#dracula is. as we say. a bastard :)

[castlephantom]

Lament of Innocence things that I question myself (if I'm not alone 👀):

"They trusted each other completely, and they were bound by an old friendship."

The age gap between Leon and Mathias is literally 10 years. But that allows me to have some headcanon that Leon and Mathias knew each other because possibly their fathers were also knights or their mother had known each other.

"Rinaldo: The only person who truly understands it is Mathias.

Leon: If you are an acquaintance of Mathias, you are trustworthy."

Like how long Rinaldo and Mathias knew each other. Some think that they met few years ago but then is this line:

"Rinaldo: His family has a book of secret arts, originally handed down orally."

Which this gives me a theory that Mathias met Rinaldo when he was young. I can't exclude the possibility that Rinaldo also knew Mathias' father. I want to imagine that Mathias' father searched an alchimist and somehow he met Rinaldo.

"Succubus: Th-That old man... his own daughter..."

This really interesting aspect that Rinaldo's daughter, Justine, served her at one point if we take the comic, but I want to think that Justine was a teenager when she was turned by Walter and then was given to serve the Succubus. But then the alchimist says:

"Rinaldo: ... And at the center of it were the bodies of my wife and son... I could not believe my eyes... My daughter was there, laughing, blood dripping from her mouth..."

Justine was probabily outside before she became a vampire. After she was turned, she killed her mother and brother (and I think that she was the second born while her brother was the first born) and Rinaldo was in shock state.

The reason why Rinaldo didn't tell to Leon in the first place is because was uncomfortable topic after someone when really in hell and when he killed his daughter, Rinaldo cried about his family after he lost against Walter and stayed in the cabin, but want a revange for Walter had done to him.

"Rinaldo: Making the Philosopher's Stone is the ultimate goal of alchemy... It provides eternal youth. The two other stones were apparently created accidentally. No details of how they were made remain now."

So the Ebony and Crimson stones were creared accidentally? But if we look to create the Philosopher's Stone where were needed four stages:

nigredo, the blackening or melanosis

albedo, the whitening or leucosis

citrinitas, the yellowing or xanthosis

rubedo, the reddening, purpling, or iosis

This give a me a theory that the where other 2 stones besides the Ebony Stone (the weakest) and Crimson Stone (the strongest).

"Leon: I abandoned everything in order to save Sara! I could... I could never do such a thing."

At this point Leon was really in the most desperate to save Sara only to find out that Walter vampirized her. Leon didn't want to sacrifice her, but Sara felt that she would become a monster. Saddly, Leon made the choise that would bring the existence of the most iconic warpon: Vampire Killer.

"Walter: I see... It seems you have enjoyed the gift that I gave you.

Leon: Yes, thanks to that, I now have the power to defeat you."

Literally Leon was trying to say: Thanks for turning my girlfriend intro a vampire and now I have the power to kill you. (I didn't want to make joke about this, but this was probabily in Leon's mind)

"Mathias: That was my goal. It was my revenge against God!"

One thing that Mathias did this was because Elisabetha died and he was jealous of Leon that Sara was alive. But as I mention in the my post of cause of Elisabetha's illness, which I believe that was the real reason why she died.

"Leon: Is this what the woman you loved would have wanted? The Mathias I know would not have loved such a woman."

At first I thinked that "your wife didn't want you to become like this" but then something was in my mind that "do you ever thinked that your wife would be happy". Seriously Mathias. How selfish you could be? He uses Elisabetha as a pretext at this point for his goals.

"Mathias: Elisabetha was a kind, honorable woman. She was concerned only for me to the very end... That is why I hate Him! Am I wrong?!"

Are you sure, Mathias. I really think that Elisabetha is probabily felling sad at her husband's actions. Imagine if Mathias' parents watch at their son from afterlive and and be like: "... seriously son?! We didn't raises you like that!?". Also would be an argument between Leon's and Mathias' parents.

But imagine that after the events and Leon suddenly tells to Rinaldo about what happend:

Leon: Mathias is a vampire.

Rinaldo: Unfortunatly, he would become like Walter.

But after that tragedy, Leon married a woman that started the liniage so their descedents will hunt Mathias.

[beevean]

Ah yes, it's Draactor time :)

~

“It seems that you held him dear to heart. Is that right?”

“Ah, Count Dracula? Yes, in a sense. And I thought he held me to heart as well.”

“Really?”

“He was quite proud of me. He had nothing but praise for my work. At first, I only lived for those kind words. But at some point, his admiration began to feel like a chain around my neck.”

Hector didn’t know what to think.

It was clear as day that Lord Dracula held him in high regard. Isaac, who by that point could barely keep himself upright, was always a hair’s breadth from reaching their Lord’s expectations. He was strict, cutting in his criticism, knowing and expressing that Isaac could always do better. The student has surpassed his teacher, he had commented idly one time, and for a few days, Hector was careful to not walk too loudly by Isaac’s locked door, and not listen too closely to the sounds coming from behind it.

The Lord’s admiration was reserved for Hector and Hector only.

His sincere smiles and hands lingering on shoulders were all for who was now called the Lord’s protégé.

The vampire’s fangs had long left a collar of scars around his throat; no matter how quickly he healed them, they pulled each time he turned his head, faint to the eye but always felt on his skin. Isaac’s marks no longer looked like an impressive badge of honor.

Hector was different. He was special, one of a kind, the most satisfying student, the purest expression of Hell’s power in a human.

And Hector should have been in seventh heaven. What he could only pray for as a child, he was being showered with at long last. It was the sole reason he would still find the strength to get out of his bed and squeeze himself dry for every last drop of life: the earnest, earned approval from the one being who took him under his wing.

He should have been – but Isaac would drag him back on the ground, and keep him there under the burden of his envy.

Lord Dracula’s compliments had acquired a bittersweet taste. Hector couldn’t help but tense every time, muscles ready in anticipation, because the more appreciation the Lord openly showed for Hector’s work, the more resentment he’d brew in Isaac’s heart, as if the vampire amused himself by pitting his Devil Forgemasters against each other. Then he’d swat away those horrible thoughts, because their Lord only wanted the best for them, and as Generals they had a standard to meet. It just so happened that Hector had become the standard.

Was that really enough reason for Isaac to grow cold towards his friend, as if they no longer shared a past?

He understood very quickly that when Isaac was hurting, Hector had to bear the brunt of his pain, whether he was willing or not: it was his fault that Dracula deemed him disappointing, it was his fault that he dared to humiliate him, and he had to do something about it, since he was so talented.

But if he was, then how could Isaac make him feel so powerless?

They settled into yet another uncomfortable, comforting routine. Isaac started to demand more and more of him, to make things fair. And Hector, out of options, gave him the only thing he had: himself.

He laid there, body and mind full of Isaac, knowing that being used was the fair price for being loved, and wondered if he’d ever see his friend smile for him again. The castle looked dimmer without it. The cheerful boy he once knew was hiding behind the acrimonious man whose frigid gaze tore through him, like the sun covered by stormy clouds: Hector only needed to draw him out, show him that there was still place for him.

However, the most stubborn part of him – the part that in his mind looked like his child self, thin and dirty and with skin covered in a different kind of bruises and always peering from behind doors – dug his feet in, and insisted that he had the right to hoard Lord Dracula’s affection for himself, because he had earned it.

Hector was able to withstand his Lord’s insisting touch, that slid off him like cold grease poured down his back, for the chance of hearing his words that tasted like salvation for all the sins he had committed, and clutching them to his chest, filling the void Isaac left behind.

He was precious to at least one person in the castle.

It nearly made the sickness inside him worth it.

Even though, a few times, Hector had thought that Lord Dracula could spare some mercy for Isaac’s best efforts, he was sure that the Lord would have no reason to repeat him those things if he didn’t mean them.

Those convictions dissipated like smoke in the wind.

[soaps-mohawk]

I just saw someone talk about Simon Riley being a rapist and the only way they tried to confirm it is by saying that he is a war criminal and all soldiers are misogynistic and sexist and they also talked about how he dreamt of hurting women in the comics when that's quite literally a normal reaction by being raped by both men and women (what I mean is that abused people sometimes dream of becoming someone they're not and don't want to be) but they conveniently forgot to mention how that "dream" was a nightmare. (Just wanted to rant about this and see your opinion)

The sigh I let out when I saw this ask this morning.

I'm so sick and tired of seeing this discourse. Not just in this fandom but in every fandom. Maybe it's just because I'm old and my frontal lobe is fully developed, or maybe it's because I was in fandom back in the days where there were no tags. You were lucky if you got a warning at the beginning of a fic. Most fics you walked in blind and if you didn't like something? You hit the back button and found something else.

This sudden mainstreaming of fandom has ruined these spaces. People come in, refuse to "learn the rules" that most of us learned by just existing in these spaces and watching others interact. There were no written rules back then. We learned by observing and occasionally being guided on fandom etiquette by those more experienced than us. Now it's just like people come in expecting fandom to be like every other space on the internet and then get defensive and angry when they realize it's not. Fandom is cringy. It's nerdy. It's happy and sunshine and it's dark and ugly like every media out there. Us creators and those of us more experienced in fandom have been screaming how to exist in fandom spaces from the rooftops but no one is listening and then everyone wonders why creators are leaving these spaces. Why fandoms keep getting abandoned.

All of that aside, this discourse about FICTIONAL characters pisses me off. Simon Riley is a FICTIONAL character. He has no morality, there is no right or wrong because he's FICTIONAL. You can make him do whatever you want to do because he's NOT REAL. You can give him wings and have him fly and guess what?? Cool, that can happen because he's NOT REAL. You want to make him a rapist? Cool, you can do that because he's FICTIONAL. You can make him whatever you want to make him because he's a character. He's not a living, breathing human being. There are no consequences of his actions because he's FICTIONAL!!!

Don't even get me started on this sudden discourse about dark fics and dead dove that's appeared recently. Dark media has existed for literal centuries. The Epic of Gilgamesh from 1800 BCE. The Odyssey. Mostellaria by Plautus. The Castle of Otranto published in the 1700s. Frankenstein. Dracula. The works of Edgar Allan Poe. Lolita. Hell, look at the Bible. The Bible, especially the old testament, is fucked up. Even in the watered down, bastardized King James version, the things the old testament "God" supposedly did, when you sit and actually think about them outside the lens of religious brainrot, are super fucked up.

People have been creating dark media for a long time. Horror has existed for a long time because it plays to our worst fears. It gives us a safe way to express those fears and to experience them without having to experience them first hand. You wouldn't bitch at a horror movie director for including things like rape and gore and murder in their movies?? So why is writing different? You think every horror movie director agrees with the things they portray on screen? You think every horror movie director would go out and murder someone just because they made a movie about it? No, because we're allowed to portray things in all forms of media, we're allowed to write things without morally agreeing with them. Guess what, most people that write rape or assault or violence, aren't going out and doing those things in real life. They don't support those things in real life. In fact, people that write dark fanfics are some of the loudest protesters against those things.

If you want to make Simon Riley a real person, guess what? He's not going to be even morally grey. Most people in the military are not good people. They're not. The people that are good people in the military, or were in the military, are the ones saying that the loudest. People that got tricked into joining, people that got promised things, people that did it because they had no other choice and then realized what it was really like after getting in? Those are the people to listen to. Not Call of Duty, not the people trying to convince you to join because they're glorified sales people and have a quota to fill. Look up videos of what happened in Iraq and Afghanistan at the hands of American and British soldiers. You would not like Simon Riley if he were a real person.

But he's not real. He's FICTIONAL. Even as a fictional character, he's not a good person. So many Call of Duty fans put on the blinders and ignore the fact that these men are out here committing awful acts of violence and killing people because they're "the good guys." People love to forget that Price literally kidnapped a woman and a child and had them held at gunpoint to get information out of someone. Not only that, he was okay with it. If he were a real person that did that, you would not be questioning if he were a good person or not. You can tell the people that have never played the games or watched playthroughs, who only know these characters through the lenses of fanfics and artwork and headcanons.

Call of Duty is military propaganda. They paint these men as heroes, make it easy to put the blinders up and ignore the things that are happening, the things they're doing so that they can convince young men that they want to do that and they should join the military so they can go out and do that too. That's Call of Duty's audience. That's who they're creating these games for. These young, impressionable boys who get excited by the violence and the action who will go on to fill quota numbers for recruiters. Call of Duty was not made for us, the people writing fanfiction and creating art for it. This side of the Call of Duty fandom will be the first to tell you all of this.

This side of the fandom creates fanworks which would turn Activision's eyes red. We babygirlify their military propaganda because it actively goes against what Activision is trying to do. It goes against what Call of Duty is at its core. Sure, some people water it down a lot, and others keep it more realistic to what these men would be like in real life, because it's FICTION. You can portray these characters however you want because that's what fiction is for.

And guess what, anon? Rape kinks exist. Consensual non-consent exists. It's well known. And guess what? Victims of sexual assault and rape can develop those kinks as a coping mechanism. Here's a study from the NIH website, and if that's too complex for you, here's a VICE news article that uses that study. People can write rape and rape kinks and CNC and noncon and not support it in real life. People can write those things to bring awareness to the fact that they happen to people in real life, or because people in real life have those kinks. People write those things to help victims, to support them. It's cathartic. Dark media most often is created for catharsis. It gives people an outlet, and it allows people to experience those things in a safe, controlled environment for whatever reason.

And that's the thing, anon. People don't have to give anyone a reason for why the consume that kind of media. Creators don't owe anyone an explanation as to why they create it. It's none of your business, and if you're not comfortable with it, then don't consume it. You can turn off the TV if a horror movie is too much for you. People walk out of theaters all the time because a movie is not what they were expecting, be it because it was bad or because it was too graphic or violent or disgusting. You start reading a book and you don't like it for whatever reason? You put the book down and pick up another. Why do people have such a problem with not reading fanfics they don't like? Why do people have such a hard time just blocking creators that make things they don't want to see. Most dark fic and dead dove creators put ample warnings on their blog and their posts. That's why those tags exist. You don't like it and you don't want to see it? Then block and move on and let others enjoy what they want to enjoy.

You pearl clutchers are ruining fandom and soon there won't be anything for you to enjoy. If you can't handle fandom, then don't be in it. There is no algorithm here. You're going to see things you don't want to see and it's very easy to just block and filter tags. There was a time on Tumblr where you couldn't filter tags. I remember those days. You had to download the X-kit extension to block things, and that only worked on desktop. The fact Tumblr gave us the option to filter tags on the site and on the app was a big deal when it was rolled out. I remember so many people that didn't want to use the app when it first came out because you couldn't block potentially triggering tags.

It's not a creator's problem if you were triggered by their media. Life doesn't come with trigger warnings and it's a blessing that it's become so normalized to include warnings at the beginnings of fics. There's websites that exist for other forms of media that will give trigger warnings. If you can look up trigger warnings for a movie and decide not to watch it, you can look at the trigger warnings for fics and decide not to interact with it. You're not out here emailing the directors and producers of movies that include triggers you don't like, telling them they're awful people for including those things in their movie and they shouldn't. Yet you have no problem coming into the comments and inboxes creators who do this FOR FREE because we wrote one dark fic. Because we wrote something that's triggering to you.

And yes, some abuse victims go on to be abusers, some people continue that cycle because they don't have the help and support to break it. It's a sad thing that happens, but it happens. It happens in the fictional world and it happens in real life. People can make that happen to fictional characters for whatever reasons they want.

I've written dark fics. I've written several. I consume "disturbing" media for fun. I've read books and watched movies that would send these pearl clutchers to the hospital. Hell, I've probably written things (some published, some that will never see the light of day) that would turn these pearl clutchers inside out. Guess what? That's okay because it's FICTION. It's cathartic. I don't have to give my reasons why because it's no one's business except those I decide to tell because I trust them and I know they'll support me. I don't support those things in real life. Just because I write for Call of Duty doesn't mean I support the things the game portrays. If you consume Call of Duty media be it the games or fanfiction, does that mean you support what the game supports? What the creators of the games support? What militaries around the world support?

Think about that next time.

I’ve made my stance very clear here before, but I’ll do it again. In real life, I am anti military, anti war, anti gun violence, anti genocide, anti fascism, anti terf, anti homophobia, anti conservative, anti rape, anti domestic violence, anti colonialism and pro choice.

Just because I may create or consume media with those things in it, does not mean I support them. It's high time some of these pearl clutchers learn that.

The next time you want to come into a creator's inbox or comments and spew hatred towards them because of the things they write, why don't you do something useful with your time instead.

This will be my only discussion on this topic. I will not be answering any more asks like this. I will delete and block anyone who tries to come "well actually"-ing into my inbox. If you don't agree with this stance, then get off my blog and block me.

[see-arcane]

Friends, bookworms, bitter lovers of classic literature’s greatest and most greatly cheated horrors, I have a request to make of you:

Send me the absolute worst film and TV series you know of when it comes to adapting—read: ruining, rewriting, and/or bastardizing beyond the point of recognition—the books of classic horror we know and love.

Give me your fanfictions of a fanfiction-level headaches. Your reincarnated wife plots. Your no-homo’d friends and/or siblings. Your heroes made into sudden assholes, your grating girlbosses full of contemporary wink-at-the-camera edginess, your dull damsels sanded down into corseted props, your monsters alternately stripped of their proper menace or their intelligence in order to fit the Universal Classics mold.

Give me the worst of your slop.

Plague me with your anti-recommendations in their dozens and hundreds.

Why do I make this request? So I can form a list. Ideally with cited sources, though I think we’re all aware that the easiest way to form said list is to just link to Wikipedia. I am at a loss for any known work that faithfully does right by our dusty old monsters and their foes.*

*Incidentally, if anyone has anything they would sincerely recommend to take the edge off, pass those my way too with your review. No need to suggest the Substacks or @re-dracula. They are my sole refuge as-is.

The reason for the list is that I would like to have it as reference material for what I hope can be a decently public-facing open letter to Hollywood as a plea, a curse, and a general shaming for the industry that has refused to actually read, comprehend, and acknowledge the books they continue to harvest for content without ever doing right by the stories, casts, or themes. Their notion of ‘adaptation’ has dissolved entirely into a game of Telephone with the last half a dozen filmmakers who barely skimmed, let alone liked, the books in question.

That said, I have some specific books in mind already, starting with Dracula and The Picture of Dorian Gray. You know why. But others on the roster include Frankenstein, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, Carmilla, and The Phantom of the Opera. Let me have the worst of the worst of their movie and television counterparts; that goes double for the ones that have made you full-body cringe at their popularity.*

*It goes without saying that Francis’ fanfiction is at the top of the list. No need to rub more salt in that wound.

My inbox is ready for your worst, friends. Hand over the bile.

[darklinaforever]

So ! I need to say that !

Hades & Persephone's relationship is canonically a loving and quite healthy relationship in the context of Greek mythology which represents a form of balance for the world through the cycle of the seasons. Persephone is not a victim of Hades either... Anyone who has studied Greek mythology can actually explain it to you.

That's a bad vision of the original myth due to a too modern interpretation. It's not the modern era that romanticizes this basic relationship. This was already the case in Greek times...

It even seems to me that Hades and Persephone were often represented on the vases given to newlyweds (pretty crazy, since Hera was literally the goddess of marriage) because they were always described as having a loving, supportive and harmonious marriage.

And if you're looking for a real culprit in the union of Hades & Persephone, there's literally Zeus, who authorized the marriage between the two after Hades came to ask him. Hades didn't kidnap Persephone as soon as he saw her. He first asked to his father, Zeus, for her hand in marriage, as in the Greek traditions of the time.

In some versions of the myth, it even seems to me that Aphrodite is the one who provoked Hades' love for Persephone by sending Eros to plant an arrow in her after being upset by a refusal. But for now, I'm not sure of Aphrodite's real involvement.

But regardless, in the original myth, the one blamed is actually very clearly Zeus. He is the one, once again, having authorized the kidnapping of Persephone, which in Greek traditions translates into an engagement, and who has caused the whole messy situation with poor Demeter.

As for the grenade episode, it doesn't seem to me that we can know the original version. So the whole "Hades forced Persephone to eat the pomegranate" thing is also bullshit.

There doesn't even seem to me to be any indication of Persephone having been mistreated in any way by Hades in the myth. It's again bullshit.

I'm making this post because I've had yet another person explain to me that Persephone is a victim of Hades and that our modern age romanticizes the relationship between the two.

"Yes. Like Persephone gets bastardised. Persephone was Hades's assault victim. People try to "modernize" her by making her want Hades (all while making Demeter to be in the wrong). Mina was Dracula's assault victim. People try to "modernize" her by making her cheat on Jonathan for Dracula."

Except no. Persephone is not a victim of Hades in the context of Greek myth. That's a stinking modern vision. Kind of ironic, when you argue that it's the modern view that stands in for the real version of Persephone being a victim of Hades when... well no. It's the modern era that makes Persephone a victim of abuse at the hands of Hades, (this all reminds me of how people make Rhaenyra a victim of grooming in her relationship with Daemon) while that is not the case in the context of the original myth. As I explained above, this interpretation is modern bullshit. And it is very important to transcribe the myths in their ancient context to understand their various messages, otherwise you will miss the point.

But I won't elaborate further because @cthonisprincess has already explained it very well. I invite you to go and see these reblogs below which detail the whole affair of Hades and Persephone in much more detail :

I even recommend this video :

My god, I can't believe that in 2024, people are still at the stage of demonizing Hades, even though he is one of the rare decents gods, and still claiming that Persephone is an assault victim of Hades... This is a shameful distortion of the original myth and a real bastardization of the goddess Persephone.

Also... we're literally talking about a myth. The goal of a myth is to be reinvented according to the times. So what does it matter that there are adaptations of the myth that differ from the said myth, or rather from the biased vision that some have of making Persephone a poor victim of the evil Hades ?!

@aleksanderscult

[princesssmars]

season of the witch

a trephacard x witch reader

wc : 3.644

the saviors of wallachia are tasked with the removal of a dark entity plaguing a town, just to meet a new acquaintance instead.

contains: mentions of murder and violence, cursing, mentions of nsfw bc trevor belmont is a Bastard. fluff. me losing my sanity i need them so bad.

a/n : i miss them so badly god please.

the heart of the forest inside of wallachia was always dark, even before dracula unleashed demons from hell onto them that bloody night. some of the trees were thin, fragile, and tall; looking over you like a shadow looming behind your back. the others were thick and rotting, full of branches hanging off of them like a monster about to strike. staying in these woods long wasn't something meant for the faint of heart.

luckily, the three heroes of wallachia (or the entire world, depending on who you asked), were anything but that. unluckily, they didn't know how to be quiet.

"there's no shame in admitting we're lost really, it happens to the best of us-" "shut your mouth.” trevor quickly cuts off alucard’s jest, trying to focus on steering the group’s cart through the rough terrain. even the horses seemed on edge.

he was too, not like he would admit it out loud. he had heard stories from his older brothers about what was in here. monsters. witches. demons. but then again, he wasn't a stubborn little child who couldn't fight his battles anymore.

he was now a stubborn adult.

“boys, be civil just for this trip, please. we need to save our energy,” syphas’ head pops out from inside the cart, looking between them like a scolding mother. “i have a weird feeling about this job, I can't describe it. but, in case it's bad, we should probably hurry.”

the “job” sypha was talking about was of course investigating the woods and the small town close to them, to the northeast of gresit. there had been reports of strange things happening in the woods-most likely night creatures that had escaped somehow. they'd go in, kill the creatures, retrieve their reward (and maybe some information and ale), then be gone. easy peasy.

“worry not, sypha, it's most likely some pissed-off night creatures that frightened a few of the townspeople. nothing we haven't dealt with before.” alucard says, moving to take her hand in his to further soothe her nerves.

“mhmm…” she hums, still staring straight ahead at the road.

they eventually arrive at the town, stopping the cart little ways out and getting out to walk the rest of the way. the informant said to meet them at the tavern, and when they step inside all eyes turn to them. there are a few seconds of tense silence before the bartender speaks up, “you the three here for the job?”

“yes, we’re here to help.” alucard steps forward with a polite look on his face.

the bar then breaks out into the usual chatter and laughter as the bartender smiles and waves them closer. the three make their way over to him and sit at the stools near the bar, with alucard sitting normally, trevor with his legs open, and sypha with hers crossed.

“can I get yall anything to drink? it's on the house, the least we could do” the bartender voices, cleaning some glasses.

“some beer would be nice, actually,” trevor says almost immediately, earning playfully annoyed looks from his lovers. “what? it's the least they could do!”

they're given their drinks and the bartender gives them some more information about the job, giving insight into how some men in the village went to hunt in the woods last week and haven't returned.

“it’d be best to head out in the morning if you ask me,” the bartender’s eyes flit around, looking almost nervous. “not to be superstitious but now is around the prime time for whatever lives in there.”

the group all share a look before trevor rests his arms on the bar. “then I guess we better get started.”

“is it just me or is there nothing in here to be worried about?” sypha whispers, narrowly avoiding tripping over a large root sticking out of the ground. they'd been walking for what felt like an hour with no sighting of any night creatures, just rarely stumbling across the normal creatures.

trevor sighs, dragging his feet behind his companions. “i knew it, probably just some scared old woman who saw a weirdly shaped tree in the dark.”

“and the men who went missing?” alucard pipes in.

“skipped town or fell in a ditch.”

sypha lets out a long sigh before stopping and turning around. “alright, this clearly isn't working. we should try something else.”

adrian hums, just as annoyed as her at this point. “i could climb the trees, try to get a better view of everything.”

the redhead lights up with a bright smile, clasping her hands together. “that's a great idea, adrian! come down and tell us if you've seen anything.”

he nods, quickly jump-teleporting up the branches of one of the taller trees. below, sypha looks up at him dreamily.

“pshh, i could climb a tree too, y’know.” trevor mumbles, crossing his arms. his face slacks when sypha kisses his cheek and says, “i know you could my love. it'd take you quite a bit, though.”

alucard glances through and above the trees that he can, able to see a good few miles out thanks to the height and his vampiric abilities. he looks around, almost giving up before he sees it: smoke.

jumping down, nearly scaring the daylights out of his partners who lightly scold him, he informs them of what he saw. glad to finally have a bit of action (even if its probably a straggler camping).

as they make their way deeper into the northern section of the woods, they start to feel…weird. like an unwelcoming energy surrounds them, urging, even begging them to leave.

trevor grunts, deciding to call out the uneasy feeling. “does anyone else feel weird or is it just me?”

“yes, there is indeed something strange in the air,” alucard nods, slowing his steps, “it feels like a protective spell, probably guarding something.”

“or someone,” sypha butts in. she's cast this kind of spell before on the castle and the hold to assure alucard they'd be safe while they traveled. it was a bit complicated, but her abilities were growing every day. but the way this spell felt, it had to have been cast by someone extremely powerful. “but we've already made it this far, we might as well see it…through…”

her voice trails off as all of their steps slow. in front of the group stands a small black cottage, the walls made of cobblestone, and the roof made with a dark wood. a path leading to the house turns into a bridge halfway through, reaching over a creek that comes from a small waterfall coming from one of the walls of rock that act as an enclosure for the abode. it was eerie yet almost comforting.

“my goodness…” sypha exclaimed, walking closer to the bridge until she felt a rough hand pulling her back. she looks up at trevor with questioning eyes while he sighs. “were you just gonna walk in and say hello?”

she scoffs, knowing that yeah, she might have. she knew she could be a little naive because of her upbringing and personality, but despite the dark exterior, this place seemed rather peaceful. almost comforting. it'd be hard to explain the connection she felt to this place already.

“if anything i would assume youd be the one to run into danger, trevor,” alucard jokes, walking past the two to analyze the house, “but he is right. we should proceed with caution.”

trevor and sypha nod their heads in agreement, following the blonde over the bridge and up to the door. sypha suggested knocking but in the middle of her sentence, trevor twists the door knob to find it open.

“wait!” she whisper yells, making the man's foot stop before it can cross the threshold. "there's another protection spell starting at the doorway, let me just..."

"i think it's a special sage, lets head in and investigate."

the redhead holds her hand up to the door, her palm brimming with her magic as it gets closer to the boundary. to her surprise, the air in the doorway seems to shimmer with energy. it slightly tickles her hand, making a slight giggle leave her lips.

the companions slowly step through the doorway into what seems like a cozy and cluttered living area. there were numerous books on the far wall, being split apart by a lit cobblestone fireplace. connected to the room is a small kitchen, with various herbs, spices, and plants lining the counters. leading from where the rooms meet is a hallway leading deeper into the cottage, with many candles on the walls being lit.

"look there," alucard tilts his head to the fireplace, noting how a small cauldron is laced on a hook over the flames, with the contents inside nearly boiling over, "whoever resides here has been in here recently."

"at least theyre a nice interior decorator. but id like to know where they're hiding because im becoming uncomfortable." trevor grunts, folding his arms over his chest.

sypha slightly chuckles, poking him in the arm. "oh don't tell me you’re scared of a little recluse, trephie."

"i told you to please stop calling me that-"

"what are you doing in my house?"

the two immediately stop their teasing, all three of the hunters still, turning slowly to face the direction the mystery voice came from.

standing in the doorway connecting the kitchen to the back portion of the yard stands a woman, wearing a casual cloth shirt and simple but slightly muddy trousers. in your arms is a bundle of vegetables and plants picked from what they assume must be a small farm. the thorns of one of the flowers pricks into the skin of your arm from your grip.

the three strangers stare at you, waiting for you to make a move of attack. when you raise your leg to take a step you see the brunette raise his hand to his hip, getting ready to grip-

"my gods, is that the morning star?" you gently exclaim, pointing to the infamous weapon attached to his whip. you'd read about it in one of your books regarding renowned weaponry and the families they were tied to. which meant... "that means you're a belmont, correct?"

as you look at your other sudden.."guests", you recognize the blonde as a vampire, given his catching eyes and pale skin, and the woman with red hair is wearing what you're pretty sure are traditional speaker robes. she’s oddly pretty for a speaker you think. the ones you've seen all seemed like they would drop dead at a gust of wind.

the woman carefully steps forward, placing her hands in front of you as the men visibly tense at her movement. she smiles at you, a really damn pretty smile, and stands up straight. "we did not mean to intrude in your home miss. well, technically we did but only because we've been sent by the people of-"

"belros." the word leaves your mouth like bile, your brows scrunching in annoyance. you sigh, moving over to the counter in the kitchen and setting down your produce before making your way around them and to your fireplace, gently removing the bubbling cauldron from over the fire.

"you’re familiar with the people in the village i assume? though i imagine you don't see them often, you're more than self-sufficient out here." alucard inquires, looking at the number of items stuffed into containers and shelves on the walls.

"im familiar with how the townspeople are a bunch of babbling idiots who would cower in fear at an eclipse," you spit, moving to turn towards the three of them, "and how they banished me from the village when i was young and frequently send people out here to rid of me in fear of what i might do to them."

"you’re telling me those people in belros kicked you put when you were what, a child? what’d you do?" trevor asks, putting his hands up when sypha fixes him with a hard glare.

"no, its fine. it’s reasonable for you to question it. do you mind if i ask your names first?" you move forward to sit on the couch, the speaker sitting on the couch with you while the belmont and dhampir sit on the identical couch across from you.

"well, my name is sypha belnades. these are my partners, trevor belmont and alucard tepes." sypha answers, pointing to each person as she says their name.

"its nice to meet you all. now if you don't mind me asking, how did a speaker, a belmont, and a vampire come to travel together?"

"well it all started with this ones batshit crazy father-"

"trevor!"

"its a bit more complicated than the nitwit makes it seem, but yes, we did come together because of my father. im sure you noticed the amount of hell he unleashed." alucard is calm when speaking, seeming used to trevors rude comments.

'they seem really close', your mind thinks. you feel yourself at ease a bit more.

“yes, it was trevor who saved me from my death, actually. after that, we found alucard and went to kill dracula. once we finished we decided to stick together.” sypha tells, her face bright as she talks about meeting her companions.

“well, I'm glad your encounters with other people these past few months have gone better than mine,” you sigh, moving to sit on one of your couches while they crowd onto the other, eager to hear your story.

you explain to them how you are a witch born with magic, coming from a fairly long line of powerful ones who worked behind the scenes so as to not scare humans with your abilities, lest they call you a demon and ostracize you or worse.

sadly, thats exactly whats happened to you. when you were but a child you had seen one of the town's hunters wounded in the woods, clearly about to die if you didnt help

when you had you found this cottage, you quickly fixed it up and moved it, putting up the protection spells in fear of being found by anything or anyone. but it was inevitable that you head out into the woods and people break through. it didn't phase you any longer to admit what you had to do to protect yourself.

their facial reactions are mixed, a variation of shock, horror, and anger. you were grateful they didn’t seem too upset about you basically confessing to murder, but you suppose they had seen and caused their fair share of death.

to your surprise sypha reaches over, taking your hands in her cold ones, trevor smirking at your visible shiver. “we are so sorry to hear that, y/n. if we had any idea of what the townspeople were like…”

“its alright, sypha. thank you for listening, let alone believing me.” you thank her, smiling at the woman.

“well what do we do now?” trevor questions, “its not like we can just go back there and say we had a nice chat with you and decided to be friendly.”

“i have an idea.” alucard says. “i will need to see what potion materials you have, may i?”

you nod and rise with him, guiding him over to your multitude of stuffed shelves in the seating area and the kitchen. while he’s searching for what he needs you cant help but admire him. ou had always read about the beauty of vampires but figured it was a farce they put on to lure in unsuspecting humans to their doom. but the man in front of you is ethereal and now staring back at you.

“my apologies, i didn't mean to stare and make you uncomfortable.” you nervously chuckle, quickly turning back to look for the ingredients you were searching for.

“its alright. im often complimented for my beauty on our travels.” he laughs, playfully flicking a lock of air behind his shoulder.

“i didn't take you for the vain one, alucard.”

“you may call me adrien, if you'd like. and I'm not really. i get most of my attributes from my mother. its…comforting, to know i look like her.” his tone of voice brings your eyes back to him, seeing the mix of fondness and grief in his eyes at the mention of is mother. you remember faintly hearing that the demons you'd encountered were brought about by draculas rage at his loss, and you couldn't fathom how he managed to process the murder of his mother, the mental collapse of his father and then having to take his life.

not knowing how else to comfort him, you decide to relate to his struggles. “when I escaped here I managed to save a few things of my parents, like my mothers’ jewelry box. it hurts a bit to look at it but it's nice knowing I have something of hers to keep with me.”

alucard watches you as you speak, smiling when our eyes meet his, saying a little “thank you.” under his breath.

trevor laughs, biting into a snack you had offered to them earlier. “another addition to the club of mommy issues. god, help us all.”

the rest of the night is spent discussing and starting alucard’s plan and getting to know more about your new friends. despite the fear of what will happen the next day, you find yourself enjoying their company more than you thought you would.

.

.

.

“ah! our saviors have returned! with good news i hope?” the bartender addresses the returning trio, the other members of the bar turning to look at them in awe and hope.

“your little problem has been taken care of. you and the people of your town will no longer have to worry about what lurks in the woods.” sypha tells, projecting her voice to alert everyone inside the room.

the room quickly erupts into cheers and shouts, the patrons of the bar rejoicing with the news that they are a little bit safer. if they had still been in the dark the three would have found comfort knowing they had helped to bring safety to more people, but after becoming aware that they are happy at the death of a woman, it leaves a bitter taste in their mouths.

“thank you, thank you! we are forever in your debt.” an older man says, his attire leading them to recognize him as the leader of the village.

“trust us, it was no problem.” trevor assures. “although, how about a round of drinks? monster hunting leaves a man thirsty, after all.”

“why stop at a drink? we will throw you a feast! you have saved our people a great deal, you deserve nothing less.”

the three share a secret look.

“that sounds wonderful.”

.

.

.

the feast is spectacular. there is a great amount of food, enough to share with everyone in the village to syphas insistence. before the drinks are served, alucard excuses himself. he returns when trevor and sypha are in a seemingly pleasant conversation with the village head. halfway through the dinner, they notice how the townspeople seem a bit lighter like a weight has been lifted off their shoulders.

once the feast is over trevor heads to the edge of the woods near the front of the town, where you wait patiently while fiddling your hands together. you have faith in alucard but if this works, if the people recognize you…

“dont worry. it anything goes wrong we’ll protect you.” trevor notices your worry and reassures you, placing a large hand on your shoulder while he guides you into the village center.

you both stop as a woman with her child does the same in front of you. you can feel the magic inside of you gearing up in the face of potential danger.

“why hell, dear. we haven't seen you in town before. are you a visitor as well?”

you let out a concealed long breath.

“yes. yes, i am.”

.

.

.

“it seems like the townspeople are rather welcoming to you. i hope this will help bring you a sense of security, y/n.” sypha hugs you close to her in front of her and her partner's wagon. after making sure the potion had been taken and the now forgetful townspeople had been alright with your presence, it was time for them to head on to their next journey.

“you have no idea what you three have done for me today, i have no idea how to repay you,” you tell them.

“well you could always come along with us and earn your keep, i suppose.” trevor jokes, shrugging his shoulders as adrien and sypha roll their eyes at him. “what? you two were thinking it as well!”

“i do agree it would be enjoyable to have you on our travels. you'd make a powerful ally to us as we continue to clean up wallachia of night creatures.” adrien agrees.

sypha nods. “and what if the potion wears off? or more people bother you because of your abilities? maybe it would be better for you to come with us. for extra protection, of course.”

you nod your head along, pretending to take in their arguments like you hadn't already made up your mind when they had risked so much to help you. you had a feeling your life was going to become a lot more exciting traveling with the heroes of wallachia.

.

.

.

[sepublic]

Yes yes Drolta sexy dommy mommy but like can we talk about the implications of her backstory and dynamic with Erzsebet??? She's a black woman but she's happily deferring to this white woman. She was an Egyptian priestess and we have her white lady appropriating a major deity from her religion, and instead of having the most reason and background to know what a bastardization this is, Drolta just continues to unironically love Erzsebet... What's up with that??? Did Drolta's background as a priest translate to Erzsebet accessing Sekhmet's blood? Or did she choose to worship Erzsebet because she had Sekhmet's blood?

And like yeah we can play with the idea of Olrox and Drolta as besties but can we also talk about their duality and how they're both dark-skinned PoC vampires and yet one of them is distinctly aware of this fact while the other doesn't really seem to care? You'd think Drolta would be more equipped than anyone else to know what's going on in Olrox's mind and anticipate his resentment-turned-rebellion, but she doesn't seem all that prepared? Or at least just kinda impatiently brushes it off like eventually he's gonna learn his place like she did.

Drolta is obviously socially keen enough to figure out Emmanuel's fatherly connection to Maria from just a glance, and yet she seems oblivious to how Olrox’s background clearly fuels his skepticism towards this “new world” talk she speaks of; These are NOT the words to convince Olrox, the very opposite, but Drolta is far too confident in using them as an appeal.

Hell what does Annette think, as someone who was a black slave to Vaublanc? Vaublanc was kneeling to Drolta as she inducted him into the cult of Erzsebet. She has to realize what a lot of these white nobles around her are like, how they feel about PoC. Does Drolta just happily see herself as the exception, does she think she's 'above' race because she's ascended to vampirism and is beside a goddess? And/or is Erzsebet's status as a white woman revoked because she ascended to vampire and then ascended a second time to goddess?

What questions would Annette ask, as a black woman who is also very spiritual, who has a mentor in Cecile? Annette also has a connection to the gods of her own heritage, whom she respects. She's going to them to undo the establishment. Meanwhile Drolta is letting her own god be bastardized. Does she think that survival can only come around if people make their cultures and magic adapt to the new status quo and find their place in it, regardless of what might be lost in the transition? There's a lot to say about Drolta and Annette fighting each other beneath the abbey.

Did Erzsebet turn Drolta, like she did Tera? Is the control a vampire has over its thrall inform a good portion of their dynamic? Please tell me we're gonna get backstory for these two regarding the blood of Sekhmet that explains what's going on in Drolta's head. Does she consider these implications, what does she think about them, how would she have reacted if someone like Olrox or Annette brought them up? Maybe Drolta accepts her place by Bathory's side because there's always a hierarchy in her mind, and all she can do is focus on saving herself a place above all of the rich white people, even if that means leaving behind her fellow PoC, because she's that kind of person who seeks empowerment for herself alone but not for the rest of her demographic, maybe seeing it as 'unrealistic' and her own position as a miracle that barely worked out.

Ngl I hope that one day Bloodlines gets adapted, and Drolta is brought back alongside Erzsebet as the main antagonists. I think there's a lot of room to explore Drolta's devotion to Erzsebet lasting until even now, and maybe develop their relationship. In game canon, Drolta is the one driving a lot of the events, being the one to resurrect Erzsebet, siccing the Mecha Knight on our protagonists, etc. And Dracula's second phase may or may not be intended to represent Drolta herself, which would otherwise explain her absence as a boss fight despite her role in the lore; And that places Drolta after Erzsebet in terms of gameplay.

I'm just saying!!! I'd love to see Drolta have a Fawful epiphany where she realizes that Erzsebet really is dependent on her contributions, and Drolta is the one who actually makes things work, she's the true driving force and mastermind; Erzsebet would be nothing without her, but can the same be said for the other way around? Maybe Drolta just assumed she needed Erzsebet but then she realizes she does all this and Erzsebet still has to depend on her. Maybe she IS aware of how much she outclasses Erzsebet, but Drolta finds it more convenient and safe to let Erzsebet take the spotlight as a figurehead, while she operates safely in the shadows.

[vickyvicarious]

ooooh, I love Patrick Hennessey's voice!

Renfield getting possessive over Dracula... or possibly just recognizing that the boxes being taken away means Dracula might leave too, and he wants to prevent that.

kfjsldf Renfield is so good at managing the staff here. politely gaslighting them to believe he's oblivious to his own actions then escaping

OHkay the dull thuds were quite awful when he's slamming the guy's head into the ground

"you know I'm no lightweight" between this and Seward knocking Renfield off with one punch I now find myself imagining them like. wrestling each other for fun or something at least once. (jack would have gotten very bisexual about it and then refused to look dr. hennessey in the face for days probably)

"'I'll frustrate them! They shan't rob me! they shan't murder me by inches! I'll fight for my Lord and Master!'" I love how rough his voice sounds here, so different from usual. Also the murder me by inches is such a vivid and bleak way to describe being deprived of the chance at supernatural life.

sorry for your finger, Hardy

YES, the first of the very thirsty men who are suddenly more relaxed when given a drink. it's so funny

but really, Hennessey managed that very well. his quick smoothing over and attention to detail could be really helpful if anyone decided to sue them or something over this.

the phonograph noises at the beginning of Jack's entry at first made me think they were at the end of Hennessey's report, and it would be very funny if Jack insisted on getting his report in phonograph form. That, or Hennessey just wanted to take the chance to see what all the fuss was about.

...and then Jack started speaking and all amusement was lost. God, he's wrecked.

the stop and scoff before "too miserable" GODDDD

"the flapping of the wings of the angel of death" yeah he's been flapping a lot the bastard

but really, the way Jack lists them off, so bitterly, damn it's horrible

is he drinking? or trying to keep from crying? I mean he's definitely doing that either way but

the shake on "we must not all break down"

van Helsing speaking SO GENTLY to Arthur, auuugh

"You shall lie on one, and I on the other, and our sympathy will be comfort to each other, even though we do not speak, and even if we sleep." this is so sweet, I can't believe I'd forgotten about it

"in this room, as in the other," of course, it makes sense not to keep Lucy in her own bedroom, where the windows are shattered and where her mother died... but I wonder where she is. Did I miss a line about it somewhere? A part of me imagines Mrs. Westenra's room, which would mean they both die in one another's beds. :(

NOT THE TEETH

"Her teeth, in the dim, uncertain light, seemed longer... and sharper than they had been in the morning. In particular - by some trick of the light, the canine teeth looked... longer... and sharper than the rest." he repeats 'longer and sharper' twice, and especially the second time sounds so... nearly fascinated. It reminds me of Jonathan describing Dracula.

"there came a sort of dull flapping or buffeting at the window" there he is, the flappy asshole. angel of death himself.

"It struck me as curious that the moment she became conscious she pressed the garlic flowers close to her. It was certainly odd that whenever she got into that lethargic state, with the stertorous breathing, she put the flowers from her; but that when she waked she clutched them close." SHE'S TRYING. GOD I WANNA CRY

van Helsing's fear and despair is so well conveyed. and when he spends several minutes staring at her and then sounds so calm - he is determined.

"I went to the dining-room and waked him." the way Jack says this line is just. brutal.

I CAN'T LISTEN TO ART BREAK DOWN THIS IS GONNA DESTROY ME

the saddest "my dear old fellow" in the world

brushing Lucy's hair... I love that this makes Jack cry, because it makes me cry too.

ffffuck her shaky greeting to Arthur.

so I was talking a little bit ago about how Jack seems to distance himself unconsciously and start referring to Lucy as a thing whenever she is in more vampiric mode, and I love to hear it reflected in his voice here too. He goes from being so choked up with emotion to sounding almost cold as he says "the mouth opened,"

and he sounds so disturbed when he calls her eyes "dull" and her voice "voluptuous"

oh no oh no that "oh my love " is SO DAMN SINISTER art don't do it don't do it. like damn, I can't even make a joke about van helsing playing chaperone I'm just thankful that he's there!

it's not like being a vampire is transferrable through saliva or anything anyway but. she sounded so scary there.

Jack's delivery about van Helsing pulling Arthur back from the kiss was so funny. He sounds so incredulous: "dragged him back with a fury of strength which I never thought he could have possessed," van Helsing may joke about him being bitchless but Jack was here thinking he was a frail old man so who's laughing now. (van Helsing. definitely still van Helsing.)

van Helsing's panting!

art, bless him, choosing not to get into a fight over his fiance's deathbed. (the way Jack's voice gets rough on "and the occasion" uggggh)

god, Lucy's voice makes me so sad. that final "and give me peace"......

"Their eyes met instead of their lips; and so they parted." THIS LINE.

nooooooo don't make me listen to Art cry fuck it's breaking me

the music while Jack is talking about there being peace for Lucy is so ominous!!! also I love the way he is so clearly trying so hard to stay composed and say something nice and look on the bright side if only a little... and then van Helsing has to be mysterious and ominous and ruin that for him too

van Helsing Barbie strikes again

"only some letters and a few memoranda, and a diary new begun." those last few words are so sad. She never got to do more than just begin her diary. She never got to even begin her new life before it was taken away from her.

"we both started at the beauty before us," Beautiful Corpse Jumpscare

"He had not loved her as I had, and there was no need for tears in his eyes." I get how you feel but that's pretty dang rude, Jack. He's told you that he loves her and wanted to save her. He already cried for her once.

kjdsfljksdf THE DELIVERY of "I want to cut off her head and take out her heart." and. no DUH he's shocked, vH! don't go acting like this is typical surgeon behavior/reaction. omg.

and then that sigh and 'kind' concession that 'all you have to do is help me cut off her head that's all'

I fucking love the delivery of "no good to her, to us, to science, to human knowledge"

"I may err—I am but man; but I believe in all I do." the way his voice almost wavers on the word 'believe'. Not out of doubt, but emotion.

"and she kiss my rough old hand and bless me?" the way he says this line... he was so affected by her trust in him and her final request. he feels honored and burdened both.

Jack being so emotional about the maid grieving for Lucy... and me sitting there knowing that she's in there to steal from Lucy. (or at least, she does even if it's not why she went in)

mr. marquand! you are a decent guy, thank you for trying to look out for Lucy's interests. anyone who tries to give her agency is good in my book. even if your rejoicing is in. rather poor taste. (Jack's laugh at that is great!)

Art bringing Jack in with him is so sweet, god, god, his crying.... THE WAY HE SAYS JACK'S NAME. THE WAY HE SAYS THERE'S NOTHING TO LIVE FOR

Jack's line about men only needing "a grip of the hand, the tightening of an arm over the shoulder, a sob in unison," was already ridiculous but the way says it like he's trying so hard to convince himself

I hit the bulletpoint character limit. Wow.

Anyways the delivery is so stiff-upper-lip-this-is-fine, it's great. especially as the further into the line he gets the more you can hear him trying not to sob as well.

THE SADDEST SMOOCH NOISES

the way Art reacts to being called 'Lord'. ""No, no, not that, for God's sake! not yet at any rate." he sounds so desperate, the POOR MAN

and the way he is taking deep breaths while talking to van Helsing. He is working so fucking hard to be kind and try and make things easier and get through this without lashing out at anyone. I love him so much.

and van Helsing immediately follows up with "I stole your dead girlfriend's letters, can I keep them?" I KNOW he feels bad about it and he feels it is necessary and everything but. damn okay.

NOT A LULLABY NOOOOOOOOOO

GOD THAT'S SO SAD. DO NOT COME INTO THE NIGHT DO NOT GO TO SLEEP MY DEAR :( :( oh how dare you with that line about eternal life/shine so bright" AND TAKE MY BITE NOOOOOOO

[ragequeen94]

An absolute insane stream of consciousness about ghost and everything else...

Been thinking about the title "Emeritus"....

It has meaning:

- a person retired from professional life but permitted to retain as an honorary title the rank of the last office held.

....Now I'm assuming the ministry works how the actual catholic church works and the choose a name. Like when your picked to be pope you pick a biblical name instead of your real name....

Their real names being... primo, secondo, etc.... and in assuming those are first names unless Nihil was able to find women with numerical last names IN ORDER all willing to having his satanic church bastards. Which for him seems possible but I digress.

It just seems like an interesting choice of title. (Especially for a wild little sweed) and what he was trying to say... perhaps just that they are "past their prime"? They have the title only because they are old?

Also thinking about the usage of "bloodline"... now we all think it's because of Nihil and his breeding fetish. Which may be true. But I'd like to bring up the secondo Papaganda where the "special ghoul" is talking about Secondo and the bloodline...

We can pretend that in this universe, those characters are... real? Easy. Or perhaps they are all "choosen" perhaps the bloodline actually being more children chosen by darkness? Or the devil? Now the three confirmed brothers and now also Copia are all Nihil children, we are about to get Papa V... and is realistic to believe it's Copias twin (also because his name is literally copy in italian) but a copy of who? The only other character could be .... Father Jim??

I'm 100% sure that his name was picked for this reason... but is he being dethroned? Is he dethroning?? We don't know much besides that he's kind of a shit priest and uses cum as hair gell....

And that all other Papas have been dethroned as well for also not being good at their jobs. Interesting. Maybe a comment on hypocrisy with the satanic church having higher standards for leadership??

Also Copia is Imperator now...

Which literally means commander. But commander only lead armies... they aren't kings or emperors and even Sister Imperator was answering the phone to someone she was respectful and obedient too. (See that one chapter when nihil was on the toilet)... I'm pretty sure it wasn't Psaltarian.... but what does that name mean??

My best guess is either someone who documents OR

Which is basically a kinda early guitar.... so hes... the band manager??

I don't think he's running the church. So there are way more characters and story to uncover.

What I can say I at this point... we know absolutely nothing and nothing makes sense.

Fuckin... since we know copia is Imperator and Nihils kid and he's the youngest... and Secondo and Terzo are 3 months apart and can't have the same mother.... Nihil had had 3 children with a minimum of 2 other women already by the time he met Imperator.

And let's pretend everything we see in the MV and the chapters is canon legit. Nihil was a little unsure of what was going on at the party... but that doesn't mean he wasn't already part of the church. We know that Ghost is just the public relations section of the ministry. Not THE MINISTRY... they are important but one one piece. They are the face or figure head. Which is pretty much said word for word. PAPA STILL ANSWERS TO A HIGHER POWER. Who or what we don't know.

Nihil and his father (and his fathers father, his father... his father... hid father's father's father... his father) are all part of the bloodline. All this means is that they are related or choosen by... the devil? That Dracula and the Canadian guy who wrote "Hallelujah" are related??

Or that all of these characters/people are entertainers.

Is the ministry just a record label? Each papa a musician trying to make it?? It's all a metaphor for stardom?? Probably.

Basically papa nihil could have easily been part of the church before he met Imperator. She just got him involved in the ghost project (her project by the sound of it). Then when it fell through got nihils kids involved... cause... why. We don't know.

We have Nihil who is... nothing.

Psaltarian that... writer? Manager?

Imperator the commander.

Defroque the cum guzzling priest.

And the Papas who are all already passed their prime?? but they picked the name.

But nihil wasn't an Emeritus.

Unless nihil was the name he picked and we don't even know his name... and he named his kidd first second and third cause he thought it was funny.

Also it's 100% that Imperator named Copia.

Is he a copy of his twin (or just a copy in general) or is he a copy of his father? Or of her????

Please dear fucking unholy shit can someone hyperfixate with me....

[tyrantisterror]

You Don't Remember Muncher

Sony, as a film-making company, has reeked of desperation for at least a decade at this point. They have IPs that they know SHOULD be making them more money but they just. Can't. Get them to. And sometimes this results in them taking some big creative swings, to be completely fair - I love the Spider-Verse movies, and you don't get movies that expensive and conceptually heavy with a studio executive who's playing it safe. And I think the fact that they keep taking these big swings even when some of them end up duds like Sausage Party is commendable.

But I do think one of their big problems is this inability to understand that 1. films are a form of art and 2. what art is. They're good enough to understand that artists know what art is, which is more than a lot of studio leadership can say, and those big creative swings they take come from trusting artists to do their art thing. And even their misfires tend to have laudable stuff - Sausage Party may be an SNL gag that someone decided to stuff full of the most dated racism and bigoted jokes imaginable to get up to movie feature runtime, but the animation in it is oddly beautiful, even when depicting things that are repulsive. Like a protestant on the way to Dracula's castle, the heads at Sony seem to treat their artists with respect despite not understanding why they gave them a rosary and other primitive superstitious charms to protect them from vampires.

But when they have to make choices themselves, hoo boy, those poor bastards. They don't know what they're doing.

So Ghostbusters is one of those valuable IPs Sony is desperate to monetize, right? They just know they can have a huge hit on their hands with Ghostbusters. It was popular in the 80's, and things that were popular in the 80's are HUGE now! Look at that Stranger Things, baby!

Now, the heads at Sony may not be able to understand art, but they try. They are at the very least good at picking apart a piece of art and sussing out what ingredients made it, like Claire Saffitz trying to recreate an oreo. For their 2016 reboot, they correctly deduced that the original Ghostbusters was 1. a comedy 2. starring at least two actors from SNL and using their star power for promotion and 3. was liked by nerds because the heroes are out-of-shape nerds rather than chiseled Rambo/Arnie types. Also it has ghosts in it, probably.

Now, the problem is, the SNL actor-led comedy was taken out into a dark alley and slowly beaten to death by Adam Sandler and his cadre of goblin men starting somewhere around the time Little Nicky was made. It gave way to the era of cringe comedies like The Hangover and Judd Apatow bromances, which were led less by SNL stars and more by actors and actresses who'd gotten their start on NBC thursday night sitcoms - a minor difference, perhaps, but notable I think. And, like, even then, by 2016, that era was also pretty much over. The cringe comedy was a dying genre. Comedy itself, at least pure comedies, was kind of losing its place in film, being supplanted by action movies with more quips than they used to have. We were three years deep into THE WHEDONING.

But being three years behind the curve has never been a problem Sony worried about. I mean, historically it should be, but they never do. So Sony tried to assemble the best Ghostbusters they could make from the ingredients they could suss out, using the closest equivalents they could make. Grab some of the actresses from Bridesmaids, and an SNL star or two if you can. Kristen Wiig and Melissa McCarthy have a pretty good banter going on ala Bill Murray and Dan Akroyd, really put them front and center. Oh, and we sussed out another ingredient! The original Ghostbusters had Sigourney Weaver as a love interest, and she was the star of Alien, which our Sony genre determining bot claims is an action movie, so let's get a hot action star as a love interest. Chris Hemsworth! Oh, we can make him be a silly goober like we did with John Hamm in Bridesmaids! People love handsome guys being silly goobers! (in this, Sony is correct)

The result was... fine, I think, if missing a few crucial ingredients. You know the ghosts in Ghostbusters? First syllable of the title? Most of the ones in the 2016 movie are just, you know, transparent humans, maybe a bit bluer than normal, making maniacal faces. Whereas in the original:

Well, they got some fucked up freaks in the original.

A lot of fans didn't like the 2016 movie, some for stupid sexism reasons, some for "I don't see why you need to remake Ghostbusters at all really" reasons, and some for, like, just personal taste reasons. It did not provide the big box office hit Sony wanted. Their first attempt to recreate the oreo was a failure.

So they go back to the drawing board, listening to the loudest, angriest criticism and looking to what's working outside of their influence for answers. Fans thought the 2016 movie was too different, not reverent towards the original as the perfect golden calf of Bill Murray comedies that it is. So this new reboot would be oozing with reverence. Fans didn't like the cast of ladies, so, yes, got it, scrap the lady-led ghostbusters.

Star Wars Fans loved that J.J. Abrams Star Wars reboot, The Force Awakens, for being a sequel rather than a full reboot, but also for just telling the same story they already love but slightly different. And nerds in general still fucking love that Stranger Things show - they even had an episode where the Stranger Things kids wore ghostbusters costumes! Hey, there's a million dollar idea, Stranger Things kids... as ghostbusters...

Now, the one thing they can't take from The Force Awakens is copying the tone of their original movie, because they tried copying the irreverent tone of the original Ghostbusters and fans did not like it. They need to be reverent to the original, because that's what The Force Awakens, even if showing reverence at all is antithetical to the tone of the original movie itself (which it is, because Ghostbusters is an irreverent Bill Murray comedy, like that's its whole schtick). But if they can drape this new-found reverence in 80's nostalgia, maybe, just maybe, nostalgic fans will be too dumb to notice.

And hey, they love that Stranger Things, which is a big homage to The Goonies and E.T. and Steven Spielberg-esque stories about pubescent kids going on perilous adventures where they face bad guys and learn life lessons in the process, reverent but dated in the same time period as Ghostbusters. And what an idea... Stranger Things kids... as ghostbusters...

This was admittedly a lot of preamble to get to the actual topic: Muncher. See, in that Force Awakens style, they needed to not only bring old characters from Ghostbusters back, but also make new characters who are really just the old characters but slightly different. For example, The Force Awakens brings us BB-8, who's basically just R2-D2, but visually different enough to feel new, and maybe a little cuter. Instead of moving on treads, he moves on this big ball, which is more complicated from a puppetry aspect and thus looks a lot more impressive and just a bit more "modern" while still basically being R2-D2 again.

Such was the genesis of Muncher.

Slimer (originally called Onionhead by the production staff and John Belushi's Ghost by Bill Murray) wasn't intended to be the franchise mascot, in part because Ghostbusters was never meant to be a franchise. He was a one off ghost who's iconic design and role as the first ghost to be busted made him a fan favorite, and eventually became, like, the ghostbusters' dog in the cartoon series. We love that for him, but the fact remains that Slimer's success was accidental.

Muncher, by contrast, was an attempt to recreate Slimer. But different! He's a gross gluttonous monster, because that's what Slimer is, but there's a lot less focus on wet goo when he eats and more solid chunks. See, it's different? And you know what's popular now thanks to, like, a cracked article or something? Tardigrades! They're these cool little microscopic things that everyone's making into monster designs now, they're even on a Star Trek! Why, if we made Slimer 2 - err, that is, Muncher have some tardigrade elements, he'd look weird and, like, modern - but not too modern! Like Slimer, but different!

Before Ghostbusters: Afterlife came out, there was a LOT of Muncher merchandise. A lot. Which makes sense, Slimer had so much goddamn merch in the heyday of the original Ghostbusters. There was fucking Slimer toothpaste. Toothpaste! From Slimer's teats!

It looked identical to Slimer bubblegum.

But, for whatever reason, Muncher did not connect like Slimer did, and so Sony did a last minute trend-chasing pivot and tried to focus on the new hotness: cute baby versions of characters who were old and not cute in the original movie.

I don't know if this scene was planned to be in the movie before The Mandalorian was a big success, or if it was a hasty addition to it, but it doesn't matter, because what does matter is the late marketing shift to focus on these little fuckers, and giving them lots of toys. They're already in the marketing for the sequel, where Muncher is nowhere to be found.

Because you don't remember Muncher, do you?

Muncher didn't connect. They took a swing with Muncher and they fucking whiffed. They made a shitload of Muncher toys and all those little blue fuckers ended up clearanced to Hell. Muncher is a failure, a loser.

You don't remember Muncher.

And you never will.

[c-schroed]

Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992) Or Why The Probably Most Accurate Movie Adaptation Of Dracula Still Is Not Accurate Enough

I mentioned some time ago - while salivating over the marvellous razor scene of Francis Ford Coppola's Dracula adaptation - that there is quite some stuff to unpack here. And now I found some time to unpack. So let's begin. I'll start with the good stuff, firstly the good stuff that's not in the book (i.e., the Flourishes), than the good stuff that's true to the book (the Well-Conserved). Thirdly, I'll make note of things that were, unnervingly, changed (by which I mean They Came Back Wrong), and then I'll deal with what is unfortunately left out from the book (the Missing). And finally, finally I'll rant over that two bad things that never were in the book in the first place (a section I'll call JUST WHY?).

So. A tragedy in five acts. Here we go.

Act I - The Flourishes

The razor scene. I think I dealt with this enough by now. It's perfection and I'll die on that hill.

The music. Obviously, Bram Stoker's gothic lil masterpiece is lacking some gorgeous score. But mourn no longer, because Wojciech Kilar cooked up some dashing, pushing tune for us, fitting perfectly to this dark tale of spreading darkness and deepening madness.

Some basic knowledge about blood groups. Yeah, Stoker can't be blamed for this, but still. It's a nice addition to remind us that we do indeed live in a world where blood groups exist.

The Westenra Estate. As much as I pity that the lovely town of Whitby did not make it into the movie, I do love Lucy Westenra's house. Because I'm a sucker for hedge mazes. Simple as that.

Those glasses. Those. Fucking. Nice. Glasses.

Act II - The Well-Conserved

The plot in general. Yes, there are a lot of maddening differences, as we will see soon. But still, this movie at least makes the impression that most of the people working on it had indeed read the darn novel. Which is something that I can't say about many other Dracula adaptations I have seen.

The costumes, the sets, the atmosphere. Well done, everyone!

The Actors. The good thing about being not native in a language is that one is not very prone to dialects that seem off. And as I happen to not be a native speaker of English, I have little problems with Keanu Reeves and Winona Ryder adding some US touch to what should be very, very, v e r y British characters. I even find Reeves perfectly fitting for the oh so darn young Jonathan Harker. And the rest of the cast is marvellous, too (with the exception of Winona Ryder, see below for details). Especially Tom Waits, who is hard-wired to the name of Renfield in my brain ever since I first saw this movie. And Gary Oldman as Dracula… Well. I think I already made clear what opinion I have about that sexy bastard.

Some lucky few of lovely quotes made it over to the film. Dracula's welcome. The Fowl Bauble of Human Vanity, of course. And Qunincey almost making me faint when saying "Little girl" when I least expected it.

Act III - They Came Back Wrong

The dates. Goshdarnit, the dates! It's an epistolary novel, so why make the effort of making up completely new dates for events that already had a precise date in the novel? I just don't get it. And it unnerves me. Every. Fucking. Time.

Time in general. Watching the movie after Dracula Daily makes it feel so very, very hasty. Jonathan travels to Castle Dracula like it's no thing at all. And the first few days in Castle Dracula are condensed into one weird evening.

Dracula meeting Mina before Jonathan is back. I really, really loved the book for avoiding the most terrible tropes. And then comes this movie, and struts right into this terrible pitfall.

Mina. I'm sorry, usually I love the work of Winona Ryder, but here she was way too bland. Maybe it was because her character had quite a revamp (ha. ha.) and no one cared to tell her what new approach she should take. But whatever reason, the clever, adorable train fiend of the original did not deserve this!

Act IV - The Missing

The Voyage of the Demeter is way too short. Where is "But I am captain, and I must not leave my ship"? Where is the poor sea captain tying himself to the wheel? And where is his funeral? Oh, I really missed all that. And, I mean, I don't mind hearing Anthony Hopkins read the lines, but would it have been such an expense to at least hire an additional actor to voice the correspondent or the sea captain?

Jonathan Holding Mina By the Arm. That's really not an objectively big issue. That's just me who fell in love with JonMina after reading this chapter. And almost no one does it properly. They deserve justice!

(Thanks a ton to @smieska for capturing my mood just perfectly!)

Act V - JUST WHY?

Elisabeta. Don't get me wrong here: All of the oh so tragic Drac backstory they invented for this movie is terribly unnecessary. But in this sea of uselessness, the tragically deceased wife of Vlad Țepeș that just so happens to perfectly resemble Mina Murray is an audience-insulting island of unoriginality. I mean, yeah, I guess someone wanted to add some romance to the story of Vlad the Fucking Impaler. Because, well, nineties or so. But Mina, of all women? Why not invent some new character that can be bothered with such stuff? Why ruin an all-nice JonMina ship? I don't get the whole new backstory, and I especially don't get this aspect.

Dracula raping Lucy in his shitty werewolf form. Everything about this is wrong. And it has no relevance for the plot. Just. Blergh.

Epilogue

It's cruel to watch Francis Ford Coppola's take on Dracula right after finishing @re-dracula. I know that now. Everything is still too fresh. It's a good movie, after all, but especially because it's quite good it is frustrating to be so terribly aware of all its shortcomings. In a few weeks or so, I would recommend it, again, I guess. As long as it's still Dracula Off-Season. 7 out of 10 points.

[fayoftheforest]

vampire kyle & historic antisemitism

DISCLAIMER: this post is not intended to incite drama or discourse, I simply want to share my thoughts on a complex topic. Just because I’m Jewish does not mean I speak for the entire community. We’re not a monolith, there is great diversity of opinion among us, discussion and debate is a beloved part of our culture, etc etc :) ok on with the post!

But wait, Fay, I hear you interject. Vampires aren’t even real! How can they be sayin’ stuff about Jews? Well, my dear friends, I have some rather grave news for you: much of pop culture is Sayin’ Stuff About The Jews. And very little of it is positive :/

I’ll quote Jewish author Deke Moulton to establish the basic links between vampires and antisemitism:

The problem is tied to the conspiracy called the blood libel. If you’re not familiar with it, the blood libel started in Medieval Europe in the 12th century and claimed that Jewish people needed the blood of Christian children to make our Passover matzoh. For context, Jewish people are prohibited from consuming blood at all – we will salt kosher meat to draw out blood. Despite being very old and very wrong, the blood libel idea still persists today (albeit usually with slightly less obvious framing).

There is also a common trope of vampires operating through a secret, worldwide council that often governs ‘vampire affairs’ but also may dabble in controlling other aspects of the world’s governments. While some people can see a similarity to the Catholic Church, often times this calls upon the antisemitic trope of the ‘cabal’—that Jews secretly run the entire world (which is another strange antisemitic trope, as Judaism doesn’t have any central religious figure like the Pope). The word ‘cabal’ itself is a bastardization of the word kabbalah, a form of Jewish mysticism. If you combine this with a trope of vampires hoarding large amounts of money (especially gold?), you’re using yet another antisemitic trope that says Jewish people control the world’s banks.

Even things like being adverse to the sunlight can have antisemitic implications – the early Church claimed that, because in Judaism days start at sundown and thus our time of worship happens at night, that gathering at night to worship was proof of us being evil and satanic.

So, all vampires are bad and wrong, and vampire Kyle AUs are a hatecrime, and everyone who’s ever done one should go straight to jail, right?

Well. No.

Because really, it should be noted that this extract is from an interview on Moulton’s novel “Don’t Want To Be Your Monster,” a book which not only features blood-sucking vampires, but a blood-sucking Jewish vampire. Interesting, interesting... it's almost as if this topic is nuanced or something 🤔

Many iconic vampires are based on antisemitic stereotypes. Perhaps most famous is Dracula, with curly hair and a hooked nose, is an Eastern European immigrant who has the intentions of “infecting” British society. Another example is Nosferatu, who also has an exaggerated hooked nose, is thin, pale and hunched, and is topped by a skull cap. There are modern exceptions to this trend, though! Twilight comes to mind. Edward Cullen is far more inspired by Stephanie Meyer’s Mormonism than Judaism as a whole. Explained so aptly by The Quietus, “As vampiric portrayals become more positive, they tend to also become less connected to Jewish representation.” Come on, you guys >:( Jewishness can be hot and sexy too, I swear!!

From what I’ve seen of Vamp!Kyle AUs, portrayals tend to lean more towards the mysterious and alluring Cullen-type than the bad-to-the-bone Dracula. Ultimately, I think this is what redeems our fandom’s vampire Kyle. Because crucially, whilst vampires can be antisemitic, they are not innately antisemitic. When you show Kyle brooding behind his high-collars and flashing toothy grins at his love interest, it’s not typically symbolic of the ultimate evil that we are expected to fear and ridicule. It's intended to be cute, or cool, or hot, or whatever.

My advice is thus: if you want to make something deeper or complex with the AU, just have a think about what you’re using his vampiric traits to represent. Are you drawing from unfortunate stereotypes or feeding into antisemitic fears? Are you validating or justifying the “othering” or ostracisation of Jewish people from wider society? You could consider finding a Jewish beta/sensitivity reader, if that’s accessible to you. But generally speaking, so long as you’re not presenting Kyle as an all-powerful predator to pure, innocent Christian society, I reckon you’re probably alright :)

[paarthurnax59]

Little Sparrow: Chapter 6

  WARNINGS: Some swearing, brief description of childhood trauma 

Dark. Dark and cold, which is how Dracula, the lord of the undead, preferred it. The demonic prince looked out from the now abandoned Castle that once belonged to Doctor Viktor Frankenstein, who died centuries ago. Killed by a mob for robbing graves of the dead. Rumor has it among the locals, that the Doctor himself had conducted unholy experiments, making him unwelcomed in normal society.

   The people of the Transylvanian were led to believe the Castle was now haunted by the ghosts of the past. Strange events occurred when people tried to enter the castle. People disappearing as soon as they enter the castle, never to come out again. Which was the reason no human has set foot in that castle in decades. Made it the perfect place for an outpost for Dracula and his brides for the outside world. The immortal vampire prince walked around his quarters, waiting patiently for the news from his informants about the spear. It had been over a week that he sent the letter to the Order and still no word from that old bastard about the ransom. The spear for his best hunter’s freedom. While Dracula looked out the widow, he heard the door pounding. 

“Master! A letter has arrived for you!” said a raspy voice coming from the side of the thick wooden door. Dracula grinned has he looked to the door.

“Enter, Igor!” He demanded, causing the doors to burst open, revealing a short, ugly monster walked in. He sported on tattered old, tattered clothing and matted, light-blonde hair at shoulder length. On his hands he wore fingerless gloves with chipped fingernails. In his hands, was a parchment envelope with red seal in the back that held it together. The creature Igor raised his hand with the letter and handed it to his undead master. Dracula took it and opened the envelope. He scanned through the letter, reading every word as the grin on his face grew. “So, the old man had sent someone to bring the spear to me. It was about time they made the right decision. Who is it that we are expecting?” He asked looking at his hideous servant. Igor held out what looked like a photograph. Dracula took it and examined the picture. It was of a young woman with beautiful, (H/C) hair, (Skin color) and (E/c) eyes. She was gorgeous, which made the vampire smirk with glee. “So, Jinette sent this little bird to deliver the spear to me? The Order should have known that I have a weakness for fragile, little things like her. May I ask who this lovely little dove might be?” 

“Her name is (Full name). She is the ward of Cardinal Jinette Moretti, and a huntress. Our associate says that she had been gone for some time and had been living in America.” He answered making his master laugh.

“Her? A hunter? bah!! Look at her! She is far too delicate looking to be hunting such monstrous creatures. Things like her would be eaten alive. The old man must have a death wish for her.” He licked his lips as he placed the picture aside onto a table next to him. he gazed at the picture of the girl. “I trust that our informant has given us her estimated arrival?” He inquired the short hideous little man.

“Yes, they wrote that she is to arrive from Rome in a day. The letter also told us of where she will be staying at the oldest inn in the village. The Morning Dove Inn.” He answered his master.

 “Good…and how…is our guest behaving?” the lord of death asked the grotesque man who had snarl to his sneer. 

“He had finally quieted down. Fought the dwergi for a bit, but we managed to put him to sleep after giving him a good shock.” He grinned maliciously when he saw the pleased smile on his master’s face. Igor had always been a sadistic individual. He was often rejected as a child due his fascination for experimenting on dead corpses of animals. He would even torment innocent animals, just to see what happens went they were at their most vulnerable. Birds were often his favorite to torture, manly he watched to see what happened when he would cut off their wings.

   Over time, he started targeting other children and had been sent to an asylum. Everyone, even his own family felt he was too much of a danger to others. His father said to him that he no longer had a son. Years later, he escaped and hunted down his parents. He slaughtered them as they slept. He never returned to his childhood home again. More time passed and Igor found Dracula, or Dracula found him. He started to work for him and his brides, been working for him ever since. One of his main duties is to torture any prisoners that get unruly. If the payment from the vampire prince wasn’t enough, then the pleasure to torture people would be enough. Including hunters. 

“Good. Make sure to keep him in line, Igor.” Dracula ordered his head henchmen. “Also, I don’t want him to get too damaged before we have a chance to put him too good use.” 

“What of the girl?” He asked the dark Prince. “What shall we do when she arrives?” Igor looked at the vampire and see the smirk now reappear on his face. 

“Don’t worry, Igor. Hunter or not, I believe she won’t be too much of a disturbance for our plans.” He picked up a glass from the table, which contained a dark red substance and drank it slowly. Once the glass left his lips, he sighed in satisfaction. “We will wait until she arrives. We know what she looks like and where she will be staying. Send to one of our allies to keep an eye on our little bird. I need to find out more about her. I have given the cardinal clear instructions for the tradeoff. She is to come alone and when she does…I will be sinking my teeth into that lovely neck of hers.” He said as he finished to contents of his glass and set it down on the table next to the picture. “Now go, we have plans to make. Our guest of honor will be arriving soon, and I want to give her a proper Transylvanian welcome.”

....

    Yours and Carl’s plane landed within five hours after you both left Vatican City. Standing outside the small airport, the two of you finally were able to track down a cab willing to take you both to the bus station. There it will lead you to Transylvania, where you will be looking for Van Helsing. The two of you sat in the back of the car not making a sound for a while, before you decided to break the silence. You wanted some answers as to how Van Helsing could caught. 

“Carl, there is something that I had been wanting to ask.” You got straight to the point as the redhead priest looked in your direction. “I need to know…Do you have any idea on how Van Helsing was able to be captured?”

“You’re asking this now? While we are on our way to Transylvania?!” He shrieked as he looked down at you with wide. “To think that Jinette had me come with you when you didn’t even get all the information.”

“Sorry! I got caught up with everything and I just never bothered to ask. I had been through a lot in the past week and a half. I don’t need you berating me because I didn’t get all the facts before leaving!” You yelled back to defend yourself, making Carl flinch a little from your sudden outburst. 

“Hey, keep it down back there! Or I will kick you out of my cab!” shouted the middle-aged cab driver as he looked at the two in the rearview mirror with a deadly glint in his eye. Apparently, not a lot of people find that Romanians were very friendly.

“Sorry, sir.” You apologized to the man up front, and Carl said nothing as the man looked away with an annoyed huff as he looked at the road. With man now looking away from them, you lowered your voice to speak. “Anyway, you still didn’t answer my question…How did Van Helsing get captured?” You asked the man and he sighed.

“He was sent on a hunt here a few weeks ago, he decided that he wanted to go alone.”

“What? Was he suicidal or something?!” You demanded in a yell-whisper, shocked by your life-long friend had been so careless and irresponsible by breaking the one rule of the Order. Never go on a hunt alone. Ever. Had Van Helsing lost his mind since you had left? Carl then sighed heavily as he heard you get so upset over the news had broken to you. Why hadn’t Father Jinette told you about Van Helsing getting kidnapped he wondered. 

“Over the past few years, Gabriel had not been himself. He had been losing sleep and claiming that he had been having nightmares. He wouldn’t tell me specifically what he had dreams about, but I could see he was extremely affected by them.” He looked out the window, looking away from you. Your worry grew more as he spoke so solemnly about Van Helsing. “He refused to tell me everything, but I heard him one night screaming someone’s name. Father Jinette, sister Rosa and Rabbi Goldstein ran into the room to check on him that night. He was flaying and shouting out the name repeatedly. he was trapped in his own nightmare and couldn’t escape. It was like he was having a seizure, even hit Jinette once. It was terrifying.” Carl then looked back to you after, with some water threatened to fall down his face. 

     Far as long as you known him, Carl was always the person that made you laugh.  One time, as he was tutoring you in science, he had accidentally set Father Giovanni’s robe on fire. The bitter, old priest was claiming you were too much of a distraction and wasn’t paying attention when one of Carl’s Bunsen burners. Making him dance around and having Jude throw water on him. The two of you and along with the entire lab laugh their heart out that day. One way or another, Carl knew how to put a smile on your face. To see him in such a state with so much sadness was very rare. Whatever Van Helsing went through, it had rippled on to those around him. 

“Did he tell you anything?” You asked him with furrowed eyebrows.

“No. He wouldn’t say anything about it. To anyone really.” Carl admitted sighed as his eyes slowly began to dry up. “But I did see that all of it affect him throughout his day-to-day life, in his work and on hunts. Nothing truly deadly or dangerous…well, until now at least.” Carl said sadly as he took a breath. You nodded, still not quite believing that he would be so carless, but it explains how he got here. One thing still nagged at you while Carl explained, thinking maybe you can understand more of what was going on with your lifelong friend. 

“Can you tell me what name he was saying? Then name he kept on screaming in his sleep?” You pleaded quietly to the ginger haired man. He looked slowly back to your direction.

“Your name, (Name). He was saying your name.” He confessed remorsefully, causing your eyes to widen in disbelief. Did this mean Van Helsing still cared for you? Did he miss you as much as you missed him? More questions swirled in your mind as the Cab driver announced that you and Carl had arrived at the Morning Dove Inn that was out on the boarder of Wallachia and Transylvania. The inn was located 50 miles away from the village where Gabe had been seen last, called Peonari village. The two of you said nothing after the driver of the cab got all of your things to the Inn. You and Carl carried your bags and walked up to the Building. The Inn was old and seemed a little rundown. The building didn’t have a lot of windows and made the atmosphere dark and cheerless. Your guess is that they don’t get that much business around here due to it be nearly in the middle of nowhere as the high mountains surround the area. Walking up to the reception desk with following behind, you ring the bell. 

“Yes! I am coming!” Shouted the voice of a male voice coming from the back. He sounded a little irritated by how he yelled from a distance. A few moments later, a middle-aged man with black hair and brown eyes with a tall build. “Can I help you too?” He asked you both.

“Yes, we have a reservation under (Last name)?” You told him and then the grumpy man asked for your passports. After he verified your identity, he gave you the room keys. Not before he gave you a look that put you on edge. 

“You be careful around these parts, girly. Strange things have been happening in these parts lately.” He looked at you as dropped the keys into your hand. You closed your hand and gave him a leering look.

“Thanks. I will keep that in mind.” You told him and the man proceeded to tell you two where your rooms are. You brought your things up and opened the door with your room numbers.  As soon as the two of you got up, you handed Carl his key. “Meet me in my room in an hour, Carl. We need to start planning before we enact our plan.” You said before Carl went into his room.

“Of course, by the way, how are we going to go about this? Where do we start looking?” Carl questioned you as he picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulders. 

“We are going to meet someone in town, or rather some people. The ones that were the last to see Van Helsing. I’ll tell you more when you get to my room. We need to wash up and then we can begin making connects with them.” You answered formally.  He nodded and went into his room, locking as he closed it. You went into your own and closed the door behind you. the bag fell to the floor along with the case the held the spear. You opened your bag and grabbed your hygiene products before heading to the shower.

     After you walked out of the shower, you noticed that it was already getting dark due to the room growing darker. Your curiosity ate at you and caused your feet to walk to the window to watch the sun go down. Opening the widow, you scan the scenery of the mountain terrains and saw the beautiful nature scenery. The forest the surrounded the open field was lush and green, adding a deep richness to the earth. The mountains scaled high to the clouds, tops with pure white snow. The colors of the dying daylight that reflected onto the high peaks of the mountains truly took your breath away. 

    When you lived in Kansas, you often yearned for the high mountain tops and celestial beauty that you were used to when you lived in Europe. The American Midwest, though had beauty of its own, was lacking compared to you saw now. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath of the mountain fresh air. You sigh in content before you opened your eyes again. Carl was going to meet you in fifteen minutes, and you needed to get dressed. You closed your window and got out your clothes for the night. After the remaining fifteen minutes, you heard a knock on your door. You opened it and saw Carl in casual entire. 

“Come on in, Carl.” You said and gave Carl chance to enter your room. You closed the door and Carl then faced you as he stands you in the middle of your room. 

“So, we do we start? What’s the plan, (Name)?” Carl asked you as you closed the door.

“It’s getting dark, so we will have to wait until tomorrow. You know very well that these lands are infested with monsters, and we’ll be much more vulnerable if we go out now.” You explained and sat on your bed with your arms folded. “Make sure you get plenty of sleep because we are getting up early tomorrow. We don’t have a whole lot of time. We only have only a few weeks before Dracula’s deadline is up.” 

“Who are we meeting tomorrow? You mentioned that we were meeting some people that will help us finding Van Helsing?” Carl asked after you finished explaining your plan.

“The Valrious family.”

“They Valerious family? The famous monster hunting family that have been defending this entire region for over five centuries?” Carl’s eyebrow rose in shock.

“Yes, they were partnering with Van Helsing when he went missing. They are the only ones that know all the places where Van Helsing had been. They were also that last people to see him. They are our only leads to finding him.” You answered him. “Go get some sleep and tomorrow we will go down to the village.”

“Right.” Carl said as he took a deep breath. You noticed as he got agitated with every word the two of you spoke. You got up to meet him at eye level.

“What’s wrong, Carl?” You asked him with your voice laced with his concerned. 

“It’s just, I’m worried about Van Helsing. I don’t know if we will be able to find him again.” Carl shakingly said as he rubbed his hands. You have seen him do this time and again when he was worried about something. He had every right to be nervous. You were too over not being able to find Van Helsing.  For all you know, this all could be in vain. Dracula was the lord of the dead and a vampire. You don’t expect a monster like him to keep his word. However, something inside you told you to try and find him. 

“Carl.” You placed a hand on the priest with a sad smile. “We will find him. I know it seems like a slim chance at this point, but we have to try. Van Helsing is strong, and he will hold on until we get to him. I promise we will find him.” Your words seemed to ease him as he gave you a small smile. He nodded and started to leave the room after he bid you a good night. As he closed the door, now leaving you alone. You got your sleepwear together and got yourself ready for bed. 

 Watching from afar, Dracula’s head bride, Alera, eyed the girl’ window with intense curiosity. Her lord and husband was right, she was beautiful. It had almost made her snarl at the fact that Dracula had grown a little obsessed with the human female. Dracula had instructed her to keep a close eye on her when the sun was down, and give him any details about where she might be going. When the girl closed her window, she quickly made her way to the inn. Thanks to her acute hearing, she was able to hear everything about the plan to find Van Helsing. (Name) planned on seeing that wretched family, known as the Valerious family. She wanted to growl at the mere mention of the family of hunters that have killed so many of her kind for centuries. Still, Alera knew she had to stay quiet. She cannot have her cover blown over her hate filled emotions. 

    After she bid her companion good night, the woman was now left alone to sleep. When she knew (Name) were asleep, she quietly and swiftly crawled up to the window and opened it gently. Alera knew very well on how to remain as silent as the wind when entering a house. She had done it for centuries to pray on her unsuspecting victims. Suddenly, when she tried to reach the opening, her hand began to burn. She shirked in pain as she drew herself away and clutched onto her hand.

“Who’s there?!” The young woman shouted from her bed and the light in your room went back on. Alera knowing her cover had been blow, fled away from the seen before you could spot her in the night. Once she was far away from the Morning Dove Inn, Alera transformed into her demon form and fled away into the night sky. 

...

(Name)’s POV.

  As soon as you heard the ear-piercing scream, you jolted from your bed. Grabbing your gun and holy water.

“Who’s there?!” You demanded to whoever was invading your room. You looked around and noticed the window was opened. Your eyes widened as you quickly ran up to the window and locked the shutters. Not long after, Carl came bursting through the door panting like crazy.

“What happened?! Are you okay (Name)?!” Carl yelled in a panic.

“I’m fine, Carl. I believe that someone had tried to break in here.” You explained as you put your gun down on your nightstand. 

“Break in?!” He cried as you told him what had just happened. 

“Yeah, and by the looks of it, it wasn’t human.” You said as you pointed at the window. “I blessed the window frames with holy water and use ancient warding symbols that were specifically to keep vampires away. It one of the most efficient ways to keep vampires out.” You explained to the priest as looked at the now closed window. Carl then looked at the wards that surround the window in a foreign language that he had never seen before.

“Brilliant.” Carl looked at you with great astonishment at your careful preparation. “Where did you learn all this? I don’t remember the Cardinal teaching us these skills.” He asked you as he saw the 

“A man named Sam did. He is one of my best friends in the States.” You answered honestly.

“Sam?”

“Yeah, he taught me a lot during my time there. He taught me some of the most effective ways to hunt monsters that I never heard of before. I have fought a lot of vampires and werewolves in the States and Sam taught me a lot.” With your words, you face fell as you thought about Sam. It hurt to talk about your time with the Winchesters. You shook that off for now, trying to focus on what was going on in the moment. “Carl, I believe Dracula knows we are here.”

“Already? How?”

“I don’t know, but I have a feeling we need to be more cautious. I was hoping that it would have taken time for his to catch on, but I laced these wards on my window just in case. Turns out, I was right to do so. We should do the same to yours, Carl. In case they come back.” You suggested. Soon, you grabbed all your tools and headed to Carl’s room. After drawing the sigils around his window, you bid him good night once more and headed back to your room to sleep. You had a long day ahead and you were running out of time. With Your eye lids growing heavy with sleep and let yourself succumb to the darkness. 

   Standing in the large crowd, you felt as if your ears were starting to bleed. The people were all together in a large square with hundreds of people. Young, old, men and women. All of them chanted angrily, throwing fists in the air with a violent rage. 

“He’s a fraud!”

“Hieratic!”

“Liar!”

  Shouted the angry masses as they all look up at the balcony. A man emerged, dressed in fine robes. He had a circlet crown upon his head. The mob like crowd cheered as the man appeared in front of them. You stood far back, but you were able to see enough of this man to see that he displayed a significant amount of authority. With a simply wave of his hand, the people were silent. With the wave of his other hand, another man had come forward next to him. You could barely make out his face, but you could see the silent strength that you had witnessed once before. 

“Ye has brought this man unto me not guilty of any wrongdoing!  I have examined him before ye and found no-fault with his man of which ye have accused him! Of Which I shall release him!” Said the finely clothed man and the crowd around you muttered in shock and were beginning to shout “No”.  “Then what shall I do with this man, if ye will not let me release him?!” He said pointing to the man next to him.

“Crucify him! Release Barabbas!” Shouted one of them men in fine priest robes and jewelry standing in the front of the crowd along with other men that were dressed the same. Your eyes widen in the direction of the heartless priest.

“No.” you uttered to yourself, tears now streaming down your face as you look back up to the direction of the balcony once more. 

“Would ye have me release Barabbas?! Over him?! An innocent guilty of no crime?!” He pointed back at the man in white standing by him. 

“No, please.” You quietly cried again, not wanting to see this going they way you prayed it wouldn’t. Watching the man in fine garbs take a deep sigh and then turned away from the mob. He has a servant bring out a bowl and poured water in it. The man then washed his hands in it and turn back to the people once more.

“I wash my hands of this innocent man’s blood! See to it yourselves!” He shouted and then proceeded to walked away from the crowd. The people cheered violently as you cried out the man on the balcony. 

“No! No, let him go!!” You ran to the front and try to fight your way through the crowd. As soon as you reached the front, the cheers faded away and it all went dark. 

“NO!!!”

….

Holy crap! It's been over a year since I have updated! I really hope you guys like this chapter! sorry it's not as great as others but I really appreciate your guys feedback and follow me for more!

[yugenwrites]

∗ —— Adrian “Alucard” Tepes x D.

∗ —— Part one, part two, part three, part four ( coming soon ).

∗ —— NOTES: This story is inspired by some of the fanart that is done by tender miasma / suzannart! The worlds of Castlevania and Vampire Hunter D are connected to one and another.

D sat himself at the back of the tavern, in a corner that wasn’t occupied by a single soul. His back faced towards the very few people inside and surprisingly no one had noticed him; or at least no one bothered to comment on his presence. He wasn’t planning on drinking anything, the beer had not interested him. To him the beer smelled foul but he wouldn't expect any better from a place that was in shambles.

He listened in to the questionable conversation that was being held between the brothers who sat at the bar. Nothing about what they had to say seemed important in the slightest. The dhampyr closed his eyes for a moment until a young looking man barged in, panting like he was trying his best to find some air and eyes wide, about to pop out of sockets. "Ale! For Christ's sake,” he exclaimed in distress. Everyone seemed to shift their attention over to him, including D.

"Piter! We were just wondering if you'd spotted any attractive sheep on your ride out. What's the word mate?" Once the bartender  poured the young man a mug of ale who had immediately begun to chug it down before breathing heavily once more. "The horde's been seen, sweeping west!"

"Shit, you think they'll reach us?" "I think they might pass us by. I don't know, I hope. I'm told they're closing on Gresit." "Serves 'em right. Stuck - up bastards." "Ah, come on . . ." "No. No, it all comes down to the families and the houses, doesn't it? The great houses of Gresit." Bosha spits upon the ground. "Vlad Dracula? An old family. The capital? All run by the great houses. And they're not even the worst. The Belmonts?"

The conversation had gotten much more interesting which was the reason for D to turn his head so he was able to see the four slightly better. He looked at them from the corners of his eyes and behind them sat a drunken man who grumbled under his breath, seeing that he had run out of alcohol. The man was no one other than Trevor Belmont himself.

"We should have killed all the Belmonts." Trevor turned away when the eldest brother spoke. He raised a hand to cover his face all the while mumbling a soft “shit” under his breath. He hunched himself down, as if not trying to be seen or caught. "It's all about these old families, like the Belmonts, who control all the power and go to war with each other. And who's caught in the middle?"

"We are." "We are! Because we don't matter. Do you know why? Where'd you come from?" "Well, out of your aunt, according to you." "You came from shit. I came from shit. We all came from shit." Trevor muffled their words from out of his ears as he grunted before looking at his empty mug. With a sigh, he walked up the front while knocking over his mug in the process. "Slaves to great old families and their games."

"Sorry. Can I get my ale . . ?" Trevor stood next to Piter with one arm leaning on the counter. "It's just that I think I'm sobering up."

"All right, all right, but wanna see some coin from you now." The bartender sent a glare in his direction and Trevor groaned before he reached down in his pockets and tried to search for his money but after some seconds, he realized he barely had anything.

"Hey, what's that on your chest?" Bosha pointed at the family crest and Trevor looked down while shrugging his shoulders, mumbling the words: “My shirt”. He then ignored the brother and looked at the bartender again. “Just one more tankard, eh Something to keep me warm while I find a tree to sleep under.”

"That's a family chest. I know it."

"I don't. Just one more drink and then I'll leave, all right?" Trevor attempted to ignore the man again, expression hardened and flashing with annoyance.

"That's a Belmont crest."

"Really? Look, here's the money." He tossed the money on the counter and backed himself away but he was stopped by the bickering man.

"You're a Belmont, aren't you? House of Belmont, family Belmont!"

"It seems trouble cannot be escaped." D mumbled under his breath before he stood on his feet, the chair scratching against the chair as he did so. He turned himself to face the others fully now with eyes narrowed.

"Never met them. Listen, just forget it. I'll just go." When Trevor tried to walk away, he was pushed back and nearly stumbled on the floor. Only from that  point forward did everyone give him a look of anger, all except for D. "No, you're a Belmont! This is all your fault."

"I don't know what you're talking about " "Yes, you do."  "Yes, you do. Everyone knows the Belmont dealt with black magic. The Belmonts dealt with monsters." "The Belmonts fought monsters, son . . . So I've been told. This is just an old shirt." "The Belmonts were excommunicated by the Church, banished, disowned, their lands taken because they were evil." "Evil." "And now Dracula's hordes are abroad in the land. And who's fault is that?" "Well it ain't mine." "The Belmonts traded in black magic, and now black magic is all over Wallachia. I think you know exactly whose fault that is.

"I'm leaving, okay? I'm leaving now." Yet again, as Trevor tried to excuse himself, he was pushed back. "So you can lead your monster friends back here?" "So I can find somewhere to piss and somewhere else to sleep." "No, you can sleep right here." "You haven't got your shovel."

As Bosha raised his fist to punch Trevor, his fist was caught by a rather cold hand. He looked up to see a man with a hat that covered the majority of his face but he was able to see dark blue eyes piercing down at him. “Who the fuck are you?!” He asked while his voice trembled but he tried to hide his fear with an angry expression.

"Dear god, you fucking taste gross!" Bosha looked down at his fist when he heard a muffled voice. It took him a moment when he realized that his fingers had been licked. With a high pitched scream he pulled his hand away and Kob did nothing but laugh. “And you scream like a damn girl.”

"If you stepped in before he started harassing you then that would have been perfect." Trevor looked at D and blinked but despite his words of rudeness he stepped over to the dhampyre and stood behind him.

"What was happening before all of this was none of my business." D's voice sent a shiver down Trevor’s spine. The dhampyre looked at Bosha who hid Kob, fearing for his life. He didn’t want to become possible food for the talking hand. “You are childish for a man who is in his fifties.”

"What did you just — ?!"

Before Bosha could even think about finishing his sentence, D turned on his heel and walked out of the tavern and Trevor walked behind him, but not before he was given the opportunity to flip the farmer off with a grin that said “eat shit”.

“Is there a reason why you’re here, Hunter D?” Trevor crossed his arms over his chest, his expression became serious. The dhampyre turned his head to look at the man before he had answered him.

“You know more about the situation at hand than I do. Don't you, Belmont?”

“Don’t answer my question with another question, you bastard!” D rolled his eyes and walked forward but Trevor had begun to walk along with him. “So I’m gonna kind of guess and say you’re here because of the whole Dracula and his wife situation?”

“Why else would I be here?” D asked and there was a grumble from Trevor.

“Do you believe in this so-called sleeping soldier?” Trevor let his arms fall to his sides. “It’s been the only thing I’ve been hearing for the last couple of days. I can’t believe how fucking stupid people are. How can you trust someone you don’t even know about?”

“The sleeping soldier is no one other than Dracula’s son.” Trevor gave the dhampyre a shocked expression while he paused his steps but D did nothing but continue to talk.

“We’re fucking doomed.”

[see-arcane]

Cards with the Count

Thinking about how Jonathan is trying to pass the time during Vampire Hell Staycation with all the books in the library (a guaranteed Dracula Zone), no stationery (bastard), and a finite amount of secret pen ink and secret diary pages left at his disposal (shit). Reading and writing and art are all out. What’s left?

I like to think, in this order:

1)    He remembers that he has a pack of playing cards in the general luggage Dracula didn’t snatch. A gift Lucy had bestowed on him and Mina, a pack apiece, as she insisted that it was the best way to pass an hour in dreary company that wasn’t to do with gossip or politics.

2)    He doesn’t normally play, if only because he doesn’t have the coin to meet any real gambling stranger at a table. Just a ‘for fun’ thing.

3)    Fuck it. Solitaire. Card towers. It’s something to keep his mind off the…everything.

4)    He gets exactly one (1) day/evening of peace with this. Then:

5)    “Whatever are you up to, my friend?” 

(He didn’t even use the door to give Jonathan time to hide the pack. Misted in. No shadow to give him away. Fantastic.) Jonathan staples his smile back in place and rattles off something apologetic, so sorry, was he keeping the Count waiting? Let him just put this away, he wouldn’t be interested—

6)    Smash cut to the library. The cards are now unofficially confiscated/a staple of the Dracula Zone, alongside the fancy crystal chessboard the Count loves to crush him with on a semi-regular basis. Jonathan is walking him through the rules of sundry card games. Unsurprisingly, he latches onto the concept of American poker readily. The game is a soup of similar European predecessors that light up his eyes with recognition—primero, poque, brelan—sewn together with England’s game of brag into a medley of the initial rules, both written and unwritten.

7)    “A game of skill, then?”

“Skill, acting, and luck.”

Dracula grins as he produces a ransom of gold coins to use as chips. Jonathan deals. 

(What are the extra rules here? Does he throw every hand? Does he play in earnest and inevitably lose anyway? Does it even matter? It isn’t chess, after all. Not a proper strategy game. Cards happen. Guesswork happens. A winner and loser every turn. What does it matter?)

8)    Jonathan realizes two dozen hands later that what matters is, apparently, his face. One that, likewise apparently, cannot be read by the Count in this game. Out of those two dozen hands, Jonathan has won eighteen. Of those eighteen, his hand was the clear dud for nine. Through it all, Dracula’s eyes keep jumping from his own hand to Jonathan’s tired gaze. When Jonathan wins the twenty-fifth hand and the mountain of gold on his side of the table risks toppling off the edge, Dracula bites out a word Jonathan is sure is too caustic to have a spot in the lost polyglot dictionary.

9)    “You have a gift for schooling your face, my friend.” Every word is an icicle; each as sharp as the canines jutting out of the rictus grin.

“I don’t,” Jonathan says. 

And it’s true. Now he’s schooling his face—first lesson of anyone destined for the realm of serving others—but in the game, he’s barely thinking of anything else beyond the ticking of the clock. To punctuate this, he slides the heap of gold back to Dracula’s side of the table. 

“This is only a game for the fun of it. In a game with stakes, there would be something worth playing and worrying for. When you get to England,” his face is very, very schooled as he says this, “you’ll find a much more varied competition at gambling tables. The players who really train their expressions can do so with fortunes at stake, while novices reveal every victory or loss plainly on their face.”

10) Dracula considers this. And smiles.

11) “Ah, then there must be stakes before we can play the game properly. Still, you have won the bulk of these rounds, my friend—” his hand seems like it wants to be strangling something when it drums atop the gold heap, “—and done me the charity of not taking your rightful winnings.” He throws down his cards. Ace and deuce of spades. “I shall have to speak with the kitchen about producing a stand-in prize.” 

He leaves. Jonathan doesn’t blink when he hears the door lock behind him. A card pyramid is erected.

12) Paprika hendl for supper. As excellent as he remembers. Huzzah.

13) The next time he’s herded into the library, he sees what looks suspiciously like his travel paraphernalia flimsily hidden behind a bit of drapery. Dracula is shuffling the deck.

14) “A true prize on the table this time, my friend. I know you are one to appreciate the splendor of our beautiful country, just as I know it is, for your own safety, quite impossible to go exploring alone in the wild. Too many wolves about. But if you win the majority tonight, I shall see to it that my driver takes a leave from his own many errands to escort you beyond the castle for a time, if you so wish.”

“…And if I lose the majority?” He can’t help it: “I’m sure there’s little from me you’d be interested in.”

Dracula grins.

“We shall think of something, I’m certain. Here. Deal.”

15) As expected, Jonathan’s face isn’t effortlessly unreadable in its misery anymore. He has something to play for, even if his trust in Dracula’s dangling carrot on the stick is nigh nonexistent. He loses more. He struggles more. He worries more…

16) …But the wins and losses remain surprisingly even. On into the dawn they play, matching victory for victory. Even the Count seems puzzled. Jonathan is just tired. He was never going to win. The ‘driver’ will fall to some mysterious ailment, his possessions will disappear the moment he’s sent out of the room ahead of the Count. To Hell with it.

17) “I forfeit. We remain tied, so neither has to lose.” A sour smile curls. “Besides, I have kept you up too late again.”

“One more.”

“We can say you won—,”

Dracula gives him a Look.

Jonathan sits again. Plays again.

Wins again.

Dracula hisses several words the polyglot dictionary would be scandalized to translate. Jonathan feels the first genuine smile he’s wanted to make in a month and a half try to creep up on his lips, and stifles it.

18) Dracula turns over his cards and thumbs though the deck as if looking for a conspirator. He even scowls at Jonathan’s forearms, both bare through the whole game as he’d rolled up his sleeves. Still grumbling, his thumbnail finally hooks a card that makes a cloud pass over his face.

19) “What. Is this?”

Jonathan looks.

“Oh, that’s just a Joker.”

“Joker?”

“Yes, I thought I’d taken him out. He’s not a usable card in this game, but he’s sometimes used as a trump or wild card in others. That is, he’s there to turn the tide for whoever gets to play him.”

Jonathan reaches for the card to tuck it back in the box. Dracula pulls it out of reach, walks to the fireplace, and flicks it into the flames.

“Say what you will, but I recognize a symbol of sabotage when I see it. It should not be in the deck at all!” Still watching the little harlequin turn to cinders, he flaps his other hand at Jonathan. “Go rest, my friend. Take that infernal game with you. It is not a respectable pastime for men of our like.”

20) Jonathan gathers up the deck, gives his travel kit a last mournful look, and leaves for his bedroom, knowing not to ask after the walk in the forest as he goes. In his bed, he empties the deck into his hand again and thinks on four things.

Skill.

Acting.

Luck.

And…

21) He turns the deck’s neglected second Joker over in his fingers, the impish face seeming to hold a secret in its grin.

22) When he wakes next, he isn’t surprised to find the deck has been stolen. It doesn’t trouble him. Somehow, it even produces a tired grin on his face. It nearly matches the painted thing hidden, wild and powerful, in the pages of his journal.

[mrstsung]

DEADASS old man shang tsung should be loved more

Like mk legends shang tsung specifically is absolutely delicious.

(Minus some things like not really showing his treachery to shao kahn. Like it's playing a bit too safe in the cunning department. And honestly makes it look like he's a sinp for shao kahn when he fucking wasn't and hated his guts and would happily stab shao in the back 1000 times over if you ask him and given him the opportunity to. And not to mention it's so convenient around plot. And i hate that. Because honestly holy shit this shang had potential. He had the presence,the aura,but never really shown to fight. And it sucks. Because shang is supposed to be a beast in kombat. He was a fucking boss after all. Like gdi nrs. Why you gotta fumble this guy so hard?! Like the writing is right there!)

Anyways. Old man shang. Let's get back to that.

The reason why i feel old man shang or at least how shang tsung IS SUPPOSED TO BE.

This mofo is cursed. To age. Less he takes the lifeforce/souls of others Because he decided to say "fuck you elder gods! Imma take your ritual healing dark magics and apply it to kombat. Imma take this shit and make it my own!" DEADASS a Dracula energy/soul vampire. Like this man despite everything,still could whoop your ass because he is fucking 500yrs old! From old dynasty china. In earthrealm. Yeah.

This man used to be a warrior from earthrealm,got into beef with raiden,and said fuck you im switching sides as soon as he caught whiff of an opportunity to(at least in his mind at the time) be treated "better" (which he really wasn't as better off,maybe even worse,but he had some power and some better standing tho at a cost)

Like you could take shang tsung in many ways. But all in all he doesn't need to be twirly mustache to be evil. Nor does he need to be good or "SOME GODS PLAYTHING!" to be righteous or do honorable things.

Legitimately mofo shang tsung as an old man should be written as a person who comes off as uncannily and eerily calm,a air of danger but you can't really run away nor want to. You're too damn curious even tho you're screaming inside to run. He needs that true fucking snake vibe.

Very few people have written and portrayed this successfully. And tagawa pioneered that well vibe for villains imho. (Tho the man was unfortunately typecasted by Hollywood this man by god set the bar high. He did it so damn well. He put his whole heart into this. And honestly out of all his roles,this was the most notorious of his roles. Tho i hope this man gets more leisure roles and happier roles in the future. And eventually has a safe,and peaceful retirement. He deserves it. Fr. Thank you Mr. Tagawa seriously. <3 )

Artt butler did a fantastic job with shang tsung,tho given a better script it would be better.

Same with alan lee. I feel his would have made me like it more if fans and story weren't shit.

But all in all shang tsung being rejuvenated and young is nice. And should be shown especially since he is cursed. But his default,unpopular opinion here but. His old man form should be his default look. If not old man old man,then a but of salt n pepper at bare minimum.

Honestly,shang i prefer at his old man look because thats what i well grew up on. And that's kinda how i see him. 🤷‍♀️ *shrug*

Like guy is a flashier more fancy pai mei from Tarantino's kill bill to me. Maybe slightly bit more nicer and considerate but not by much. Lol.

I could go on and on about old man shang tsung specifically. But I'll leave this at.

Honestly we just need to bring him back. We need to bring back shang tsung with that vibe. We need to not make him conveniently made for plot. No give me the shang tsung that i fucking knew.

That bastard needs to make a comeback. And mk11 can't be the only game that he does it in.

And mk legends can't be the only media outside the games that does it either.

Anyways,old man shang. I love this foxy grandpa.