smirk on his face. He stares up at Leon, impressed by the man's skill and strength. He laughs.

"Seems so. I admit defeat."

Leon feels his chest warm at the laughter, his heart swelling. Dracula notices the look in Leon's eyes, and his own expression softens slightly. He can see the emotions that the man was trying to suppress. He slowly sat up, resting his hands on his lap.

"You haven't changed at all, Leon. You still look like the same knight I knew all those years ago." 

"You look older, but so handsome still," he sets his whip down and the dagger. He tenderly touches their skin. Cold. Like marble, but he could still see him. His friend. His companion. 

He cries. 

"Mathias..."

Dracula flinches slightly at the touch, but doesn't move away. He watches as Leon cries, his own eyes softening even more. A pang of guilt and sadness fills his heart as he looks at the man's tear-stained face.

"Don't cry, Leon. You look like a baby when you cry..." He gently places a hand on Leon's shoulder, his touch colder than his skin.

"Mat..." he shudders, drying his tears as he settles on his lap.

Dracula pulls Leon onto his lap, wrapping his arms around the man's waist. He lets out a deep sigh, holding him close.

"I missed you..." His voice is soft, his words genuine. It's been centuries since he last saw his friend, and seeing him now, hearing his voice, brought back a wave of memories that he thought he had forgotten.

"I'm sorry I didn't see how you were hurting then. That you would go as far as you did." 

Dracula shakes his head, holding Leon tighter. He buries his face in the man's hair, breathing in his scent.

"It wasn't your fault, Leon. You couldn't have known. I was the one who shut you out, I was the one who changed."

"Mathias, my dear sweet friend," he says, kissing their shoulder.

Dracula shivers as Leon kisses his shoulder, the touch sending a strange sensation through his body. He closes his eyes, enjoying the feeling. He hadn't been touched like this in centuries, let alone kissed.

"Leon..."

He whispers, burying his face deeper into Leon's hair. His grip on the man tightens, almost possessively. 

"Mathias...you must have hated me. My descendants and me stopping you. Over and over. You should hate me."

Dracula slowly pulls away, gently cupping Leon's face in his hands. He forces the man to look at him, his gaze intense.

"I don't hate you. I never hated you. The very thought is ridiculous. I could never hate you, Leon..." 

Dracula looks down at him, their faces inches apart. He can see the sadness in his eyes, and it pains him to see his friend like this. He gently caresses Leon’s cheek with his thumb.

"Stop crying, love. You look even more pathetic when you cry."

"No," he sniffles. "You let me cry and mourn for Elizabeta, for Lisa and you, and your son." He says kissing them heatedly. "Let me grieve with you."

Dracula is caught off guard by the kiss, his eyes widening in surprise. He freezes for a moment before slowly melting into it, his lips moving against Leon's with a mixture of passion and longing. He lets out a soft growl as Leon mentions his past, his grip on the man tightening even more. His body responds to the heat of the kiss, and he can feel the pain and grief bubbling up inside him once more.

"I know you did what you did out of hurt and I am sorry I rejected your offer, but I meant what I said that night. I would not let you repeat this and I have failed that with Lisa. My friend, I've watched you since my human death, always by your side.”

Dracula breaks the kiss, panting slightly as he rests his forehead against Leon's. He looks at the man with a mix of anger and desperation in his eyes.

"You did not fail. You did not reject my offer, you left me. I gave you a choice, Leon. I asked you to be with me, to rule by my side, but you refused. You left me and it was because of that that I lost my family. I was driven to madness, Leon. Madness and grief."

"I couldn't accept that you would go that far. To make a stone to steal souls, to use my wife, to get me to kill Walter so you could be all powerful. To accept the being who feeds on death as your consort-"  He  kissed him again."Yet I loved you even still. Even now. I cannot undo the hurt I caused you, my friend."

Dracula growls in frustration, but doesn't fight the kiss. Instead, he returns it, his fangs lightly nipping at Leon's bottom lip.

"It didn't have to be that way, Leon. You could have stayed. We could have found a way to make it work, we could have been together. But instead, you chose the path of blood and hatred, denying what we had, to hate me instead. To wish me death," He runs his fingers through Leon's hair, his voice dropping to a whisper. "And now I'm paying the price..."

"Forgive me, Mathias.." he  whispered softly.

Dracula's anger slowly melts away as he hears the soft whisper. He looks down at Leon, his expression softening once more. He lets out a deep sigh and loosens his grip on the man.

"Forgive you... how can I, when you have caused me so much pain? How can I forgive you for rejecting me, for leaving me to suffer alone?"

"I don't deserve it, I know..." He kisses him. "But God or some force has given me life again. To be here. Let me help you feel whole again."

Dracula's heart skips a beat at the kiss, his breath hitching in his throat. He pulls away, his eyes searching Leon's face for any sign of deception. He sees none, and it only makes him more conflicted.

"Help me feel whole? How can you do that? I've lost everything, Leon. My family, my humanity, my soul. There's nothing left to save."

"You haven't lost your humanity or your soul. And I'm still here. Your son, he is alive. Safe. He is protected. You have me. I'm here now. I'm here my God Mathias please...see me." He cried again.

Dracula's eyes widen at the mention of his son, and he stares at Leon in shock. He hadn't heard of his son in centuries, and to learn that he was alive and safe was a shock to his system. His heart ached at the thought of seeing his child again.

"You're telling the truth? You swear to me that Adrian is alive and well?"

"Yes. He is. Alive and well as he can be.' Leon says softly.

Dracula's body shakes as a mixture of relief and disbelief washes over him. He tightens his grip on Leon, his knuckles turning white as he processes the information. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself.

"He's alive... My son is alive..." He says in a shaky voice, his voice full of emotion. He rests his forehead against Leon's shoulder, tears welling up in his eyes.

"He is."

Dracula's eyes narrow slightly, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

"Why are you telling me this now? Why tell me that my son is alive after all this time?"

"Because you're finally listening and I have a body to talk to you. God be good, you are frustrating." He says with a huff.

Dracula raises an eyebrow at the comment, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

"I am frustrating, Leon, me? My dear,  I'm not the one who refused to stay by my side when I needed them most." He says, a touch of bitterness in his voice. He gently lifts Leon's chin, forcing him to look at him

"Mathias-"  He says softly,  cheeks tinted a soft pink as he is forced to look up.

Dracula's eyes soften as he looks down at Leon's blushing face. He smiles slightly, enjoying the sight of the usually strong man being so vulnerable.

"Yes, Leon?" He says, his voice a soft purr. He keeps his grip on Leon's chin, his thumb tracing circles on the man's skin.

"I...." he falls quiet, eyes fluttering shut. "That's nice." He says lamely, trying to convey he likes how Dracula has the control right now.

Dracula chuckles at the flustered response, finding it amusing how easily he can make Leon blush. He gently pushes the man back against the ground, his body hovering over Leon's.

"What was that? I didn't quite catch that." He teases, his eyes glinting with mischief.

"I said it...feels...nice.' he says embarrassed, blushing more. 

Dracula grins at the response, enjoying the effect he has on Leon. He leans down, his face inches from the man's.

"Oh? You like it when I have control, don't you? You like being at my mercy." He whispers, his voice low and sultry. The pain and hurt from earlier fading for the time being, a new emotion rising to take place: Desire. 

"Oh my God forgive me ..." he murmurs, praying before nodding. "I've always had control. Our men, they were my responsibility but when I saw you take control at times, it left me breathless."

Dracula's expression softens at the confession, his heart skipping a beat. He gently cups Leon's face in his hand once more, his thumb tracing the outline of the man's lips.

"You loved me... even then?" He asks quietly, a hint of disbelief in his voice. He searches Leon's eyes, trying to find any trace of deception.

"Even then. At first I wasn't sure, but I just knew..."

Dracula lets out a soft sigh, a mixture of emotions swirling within him. He leans down and presses a gentle kiss to Leon's forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment.

"You idiot... you should have told me sooner." He murmurs, his voice filled with a mix of affection and frustration. He pulls away slightly, looking down at Leon with a hint of longing in his eyes.

"Did you feel the same?" Leon asks shyly.

Dracula nods slowly, his expression turning wistful.

"Yes... I did. I loved you, Leon. I always have. But you were so damn stubborn, so insistent on fighting against me. I thought you would never feel the same."

"I'm so sorry," he says softly. "I was also from a place of hurt, too." A soft sigh. "But you were not you, Mathias. Not until now. So until I knew someone could bring you down or kill you and have you with me... I’d do it. I needed you to see the reason.”

Dracula's expression darkens at the mention of being brought down. He tenses slightly, a hint of defensiveness in his voice.

"You thought you could defeat me? You thought you could kill me if I lost control?"He asks, his grip on Leon's hip tightening slightly. 

"Yes because I wont let you kill all of humanity in a long ass suicide note, Mathias! I wasn't going to let you self-destruct."

Dracula's eyes flash with anger at the words, his jaw clenching tightly.

"Self destruct? Is that what you think I was doing? I was grieving, Leon. I lost my wife, my child, and my humanity all in one night. And you expected me to just... move on?" He leans down, his face mere inches from Leon's again. His voice is low and dangerous. 

"You have no idea what I've been through, Leon. You have no idea the pain I've endured."

"Mathias..."

Dracula growls softly, his eyes burning with anger and hurt. He presses his body against Leon's, pinning him to the ground.

"Don't 'Mathias' me. You have no right to judge me. You don't know the pain I've suffered, the things I've had to do to survive. You weren't there, Leon. You weren't there when I watched my wife die in my arms. You weren't there when I lost my humanity. You have no idea what I've become."

He sighs and looks up at him, with all the regret and love and sorrow and desire and Leon wants so badly to make it better. To take it away. 

Dracula sees the look in Leon's eyes and feels his anger slowly start to melt away. He can see the regret and the pain etched on the man's face, and it tugs at his heartstrings. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He gently runs his fingers through Leon's hair, his touch surprisingly gentle despite his anger.

"You look at me like that... and I just want to forgive you."

"I don't deserve it, or this second chance or you but God I want it all. I've watched you from death, unable to stop you. Watch people go to lengths to raise you, kill you. Bring you back over and over and I couldn't stop it because you just lost more and more of your humanity, of you..." 

He cries, sobbing. "And I know had I said yes, gone against Sarah's last act of humanity before she turned so I could defeat walter and avenge her...if I had gone with you knowing you lured that vampire to my wife..."

Dracula's expression softens further as Leon cries, his heart breaking at the sight of the man in tears. He pulls Leon closer, holding him tightly against his chest.

"You think you would have been able to stop me? You think you could have changed anything?" He asks gently, his voice a whisper. He runs his fingers through Leon's hair again, trying to soothe him.

"I was angry. I lost my wife. I cannot hold her, her anger and her vengeance is what powers this whip my descendants use. Her love for me saw me through. How could I have taken your hand knowing you did all this to get Walter's soul, to become the strongest? Mathias I was angry and I couldn't..."

But he clings.

"But I know why. You were grieving Elisabeta and then when you lost Lisa you did it again and I again couldn't stop you. Couldn't save you."

Dracula holds Leon tightly, feeling the man cling to him like a lifeline. He buries his face in Leon's hair, taking in the scent of the man he loves.

"You're right... you couldn't stop me. No one could. I was consumed by my grief, by my pain. I was a monster, Leon. A monster with no hope, no reason to live." He says softly, his voice heavy with emotion.

"Please forgive me, Mathias. God as my witness I love you so much, Mathias. You are so precious to me and I am so sorry...I..." he hiccups, unable to control his emotions.

Dracula pulls away slightly, his heart aching at the sight of Leon's tears. He cups the man's face in his hands, wiping away the tears with his thumbs.

"Leon, stop... stop apologizing. I forgive you.” He says gently, his eyes filled with a mix of love and sadness.

“Truly?”

Dracula nods, his expression soft and sincere.

"Truly. I love you, Leon. I always have, and I always will. No matter what you did or didn't do, I will always love you."

"Show me."

Dracula's eyes darken with desire as Leon asks him to show his love. He leans in, his lips brushing against Leon's ear as he speaks.

"As you wish." He whispers, before capturing Leon's lips in a searing kiss. 

The night that followed was one Leon couldn’t forget, wouldn’t forget because in that moment, in that span of hours between sunset and sunrise, they were no longer Lord of Darkness or a Belmont. They were two souls, two very, very old souls loving one another, devoting themselves to each other, because they knew they had no one else. They were relics to a time lost and God forgave him, but Leon swears if Dracula ever asked it of him, he wouldn’t be able to say no this time. 

“Thank you,” Leon whispers. 

“No, my friend, thank you. For…being here. With me. Loving…me.” Dracula whispers. 

“Always, Mathias. Now and always, for eternity. I am yours.” 

Dracula sobs for the first time in many years, holding the man he once called friend, called enemy, now lover in his arms. He knows this would be fleeting, and Leon would once more be taken, but he vows to hold tight, to not let go and perhaps, if he was strong enough, he would follow him into death as well. 

“Til death do us part?” He asks gently. 

Dracula smiles. 

“Til death and beyond. I will search for you, Leon, no matter what happens to our souls, “I will seek you out time and again. I swear it.” 

Leon chuckles, a watery sound and kisses them once more. 

“I know you will. I love you, Mathias.” 

“And I you.” 

Together, just maybe, they could do this. They could mend the hurts of the past, and move on. So they hoped. 

-Fin-

[hrefna-the-raven]

A forbidden kiss

Masterlist - Misc. masterlist - Horror masterlist

Bela Lugosi!Dracula x female reader

Words: 805

Warnings: none really, it's rather "cute" 😊

Summary: You were residing with Count Dracula for months now and one fateful night, he decided to give in to his growing feelings for you.

@groovyqueer I gonna tag you as you wanted more Lugosi stories 😉

Notes: this has the potential for a smutty part 2 . Should I do a smutty follow-up of this? 🤔😏

In the dimly lit castle, the crackling fire cast eerie shadows on the stone walls. Count Dracula sat beside you on the opulent couch, his penetrating gaze fixed upon your every move. Silence surrounded the room, broken only by the occasional gust of wind that whispered through the cracks.

As you took tentative sips from the rich red wine in your crystal goblet, you felt Dracula's intense gaze upon you. It sent shivers down your spine, but strangely, fear wasn't the emotion that coursed through your veins in this very moment. No, it was something entirely different - a mix of curiosity and a certain...excitement.

Dracula, too, found himself captivated by your presence. When you had first arrived at the castle months ago, his intention was clear - he sought a fresh and interesting source of sustenance. You had received the usual invitation to his castle, as countless others had before you for the very same reason. But from the instant you stepped through those towering doors, there was an inexplicable connection forming between the two of you, a feeling he had not experienced since his mortal days. The fool in him was almost tempted to call it love. He huffed at the thought, louder than he anticipated, as you now curiously turned your head to face him. The way your gaze clearly got lost in his icy blue eyes would have made his undead heart skip a beat, that were, if it would still be beating. He had long forgotten the taste of love, the touch of tenderness, but in your presence, those forgotten emotions stirred within him once again, like dormant embers reigniting into a blazing inferno. With each passing second, Dracula's restraint was tested. He yearned to feel the burning warmth of your skin lovingly pressed against his lips while tasting the sweetness of your life force as it flowed through your veins. Yet, he held back, knowing that once he tasted you, there would be no turning back. He was a creature of darkness after all, and you were too precious to simply feed upon, he had to give you more.

In that moment, as if you felt his silent longing, when your hand reached out to his face, halting mid movement as if the sudden courage to caress his cheek left you again, all the restraint the Count had possessed shattered like fragile glass. With a hunger that surpassed mere physical desire, he gripped your wrist and pulled you towards him, closing the distance between you, his lips brushing against yours in a feather-light caress. It was a kiss that held centuries of longing and unspoken truths, a kiss that transcended time itself. But as quickly as it began, it ended. Count Dracula pulled away, his eyes filled with equal parts longing and regret. He knew that allowing himself to fully indulge in this forbidden love could be his undoing and yet here, sitting beside you, he felt a sliver of hope that perhaps love could find him once more. He let go of your wrist, expecting you to retreat and rush out of the room but to his surprise, your hand moved up to finally caress his cheek.

His pale skin felt cold against your warm hand and you slowly trailed your fingers along his jawline, gliding up to the corner of his mouth and gently pressed his lip up, revealing one of his fangs. Your glance moved up, your eyes locking with his, the blue now completely superseded by a dark crimson. A mixture of emotions flickered across his face - desire, restraint and a hint of vulnerability. The Count's lips slightly parted and he let out a shaky breath, whispering your name with a voice that seemed to echo through the ages. The initial doubts and that tiny amount of cautious fear of his true nature quickly vanished as the love you harboured for the Count since you first got to know him took over. You leaned in and pressed your lips on his, your kiss dripping with much more need and passion than his earlier. The touch of his lips against yours sent shivers down your spine, and you felt a surge of power and excitement coursing through you as you felt the tip of his fangs gracing the soft flesh of your bottom lip. At this moment, everything seemed to fall into place. It felt right, and you felt like you belonged to him, right here and now. You felt as if you finally arrived at home.

As the final moments of the kiss melted awayand unwillingly you left him with a mix of desire and uncertainty. The passion was intoxicating, but with the underlying darkness that rooted deep within his undead nature, he questioned whether you were truly ready to embrace a love that came with such a price.

[funkyspacealien]

Rabbit of the Night He'll suck the orange out of your carrots (Sketches n' processes under the break! It's a REAAAAAL long one)

I've been meaning to draw a piece that actually includes a background instead of a character standing in the void. The issue that arises is that... I just didn't have any good ideas for backgrounds, lol. Partially the issue is that I tend to design the character first, which makes it challenging to draw stuff around them. Since around the time that I made this piece was October and the big holiday was Halloween, I figured I could do something within the theme. I've been meaning to draw my character, Nosferatu, again since they have always been one of my lowkey favorites of mine.

An older piece of the character, which you can see with the others here The character was quite macabre, which made it perfect for doing something slightly spooky. The cape also gave me a great idea for making something more visually striking, as well.

My first attempt. As you can see, I tried to do a thumbnail this time so I can have a better understanding of the amount of space I have to work with. I highly recommend that you do something similar if you struggle with doing backgrounds. Though, I think I ought to make it a bit more square, lol. I had to tweak some things to fit within the standard square shape since I drew everything at a wonky angle. I was inspired by Soul Eater and Majora's Mask when it comes to the background design, especially with the moon having a prominent appearance. I knew that was a consistent thing I wanted to keep throughout the iterations. The flowing cape was heavily inspired by Spawn and the artwork of Lelouch from Code Geass

I always found it to be such a striking iconography for the characters. Despite being an inanimate piece of clothing, it adds a lot to the design. Spawn was always an intimidating dude, but having that cape overwhelms the viewer and takes up so much screen space every time he wears it helps give him more of an otherworldliness. You may not truly understand who or what is he, but you may get the vibe that he's someone with great power and importance. It's befitting of someone who is viewed as the best spawn of the devil. I find it also interesting for a character like Lelouch. Now, I never watched the show he came from, only understood the basic premise from various sources throughout my life. Pardon if my read on the character is incorrect, but to me, he's quite the scrawny guy and perhaps lacks power of his own. Despite this, he runs a rebellion and goes under the alias of "Zero". He dresses up as Zero, including the cape. With it on, his form became much more imposing yet concealed. It gives him a sense of royalty, which you might attribute to the likes of Kings or Queens. Someone with power. Sorry for that brief character analysis tangent, lol. It's just something that I thought about when creating the character of Nosferatu. I find it interesting that something so simple as a cape can help give a feeling of power. It's something that I feel everyone subconsciously think of and not realize. Back on topic, the rest of the composition I wasn't super satisfied with. I sorta lean into the "Dracula" look the character had by having the castle in the background, but I think it came off as very flat. I also thought it made things visually unclear. A bunch of things off in their own corner instead of organic guiding the viewer's eyes. I scrapped the first idea and tried to go in another direction.

I had the idea of being underneath an overpass and having buildings being lit by the moon. I don't think it was too bad of an idea, but I had trouble refining it and making it more "full", if that makes sense? This had a weird sense of emptiness and dragged the composition down for me. Perhaps if I drew the character differently and played more with the perspective, it would've been better. I went back to my original idea and checked if I could improve some things on a base level.

Originally, I had the cape go off-screen but checking my original inspiration, like various art pieces of Spawn, I noticed that the cape "ends" tend to curve back into the frame. I decided to do something similar which I think helped give the piece a sense of "flow" to it. I found that it also gives a composition more layers of depth and fills in any "empty" spaces that I had worried about before. I tilted Nosf's head a bit so they weren't just standing there stiffly as well. Sometimes it's the little things that help improve the piece than having to redo it all over again.

Finally, I just decided to make the background more on the simple side. I think I had the issue of really wanting to prove myself that I could do backgrounds that I made it way more complicated than it needed to be. It gave me the chance to make the moon much bigger, which I always meant to be a striking aspect of the piece. When drawing, I decided to forgo the "ground" that the cliffs are on since I felt it cluttered up the piece with too many colors. Now, I just got to finish it!

I should be done, right? Well, not exactly. While I think it looks nice (I'm personally proud of my use of noise filters), it just still lacks the depth that I'm looking for. Something about it is too bright and clear. I went back and experimented some more until I found a solution that made me feel stupid not realizing it before, lol. So initially, I tried to use this photo editing program called "Picsart". I used to use it a lot when I was doing digital art since I like the added filters. I eventually stopped because it would ruin the image quality. I thought they fixed that issue, but it's still the same.

It's a bit subtle in this picture, but I like to use the "vintage" filter since I like the added shadows on the sides of the images. The problem is that the quality got ruined and I'm very stubborn about keeping it in the nicest resolution possible. I decided to see if I could replicate it in my own art program. What I discovered is that I can and the solution was very simple, lol. First I drew a square with a solid color on a new layer-

Then I used the "Gaussian Blur" Filter-

I turned down the opacity, set the blending to "burn" and overlaid it on the artwork, which gave the depth I was looking for!

I gave the head some slight shading too since the filter unintentionally gave it to their ears. Good call since I think that helped with the Halloween atmosphere I was intending.

[pretentious-art-love]

Album Reviews #24 - The Sky's Gone Out by Bauhaus

Bands like Bauhaus are the reason I feel that 'Hairspray Rock' is a much better term than 'Gothic Rock' for this genre. It sounds like music made by a bunch of guys wearing leather clothes and lots of hairspray. Bauhaus can be really playful and even goofy. The guitars are definitely their strong suit, producing weird noises and sounds that make the songs all the more exciting and interesting. At first, I even thought they were part of the No Wave scene.

This is not the kind of band I would associate with the absolute drama of Poe or Dracula, yeah no we aren't really about any of that mopey business here, this is more like a The Lost Boys kind of thing. 'Third Uncle,' 'In the Night,' and 'Watch That Grandad Go' are super groovy. While there are some spooky songs here and there, and a few sad ones like 'All I Ever Wanted Was Everything,' sadness is really more of a rarity in Bauhaus. These guys are more about the sass, and sometimes they spook. For example, with the first two parts of 'Three Shadows,' you get these eerie songs and think they are building up to something interesting, but then part three comes up so you say, "Oh, you were just trolling me, alright." That last song called Exquisite Corpse? Is not really a song about an exquisite corpse, but a literal exquisite corpse where a piece of art is assembled collectively from other people or sources, it is pretty fun when you let all the parts sink in.

That's why I feel that if anything, their spook is more of a funny one, like that B-Movie kind of spook, kinda like Slipknot with their flasher movie flair? Kinda? This kind of cheap spook vibe is further enhanced by how close to punk they get; they have that angst at times, but they can also be fun. 'Bela Lugosi's Dead' is a completely different beast that I want to talk about later.

I reorganised the songs on this album so they go from more goofy to more spooky because I like to change the flow in albums. Don't blame me.

7/10

[poet-to-none]

I'm as obsessed with Bram Stoker's Dracula as watching it last year, first time.

There's always a princess, gowns flowing white, her face. . .is a river (Mina)

I have crossed oceans of time to find you (Dracula)

gif source:

[beevean]

Dracula to a 7 year old Alucard:

"Look Adrian: this is the source of daddy's magical power, the metaphysical manifestation of humanity's collective evil, the literal source of all that is evil and twisted in the world! Its power flows within me....and in a way within you as well!"

"M-MOMMYYYYYYYY!"

"VLAD! What did I tell you about showing Adrian eldritch abominations!?"

"The boy has to learn sooner or later Lisa!"

Ah, the troubles of raising a hybrid born from darkness #relatable

Poor Drac is just trying his hardest at being Best Dad :<

(also, tbf to him, having the literal manifestation of death as his honorary uncle might have gotten Adrian used to the weird shit going on in the castle)