#and that's not fair to romanians

[countriesgame]

Please reblog for a bigger sample size!

If you have any fun fact about Transylvania, please tell us and I'll reblog it!

Be respectful in your comments. You can criticize a government without offending its people.

[engagemythrusters]

Absolute shitshow of an Olympics fr

[kcciny]

Dug a bit into nasu lore for some stuff and….

Why did nobody tell me about vlov before…

Look at him. Please.

[estbela]

Actually Nyo Romania probably was named Maria at one point like. It's the romanian girl name, like it's very common, along with a few others such as Ana.

[menlove]

achievement unlocked the people at the mexican market did not give me my total in english 💀

[mariastadnicka]

Voices of Freedom: Romania at the London Book Fair

Time & Location 13 Mar 2024, 19:30 – 21:00 Conway Library Hall, 25 Red Lion St, London WC1R 4RL, UK About the event We continue our journey into the world of literature prompted by Romania’s participation at the London Book Fair 2024 with an event dedicated to the literary world of Central and South-Eastern Europe. The event is organised in partnership with the Bulgarian Cultural Institute in…

[inspired-randomness]

Enjoyed some music from my childhood and some glühwein this evening.

P.S.: The song belongs to the Moldavian band O-Zone, the same band who sang the 'Dragostea din tei' aka 'Numa Numa' song :)

[lucianbarbu]

October Log

October caught me colouring this short comic I made at the end of AnthroArt's online applied anthropology Bootcamp. The drawing is a synthetisation of my research team's experience exploring invisible barriers that migrant mothers encounter in trying to grasp a new language and find a new, local mother-based community. The drawing will be present alongside AnthroArt's other artistic projects in an exhibition accompanying their Bucharest Conference at the beginning of November.

Finished colouring the series of waiting room drawings and turned it into a small zine that will be available at our After Hours Work Club stand during Sit+Read Book Fair later this month. I'm bringing my stuff there alongside Gavril, Meci and our newest member, Dariana.

Had the chance to reprint my MA project while preparing for the Fair. I can't express the contentment that xerox coloured paper gives me, especially for projects that need to be manually cut to shapes. I had some pretty unfulfilling experiences in the past while printing this little comic anthology, having printed them on white paper that leaves little white mucus whenever I tried to cut them. The thickness of the paper was also a huge issue for this project. Each comic is only six pages long so thick paper makes the book feel very awkward and hard to handle. The material composition of standard xerox paper fits much better and I can finally say that the project is reaching its final form, the only think that's missing now is an English translation for the Romanian text.

I also turned 40 of those transformers I keep studying into pocket sized publications. They were one of the hottest things among my creations at our S+R stand, which totally makes sense considering their sexy spicy roots. In the same way as my MA anthology, this project is slowly reaching its final form, hopefully being complete by the end of December and ready to hit our fair stands in 2024.

LuciAna (Ana Kun + me) strikes again with the vegan agenda, this time in linocut form. The prints are part of an ongoing project we have spreading messages of animal equality. I drew the image, Ana wrote the text (Împarte mâncare, nu teroatre - eng. Share food, not terror), after we printed some postcards with the digital image, Ana started to carve, I joined in printing and we ended up with A4 linon prints, while also dipping our toes into printing on clothes (some aprons, some chef shirts and some rags). They were available at Sit+Read and can still be purchased at our studio, Balamuc, but also online (DM us if you want one).

Another project that finally materialised in the S+R context were the Zine Maker/Lover/Breaker. The drawings were created and slowly

/////////////// S ////////////////////// O //////////////////////// L ///////////////////////////////////////

///////////////////////////// L ////////////////////// W ////////////////////////// Y ///////////////////////

vectorised by me, and printed by Livia at Gruni Ceramics (who turned 4 this year). They turned out amazing and were another fan favourite at our AHWC.

These weeks were more forgiving, soft and restful than September was, a much needed slowing of pace if you ask me. The Sit+Read fair came in such a rush, and it was such a wonderful experience, although quite tiring as well. Not too bad for my first fair experience. I'm beyond inspired by the organising team (especially Flo from Secret Garden Bookshop Timișoara). We've launched two new zines: No words, No words - Made in collaboration with the ever so lovely Meci (Melinda Ureczki-Lazar) and Make a Wish - the retrospective on the Balamuc residency that me and Gavril Pop were invited to earlier this year.

I'm reading all the publications I bought or received from swaps and I'm training on all fronts to undertake a commission for UPT Campus Creativ right after the fair ends.

[crescenthistory]

Ask: hi, could you write something about barty with the prompt c5. ("there will not be a day where i am not there for you") like he receives a letter from his dad and u can tell something is off ab him and comfort him ? thank youu

Words: 1.4k

Warnings/tags: gn!reader, implied mental health struggles on barty's front, barty isolating himself, hurt/comfort, romanian!barty, general fluff and unconditional love

Note: this request is super old, i'm terribly sorry lmao, but better late than never? barty deserves all the love<33

You had not seen Barty in 5 hours.

Considering that the boy usually seemed to be attached to you by some invisible 5 metres rope, you were growing increasingly concerned. Your poor cheeks were being gnawed off at record speed, and you knew he would chide you for “maiming his lover” later, but you had other priorities at the moment.

Between your last two lessons, he had slipped off down some hallway and never returned. You paid it little mind to begin with, Barty often ran off on spontaneous, perhaps reckless adventures. It was in the whole school’s best interest to just let him, saving all your questions for when he comes back, demanding stories of his grand escapades – because he always came back to your side quickly. 

When he didn’t show up for dinner, your worry thus began to settle despite your trying to fight it. Sometimes he did skip dinner for an array of different reasons, but he always notified you. Throughout the meal your thoughts wandered off, all yearning for him, but you knew how much he would scold you if he found out you skipped dinner for him.

You would hold it against him, if he was not the first person to admit he was being a hypocrite.

You clung onto hope that you would find him in his common room or his dorm afterwards. When you opened the door to his dorm only to be met with their shared snake, Nova, as the only living being in the room, you finally allowed yourself to give in and accept defeat.

Barty was missing and you were worried.

Behind you, the tell-tale sounds of Regulus’ dance-like steps alerted you to his incoming presence. “Reg,” you said, poking your head out to catch his attention. “Barty hasn’t told you where he’s off to?”

Regulus gave you a bit of an odd look as he passed you in the doorway. “Does he ever?”

You gave him a look that hopefully said yeah, that’s fair before you straightened up once more. “Will you tell me if you see him?”

“If I see him, he’ll be here.” Regulus was clearly not in one of his more chatty moods. This time you gave him a look you knew said play nice. He sighed. “I’ll let you know, yeah. I’ll ask Evan too, when he gets here.”

You gave him a rueful smile. “Thank you Reggie, this is why you’re my favourite.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbled as he laid down on his bed to read. You had enough wits about you to close the door before you left, not wanting a stinging curse to be thrown after you down the hallway and doubly not wanting Barty to get revenge on Regulus for doing so. He always found out somehow.

This was not Barty’s first time disappearing, nor did you suspect it would be his last. You usually had a list of reasons why he might run off and places to look for him if he did.

Had he been in a particularly jittery or theatrical mood, you would have been worse off, as he quite literally could be anywhere where he might cause the most damage and drama. Usually you would begin in Gryffindor or the Care for Magical Creatures classroom, but thankfully you did not have to resort to those measures.

Because Barty had been in a very distinctive restrained mood that only you and a select few of his friends ever seemed to be able to decipher. When you first met him, you thought that mood meant he was annoyed somehow – now you knew that when Barty was truly irritated, he grinned like a maniac. 

This almost stoicness meant only one thing; Barty was feeling vulnerable. Maybe even defeated.

Which quickly limited his hiding spots to places where he could grasp at some privacy without feeling trapped. Considering that the last time he tried to hide away in the prefect’s bathroom, he got caught by none other than James Potter, the poor sod, you narrowed your best bet down to the Astronomy Tower.

Led by a gut instinct and a mouthful of compassion, you scurried up the hundreds of steps needed, hoping to find him and not accidentally stumble in on some awkward attempt at a date between some fourth years.

When you tried to turn the handle to the Astronomy Tower’s door only to find it to be magically locked, you knew you were right in your judgement.

“Barty? Are you in there, love, it’s me?” you called through the door, aiming at making your voice as steady as possible. He hated being treated like he was fragile, at least before he was curled up in your arms.

The faint buzzing sound in your ears alerted you to the fact that he had thrown a muffliato over the room, meaning you wouldn’t hear him if he replied. He could still hear you, though, so you tried your luck further.

“It’s alright, B. I’m here.” You hoped to Merlin he could hear the love and reassurance dripping from your words.

The whirring sound was interrupted by a faint click as the lock was opened. Taking extra precautions, you looked behind you to ensure you would be alone and slipped in through the door, locking it behind you once more without looking.

Fresh air filled your lungs the second you stepped into the tower – one of the reasons why it was such a great place to escape to when feeling anxious or down or both. Your heart was similarly filled when you saw Barty sitting in a large windowsill with his knees pulled up to his chest, staring out with an empty gaze.

“Hi there, lovely,” you said rather cheerily, making your relaxed state penetrate the atmosphere of doom that followed Barty on these days.

You walked over and went to lift yourself up into the windowsill, only for Barty to break free of his trance for a moment to take your hand and elbow and help you navigate carefully until you were seated across from him, legs entangling with his own. He let out a breath. “Hi, Dragă.”

You smiled carefully at him, settling into your place and letting the cold from the window seep in through your clothes without a bother. You leaned forward so your body was bent in half to rest your chin on his propped up knees, giving you a perfectly clear vision of his face. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t want you to have to talk about it.”

Barty always did that when something was wrong – denying you of any responsibility or option to help, assuming it was below you to do so. After a few years attached at the hip, he had learned he could not make you “realise you should leave his arse”, but he would still aim to shield you from himself on these days.

Other days, he would do anything to make you not realise, desperate to claw you to himself. A boy that contained multitudes, each one equally lovable in your opinion, to which he called you horribly insane. 

“At least we’ve got that in common, babe.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” you reassured quietly, chin moving against his kneecaps. “I really do want to, though. Be there for you, I mean.”

His gaze met yours, softening at the authenticity and affection surely plastered all over your face. He brought a previously dead hand up from beside him to stroke his knuckles over your left cheek, moving them backwards into your hair. “You always are, aren’t you?”

You let your smile widen at him embracing your care. “There will not be a day where I am not here for you, B. Whether you want me to or not.”

His eyes flickered with a vulnerability only you ever saw. The next thing he said was so meek that you almost didn’t catch it, but flowers bloomed in your stomach when you did. “I want you to.”

You reached your own hand up to catch his in your hair and brought the inside of his wrist towards your mouth to press slow, gentle kisses to it. “I’m glad, lovely. Now spill.”

[somecunttookmyurl]

seriously there's one guy who sells turkish delight and that's it. it's just him. he wasn't even there.

ashleigh was wandering around desperately trying (and failing) to find vaguely turkish things to take photos of for advertising like truly why are we even doing this

help i can't stop laughing

put on a turkish market for some reason even though there are like no turkish traders nor a strong turkish population

piss off everyone there to do it

do it during comicon

tell regular traders they can't do comicon bc of the super special turkish market and get mad about it

do it at the end of september for some reason

the turkish people don't even turn up

[apoloadonisandnarcissus]

You know that moment in film when the heroes undercover the “bad guys” masterplan? Yes, that happens in “Nosferatu” (2024), too, when Von Franz discovers the Şolomonari book in Herr Knock’s office:

In this book there’s a word that was marked by its owner (Orlok), because it’s written in Dacian:

My fellow Latin-based mother languages folks will probably recognize this word: voluerunt. Which is the root for “volontario” (Italian); “volontaire” (French), “voluntario” (Spanish); “voluntário” (Portuguese); and “voluntariat” (Romanian). In English, “voluntary”, or “willing” as it was used in the film.

Which goes back to Orlok and Knock’s conversation: “The compact commands she must willingly re-pledge her vow. She cannot be stolen.”

What compact is this?

“And so the maiden fair did offer up her love unto the beast, and with him lay in close embrace until first cockcrow, her willing sacrifice thus broke the curse and freed them from the plague of Nosferatu.”

“Willing” = “Will” from the Old English “willan” or “wyllan”: to wish, desire, to choose. In the 16th century (the date of this particular book), this word meant “according to one’s wish”.

Orlok not only knew about all of this, but it’s what he wanted.

[sgiandubh]

To be fair there're GIFs in High Resolution created by samcaits-deactivated that are still circulating on blogs and you see C leaning at S for a first kiss and he quickly turns his head, she kisses him under the right ear, then she pats his shoulder. Another GIF shows her turning her back at S, then we see S leaning either into C's neck or towards Lauren Lyle to speak (he's hidden by another person on the front) and she is fanning herself. C turns at S, has one of her arm wrapped around his neck and kisses him again (but this one is blurred) or speaks close to his ear then JB notices and join the hug. Old story but you can't deny what's so clear on some GIFs that have been created on this side in High Resolution. I wonder how samcaits-deactivated had a so clear video of these actions and not blurred at all by the way.

Dear To Be Fair Anon,

I am not sure if you have absolutely no idea you are writing to the very blogger who brought the Taylor Swift concert thing on Tumblr or if you have a different agenda, here.

I explained how and why I did it not once, but twelve times, in twelve different posts, all labeled #TS Edinburgh 2024. But sure, help yourself to this, lady:

[Source, since you guys just love them: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/753055266772221953/mesdames-les-tumblrettes-tirez-les-premi%C3%A8res]

The rest, you could have easily gotten a grip of, with a simple Archive search. I have also invited people with a better knowledge of video editing to step in and they did - in this post: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/753092027980333056/the-only-exception

@sdreamersc82 then posted a better resolution clip of what we believe to have been a second smooch, based on the You Tube link of the concert recording I had freely offered to everyone - here is a link to my reblog: https://www.tumblr.com/sgiandubh/753106221901414400/this-is-the-second-kiss-partially-blocked-by-john?source=share

Ask her how she did it, not me.

I am deeply grateful to all those who collaborated and helped. However, I will call out one of the original sins of this fandom: immediately belittling, judging and criticizing anybody who dares or even tries to bring you some sort of evidence, after the initial cooing and swooning over it.

You are no exception, Anon. How cute to come six months after all this happened, trying to sell cucumbers to the truck farmer. Another Romanian proverb, just for you.

[nocturn-warrior]

I ALL THE THINGS I'VE SHOULD DONE• 🔅

Alucard x reader

Summary: You are pregnant with your first born with Alucard and he has been overprotective over you, but during one night he a jerk tries to assault you. Alucard and your friends kick his ass.

Warnings: angst, SA mentions, abortion mentions, violence, jealousy at Greta, pregnancy, crying (but ends up with fluff), my bad grammar and text similar to a 12 years old's writting fanfic (english is not my first language) and bad dialogues.

Note: month of the three milks is may in medieval calendar, puiuţ is a nickname romanian parents call their babies and it means baby chicken. Most of the titles of my fics are based on Kate Bush's songs or song quotes. This one is taken from This Woman's Work

You were so excited taking care of Sypha and Trevor's baby. With his mother's big blue eyes and his father's jet hair, he was the cutest thing in the world. Everyday, your heart beated faster to the thought of having a child of your own with Adrian; a little baby to light up your lives and bring joy to that enormous castle again, but it took months for you to start trying for it. There are too many children around, the village orphans would be jealous if we had a baby. You would squash off the idea to yourself with a silly excuse. Actually, you feared having a child would have a reverse effect. Alucard was still mentally fragile and you rememberer his breakdown nights, where he wouldn't close his eyes to sleep until the sunrise. But one day it happened, and when it happened you and Adrian couldn't contain the happiness, though your hearts were still full of doubts.

Immediatly you started to work on your unborn's room, asking the villagers carpenters to reform Adrian's childhood bedroom and redo the furniture just like the way he remebered, since it all was destroyed during that last fight. All except that little wolf plushie which you storaged in the wardrobe. Alucard was surprised when you, after the nursery was finally finished and you both were decorating it with paintings and toys Adrian crafted himself, came in with the plushie and placed it over the little crib. He could feel a tear forming into his eye in that very moment.

"H-how did you..."

He stuttered, holding the toy almost as if he was checking out to see if it was the original one. You chuckled and said:

"I kinda stole from you so many days before Trevor had his hero moment. It was too cute to stay all dusty and forgotten in a wooden box. What is his name, by the way?"

Alucard sniffles the toy for a while, it smells like childhood. Like comfort. Smells like a time that will never come back, but he is happy it will belong to his child now. For that, new memories will be builden up. He finally answers, sitting on the small bed with you and caressing the toy's fluffy head.

"Lupi"

The dhampir smiled as his eyes wandered across the bedroom: it was exactly like he remembered. With his drawing skills, it was easy to picture everything in paper and intruct the carpenters.

After two long years, the village was finally built. Settled in the Belmont ground, it was full of small but cozy houses, a small fair, and a graveyard to honor their lost members. They were grateful for everything, and for that they decided to make a big celebration, in the day of their protector saint, Sara Kali, who is also the protector of pregnant women, for the exhiled and despaired ones as well.

You, Alucard and your friends were invited to such a beautiful moment, since you four had a big role in providing that people comfort and protection during and post the nightcreatures attacks.

It was 24 in The Month Of the Three Milks and you were 5 months pregnant. At first, Alucard was a little hesitant about attending at the festival; besides he cherishes the comunity so much, he feared you made too much effort or that all of these sounds, scents and feelings would be overwhelming to you. In his core, he wanted to go of course, but your safety was more important.

"Are you sure, my darling? You need to rest, you and the baby. Greta and the others will understand if you don't attend"

He tenderly argues, placing a hand on your waist as you look for a proper dress to use in the occasion in your big wooden wardrobe.

"Adrian,"

You drop the pieces of clothes to cup his cheeks, his amber droopy eyes looking towards yours as you explain. How could you take that pouty face of his seriously in that moment? You contain a chuckle.

"I am fine. My sickness doesn't affect me anymore, and some fresh night are will be good for me. You worry too much"

Adrian looks down presses his hand over your growing bump, trying to feel the child. He's been obsessed with it, constantly asking you if his puiuţ, as he constantly reffers to your baby is awaken and active.

"They are quiet this afternoon, my love."

You answer, placing your hand over his colder one. He says nothing, thinking about the festival and if taking you was a good idea until he breaks the silence:

"Let's find you a dress to wear, i will do your hair"

Your eyes light up, filling his heart with joy. Alucard adores to see you smile and beam with happiness, specially now that your mood changes so frequent. Any wrong word can cause an endless angst in this sensitive head of yours. He doesn't complain, though. After all you did for him in those dark gloomy nights, is not just his duty but also his wish to take care of you.

The two of you mess around your clothes, trying to find anything that feels comfortable enought for you to wear all night long. You try this, try that, but all of your formal gowns feel tighter and constraining around your stomach. Trying the last one with no success, you leave a deep sigh and plop yourself on the bed, laying with your limbs spread:

"Alright. Forget it. I accepted my fate: we are not going to the festival."

Though you had a silly smile in your face, Adrian could tell you were very upset with the fact no dress could fit you propperly now, and standing up in silence while looking at your hopeless expression, he takes a hard decision. Entering or seeing his parents' personal objects was a challenge he has been avoiding for two years. That's why most of them were gifted to the people from Danesti. They shouldn't be in there storaging must and moths. He gave it all, except some.

"Actually, i think there are still some dresses that belonged to my mother when she was pregnant. My father kept her belongings, and i couldn't get rid of them yet"

The joyful expression returns to your face as Alucard gives the problem a solving, you quickly sit up again and smile excitedly at him. For a while, you wonder why he kept exactly his mother's pregnancy dresses. Was it because he already planned everything? He could have given them to Sypha years ago. But you don't question it, you just nod and stand up, holding his hands.

"Thank you, Adrian. But you don't have to do it, if it's too hard to see her things again."

He gently shushes you, raising your hand and placing a wet kiss over it and ressuring he would be alright. Adrian tells you to stay in your bedroom while he looks into an old wooden chest, containing some of his parents' remaining belongings.

Minutes after, he cames in with a beautiful red dress, larger in the stomach and breasts part. It's oppulent silk bounces as he moves smoothly, placing it over the bed.

"Here. Try it on. I might do some adjusts on it's sleeves or cleavage if you want me to. We still have time"

He smiles at you, and standing up, you grab it to try on as he said. You inspect it's fabric, the dress has a slight musty scent due to all of these years it spent untouched, but it's alright. You quickly slip off your undergarments and put the dress on. Alucard expectates for the final result, arms crossed and eyes wandering across you changing body. It looks so beautiful, like a goddess of fertility.

"It feels tight in the arms"

You raise up your limbs, proving your point. The long sleeves restrict your movements. Lisa had a more slender figure, you guess, so it would really feel tighter in some of your body parts. Alucard approaches you, adjusting some pieces of the fabric and turning you around to check out the clothing

"I can cut them for you, my dear"

The solution comes without hesitation and you are surprised. He would modify his mother's relics just because of you. The hesitation came from your part

"Do you really mean that? Love, this belonged to your mother"

He playfully scoffs and lifts up the silky hem of the gown, helping you to take it off so he could make the necessary adjusts

"If there was something my mother was not attached to, was material wealth. Plus, it's for the wife of her son i am doing that. Don't you worry, it's just a dress"

Adrian removes the dress from you completly and with the lines and needles, he starts to work on the sleeves as you sit on the bed, waiting for it to be finished.

One hour and a half later, your dress is finally adjusted and fits perfectly. Now, you two should take a shower, get perfumed and elegant for the event so important to your friends of the village.

Adrian does your hair as promised: he braids it and finishes with a ribbon matching the color of your dress. He ties your shoes and you help him folding the hem of his trousers. Now passing through the giantic doors of the castle, you two head to where the festival would be settled.

Arms interlocked and faces enlighted by the rising full moon light, you catch a sight of Sypha and Trevor sitting on a wooden bench, their son Simon is running around with the other kids.

"He is already running. Years ago this boy was just a..."

Words fail with excitement, seeing your nephew toddling and interacting with other children. Alucard completes the phrase, placing a hand on your bump.

"A little bean. Just like our baby. Soon, he or she will be joining them. Ooh, it seems like he is sticking a frog into his mouth!"

As Alucard finishes, you can see from a afar, Sypha rushing to stop the toddler of eating a frog. You giggle, already imagining the adaptations in the castle you and Adrian shall do to prevent your own kid to hurt themselves.

Trevor see you two approaching and, taking a large sip of his ale, he places the cup aside, facing you two.

"Hey, i thought you two wouldn't even come. Y/N, you have to try this ale. This shit is a drop from heavens!"

By his tone, you could tell your friend was already drunk. Alucard intervines with a calm, yet slightly sarcastic tone, cracking his whip:

"You are not trying to make my pregnant wife drink alcohol, are you, Belmont?"

"I forgot this detail"

He snorts, shrugging and turning his attention back to his beloved ale. Since Simon was born, Trevor and Sypha had made a promise he would never drink again, but today is a special occasion so they gave it a break. Talking about Sypha, she returns to the place, holding the willful Simon on her hip and smiling as she spots you and Alucard.

"I can't keep an eye off from this boy, it's like he is the exact copy of his father. I can't keep an eye off of him as well. Trevor, you are already drunk?"

She places her free arm on her hip, facing the sitting man who denies it, with his clearly intoxicated tone.

"Gods, i don't know why but i still love you that it hurts!"

She chuckles, sitting by her husband's side and releasing Simon from her arms before she finally talks to Alucard and you.

"Your bump is already so big, my dear Y/N! Bigger than last week. Please, cherish this moment, becsuse after that you will deal with back pains and ankle soreness due to this little human growing in there"

Sypha looks tenderly at your belly jutting against the red silk of your dress, and then at her own son who rushes to "uncle Lulu", as he calls your husband.

"But it's all worthy."

You were so excited by seeing your friends that didn't even paid attention to the festival decoration. It was beautiful, full of colors and good scents comming from the food. The women wore their traditional clothes, children ran around the big fire settled in the middle. The tawny moon enlighted everything, making the scenary even more breathtaking. Alucard conduces you to sit over the bench and accomodates himself by your side as well.

"What do you think, love?"

He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek

"Beautiful. I love how their people, even after so many troubles and distress, found a way to put everything together"

The food scent was inviting, you spot a plump old lady holding a large plate of something you judged to be sarma, placing it over the large table along with other food. An increasing desire starts to take over you, and Alucard notices your fixated gaze. He chuckles, placing a hand on your belly before standing up.

"Are you two hungry? Stay here, i will get some food. Will you guys want something as well?"

He looks at Sypha who shakes her head, and at Trevor who says nothing but a grunt that Alucard reads as a no. You watch your dhampir walk graciously towards the table abundant with food, greeting the people as he approaches it. Resting your elbow on your knee and your chin on your palm, you don’t notice how head over heels you are until he comes back holding a bowl and speaking to you so sweetly:

“Here, my dear. It’s still warm”

Alucard sits by your side and you glance at the bowl full of sarma; a meal made of cabbages and stuffed with meat and rice, a typical dish of the people from Danesti. He grabs a forkful and takes it towards your mouth, waiting for your approval. You chew up the bite, the flavors exploding in your mouth. Alucard’s smile increases when you leave a satisfied groan and nod your head. He places the bowl on your lap, allowing you to occasionally feed him as you two chat with Sypha.

Some children from the village spot you sitting in there and rush towards the bench. As expected, they were quite excited about the baby on the way, always competing between them to touch your bump and feel their new “sibling”. After all those little ones passed through, you were happy to see them play around. You see in their faces, the future of that community like flowers blooming after a long winter.

“mother, mother!”

A little girl grabs the hem of your silky dress, trying to get you attention and climb up to your lap, followed by other three kids who fight for their places. Noticing the mess they could make, Alucard grabs the bowl you hold and tries to calm down the hectic little ones.

“Woah, woah, calm down, Delia, Elek. Let your mother breath.”

He adverts the two sassiest ones with his firm wet warm tone, gently pulling them away as they chitter.

“But father Alucard, I want to feel the baby!”

They argue and you can’t resist to their pouty faces, sensitized by your mood changes you intervene into Alucard’s rebuke, accepting their little excited hands to touch your bump. Your husband doesn’t protest back, he knows how stubborn you are and how these children love you, but as you allow Delia to climb up onto your lap, he can’t help but feel apprehensive the girl would make too much pressure over your belly. You can see the disappointed expression in her face as she roams her palm around your stomach but isn’t able to feel nothing.

“The baby is sleeping now.”

You whisper, tilting up her little chin and smiling pacifically. Alucard admires your ability to calm down these children, always so patient and warm. Delia seems to understand the situation and climbs down from your lap, turning to her little friends and communicating the state of your baby. Still, the kids wouldn’t give up and keep fighting for your attention. Alucard knows that gently pushing them away wouldn’t do much good and gives up, so he lets it be. Sypha, noticing your discomfort calls one the children’s name and says:

“why don’t you take little Simon to play around a little, Delia? Hey, but don’t allow him to eat any frog!”

She adverts as the little girl gives up on pesting you and quickly takes your nephew’s hand, guiding him off from Sypha’s lap.

“nor any cricket or moth!”

“Alright, aunt Sypha!”

The small group of children leaves the four adults alone, in a mass of giggling and screaming mess. You can breathe finally, laying your head over Alucard’s shoulder and watching them move away, secretly hoping your baby takes after you and your husband, and doesn’t come to be so hectic like their future peers. Chatting with your friends about your adventures and about parenthood, most of the conversations end up with mocking Trevor. You guys are really taking advantage of his intoxicated state to make fun of him. The weather is pleasant and the crackling fire sounds relax you.

You hate it, but a snort leaves your throat when one of the children approach again, rushing towards Alucard this time at least. The little boy has in his face the expression of the messenger of a king, and speaks while panting, leaving Alucard slightly worried. You fear something bad has happened, as well.

“father Alucard, Greta wants to talk to you.”

The request was not urgent or a life or death case, but the woman’s name has sent you some discomfort into your heart. It’s not like you hate Greta: she is not as close as Sypha is to you, but she is still a friend and you recognize the importance she has to the community, yet you can’t help but feel insecure whenever she is around. Even though it’s been two years since you and Adrian are together, even though you are pregnant with his child.

The blonde man places a quick kiss on your cheek, swearing he will come back as soon as possible and stands up, guided by the child towards the house Greta awaits for him. You observe him adjusting the collar of his shirt as he approaches, and you see Greta come out through the door. Even from meters afar, you notice and admit how gorgeous she looks in that traditional dress, her dark hair and bronze skin glowing under the moonlight, and the wind seems to bring her perfume to you. Almost if it was teasing your jealousness and provoking your feelings.

The leader greets Alucard with a tight hug and in this moment your heart slightly sinks. Ruminating about their possible conversation topic, you convince yourself she is just thanking him for the support he offered during these two years, and not complimenting his beautiful amber eyes or his soft blonde locks you combed yourself. She drags him to inside the small house, followed by other two villagers.

Your fists close, you start to bounce your leg in anxiety and Sypha who is much an observer, places her hand gently on yours and leans in, looking at you with tenderness:

“Y/N, calm down. He is going to talk to the elder ones. You have nothing to worry about. Greta isn’t stealing your man.”

She speaks in a laid-back tone, softly caressing your hand. You turn to face your friend but you can’t contain the concerned expression. Sypha chuckles a bit, not mocking at you, but finding your feeling extremely valid. You protest:

“I-I am not jealous, Sypha. I just---“

You can’t find better words to describe your feeling, so you just give in to Sypha’s moral lesson.

“You are jealous, Y/N. I can tell it by the pout in your face. But you know what? That’s completely understandable, dear friend. You are going through a lot of changes all over your body, it’s pretty normal.”

She leans in a little more and whispers in tone of secret:

“when I was pregnant, i argued with Trevor about anything. Even ale itself made me feel jealous of him”

Your friend takes your hand once again and continues:

“what you need to know, is that Alucard loves you no matter what. It wasn’t Greta who held him every night when his nightmares tormented him. It wasn’t Greta who took care of him at his lowest, my dear. Adrian loves you and he doesn't hide it"

You know Sypha meant every word, but why did you feel like Alucard would eventually get tired of you? Why did you think Greta would charm him with her strong sense of leadership and athletic phisique? You try to focus on something else ignoring the burning jealousy increasing and consuming your brain and on Sypha's trying to cheer you up.

You finally see Alucard step out from the cabin he entered with the leader of the village, his beautiful face beams with happiness as he chats something unhearable. Greta pulls him closer to where other young women beautifully dressed in those tradicional patterns organize themselves to start the dancing, he is probably greeting them.

The young men start playing the instruments, and the ladies dance in the rhythm. Seeing your husband idly moving his shoulders, you expect for the worst to happen. Greta takes him by his hand and starts teaching him how to move smoothly like the dancers, twirling around and expecting him to do the same. Adrian doesn't give a single glance at where you are sitting, he seems to be hypnotized by the moment.

You stand up and feel Sypha's tight grip on your wrist. You look down at her as she asks softly:

"Where are you going"

"I need to pee"

You force a smile and even if it was your intention, Sypha knew you were distancing for other motive. But she doesn't intervene, though. She just releases your wrist and focus on Trevor who seems to be in an alcoholic catalepsy by her side.

You walk towards the latrine behind the village, holding up the hem of dress so it wouldn't get stuck in the ivies underneath. Leaning against the wooden thin wall of the cabine, you feel an increasing heat take over your face and thick tears drop down from your eyes. The music of the festival sounds distant, but you can hear the people's laughing and cheering.

The crickets and night birds seem to be the only spectators of your breakdown until you hear a hoarse, unfamiliar voice approaching you.

"Why are you crying, beautiful lady?"

You pull up your head from the wall, turning to where the voice comes. The light of a torch reveals the silhouette of a man who limps towards you, speaking in an alcohol intoxicated voice.

"A beautiful lady like you shouldn't be here, all alone. Did you know the nightcreatures are still around?"

He laughs in a mischevious tone, spitting on the ground. Getting closer and closer, he sees your face and his eyes widen up, a smirk forms again in his face:

"Are you the dhampir's wife?"

You've never seen that man at the village, he has been here due to the festival, you guess. You gulp, shortly nodding your head:

"Y-yes, mister."

The man stays in silence for a while, his eyes roaming through your body like he he was chosing a piece of meat until they linger on your belly.

"You are pregnant! You are carrying that evil's seed! Your husband's race only brought disgrace to this land. This thing you carry in your womb is cursed, it has a cursed blood just like it's genitor. You are nothing but catter for that demon to spread his offspring"

Your heart sinks at the tone he speaks to you, his intoxicated breath stinging in your nose as he approaches. You can't move, your body freezes as he says:

"I will put an end on it"

He completes with a sly grin, spitting on the ground again:

"And insert mine inside this pretty belly of yours"

You try to run, but the man grabs you by your middle and starts to run his filthy hands across your cleavage. Where is Alucard? You stood with him during this thundery years and when you need him most, he is entertaining himself with Greta. You fear for your child as the man's fingers press deeper against your skin.

"If you screm, it's gonna be worse. They can't hear you"

The man whispers and all you can do is whimper.

All the while, Sypha watches the movement of people, the colors of the dancers' dresses twirling and the instruments sounds echoing to inside the forest. It's been 5 minutes and you didn't came back. She fears leaving you alone was a bad idea.

Her attention turns to Alucard who after chatting with the villagers and receiving their grateful compliments, happily heads to the bench eager to reunite with you. His face drastically changes noticing only Sypha (and a dozing off Trevor) are in there.

"Where is Y/N?"

He asks the woman, a concerned expression in his face, and he could see a slight frown or worry in Sypha's forehead, but she didn't want to alarm him by mentioning her concern.

"She went to the latrines minutes ago"

For a while, Alucard feels a little upset with your friend. She shouldn't have let you go on your own. He stays in silence for a while, deciding if he should go after you.

Your vision gets foggy by the tears, and you can't tell if the music stopped or you are just falling out of consciousness by the terror, but as the sounds of instruments finally fade completly, you scream in agony, hoping someone can hear you plead. Hoping Alucard could hear your plead.

Alucard's pupils shrink as he hears your recognizable voice and before Sypha could even ask him if he heard that too, he desappears in a figure darker than night, smoothly directing itself to where the sound of you came from. Sypha rushes after him, already closing her fists, ready to use her powers.

The drunken man slides his hand down to your womb, roughly pressing his thumbs onto your skin. You groan, tears falling down your cheeks. He is going to take the life of your so expected puiuţ.

The trees and people speed distorted as Alucard in his fog shape rushes in your rescue. His heart is filled with an unnatural rage, something he never felt before as he sees that filthy bastard hurting his beloved. Something similar to what his father might felt.

The dhampir materializes in front of the man, pushing him with anger against the stone wall of a house, the bastard couldn't even tell what was going on until he feels Alucard's piercering eyes, red as flames staring into his and his sharp fangs so close to his neck as he hisses like a serpent.

He was about to take his life when a sharp disc of ice cuts the bastard's skin. Alucard swiftly looks back and sees Sypha rushing towards you as you fall on your knees, sobbing. His attention then turns back to the man who feels the dhampir's fangs almost touching his throat.

"I am not marking this date so important for the villagers with your filthy blood. But get to know: if you touch my wife once again, i open your abdomen and wrap your guts around a tree with you alive."

This words doesn't seem to be spoken by your sweet Alucard. For a while, it feels like his father's anger for human kind took his mind and manifested phisically using his body.

He releases the drunk who limps florest inside and his eyes shift back to it's beautiful amber pigmentation, now filled with tears as he sees you broken on the ground attached to Sypha's shoulder, sobbing in shock.

"Shh... it's everything alright now, Y/N. He is gone"

Your friend rubs your back soothingly and helps you to stand up, but your arm never leaves hers until Alucard approaches, stretching his arms open to embrace you.

"Y/N! I am so sorry. I've failed you"

"H-he tried to kill our puiuţ..."

You whine and he rests his chin on top of your head, holding you tighter. He couldn't save his mother years ago, he couldn't save his father from his own madness. If he lost you to such an avoidable way, he couldn't forgive himself.

Sypha's heart sinks seeing her two friends in such a broken state. She hugs you both tightly and recomforts you, guiding you back to the festival.

No one of you including Trevor who was sleeping to the lullaby of alcohol had mood to continue in the village that night, going home was the only option. Your friends would sleep in the castle.

You didn't exchange a word way back to home until you silently opened the doors of your chambers and slowly slipped off from your dress. In the oval mirror, you could spot the two marks caused by the agressor's hands. A lump forms in your throat again, it's been q while since you don't feel your child, you fear the worst happened.

Alucard cames in, wrapping his arms around you though he hesitated for a while. He kisses your cheek and kneals down in front of you, pressing his ear against your belly.

"Can you hear it? The heartbeat... can you still hear anything?"

You speak, trying your best to not to cry being so aprehensive about his answer. He lingers a little, shifting his position and lowing down his breath.

"I can hear it."

He looks up at you, a sigh of relieve leaves your body.

"Our puiuţ is safe."

Alucard stands up after placing a kiss on your belly and wraps his arms around you, wiping away your relieved tears. You hug him tightly, sobs muffled by his chest and his tears fall over your hair as well.

"That was my fault"

You silently climb onto bed after calming down from the overwhelming night you had, and after minutes, he finally breaks the silence.

"It was my fault. If you or our baby got hurt, it would be my fault"

You didn't want to rub salt into the wound though you knew the incident was directly linked to the fact Alucard left you. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you listen to his apologize.

"I should have known you would be pissed off with me because of Greta, but it was not my intention. Forgive me, darling. I promise i will never leave your side ever again"

He turns to face you with those droopy amber eyes, tears tangled between his long eyelashes and he blinks for them to follow their flow. You cup Alucard's cheek and gives him a ressuring smile. You couldn't be mad at him.

"Accepted"

Seeing Alucard have another breakdown was the last thing you wanted to see. He wraps his arms around you, hand resting on your belly like a shield as you sleep in a deep slumber, lulled by the wind knocking on the window.

[inkperch]

Because the fourth/third it's now going to has been formally protesting the decision for all five of those days?

explain to me like i’m five why taking away jordan chiles medal five days late makes sense

[bloodismymedium]

🔪Even More Mona Lanius Headcanons🎨

🫀 Mona speaks in a flat, monotone yet raspy/scratchy voice and is almost always speaking in a whisper, she sounds like what I imagine a ghost sounding like, unnatural yet kind of beautiful.

🫀 Mona is a chain smoker, which is a contributing factor to why her voice is so raspy sounding. Bill was an alcoholic who used alcohol to drown his violent, psychopathic thoughts but he quit after meeting Mona.

🫀 Mona genuinely smells like death, like a mix of rotting flesh and strong paint/chemical fumes. Her smelling like a corpse is caused by a combination of bromhidrosis (chronic body odor) and the fact that she constantly surrounds herself with death and decay.

🫀 Mona will often mix some of the blood of her victims in with her paints when she makes their paintings, a way of further immortalizing them and what she did to them as well as a twisted way of paying tribute to them, like she’s actually “thanking” them in being a part of her artistic endeavors.

🫀 Mona is of Ecuadorian and Romanian descent. Mona has no real sentimental connection to her heritage however as she doesn’t speak a lick of Spanish or Romanian and her parents never really taught her anything about her heritage either.

🫀 Mona is scary good in using all types of knives and other kinds of bladed implements thanks to years in learning how to use them in many contexts, such as learning how to cut and dress meat after hunting trips with her father as a child to “practicing” on her victims. She knows a fair number of knife tricks as well.

🫀 Mona and Bill started off as equals, a real Bonnie & Clyde type of duo but Bill’s deteriorating mental state caused by fully embracing his psychosis and being fed a LOT of drugs and painkillers resulted in him essentially becoming more of a guard dog. Mona is fine with this since she finds it cute and likes that she has a more dominant role now ⛓️

🫀 Mona and Bill were not going to kill Tina but rather they were planning on “adopting” her because Mona became enamored with her and wanted to “keep” her. Mona blinded and deafened Tina in order to make her 100% dependent on her and was planning on cutting her arms and legs off completely as well to achieve this.

🫀 Mona in general exhibits an odd desire to be a mother, which is exhibited in quirks such as keeping dolls and playing with them as if they were her children. This is especially apparent in the “baby” she made for herself from what she deemed as the “best parts” of the babies she killed when she blew up a daycare, she sings/hums to it, cradles it softly and even keeps it in an old Victorian stroller.

🫀 Despite this, Mona fucking HATES kids because they all remind her of all the mistreatment and abuse she took from kids in her neighborhood when she was a child, which is why what she did to the Beck twins would become what most would consider to be one of her most brutal murders. To her, it was personal.

🫀 Mona has a habit of preserving things in jars of formaldehyde whether they be internal organs, fetuses/infants, cool bugs, even stuffed animals. She only does this when something has really stood out to her, even seemingly random things she has chosen to preserve has significant, even sentimental reasons behind it.

🫀 Mona, perhaps unsurprisingly, is a huge art nerd. She has studied art since a very young age and has great knowledge of art history, she’s surprisingly insightful and engaging when she talks about art and she actually would’ve made a great art teacher. Her favorite painter as a child was Frida Kahlo.

🫀 Mona’s favorite paintings are The Garden of Earthly Delights (Heironymus Bosch), Saturn Devouring His Son (Francisco Goya), The Hands Resist Him (Bill Stoneham), The Fall of the Rebel Angels (Pieter Bruegel), The Wounded Deer (Frida Kahlo), The Anguished Man (unknown) and Night Creeper (Zdzislaw Beksinski). She’s a big fan of Beksinski’s work in general.

[kaiserin-erzsebet]

So, here are my long thoughts on The Last Voyage of the Demeter because I'm jetlagged and trying to keep myself awake.

I'm going to organize it from my biggest issues to my smallest nitpicks. Because I am aware that some of the things that bother me are nitpicks. Also this movie is old enough that I don't think spoilers are out of line.

Anyway, here are my thoughts:

I don't think I can fairly judge the movie as an adaptation of Dracula. This would be a short review if that was my standard, because it is a bad adaptation. There's a laundry list of reasons why, and I'll get back to one of them because I think it is indicative of how this movie fumbled the story. It takes a very loose approach to the book, and that wouldn't be entirely fair to fixate on. But I will point out where I think the book executed a theme or tone element more effectively.

I fully went into the movie ready to judge it on its own merits as a self-contained horror story. That's why I was surprised that I disliked it so much, because it doesn't hold up as a piece of horror media. I think the core issue is that the screenplay fundamentally was thinking of itself as a movie about people fighting a monster.

In that respect, it does away with something that makes the Captain's log such an effective part of the original book: The mystery.

The original section is an exercise in dramatic irony. You, as the reader, have already seen the thing making the crew vanish, because you read Jonathan's diary and know what is in the boxes (even if you were reading it for the first time and didn't have the cultural osmosis of knowing who Dracula). You know why they are in danger. The captain doesn't. He spends most of the log trying to figure out what is going on and if it is misfortune or something really on board with them. He only sees Dracula at the very end of the log, when there is little he can do except tie himself to the wheel.

The book answers the question of "why don't they make port or throw the boxes overboard?" with saying that the captain doesn't know for sure if it is actually something malicious related to the cargo. The Romanian first mate has to slowly come to the realization that he does know, because he's resisting believing in superstition. Only when the knife passes through Dracula without harming him does he panic because it's undeniable that he's facing a folklore monster.

That build up is entirely absent from The Last Voyage of the Demeter. Anna just tells them within the first half hour of the movie (she's also a very inconsistent character, but I'll get back to that), and within days the crew has literally seen Dracula multiple times. People aren't mysteriously vanishing; they've been killed pretty clearly and there are survivors with bite marks. The deck is littered with body parts at points. It makes the voiceovers about "some doom" being on the ship seem comical, because the captain has seen with his own eyes what is going on.

The only reason given for why they can't make port to deal with the issue is that they're too far away, I guess? Which is also not the case for a ship sailing that route. This isn't an open sea voyage.

While the pacing of a movie and the pacing of a show are different, The Terror did this so much better. You don't get to see the Tuunbaq clearly until quite late in the series. People just vanish or get mauled by...something. That sense of mystery is just gone in The Last Voyage. And it is disappointing because that was a huge opportunity to nail the tone.

If I had to come up with the key elements of what the Demeter section is, it would be: A Horror Story about a ship with a tragic ending.

They didn't nail the horror, but what about the other two?

There's also a puzzling lack of understanding of the dynamics on a ship throughout the movie. One glaring example is that the First Mate and Clemens make the decision to sink the ship without even asking the captain first. I know this is the merchant navy and not the navy, but that is still a galling lack of discipline. The captain is in charge and his duty is to the whole ship and the crew.

The original captain's log makes use of this. Dracula more or less kills his way up the chain of command because he's a sadist. He's forcing the commanding officers to feel more desperation as they fail in their duty to protect their crew.

The Last Voyage makes the captain a very minor character, which at least to me reveals a misunderstanding of how hierarchy works in a ship. While I don't think including new characters is necessarily bad, Clemens and Anna make most of the important decisions, and neither of them particularly have standing with the crew. It undercuts the idea of responsibility and letting people come to harm under your care (which carries through later to Lucy and Mina).

I'll return to other ways the ship setting feels incorrect later, because those are closer to nitpicks.

So, third element: is it a tragedy? Does everyone on board die by the end?

The opening scene may make you think so. But no, actually they don't. Clemens escapes and ends the movie vowing to hunt down Dracula. For one, this is where it is a bad Dracula adaptation because that simply cannot happen and maintain the plot of Dracula. Unless he was rather dense when he read about the Bloofer Lady in the paper and decided that wasn't related. But additionally, the tone of the ending radically changes. It isn't a tragedy where the last act of a brave man is to stay at the wheel, because he isn't the lone survivor left to be battered to death by either the storm or Dracula anymore. In fact most of the crew is still there for the multiple people vs Dracula fight.

This is where the tone really failed for me: the story has a winner, a hero, someone who can make it out alive. And it's the new character. That just did not sit well with me when the original is such a poignant tragedy.

The First Mate, who is the character most primed to come to a realization, hardly has an arc in The Last Voyage.

The insistence that they can fight and maybe even win also makes both Clemens and Anna incredibly inconsistent characters. She especially suffers from this, because she should in theory have the knowledge of how to repel a vampire (the villagers certainly have some idea in the book), but then she says things like "do you think I have the faintest idea how to kill him?" and in the next breath is urging the crew to kill him before he reaches London. She also says Dracula is going to London because "there is no one left in my home country to feed on" but her backstory is that she's on the ship as a deal so Drac can have a snack. So, clearly, he can get people to feed on if he wants.

Clemens is the "too smart and rational" character. But he also never thinks maybe they should expose the boxes to sunlight even after seeing people combust in sunlight after turning. It's all terribly inconsistent.

The decision to not write the story as a tragedy ends up cascading, and that's the root of the issue. They can't win and kill the monster without completely changing the story of the novel, so they are only competent to a point. It makes it a worse horror movie, even disregarding it as an adaptation.

Now for the nitpicks, including quite a few about boats that probably only I noticed:

The aesthetics are all over the place in terms of period. Clemens spends a large part of the movie (which is set in the 1890s) running around in a lace up pirate shirt. No one on this ship owns a period appropriate boat cloak. None of their shirts have remotely the right collars, giving the sense that nautical fashion was sort of vaguely consulted over the long 18th to 19th century-ish.

Please look at this and tell me that it is even remotely late 19th century:

Here's Olek from 1899 for comparison (note the correct high collar and undershirt):

The dialogue suffers from this too. More than one person uses the word "heathen" which just feels wildly out of place in something that is supposed to have rationality and superstition as the key touchpoints (at least if it wants to be like Dracula). It sounds weird coming from a time period 20 years before World War 1. Sailors especially were more likely to be vaguely Christian but mostly superstitious, not zealots using terms like "heathen."

Additional aesthetic nitpick: The ship looks way too old for the period. That is an early to mid 19th century ship sailing in the 1890s without any retrofitting. There's a throwaway line about the captain not wanting a fancy new steamship, but that doesn't account for how antique the captain's quarters are or the lack of metal on the hull. Again, the nautical aesthetics are all skewing too early. If this ship was still a Russian ship like the original, an older sailing vessel might have said something about the lag in Russian shipbuilding, it works less with an English merchant ship.

There's some functional issues about understanding sailing: The ship is way too spacious inside. Really tall men are standing up straight and walking around the hold with no trouble. That may seem like a small point, but imagine what actually exploiting the claustrophobic feeling below decks could have done for the ambiance.

The ship is definitely undercrewed given the number of masts they are showing. That many men would really struggle to reef all of the sails in a timely manner (which would matter in a storm). The writers put a crew of a small fishing vessel on a ship that is much larger and requires more hands. And it is puzzling because more people would mean: more kills and disappearances as well as giving a progression of being unable to raise and lower the sails and also keep someone at the wheel. Which, I will note, the original log does.

My first red flag about this movie was having seemingly no Slavic characters on a ship that was Russian in the original. But now that I've seen it, I'm even more annoyed that the one Russian character exists to: call a woman a slur, call a black man a slur (a rather British one imo), and then immediately be murdered on screen. Can't have nuance in how we portray Slavic people in Western media, huh?

I also get the sense that the screenwriter didn't know the difference between Romanian and Romani, because the first mate is vaguely hinted to be Romani (the kid mentions "Wojchek taught me some words in Romani") and has a Western Slavic first name, not a Romanian one. When in the book he is explicitly Romanian.

Rapid fire ways the movie gets the book wrong on a nitpicky level: Dracula doesn't get more human looking as he nears London, a vampire who prides himself on being aristocratic isn't going to drink from pigs or rats, the vampires in the book can go in sunlight but are weaker, religious artifacts are way more powerful deterrents in the book, and Clemens is way too casual about transfusions. It makes Van Helsing doing it seem less like an act of desperation. Anna gets Mina's ability to sense Dracula without putting in the effort to reverse engineer the connection.

Someone please tell me that Nosferatu is better. This was honestly very frustrating.