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#Dracula the dirty old man

keeperofdarkness22 · 1 year

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Dracula (The Dirty Old Man) | 1969

#Dracula (The Dirty Old Man)#horror #movies #horrormovies #kill #monsters

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starangeell · 11 days

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˖౨ৎ ⋆｡˚﹒janitor a.i bot list update P.2

【 my janitor ai acc - @ Aresangell 】

【 my venus chub acc - @ Starangell 】

【 my cai acc - @ Angelstaar 】

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Liu Kang 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He didn't pay attention to you so you decided to record a spicy video for him, but you didn't expect him to react.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - the hot guy at your gym was flirting with you. 🏳️‍⚧️ 》 transmasc miguel au

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Priest Miguel O'Hara 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Miguel O'Hara chose to be a priest after a personal tragedy, he never faithfully believed in anything ── However, you soon changed that, and he had to fight not to give in to the sins of the flesh.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han /Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You and Bi Han were friends with benefits, but the two of you felt much more than just lust.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Tomas and you were friends for two years. It was obvious to everyone who looked at the way Vrbada spoke to you or looked at you that the ninja was completely in love with you; the less you saw it, whether because you ignored his feelings on purpose or simply couldn't see that there was much more than platonic love. However, with the arrival of your ex, he needed to act.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/ Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You couldn't become a ninja because you were too weak, but now, the grandmaster himself took care of you.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Nanami Kento - 【 𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You accidentally sent a nude to your university professor.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 OC, Needy Boyfriend - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Dmitry is your rich and needy boyfriend, who needs you 24/7, especially when he wakes up without you in his bed.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Lord Raiden - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You were caught by him masturbating.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You needed money and now you have a 'sugar daddy'.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tio Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Your non blood uncle is obsessed with you. V.2

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - a family together, but apart.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Father Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You need to get down on your knees and beg for forgiveness. V.2

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He wants to ask you out with him.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - drinks

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Stepfather Albert Wesker - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - did you know him... V.3

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Kuai Liang - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - Cramps

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Wife Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - he is your sub wife

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - boyfriend gifts

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Goth Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He liked you and your makeup. 🦇 》 gothic au

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - did you get hurt

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You were living in the house of a grumpy old man, but he os very cute... 🎀 》 DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Professor Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - He's your annoying chemistry professor. 📚 》 college au

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Dracula - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - maybe he wants more than your blood. 🎀 》 DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Count Dracula Count - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you are a teacher's assistant and help him with his classes. 🎀 》DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Dilf Nanami Kento - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】dirty secret🎀 》 DILF SERIES

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Lord Raiden - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - teasing and punishment

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Ice God/Bi Han - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - You are the servant of a grumpy ice god. ❄️ 》 ICE GOD/KING AU.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Mad Scientist/Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you are a wonderful experience of him. 🥼 》 MAD SCIENTIST AU

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Johnny Cage - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - aftercare

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - low self esteem | 🎀 》 daddykink version

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you got pregnant with him... 🕷️ 》 miguel o’hara x blackcat!user

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Homelander - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - you are the new hero of the seven and he has his eyes on you.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Nanami Kento - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - we never talked about ***** **** ┆ 🧼 》 fight club au, you are his tyler...

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada- 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - new recruit

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- valentine's day

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Simon Riley 'Ghost' - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - slutty torture

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Lord Raiden - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - he is your father figure

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- lying between his legs

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 OC - Stepfather, Yan Jin - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - your new stepfather is rude but extremely handsome. 🎀 》DILF SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Bi Han/Sub Zero - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- he needs to take care of you.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Kuai Liang - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】- arranged marriage...

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】survivor.🕊️ 》TWD AU, He's Your Negan.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Titan Lord Raiden - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - reencounter

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Step!Brother, Miguel O'Hara - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】breedtable ─ m!preg.🕊️ 》DARK SERIES.

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Yandere! Homelander - 【 𝗙𝗧𝗠 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - a dark hero who is in love. 🕊️ 》 DARK SERIES

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Yandere!Shang Tsung - 【 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - obsession

【౨ৎ ⋆｡˚】 Tomas Vrbada - 【 𝗔𝗡𝗬 𝗣𝗢𝗩 】 - fuck buddies

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lipglossanon · 4 months

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Winter’s Knight

vampire!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

inspired by Leon’s romantic look 😌 and the song Dracula’s Wedding by OutKast 💜 also the poetry mentioned is from Emily Dickinson; there’s also one line plucked from Dracula

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, biting/marking, fated pair, strangers to lovers, blood, blood kink, scent kink, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), OC friend of reader named Lara just in case that throws anyone off, unprotected sex, creampie

title from Winter’s Knight album by Nox Arcana

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!! 💜 😘

“It’s an opportunity of a lifetime,” you mimic in a high tone before rolling your eyes, “opportunity my ass.”

Your friend Lara convinced you to go on this holiday trip with her, all expenses paid, as she wanted the company. The boyfriend that was originally going to be accompanying her had been dumped the week prior. Cheaters never win had been Lara’s flippant reply when asked.

It felt like it happened overnight and before you knew it, Lara had whisked you away to three different countries one of which being the current visit in question. You think you’re in Romania or maybe Estonia; you’re a little mixed up as your plans had changed mid train ride.

Lara’s family had some connections in the area and so you were both staying in a rather posh old castle turned tourist destination.

A very lovely place except now you were completely turned around when all you wanted was to get a bottle of water from the concierge and go back to bed. Your footsteps have slowed considerably as you take in the magnificent gothic architecture and the beautiful paintings ranging from landscapes to some strange brooding man encapsulated in shadows; you’re never fully able to make out what he looks like, too much shadow blanking his features.

You find yourself at a dead end, ornate furniture filling the space with a singular painting taking up the entire wall. It literally takes your breath away. It must be the place you’re staying in, the front gate still looks the same from what you can tell; it’s this castle seated on a rocky cliff face overlooking the villa down below. Your hand reaches out to touch, but you hover over the gilded frame before dropping it back to your side.

“Lovely, no?”

A smooth, low voice has you spinning around, a thrill of fear humming in your chest.

A man stands to the side, a little further down the hall. He’s tall, slim waisted with broad shoulders that stick out to you, even being shrouded in the dim lighting like he is; his eyes shine like an animal’s before you blink and it’s gone.

That small niggling of fear in your brain is getting louder as he moves closer, making no sound in his sharp dress shoes.

He keeps his eyes locked on the painting as he stops next to you.

“Quite an ancient castle,” he murmurs, almost too low for you to hear.

When he finally turns to face you, you almost gasp. He’s beautiful, almost ethereal with his snowy white hair and fair complexion; both make the blue of his eyes almost glacial.

He smiles sardonically, “Lost?”

You squint your eyes at him, lips pursing in suspicion, “You could say that.”

He grins and his teeth glint sharply before he turns, holding his arm out for you.

“I can guide you back to your room, miss?”

You smile sarcastically as you step up alongside him, completely ignoring the proffered arm, “Miss is just fine, sir.”

His eyes flick from the end of the hallway to you and he hums in amusement, “Well miss, shall I lead the way?”

“Oh, please do,” you simper and this earns a low chuckle from the handsome stranger, making your heartbeat flutter at the sound.

He guides you back to the foyer and up the grand staircase, pointing out paintings or furniture that have some kind of significance to the castle. Pausing in front of an oil painting not far from your room, he falls into a sort of melancholy.

“This was one of the ladies of the castle,” he finally pulls back, turning without looking back at you, “I’m sure you can find the rest of your way, miss.”

You startle, not realizing he was just going to dip out now.

“Hey!”

He pauses, half turning so you can see the profile of his straight nose and sharp cheekbone.

“Thanks, mister?” You trail off, hand fluttering in the air as you gesture.

He fully turns to smile at you, “Mister is just fine, thanks.”

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of your chest, missing the way he lights up at the sound, eyes cataloging you far more closely than before.

“Well, thanks Mister,” you shake your head, smile still stretched across your face, “maybe I’ll see you around then.”

“Maybe,” he murmurs, bowing to you at the waist, “goodnight, Miss.”

“Goodnight,” you tilt your head and wave your hand.

Laughing to yourself, you turn and head further down the hall and into your room. He watches you until the door clicks shut and he turns back to leave. Pausing in front of the painting once more, he brushes a thumb across the placard on the bottom.

“She feels like the one, hmm?” He murmurs to the half smiling woman, “now that she’s here, I don’t know if I can do it.”

A door snapping shut from further down the hall has him pulling away from the painting and slipping off into the night.

You run into the strange gentleman again in the castle gardens situated just to the side of the towering edifice. Since Lara’s pacing in her room trying to figure out what went wrong with your travel plans, you decided to go for a walk instead of sitting around doing nothing.

You’re looking at one of the dead withered trees off to the side, debating if sitting on the bench here is safe from any falling branches when that low smoky tone speaks behind you.

“There’s a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, that oppresses, like the heft of cathedral tunes.”

You squash your urge to jump in place and spin around to face him. He’s no less devastatingly pretty in the weak winter sunlight.

“Good afternoon to you, too,” you smile, enjoying the weirdness he exudes, “and what a conversation starter, might I add.”

He meets your smile with his own little grin, “Somber poetry for a somber day.”

You giggle, “Guess so.”

He gestures and you sit on the bench as he takes a seat next to you.

“Here on vacation?” You kick at a loose rock with your booted foot.

“You could say I’m here for leisure,” he muses, blue eyes taking in every nuance of you.

You tilt your head to look at him, “Oh I could, huh?”

Laughing, you straighten up, hands fiddling with the clasp on your jacket, “Well, I’m also here for leisure. Even though it’s kind of an accident.”

He raises an eyebrow and you continue, “It was a mix up and we ended up here. A vacation, just not in the right place.”

“How fortunate am I,” he smirks and you feel heat blaze in your chest, eyes dropping to look down at your jacket.

You tug on the zipper, catching your finger in the teeth with a hiss. It snags a bit of skin as you jerk it free, blood beading on your fingertip.

His features are serious as he takes your hand in his, “You must see to it so it doesn’t become infected.”

You nod, touched at his concern, “I have some alcohol swabs and bandaids up in my room.”

He brings your hand closer and you get the wild idea he means to suck your finger into his mouth, but he only kisses the back of your hand as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, a light gray fabric that looks like it costs more than your entire wardrobe. You catch his initials, L.S.K., monogrammed in black on the edge.

“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling flushed in the cool afternoon air as you clasp the handkerchief to your finger.

“My pleasure. Shall I escort you back to your room, miss?”

Lips parting, you take in his pinched features as he stares at your hand before nodding again, “Yes, please.”

His eyes snap up and he smiles, relief spreading across his face, “Good, good.”

Once you’re both standing, he snags your elbow with his fingers and gently guides you along. Since he’s much closer than before and you’re not sniffling from the cold air, you catch a strong smell of cedar and cloves that nearly makes you swoon.

“Are you okay?” He stops, grip firming up on your bicep to tug you closer making the smell even stronger.

“‘m okay,” you murmur, eyes drooping as you slump against his chest, “just smell good.”

You feel him laugh and the low baritone makes your cunt throb so hard you whine into his jacket.

“Maybe moving from the cold into the warmth has made you dizzy,” he says kindly, “come, let me help you to your room.”

Completely unsure as to what’s happening to you, you let him lead you back to your room. Your legs don’t seem to want to move the way you want to and the more you breathe in whatever cologne he’s wearing, the more slick drips from your pussy into the gusset of your panties to the point you’re soaked between your thighs.

He murmurs low platitudes in your ear that just makes everything better worse, so by the time you make it back to your room and he eases you down into your bed, you’re asking him to stay.

“No. You’ll thank me later,” he soothes, pulling off your winter boots and tucking you under the covers.

“Please,” tears prick your waterline, emotions and hormones all over the place.

His lips thin and he runs a hand through his white hair, strands ruffled when he clasps your hands together, “Just close your eyes. I’ll stay here.”

Dropping to the floor, he kneels alongside your bed, keeping your hands together. Struggling to keep your eyes open, you just know he won’t be there when you wake up and some part of you hates that idea.

“Didn’t think it would affect you like this,” he murmurs as you drift off.

With a small shift, he moves forward and pulls the pricked finger into his mouth. His hot tongue lashing against the digit is the last thing your mind holds onto before it slips away like sand in the tide.

When you come to, it’s dark outside and Lara is shaking your shoulder.

“Finally,” she huffs, brows pinched, “thought I was gonna have to take you to a doctor or something. You good?”

You squint at her but can’t remember anything but the stranger you met helping you back inside from the cold. The rest is a cloudy blank in your mind.

“Yeah, just tired I guess,” you raise up, pushing the blankets away to swing your feet out of bed, “what’s up?”

As you shift, you notice a small square cloth and a bolt of memory, of sitting on the bench with that man, makes your eyes widen. You pick up the handkerchief and tuck it into your pocket.

She smiles weakly, “Kinda stuck here a few more days then we’ll just fly back home in time for Christmas.”

You frown, an uncomfortable sadness pinging in your chest, “Oh? That’s fine. I like it here, so it’s not like it’s a hardship.”

Lara laughs, “Maybe for you. I’m ready to be somewhere that has pizza delivery.”

You grin, “Fair enough,” you push her shoulder, “well, when do we plan on leaving?”

“Two days is what my travel agent says,” she looks down at her phone, “that was the nearest opening since it’s the busy season and plus a storm is coming in tonight.”

“Ahh,” you nod along, “plenty of time to sightsee then.”

She giggles at your teasing and stands up from the bed, “I just wanted to let you know. It’s kinda late but the kitchen’s still open if you wanna grab something. I’m honestly exhausted from being on the phone all day so I’m gonna crash.”

“Hang on!”

You throw on some shoes and meet her at the door, “I’ll walk you to your room and head down to grab some food. You sure you don’t want anything?”

“Nah,” she shakes her head, “I had something earlier since I thought you’d eaten. You sure you’re feeling okay, though?”

“Mmhmm,” you smile, pausing outside her door, “promise.”

She returns your smile, “Okay, goodnight then.”

“Night!”

The door snaps shut behind you as you walk away, heading to the staircase and down to the restaurant. You take your time, stopping to look at various paintings on the way down, even pausing in front of a suit of armor to peer into the empty helm.

“Expecting a skeleton?”

You jump backwards, nearly tripping as you stumble into the firm chest behind you.

Righting yourself, you feel hot all over in embarrassment as you meet your strange acquaintance for the second time today.

“U-uh, hi,” you feel jittery with nerves, like a new crush, “thank you for today by the way. I don’t know how I got into my room, but I’m guessing you helped?”

His brows raise in surprise, but it’s quickly replaced by a warm smile that makes butterflies flutter in your chest, “Yes, you weren’t feeling well. Dizzy from the temperature change.”

You take a half step back, leaving more distance between you two.

“Well, thank you,” you clear your throat, “uh, I was going down for a late dinner, do you want to join me?”

A sly grin crosses his features making you nervous, “I’d be delighted although I’ve already.. eaten this evening.”

“O-oh okay,” you stumble over your words as you turn to walk down the stairs, “anything you’d recommend?”

A sharp bark of laughter escapes him as he walks alongside you, “No, nothing I’d recommend. Although I’ve heard their special today is excellent.”

Surprised at his outburst, your brows furrow as you smile in confusion, “If you say so.”

You lapse into a comfortable silence as you both make the walk to the dining room. There’s just something about him that draws you in like a moth to a flame. At first you just thought it was his strange mannerisms, but in the short span of time that you’ve spent together you just feel connected on some hidden level that you’ve only just discovered.

Dinner is a quiet affair; the strange man, who you still don’t know the name of, joins you for your meal. He makes small talk about the local area in which he’s well informed about, no surprise. After you’ve finished your meal, he offers to take you out for an after dinner stroll around the castle before bed.

Not wanting to leave his company just yet, you readily agree and let him lead you around the place. It’s as he’s guiding you down a long L shaped hallway filled with more paintings that a chill runs down your spine and he freezes in place, half turning to shield you from the person who seems to materialize in front of you two.

“Hello, Leon,” a silky voice purrs as a beautiful woman steps into view.

She’s beautiful and ethereal in a way that’s almost terrifying, much like the mysterious gentleman half blocking your view; Leon she called him.

“What a lovely surprise,” she steps closer, form appearing to ripple in the dappled moonlight streaming from the windows.

“Ada, how can I be of service?” His polite tone’s cold and to the point, even as he pushes you further behind him.

“Aww, don’t be like that,” she lilts, voice playful and coaxing, “I’ve already seen your pretty playmate. Is she a new friend?”

You blink and the dark haired woman is standing next to you, Leon twisting uncomfortably to turn around.

She twirls a strand of your hair with a manicured nail, “I won’t bite. Unless she asks,” she winks at you and your eyes widen in surprise.

“She’s new, yes. A visitor,” Leon’s hand reaches out to grasp your hip, tugging you into his side, “so don’t play games.”

“Games?” She laughs, eyes bright, “are you still sore that I stole Claire away?” she pouts at him, “she wasn’t your one, so why are you still upset?”

You watch all of this with rapt attention and so much confusion.

He scowls at her, eyes darkening as he straightens his stance, “It doesn’t matter if she was the right one or not, you stole her away from me.”

She laughs outright at that, side stepping away from you and closer to him, “Can’t steal someone if they want to be taken, right, Leon?”

He deflates a little, gaze flitting to you and back to her, “What do you want now?”

“To bother you,” she smiles over at you and you notice her incisors are longer than normal, “since I’m just passing through, thought I would say hello to an old friend.”

They stare at each other for a beat longer than what’s comfortable before she sighs melodramatically.

“As much as I would love to stay, and believe me I want to so very badly,” she blows a kiss at Leon as she walks backwards to the far end of the gallery, “I do have unfinished business nearby that I must take care of. Ciao!”

It’s so quiet after she leaves that the ringing in your ears sounds abnormally loud.

Leon clears his throat and gives you an apologetic smile, “I’m very sorry about all of that.”

You wave your hands, “No worries. It’s not really my business, y’know.”

He winces at that and you scrunch your nose, internally cringing at yourself. It’s a somber feeling as he quietly leads you back to your room.

Pausing at the threshold, you reach out and snag the sleeve of his shirt.

“Hey,” you murmur, dropping your gaze to the fabric you’ve pinched between your fingers, “you wanna meet up tomorrow?”

He frowns although you don’t see it and slowly tugs his arm loose, “I don’t know.”

Whatever feeling that has been building in your chest feels like a punctured balloon at his flippant tone.

“Oh,” you drop his shirt like it burns, willing the tears away at least until you can shut the door, “I-I didn’t mean to— nevermind. Kinda silly of me. Hopefully I’ll see you before we leave.”

His fingers circle around your wrist tightly, holding you in place, “You’re leaving?”

You level him with a flat stare, “Of course. We’re only here for a couple more days. So if you’ll excuse—“

He presses forward, pushing you through the doorway to follow after, letting the door swing shut behind you both.

“Let go of me,” you twist your arm but Leon doesn’t budge.

A concentrated look arrests his features, blue eyes skimming down your body and back up to your face.

“Leon,” you bite out sharply, making him draw up short, “that’s your name, right?”

“Yes,” his eyes look wild as he lets go of your wrist to grasp both of your hands with his own, “yes, my name is Leon. Leon Kennedy. I’m sorry, this isn’t quite how I wanted things to go.”

You finally pull your arm away, “I’d like it if you left. I’m really confused and you’re acting strange.”

He looks at you so sadly it makes your chest hurt, “Can I show you something? I’ll leave you alone after that if that's what you’d like.”

Pursing your lips, you squint at him until you finally nod, “Alright.”

His shoulders sag and he walks back over to the door. Holding it open, he waits until you cross the threshold before stepping back in front of you. You make the short walk to the painting down the hall from your door when Leon pauses.

You look at the painting then to his serious face with raised brows.

“You’re showing me this again?” Confusion colors your tone, “am I missing something?”

“Have you read the name underneath?”

Shaking your head no, you step forward to read the small gold plate underneath.

“Claire Kennedy née Redfield,” you murmur to yourself.

Claire? That mysterious woman mentioned her name earlier. The one Leon said she stole away. The correlation is there but you feel like you’re missing a huge part of the puzzle to actually end up at the correct explanation.

You turn to Leon, “So is this the Claire you were talking about?”

He nods, eyes heavy and sad as he flits his gaze between you and the painting, “Yes. It was a political marriage. We were friends before everything happened.”

“Ookay,” you frown again, “so she ran off with her girlfriend?”

He flinches at that, “My other wife.”

You feel floored, “Wait, what?!”

Rubbing your forehead, you’re getting a pain behind your left eye from trying to parse it all together.

“So, your new wife ran off with your then current wife? Am I getting that right? How long ago was this, Leon?”

He gestures a little wildly at the plaque, “You didn’t see the year?”

Squinting, you lean forward and can make out circa 1849.

“Fuck off,” you blurt out, leaning back and taking a half step away, “what kinda joke is this?”

“I wait my whole life to bite the right one,” he mutters to himself, hand raking through his parted hair, “that’s not to say I didn’t mess up a couple of times before.”

You take another step back, away from Leon, “What do you mean?”

His eyes snap over to you and you freeze in place. Everything about him seems to be amplified to ten now, he’s exuding an energy that makes the hair on your arms stand up.

“You’re the one,” he steps up until he’s in your personal space, “Ada and Claire were accidents. I didn’t realize that there’s only one compatible partner for me.”

“Compatible partner?” voice pitching high, “you sound crazy right now.”

His brows lower, “You feel it too, little miss. It’s why you passed out earlier. Blood calls to blood.”

You’re hit with a wall of need so crippling your legs give out making you come down hard on your knees.

“I’ve been shielding you,” he murmurs, kneeling in front of you, hands reaching out to brush across your jaw and neck, “it’s a lot to take in, I know.”

Gasping in deep breaths, you’re overwhelmed with the scent of cedar and cloves from earlier. You don’t know how you forgot that smell but now it’s all you can concentrate on; your head goes fuzzy as arousal sweeps through your body.

“What is this?” you slur, eyes hazy as you slump forward into Leon’s shoulder, “what did you do t’me?”

“Nothing,” he soothes, petting down your back, “it’s just the effect of the compatibility. I can’t explain it; I just instinctively know it’s right.”

Reaching out, your hands weakly clasp at his shirt, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay,” he coos, “let me take you to my room.”

Not able to argue against him, he easily lifts you into a bridal carry. He uses one hand to block your eyes and you feel cold wind before he removes his palm and you see you’re in a room three times the size of your own. Leon eases you down onto an absurdly luxurious bed, sheer drapes lost to the shadows of the ceiling.

Once he steps away, leaving a sizable gap between you both, the dizziness subsides and your thoughts aren’t as fleeting.

“What the fuck?” you whisper, hands shakily brushing wisps of your hair back from your face, “what the ever loving fuck? Am I losing my mind?”

Your eyes quickly dart around, taking in the opulate furnishings and huge windows overlooking the cliff side, showcasing you now must be on the upper level of the castle. Your gaze lands on a time worn painting off to the side of Leon and his first wife, the dark haired beauty he called Ada. Next to it is another portrait of his second wife, Claire, yet another beautiful woman with red hair.

Leon’s hands ball into fists at his sides as he takes in a deep breath, “It’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Leon, what’s going on?” Your voice breaks, mind struggling to keep up with what’s happening to you.

“My first wife,” he points to the older portrait, “we were human at the time.”

“At the time?” You squeak out.

He hums, eyes flashing in the low light, “Yes. Then the change occurred to me after getting lost on a hunting trip. When I returned, I offered it to her but she refused,” he tilts his head up and shields his eyes with a hand, “and I made her like me anyways. She was my wife. Our vows were to be together in sickness and in health. She didn’t see it that way.”

You watch as he shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping to the portrait with his fingers outstretched but never outright touching the canvas.

“She said it was til death do us part but I thought she was my one,” he sighs sorrowfully, “so I changed her and she loathed me. She eventually left one night never to come back. I didn’t chase after her, resigned to her resentment. I didn’t hear from her for hundreds of years. Then Claire came along.”

Your eyes jump from Ada to the smiling redhead in the other portrait.

“Her brother needed her to marry someone with an upstanding background; someone with title and lands to trade,” he smiles bitterly at you, “I posed as my own great great nephew and set up the marriage. We became friends through our letters and when we wed it was wonderful. I kept what I was from her for as long as possible.”

He steps over to you and you flinch making his eyes droop in pain.

“She figured it out quickly, such a smart woman,” he smiles crookedly, “I loved her dearly, but she wasn’t enough either. I changed her thinking that this is it, but it wasn’t. She wasn’t the one either. Ada came soon after and easily whisked her away from me.”

He sighs forlornly. Your lips part but you change your mind and refrain from saying anything.

“Claire’s brother even convinced Ada to change him so he could defend her honor against me,” he blows out a short breath, “letting you know in case he shows up to be the gallant hero.”

“Leon,” you murmur, at a complete loss for words.

“We all understand each other now and they’re happy where they are,” he laughs derisively at himself, “and I’ve lived alone here, running this place through a shell company hoping against hope for just one more chance.”

“This is insane,” you finally say to him, “you’re telling me you’re a vampire and I’m beholden to you? And on top of that you practically have a coven. This is impossible.”

“But you feel the pull, too,” his voice dips into that low smoky tenor, “you’re the one. You are to be my new bride.”

Your laugh startles you both, but you can’t stop the manic giggles once they start. Once the mania seems to pass and with it your hysterical laughter, you finally get yourself under control and clear your throat.

“Prove it,” you tell him seriously, heart beating so fast your sure he can hear it, “let me see this vampire side of yours and if I believe you, if you convince me, then I’ll be your bride.”

His smile lights up his whole face making your breath catch.

“That’s easily done.”

He stands directly in front of you and that strange energy fills the room; you watch in complete astonishment as he looks like he dissolves until there’s only mist floating in the air. It drifts languidly past you and you feel the bed dip with body weight.

His hot breath caresses your ear, “Is that enough, little bride?”

A full body shudder hits you as he kisses across your neck, the sharp prick of fangs dragging across your skin.

“Let me bite you,” he whispers sweetly, “let me show you how deep our bond truly is.”

Feeling completely off centered, you breathe out one word without thinking, going with only what feels right.

“Yes.”

His teeth sink into the side of your neck and you cum, slick filling your panties until you’re sure it’s dripping down your thighs. It feels like a typhoon of emotions rains down through your body, pleasure so strong your eyes sting; then, it’s swept through to be quickly replaced by a feeling of home so deeply connected to the man behind you you could openly weep. It’s like a puzzle piece slotting into place somewhere in your chest.

Moaning, your hands scratch at the bedding and he hums against your skin. Pulling away with a low groan, he runs his tongue over the puncture marks.

“So good,” he mouths against your jaw, “let me mark you again.”

Whimpering, you lean back against him as he sinks his teeth into a new spot, softly sucking blood from the wound. His hands slip around your waist to pull you into the V of his thighs. You choke out a whine as your cunt throbs, on the verge of another orgasm and he hasn’t even touched you intimately aside from his teeth in your neck.

“Leon,” you keen, one hand reaching over your head to tangle in his soft, snowy hair.

Chillbumps race down your body when he finally pulls away to place a soft kiss on the bite. He sucks at the tender skin making you mewl longingly until he pulls away with a sigh.

“Let me taste that sweet little pussy,” he purrs in your ear, “I have been dreaming of biting your thighs and kissing your cunt til you can’t take anymore.”

Tugging his hair harder, you whimper and nod your head, “Please, Leon.”

The scent of cedar comes across stronger as he kisses your neck one last time before shifting you both until you’re laying back on his bed. He strokes his hands all down your body, eyes drinking in your expressions.

“You’ve been driving me crazy this entire time,” he slowly undresses you, scraping his sharp incisors against the skin he reveals, “smell so good, so sweet. Makes my mouth water.”

You whimper while watching as he unbuttons your jeans and works them and your panties off of your legs. He groans to see the slick mess between your thighs, cunt glistening with your arousal.

“Look at you,” he breathes out, blown out pupils flicking up to your own dazed eyes.

Wasting no time, he lays down between your spread legs and kisses the top of your pussy, ignoring where you most want his mouth. He drags his lips down and then buries his face in your cunt, spreading your lips apart with his tongue as he licks all over your pussy. Grunting, he shoves his tongue into your hole to spear you open on the thick muscle.

“Leon,” you whisper down to him, feeling so turned on you can’t think straight.

He groans and pulls back, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With a sigh, you relax against the sheets only to jolt as your pussy throbs when he bites you at the crease where your cunt meets your thigh.

Crying out softly, your head thrashes against his bed as he repeats it on the other side.

“I know, but bear with me,” he murmurs, blood coating his mouth as he lovingly kisses the puncture wounds, “doing so well.”

You splay back out against his sheets as he buries his face between your thighs again. He keeps your legs spread as he slowly kisses and sucks at your cunt, like he’s never tasted anything better in his life. Everything’s sensitive and on the verge of too much, but you wouldn’t dream of asking him to stop. That slow syrupy pleasure that’s made your thoughts honey thick is more than welcome.

He laps along the seam of your pussy lips until he glides the tip of his tongue up to the hood of your clit. Leon circles the pudgy bud all slow and soft, tongue dipping down to flutter inside your soaked hole. Groaning at the slick flooding his mouth, he laps at your cunt with long broad strokes of his tongue. He pulls back to suck on your pussy lips before kissing across to your thigh and sinking those sharp fangs into your supple skin.

Your back arches, a low whine spilling from your kiss bitten lips. He kisses and sucks the bitemark until it's ugly and irritated, then drags his lips back to your cunt, kissing your mound softly. He makes out with your pussy with hot and bloody open mouthed kisses, spit drenching your swollen clit as you moan loudly.

Your orgasm builds higher and higher until it’s a tight band ready to snap in your lower belly. Leon senses you getting closer from your body spasming and your voice gaining in volume as he greedily eats your cunt, hungry eyes watching you from between your legs.

With a low keening groan rumbling from deep in his chest, he sinks his fangs into your fat pussy lips as he fucks his tongue into your clenching hole. That pinprick of pain flooded by intense pleasure is enough to push you completely over the edge. Wailing, your spine bows as your climax floods through your body, cunt pulsing and gushing slick as your toes curl in the sheets.

Almost growling into your pussy, Leon flutters his tongue into your hole, lapping up all the slick dripping from your cunt, tongue loudly squelching in and out of your clenching walls.

He finally pulls away with a low moan of pleasure, lower jaw coated with slick and blood.

“So good for me, little bride,” he slinks up your body, joints moving unnaturally but you're hardly able to think past the pleasure buzzing in your brain, “going to make you mine, keep you forever.”

Humming, you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him down into the messiest kiss of the night. He almost snarls into your kisses as he gets rougher, tongue and teeth dominating your mouth, a bruising pressure on your lips.

“Promise me you’ll stay,” he demands, eyes flashing at you as he presses you down harder into the mattress, “stay with me, be mine.”

You softly brush back his hair, voice soothing as you reply, “I promise, Leon. I’m all yours. I’ll be your new bride.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck before sinking those deliciously sharp teeth into you again. Weakly moaning, your eyes roll back as your clit throbs in time with your heartbeat. You feel him shudder when he pulls away to kiss the sluggishly bleeding marks.

“My bride,” he sighs, dragging his pouty lips across your jaw, nose tracing your skin, “you promise to give me all that you are.. all that you will be.”

“Promise,” you gasp out as his hand sneaks down to tease across your clit, cunt soaking the sheets further with fresh slick, “promise, Leon.”

He kisses you then, the hot copper tang of blood flavoring his sweet sentiment. You’re swept under another tide of arousal from his messy lips and tongue while his fingers play with your pudgy clit.

He shifts until he’s next to you, blood smeared mouth parted as his eyes trail down your body. Gripping your hip, he helps turn your body to face him, leaving you both lying on your sides. Your hands reach out to trail down his chest just now noticing that he’s still dressed.

“No fair,” you tease, tugging on the silky material.

He laughs softly, bringing your hand up to kiss your inner wrist before scraping his fangs across the sensitive skin making you shiver. Letting go of your hand, he quickly undresses, dropping his clothes off the side of the bed in a heap. You bite your lip, taking in the long lean lines of his body, eyes widening to see his thick cock filled out and resting against his thigh.

“Leon,” you breathe out, wide eyes tracking back up to his pale blue ones.

This time your hands lightly scratch along his pecs to his twitching abdominal muscles, nails barely scratch the soft thatch of hair above his hard cock.

“You can touch me, liebling,” his lips quirk up into a half smile, “I only bite a little.”

A giggle slips out and your hand grasps the base of his dick and squeezes earning a low groan from the handsome man next to you.

“Stroke me, tease me, do whatever you wish,” he murmurs, hands coming up to cup your breasts, “I’ll enjoy it all.”

You whimper as his long fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, thumbs rubbing circles across your stiff nipples.

While one of your hands teases the head of his dick, you slide the other one to cup his balls making his cock kick, blurting precum onto your fingers.

“It’s so sticky,” you murmur unthinkingly, smearing the precum around his tip making it slippery for your fingers to rub across.

He groans loudly, bucking his hips and sliding his cock through your fingers in a clumsy effort to fuck your loose fist.

“And these are so sensitive,” his low tone razes goosebumps as he tweaks and pinches your nipples until you’re rubbing your thighs together.

“Leon,” you moan, arching your back to press your breasts more firmly into his hands.

“I haven’t had a chance to taste these,” he purrs, ducking his head to nip your chest.

“Please,” you tighten your hand around his cock and pump your fist, “bite me.”

He presses closer against you, hands pushing your breasts up as he dips his head down. Kissing the stiff peak, he licks around the puckered skin close to your nipple.

“Smell so good,” he mumbles, kissing your nipple softly before sucking it into his mouth.

He rolls his tongue around the hard bud before pulling away with a soft pop. He drags his lips down to suck on the skin underneath your breast before opening his mouth and biting deep into the tender flesh.

“Oh god,” you cry out, body writhing so much Leon has to use one hand to grip your ribcage tightly to keep you still.

You're too out of it to jerk him off, hands instead moving to grab onto his hips. He pulls away with a gasp only to sink his bloody teeth into the soft fat of your other breast. Your cunt is a drippy mess by the time he pulls away the second time, tongue sucking the blood off his fangs as his eyes seem to shine with unnatural light.

“The finest of wines,” he smiles at you, licking his lips slowly.

Your cunt throbs and aches, walls fluttering around nothing—feeling empty and needy.

“Leon,” you grab his hand and guide it to your soaked cunt, “please, I want you.”

“Oh my beautiful bride, so wet and ready for me,” he hisses, easily sinking two fingers knuckle deep into your clenching pussy.

Your hands move from his hips to dig into his shoulders making him grind his fingers deeper into your aching cunt. He pulls them halfway out before thrusting them back in, the flat of his palm smacking against your swollen clit.

Nails digging deeper into his skin, you rock your hips in time with his hand, whining and moaning as he fingerfucks your pussy rough and deep.

“Such a sweet little wife I have,” he kisses your ear as your eyes struggle to stay open, cunt clamping down on his fingers from the endearment.

He drags his cock against your thigh, smearing precum against your skin to mix with the slick dripping from your pussy.

“I want to be inside you,” he whispers hotly against your lips, “I want to be buried deep in my bride’s pussy as I drink from her pleasured body.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, throat dry from all your gasping and panting, “I need you inside me, Leon. Please.”

He pulls his fingers out slowly making you whimper once your cunt’s empty again. Leon shushes you gently, gripping his cock in one hand while his other grabs your thigh and wraps it over his waist. Rubbing the fat head of dick up and down your slit, he teases his cock across your hole before using the tip to part your pussy lips and rub across your sensitive clit.

You rock your hips forward and he kisses your neck, tongue lapping at the marks he left. Moving his cock back down, he slowly presses his dick into your leaking hole.

“So tight,” he murmurs, praise lacing his tone and making you hump down onto his cock.

He lets you work your wet cunt on his dick until he’s buried fully inside your pulsing heat.

“Needed this,” he groans, rutting his cock slowly in and out of your pussy, “needed to be inside of you, a part of you.”

Pleasure washes over you like the tide meeting the shore. Leon’s cock grinds against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt making you ooze slick until it’s dripping down his balls, leaving a creamy ring around the base of his dick.

With a small shift, he rolls you completely over onto your back, body weight pressing you down into the mattress as he fucks in deeper inside your fluttering pussy. His pelvis grinds down onto your pudgy clit sending little bolts of desire throughout your whole body.

“Leon, so good,” you whimper, fingers grasping at his biceps, hips rolling forward to keep his dick inside you, leaking tip pressed against your cervix.

“Taking me so well, a perfect fit,” he kisses you gently, sucking your tongue into his mouth, teeth nicking the muscle causing blood to flavor your kisses.

Moaning hungrily, Leon gets rougher, mouth pressing against yours so tightly your teeth ache. A high keening cry slips out between the bruising press of Leon’s lips against yours. Pulling away, he growls and drags his mouth to your neck, lathing his tongue against the multitude of wounds he left earlier.

“So tight around me, are you getting close, little love?” He chuckles and teases your neck with his teeth making you keen and squirm against him.

“Yes, please, ‘m close,” you moan, legs coming up to wrap tightly around his waist, “w’nna cum, wanna feel you inside me.”

Leon hums and swivels his hips, rutting his cock into your cunt without pulling out until you’re clawing at his back with short choked off whines. He grinds against your clit until your eyes roll back into your head.

His teeth sink into your neck one last time, pushing you over the edge for the second time as your orgasm crashes through your body. Crying out, your arms and legs lock around Leon’s body, head thrown back as your cunt clenches around his dick.

“So lovely,” he pulls back, licking the blood away from your neck, “my perfect bride.”

He rabbits his hips into your squelching cunt until finally stilling, cock buried balls deep inside your spasming pussy as you milk his throbbing dick. Your pussy walls flutter and clamp down around him as he spills hot and sticky inside your slick heat.

“Beautiful,” he kisses your earlobe with a sigh, cock kicking inside your pussy as he finishes painting your walls white.

Endorphins make you dizzy and bubbly, smiling up at Leon’s blood stained face as he gazes lovingly down at you.

“My husband,” you murmur, lovesick and sweet, hands coming up to caress his face and he kisses each of your palms.

“All yours,” he promises seriously, “there is a reason why all things are as they are.”

You laugh and smooth a thumb under his eye, “You’re so cute.”

He snorts a laugh, delighting you immensely, and settles down into the messy sheets before pulling you into his chest.

With a soft kiss placed atop his heart, you snuggle into his body until he wraps his arms around you. The soft rise and fall of his chest lulls you to sleep.

Talking to Lara the next day is surprisingly easy. You have the feeling Leon used some weird vampire energy on her since she seemed unusually chill about it. Promising you that she’ll keep in touch once she heads back home, you spend the few short hours she has left together before she leaves early for the airport.

It’s sad to see her go, but with Leon’s steady presence next to you filling your senses with that wonderful smell of cloves and cedar, you have zero regret in staying.

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #12 days of smutmas #smutmas 2023 #ao3rex #vampire leon kennedy #vampire!leon kennedy #vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader #vampire!leon kennedy smut #vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader smut #vampire!leon s kennedy #vampire!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #vampire!leon s kennedy smut #vampire!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #au

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see-arcane · 2 years

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Jonathan Harker: The ‘Absolute Love Corrupts Absolutely’ Villain That Almost Was*

*LONG before Francis Ford Coppola’s Cinematic Gary Oldman Fanfiction

Spoilers ahead for the Dracula Daily enjoyers, because I’m whipping out all my literary receipts on this.

I recently finished speed-rereading Dracula because I have no self-control. In doing so, I got a refresher on quite a few incendiary factors of the book that time had dulled in my memory.

1. There’s a TON of ‘I’m not like other girls!’ and ‘men good, women dainty,’ and ‘What no I’m not projecting, honest, I just really like the words manful, voluptuous, manful, aquiline, manful, God, and manful again. –Bramothy Stoker,’ so brace for that from basically the whole cast. I’m blaming it partly on Bram Flakes’ own prejudices, of which there are plenty, and the fact that he’d clearly never met a thesaurus in his life.

(I appreciate everyone’s mental revamp of Mina as the New Woman to Lucy’s Classic Damsel, but…oof. Everyone’s in for a harsh Period/Stoker Accurate reminder.)

2. Brammy Pajamas was either hanging around some exceptionally devout Christians to write some of the second/third act scenes with everyone basically thrashing and wailing and falling on their knees and clasping/kissing hands as they pray to/thank God, all while thinking it was perfectly natural behavior for these characters…or he legit had no clue how any kind of ordinary human being, Christian or otherwise, would react to the situations he puts them in.

(Seriously, it’s not even that everyone’s devout, it’s that they’re all written to act like they’re in a soap opera where the only direction they got was to be as hammy and histrionic as physically possible. You’ll know the scenes when you see them.)

3. Jonathan Harker has not only been done dirty by every adaptation since the book in terms of being a main character, along with being the character to spend the most time with Dracula in close quarters, period, and being the love interest for Mina—his whole character arc by the second half of the book is the most blazing hot, “If my beloved is destined for damnation, I’m heading to Hell with her, fuck all else,” shit I have ever read in classic literature, full stop.

Not Dracula. Not any character based on Dracula.

Jonathan fucking Harker is the OG archetype for Love Corrupts (Violently), and the canon story avoided him going full tragic villain by t h i s much. You want proof? Let’s go.

NOTE: MAIN SPOILERS STRAIGHT FROM THE BOOK, SHIELD YOUR EYES

Here’s the part most Harker fans scream over, myself included:

“To one thing I have made up my mind: if we find out that Mina must be a vampire in the end, then she shall not go into that unknown and terrible land alone. I suppose it is thus that in old times one vampire meant many; just as their hideous bodies could only rest in sacred earth, so the holiest love was the recruiting sergeant for their ghastly ranks.”

Good shit, good shit! Jonathan was already prepared to risk falling to his death from a cliff or being eaten by wolves rather than stay in Castle Dracula for a bloodthirsty eternity with the ladies. But now? Mina is quite literally his, “You are worth Hell,” Beloved. But there’s more. Fast forward to one of Team Fuck-Up-That-Old-Undead-Man’s first head-on encounters with the Count. As they’re waiting, Jonathan gets impatient, declaring:

“I care for nothing now,” he answered hotly, “except to wipe out this brute from the face of creation. I would sell my own soul to do it!”

He says as much in front of his Christian+ buddies who, by now, had pretty fair reasons to believe in the legitimacy of Hell and all its demons. Van Helsing is definitely startled and seemingly talks him down from such an oath. Key word being seemingly. Because we jump forward again to a point where Mina, in full saintly forgiveness mode (and apparently selectively forgetting Van Helsing’s history lesson about Dracula’s pre-vampire days being ones of a slaughtering tyrant), saying that if/when they destroy the Count, oh, how happy his soul will be to be free of his torment on Earth, et cetera. Jonathan Harker has a rebuttal to share. Namely:

“May God give him into my hand just for long enough to destroy that earthly life of him which we are aiming at. If beyond that I could send his soul forever and ever to burning hell I would do it!”

God forgives. Jonathan Harker emphatically does not.

Onward again, and he speaks volumes by what he does not say. Chiefly, there’s a point where Mina, now in full martyr preparation should the worst happen, makes the boys swear an oath to destroy her body if/when she succumbs and dies to Dracula’s vampiric poisoning so she cannot rise again as one of his ladies. The boys swear. Mostly. What we get from Jonathan is…

“And must I, too, make such a promise, oh, my wife?”

“You too, my dearest.” (Note: The rest of her paragraph here is full of the most knife-twisting, utterly warped martyr ‘pep talk’ I’ve ever read, and I have no idea how she/Bramarama thought it would remotely convince Jonathan this was all a reasonable and chill thing she was talking about. Anyway.)

It’s important to note that absolutely nowhere in the ensuing text does Jonathan ever speak the promise out loud. He does read the goddamn Burial Service at Mina’s request, which he barely chokes his way through. But he never makes the oath.

Another jump ahead. They are on the hunt for Dracula and, alas, have just missed him at a key point. Most of the gang are shaking their fists at the sky, cursing up and down. And what is Jonathan doing? Well, to quote Jack Seward, just before the epiphany…

“We men were all in a fever of excitement, except Harker, who is calm; his hands are as cold as ice, and an hour ago I found him whetting the edge of the great Ghoorka knife which he now always carries with him. It will be a bad look-out for the Count if the edge of that ‘Kukri’ ever touches his throat, driven by that stern, ice-cold hand!”

And upon discovery of the Count slipping them…

“Harker smiled—actually smiled—the dark bitter smile of one who is without hope; but at the same time his action belied his words, for his hands instinctively sought the hilt of the great Kukri knife and rested there.”

For context, by this point Jonathan had already come at Dracula with said Kukri knife a while back, having nearly landed the blow after charging out of the pack and nearly fucking gutting the Count. For extra context, this is a Kukri knife:

He’s just been walking around with that. For half the book. Plotting.

And, with all of this in mind, we can only assume Jonathan had two plans of action in mind.

Plan A, follow Van Helsing’s lead.

…Not counting the moment he almost bit the Professor’s head off for saying he had to bring Mina along with him to Castle Dracula. Another good scene which includes his very succinct reaction to Van Helsing’s suggestion, even if he does have to agree in the end:

“Not for the world! Not for Heaven or Hell!”

Anyway. If the plan works out, cool. He gets to kill Dracula, Mina is saved. Best case scenario!

But then there’s the unspoken, explicitly unwritten (in case his pages need to be read), but heavily foreshadowed Plan B. They cannot destroy the Count, in time or otherwise. Mina is now either a corpse waiting to awake as a vampire, or a vampire already. The others, true to their vow, mean to destroy her.

Jonathan Harker, true only to Mina, in whatever form she may take, still has that Kukri. And the element of surprise. And a full acknowledgment of the realities of Heaven, Hell, and his holding Mina’s continued existence above them, his friends, his sanity, his humanity, and himself.

In short, all your tragically romantic Draculas can kindly go fuck themselves with a wooden stake. Jonathan Harker is the first and best gothic horror example of a person in love to the point of madness, damnation, and willingness to deceive or destroy anyone who would endanger the one he loves. The only reason we never got to see it in action was because Stoker had to tack on a happy ending. If he hadn’t?

The census would be less four unsuspecting heroes and plus two newlywed vampires.

The End.

Suck on it, Francis.

#Jonathan Harker is a good boy a lovely young man and he Can and Will Kill for His Wife :) :) :)#seriously there's a whole other essay to go with how gloriously fucked up-passionate this stance is within both the time it was written #and the novel itself which is SATURATED with God Christ and more God #for this fucker to have gone through what he did in the castle on top of all the very clear proofs of divine VS infernal goings-on #this dude is flipping the bird to all of it #the whole mess (be it of God or the Devil or fucking Dracula)#none of it ranks higher than Mina in his mind #my guy is fucked up and I love him #jonathan harker #dracula #mina murray #mina harker #dracula daily #spoilers

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pinkiepiebones · 7 months

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Man I don't even know I just had a sudden burst of inspiration. Another "Robert trying to recover memories" ficlet thing. Very brief sex mention.

Being free from Dracula's hold was continually proving beneficial to Robert's well-being. "It feels foolish to report such a thing," Robert scribbled down in his journal, "but every now and then I say or do something that reminds me- I am free of his spell. I am becoming myself again."

Robert looks at his writing and frowns.

"But I don't remember who I was," he adds. "Small memories appear in sudden bursts, but there is no connective tissue."

Robert closes his journal and looks out the window. It's midday, but the storm clouds outside plunged the world into shades of night. He stood up and stretched and thought about picking up his half-finished knitting project again when his wife's name flashed in his mind.

Right. He had been married. Been a father.

Robert hurriedly sat back down and scrawled

"Wife's name- Catherine Elizabeth? Or Elizabeth Catherine? Unsure as of now."

He sets his pen aside but leaves the journal open. He stares at the expanse of blank page, concentrating.

Lillian. His daughter. Her middle name was her mother's first name.

He remembers calling out from the porch (what sort of house had I owned?) when it grew dark and Lillian had not come home from playing with friends (did I have friends as well?)

"Lillian Elizabeth Renfield," Robert called loud enough so his daughter would hear him, but not so loud as to upset the gentle calm of the summer night. It was one of the few times when work had him in the office, not traveling, and he was home by nightfall. While Elizabeth put the finishing touches on dinner, Robert could step out and bask in the warm summer air.

Several laughing children emerged from a field just beyond the reach of the streetlamp's flickering glow and scattered to their respective homes. Lillian toddled happily up to her father and he lifted her into his arms.

"And what were you doing that has gotten mud on your face, my angel?" Robert tries to scold. He really does. He sets her down and kneels, pulls out his handkerchief and rubs at Lillian's face. She giggles and squirms.

"We were playing dragons, daddy," she explains. "It was my turn to be the dragon and all the knights tried to slay me with their swords but I was too fast. And then Thomas threw a mud ball at me! That's cheating, isn't it?"

"I should say so!" Robert agrees. He pockets his dirtied kerchief and sighs. "You know your mother doesn't like it when you play rough in your nice dress, Lily," he said, trying his damnedest to be tough.

"But I didn't!" Lillian argues. "I didn't even hit Thomas even though I would have been just-fried!"

Robert looks at his daughter with some concern. "Just- oh, do you mean 'justified?'"

"That is what I said, daddy."

Robert smiles a small smile and stands. "Well, come along. Your mother's got dinner waiting."

There is a tense air in the bedroom. Lillian's finally asleep, after Elizabeth read her three chapters of a new children's book. Robert is sitting at the edge of the bed, buttoning up his nightshirt. Elizabeth is brushing her hair at the vanity.

"Robert," she says, quietly. Robert's breathing hitches.

"Y-yes, dear?"

She turns to face him. "Our daughter told me a boy threw mud at her today."

"S-she told me that as well, yes."

Elizabeth stands up and smooths her hands over her nightgown. "And you did not ask our daughter where this boy lives so that you could have a talk with his father?"

Robert's looks down and swallows. "No, dear."

Elizabeth sighs. "What good is having you at home if you don't act as a father should?" She sits beside him on the edge of their bed. "Neither of us wished to be married, but we are, and we have a child. We must both act according to our roles, Robert."

Robert nods. "Y-yes, ma'am."

Elizabeth looks at him, bewildered. "Did you just call me 'ma'am'?" She scoffs. "I am not that old. I ought to slap you."

Robert feels something, some mix of wonder and dread, bubble up inside him. Very softly, he asks,

"What's stopping you?"

Elizabeth stands and Robert looks up and she slaps him across the face.

They stare at each other for a long moment. Then Elizabeth and Robert tumble to the bed, kissing and pulling at each other's bedclothes with a passion that had until that instant been missing from their marriage. Soon Elizabeth is above him and he is inside her and she puts her hands around his neck.

"Quiet," she hisses, and he whimpers.

"Yes, dear."

---

In the morning neither of them speak about it. Elizabeth gets dressed early and pins her hair and says simply, "I am taking Lillian to church. I will be praying for my soul and yours."

Robert gets out of bed to kiss her goodbye but she leans away from his touch. There is shame in her eyes.

He is alone in their home. He looks at himself in his shaving mirror and sees a collar of bruises at his neck. It will be hidden from the world by his work clothes. But he will know the marks are there.

He smiles.

----

Robert is startled back to the present when a thunderclap announces the arrival of rain outside his window.

He picks up his pen and writes,

"Also: I think I was submissive well before I met Dracula. If nothing else I was a stereotypical repressed Victorian man." He makes an attempt to draw the laughter emoji beside this sentence. He smiles as he does so.

#renfield #microfic

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ronnymerchant · 10 months

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DRACULA , THE DIRTY OLD MAN (1969)

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ronmerchant · 3 months

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DRACULA, THE DIRTY OLD MAN (1969)

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spider-xan · 1 year

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A dreadful ferryman looks after the river crossing, Charon : appalling filthy he is, with a bush of unkempt white beard upon his chin, with eyes like jets of fire; and a dirty cloak draggles down, knotted about his shoulders. He poles the boat, he looks after the sails, he is all the crew of that rust-coloured wherry which takes the dead across--an ancient now, but a god's old age is green and sappy.

This is a passage from the Day-Lewis translation of Vergil's Aeneid, as I have been thinking about this post by @thegoatsongs about Jonathan and Arthur's journey on the river being like a katabasis, ie. the descent of the heroes into the Underworld in Classical mythology, though they themselves also play the role of Charon the ferryman and symbolize death.

Unlike Charon, they are wearing new fur coats and steering a modern steam launch, but otherwise, the imagery very much fits Jonathan, especially in terms of what the Romanians must be seeing at night when they turn on their electric lamp, like in this artwork by @mayhemchicken-artblog; in fact, here is Jack's description of Jonathan on October 3 after the blood baptism:

The poor fellow is overwhelmed in a misery that is appalling to see. Last night he was a frank, happy-looking man, with strong, youthful face, full of energy, and with dark brown hair. To-day he is a drawn, haggard old man, whose white hair matches well with the hollow burning eyes and grief-written lines of his face. His energy is still intact; in fact, he is like a living flame.

White hair, burning eyes of fire, looks like an ancient old man, but is full of youthful energy? That describes both Jonathan and Charon, and like Charon, the ferryman of dead souls to the afterlife, Jonathan is seeking to bring Dracula, who has been (un)dead and wandering the earth for centuries, over to the land of the dead where he rightfully belongs, despite his denial of the natural order of the world where all mortal souls must eventually pass on, as only the gods can live forever, and to defy that is hybris, in the Ancient Greek sense of the word.

Also, if you enjoy speculating that Jonathan may not be entirely human anymore, or the possibility of his becoming a vampire himself, consider how he would fit this specific description of Charon even more closely if he were to be immortal and wander the rivers at night forever, eventually growing a white beard, his fur coat rotting into a ragged cloak, manning the boat alone after Arthur is long gone, and slowly gliding over the dark water with a pole once the furnace can no longer burn its own fire.

#dracula #dracula daily #jonathan harker #the aeneid

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bookgeekgrrl · 7 months

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My media this week (1-7 Oct 2023)

📚 STUFF I READ 📚

🙂 Under Alien Skies: A Sightseer's Guide to the Universe (Phil Plait, author & narrator) - The Bad Astronomer paints pictures of what the sky would look like standing on the surface of other planets, asteroids, etc.

😊 Initiation (Sex Wizards #1) (Alethea Faust) - erotic BDSM fantasy - actually a bit more plot & worldbuilding than I was expecting tbh, entertaining

😞 Miss Aldridge Regrets (Canary Club Mystery #1) (Louise Hare, author; Georgina Campbell, narrator) - This isn't a mystery the MC investigates, it's a mystery that happens TO her. She was tediously passive, seeming really rather naïve & foolish (esp given her age and life experience) and entirely in denial about pretty much everything that happens to her (since she's being actively framed for murder). However, the very short interval chapters from the killer's perspective did hook my interest and left me genuinely curious about the mystery. At about 44% I jumped to the end to see how the mystery resolved. I'm counting it as read since I did read over 50% of it.

😍 A Most Agreeable Murder (Julia Seales, author; Fiona Hampton, narrator) - comical pastiche/parody mashup of: Jane Austen (specifically), regency-set/gothic novels (in general) & Agatha Christie/country house mysteries - funny & entertaining, deftly done. Very Nightmare Abbey vibes in the absolute best way. I enjoyed all the caricature characters but 'overlooked tedious (but secretly a [redacted]) sister' Mary was my fave, absolute gothic queen

💖💖 +94K of shorter fic so shout out to these I really loved 💖💖

I'm dating the least inquisitive man in Ottawa (GlitterCity) - Rachel Reid's Game Changers: Troy Barrett/Harris Drover (but really mostly gen), 4K - cute, really nailed the character voices

Tinder Is the Night (rohkeutta) - MCU: stucky, 6K - hilarious, forever fave [reread]

Stay (fandomfluffandfuck) - MCU: stucky, 31K - silver fox/old guard Dom Steve subbing for newbie Dom Bucky - great character voices, hot af sex!

bitten hand guides best (frankoceansmoonriver) - The Witcher: Geraskier, 33K - lovely little fic with werewolf!Jaskier & witcher Geralt

📺 STUFF I WATCHED 📺

Make Some Noise - s2, e1

Dirty Laundry - s3, e2

Only Murders In The Building - s3, e10

Deadloch - s1, e1-8

Our Flag Means Death - s2, e1-3

D20: Burrow's End - "The Red Warren" (s20, e1)

D20: Adventuring Party - "Stoatal Recall" (s15, e1)

🎧 PODCASTS 🎧

Re: Dracula - October 1: Not My Own Master In The Matter

Welcome to Night Vale #235 - Book Club

What Next: TBD - Inside Crypto's House of Cards

Re: Dracula - October 2: Play for the Stake of Human Souls

⭐ The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Searching for Squids with Dr. Sarah McAnulty

Ed Zitron's 15 Minutes In Hell - Episode 9 - David Roth

Re: Dracula - October 3: The Holiest Love

Into It - Tech Bros Laid the Foundation, but Women Built Social Media

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Enchanted Woods

Switched on Pop - In Defense of Crunk

Re: Dracula - October 4: It Is Like Death

Vibe Check - Freedom, Cut Me Loose!

The Atlas Obscura Podcast - Baobab Fare

⭐ Shedunnit - Agatha and Plum

Twenty Thousand Hertz+ - Wilhelm Scream Remix

⭐ Song Exploder - Alvvays "Archie, Marry Me"

Re: Dracula - October 5: Baptism of Blood

Today, Explained - Caste away

Re: Dracula - October 6: My Affairs of Earth

Dear Prudence - My Girlfriend Is Always Late! Help!

Endless Thread - Find A Grave: Social Media Icon

Into It - Are Bed Bugs and Katy Perry Out for Blood?

Today, Explained - Who shot ya, Tupac?

Switched on Pop - Metro Boomin Wants Some More

ICYMI - Stop Snitching on Main

⭐ One Year - 1955: The Hiroshima Maidens

🎶 MUSIC 🎶

Troubadours From the Tribe

Alternative Radio • 2000s

Foundations of Metal

Rob Zombie Radio • 2000s • Familiar

Metal Radio • 1980s

Manowar Radio

"Give It Away" [RHCP] Radio • Familiar

Stand And Deliver: The Very Best of Adam & The Ants {1999}

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agentnico · 8 months

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Sympathy for the Devil (2023) Review

It's Collateral in the desert, with the Cruise out and in with the Cage.

Plot: After being forced to drive a mysterious passenger at gunpoint, a man finds himself in a high-stakes game of cat and mouse where it becomes clear that not everything is as it seems.

I do hold a special place in my heart for the acting enigma that is Nicolas Cage. He's truly like no one else, with his over-acting techniques and outrageous performances consistently being enjoyable and interesting to watch, even if he is stuck in a dumpster fire of a movie, and boy there are many turkeys on his filmography! Lately, however, Nicolas Cage has been actually allowed to appear in some solid films, with the wonderfully weird psychological hallucinogenic trip in 2018's Mandy where Cage loses more shit than he usually does; to the hilarious 2022 flick The Unbearable Weight of Massive Talent where Cage played himself and gave us the best friend duo we never thought we needed in himself and Pedro Pascal; and this year appearing as Dracula in Renfield. Yep, there was also that Western dud earlier this year called The Old Way which was the most boring interpretation of the Wild West possible where even Cage was on low form, but the less we mention that the better. Be sure to look out for my Top 10 Worst Movies of 2023 list end of the year - The Old Way will surely be making an appearance. Anyway, enough with the shameless self-marketing of my own blog - let's discuss the new Nicolas Cage movie that's gracing our screens!

Sympathy for the Devil is a very by-the-numbers kidnapping movie, that is definitely inspired by the Michael Mann 2004 thriller Collateral, which involves cab driver Jamie Foxx driving around Tom Cruise's assassin as he completes his dirty work. Thrilling movie by the way - can recommend it! As for Sympathy for the Devil, there is nothing new here or original. There's some fun camerawork taking advantage of the neo-noir lighting of Las Vegas at night, and most of the events that transpire are in this one car with these two characters was simplistic yet director Yuval Adler managed to keep this limited setting engaging. Reminded me a bit of that Tom Hardy 2013 drama Locke where he spends the entire movie driving his car and talking to folks on the phone. The script however is very weak, and the twist at the end of the film is extremely predictable, so the movie sorely relies upon its two central performances.

Luckily the two lead actors do solid work. Nicolas Cage is given yet another shot to give an unhinged crazy performance as the maniacal stranger, and he's given a physical makeover too with red dyed hair and a flashy red suit jacket. A lot of the film is spent on him giving out goofy line readings and monologues while rolling his googly eyes and being general Rage Cage. Joel Kinnaman brings vulnerability and humanity as the innocent driver who simply wants to get to the hospital to his wife who is giving birth to his third child. Kinnaman especially can be a very intimidating and strong presence as he's done before in The Suicide Squad as soldier Rick Flag, so seeing him here stripped down was definitely an interesting casting choice.

Overall Sympathy for the Devil is not particularly memorable, with there being no devil in the details of the script. However if you want another excuse to watch Nicolas Cage do his maddenic lunatic thing, then it will be an enjoyable 90 minutes to pass the time. Can't say I'm not a little disappointed - the trailer made the movie seem like much more of a deranged experience than what the final product turned out to be. Ah well, no sympathies for the devil this time around.

Overall score: 5/10

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picklepie888 · 2 years

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Dracula (1931) movie review by someone who's been reading Dracula Daily

So, a few days ago I watched the 1931 Dracula film. The one with Bela Legosi. I had actually seen the movie before several years ago, but I didn't remember very much of it, and of course I hadn't read the book back then. Now that I've been doing Dracula Daily, let me give my thoughts on the film. SPOILERS FOR THE MOVIE AND IF YOU'RE NOT CAUGHT UP ON DRACULA DAILY

The thing that made me the most mad about this adaptation is that Lucy's storyline is just glossed over. Like, she appeared in literally one scene, and then in the next the doctors are over her body and declare her dead. That's it! No emotional impact whatsoever! Lucy has maybe two minutes of screentime at most, and her death does not effect the other characters at all. It's like she was an afterthought on the writers' part. Like they're making the script and someone was like 'oh wasn't there like that one girl that Dracula kills? Maybe we should mention that somewhere.' 'Ok, Joe we'll get a girl off the street to do the scene before lunch.' It was so infuriating! In the book, Lucy's death was the driving force that lead the main characters to hunt Dracula down. She was so beloved by all the characters, but here??? She's just another nameless victim of the vampire.

Ok, now that I got the factor I hated the most out of the way, I'll bring up my second most hated. Mina's entire character has been reduced to the typical damsel-in-distress archetype. She's no longer the courageous, intelligent, gender nonconforming woman she is in the original story. Instead they made her the same helpless, screaming woman that they show in every horror film in the 30's. Just about every scene she's in, she's crying or screaming her husband's name or being under the complete control of Dracula. She has no agency, and she doesn't do anything to drive the plot forward. My point is the female characters were done dirty this movie.

Arthur and Quincey are completely omitted. No fun cowboy or rich some guy shenanigans to be found here.

Jack Seward is an old man, and about the same age as Van Helsing, which completely changes the dynamic between the two. Instead of having a teacher-mentor relationship with a very strong familial bond, instead they just sorta act like business partners??? Like, if I hadn't read the book I wouldn't have any idea that these two were supposed to have a close friendship. Also they made him Mina's father for some reason???

Bela Lugosi as Dracula and Dwight Frye as Renfield were by far the most entertaining aspects of the movie. Lugosi does a legitimatly good job portraying such a creepy and otherworldly character, and I can see why this is his most famous film role. And Frye's performance as Renfield, I'd argue is even creepier. He makes a very good madman. But as good as these actors were, my biggest gripe is that their characters got WAY too much screentime. The filmmakers decided to give all the spotlight to the villains when they should've focused more on Jonathan and Mina. Or, ya know, LUCY!!!

As for Jonathan, his character was fine I guess. They kinda watered him down to just the concerned husband who has to save his screaming helpless wife. At least he actually cares about Mina, and they didn't make him a heartless douche like in some adaptations. Still, he's pretty bland, which is sad because he had such a rich character in the book.

Van Helsing was also fine. He was basically the only character who moved the plot forward. His interactions with Dracula were also pretty cool, and the two had the sort of nemesis chemistry that became iconic in later adaptations of Dracula. Still wish they had given that same kind of chemistry with the other characters.

The sets in this movie were great! The castle at the start of the film is like something out of a nightmare, and it sets the mood for the whole film. There's also the lack of a music score, which makes the film all the more unsettling. I'll give the filmmakers props for that.

I did not care for how they did Renfield's death in this movie. They still had him betray Dracula to protect Mina, but they had him die begging for mercy and pledging his loyalty to Dracula. They made him die a coward instead of fighting the bat bitch himself like a Chad. RIP Renfield, you did not deserve to be disrespected like this.

The pacing of this movie was really weird?? The runtime is under 80 minutes, which is no where near enough to cover all the plot points from the OG story. So they just kinda move from one plot point to the next w/o much of a transition. Like the whole thing with Lucy. And even Dracula's attack on Mina happened offscreen and was only mentioned by the characters later. I really wish they had made this a series of movies instead of compiling everything into an hour.

Overall, its a fine movie on its own. But as an adaptation of Dracula? Awful. At least there's no Dracmina romance subplot in this version. But they basically watered down every character to fit a horror film archetype, and put way too much focus on the villains instead of the main characters. 4/10

#dracula daily #dracula #dracula spoilers #movie review #dracula daily spoilers #bela lugosi #jonathan harker #mina harker #lucy westenra #abraham van helsing #jack seward #rm renfield #dracula adaptations

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eolewyn1010 · 2 years

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Back to sympathizing with Mina as she has sleeping issues. Don't I know the drill. She describes how she woke up at night to find her girlfriend gone; Lucy has finally managed to sleepwalk out of her room. Only in a nightdress, too, lest we forget that Dracula is an Evil Foreign Pervert Who Lusts After White Women. Anyway, so Mina runs out into the night panicking and searching for Lucy. Dramatically Appropriate weather gives us heavy clouds and, of course, a goddamn full moon. Funnily enough, this is only one day off from the actual August full moon in 1897. I can respect that. Very scenic, as usual. Lucy sits in their favorite spot on the churchyard in the moonlight like she's a Caspar David Friedrich painting, and Dracula lurks over her, although he takes flight before Mina reaches her girlfriend, not without giving Mina the stink eye.

The sentence "When I bent over her, I could see that she was still asleep" invites me to make another very inappropriate queer dreams joke, but Mina is quite the sweetheart, making sure to get Lucy warm and being careful to not scare her when waking her up. Lucy sighs and moans in her sleep tho. Dracula is a dirty old man. And Mina is back to telling us of Lucy's pretty and grace, because whatever is appropriate timing? Nightly walk home, clutching to each other - what grim romance in these trying times. Also, Mina is super worried about Lucy's reputation? I suppose that's a Victorian thing; going out at night in insufficient clothing probably equals banging half the harbor's fishermen or something. The other morning, Mina finds punctures on Lucy's neck, assuming she hurt her with a safety pin when she wrapped her up in a shawl in the churchyard. Welp. Lucy is officially a snack now. It seems she can sleep better after Dracula has had a sip; he might leave her alone for a few nights now? Hopefully?

#Dracula Daily #does Dracula get some kind of weird kick out of drinking Lucy on a churchyard?#her backyard would have been just fine too

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somethingsupwithdrac · 2 years

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25 June

Things are still not okay, but my good friend Jonathan seems to have reached a point where he’s been so overloaded by fear and despair that he’s just kind of burnt all of that out and passed through the other side to a sort of calm determination. A calm determination that leads him to climb out a window hundreds of meters above a cliff and down a sheer stone wall. The realization that he has nothing left to lose by trying except his life, and that dying this way, as a man, is far from the worst fate he could have and is better than dying like an animal slaughtered by Dracula. At least if he dies this way he still keeps the thing that makes him him and has a chance at the afterlife. Determined to at least try to find a way out, he writes goodbyes to both his dear Mina and his friend/mentor just in case he fails, even though he knows that they’ll never see them.

Oh, Jonathan.

Later in the day, Jonathan is back! He’s done some exploring and found some things! He managed to climb down using the spaces between stones where mortar had worn away as hand- and footholds, which, as someone with a fear of heights, makes me anxious just to read about. Climbing down to the Count’s window is a risky move, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and there are fewer more desperate times than this one. Luckily the Count isn’t there, but a large pile of assorted currency is.

“gold of all kinds, Roman, and British, and Austrian, and Hungarian, and Greek and Turkish money, covered with a film of dust, as though it had lain long in the ground. None of it that I noticed was less than three hundred years old. “

This really drives home just how old Dracula is: clearly he’s been around long enough to amass coins from all of these empires from multiple centuries and parts of Europe. Everything else in the room is also obviously quite aged and tarnished or dirty, as though it’s been sitting around for, again, multiple centuries.

He manages to find an open door, and a passage downward, and finds himself in an old chapel which has been used as a burial chamber, where, amongst all of the other old coffins and vaults, lie the many boxes of earth delivered earlier. In one of those, to Jonathan’s shock and horror, lies the Count, still as death, open-eyed, apparently in some kind of sleeping state and clearly having only recently laid down there. Jonathan flees from this terrible sight and rushes back to his room the same way he came to try to think about all of this.

I have to say that IDK if I would be holding it together nearly as well as he is here. The poor man already has clear evidence that the Count is absolutely not human, and now he finds Dracula just chilling in a box full of dirt in a crypt, sleeping with his eyes open and definitely exhibiting signs of some kind of undead state, and still he has the courage to go back to his room and continue attempting to plan instead of just giving up. This is some progress, at least! Not sure it does much good, but this is at least new information to add to his planning.

#dracula daily #my good friend jonathan harker #everything is not fine #but it's looking somewhat less bleak finally

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