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moonsun2010 · 6 months

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Made an animatic summarising the entire book as a tribute to Dracula Daily and @re-dracula ! English subtitles provided, with translation by me and @ignitingthesky.

if you like this, do check out my kofi! there's a free pack of every single frame

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jaggedcliffs · 6 months

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Reading the title of Nov. 4th's Re: Dracula entry, "My Jonathan," and thinking, oh that's sweet! it seems like it'll have a bit about how dear Jonathan is to Mina :)

But then coming to the passage where Mina says it, but it's Dracula's voice chillingly doubled underneath Mina's, so it's really:

#dracula #re: dracula #mina harker #jonathan harker #jagged posts about dracula #re: dracula really going for some good stuff here I'm a fan #(especially since I've started listening to their playlist on spotify and those are some Choices)#if you're wonder no I don't remember the nov. 4th entry from dracula daily so I was blindsided

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lonestarflight · 6 months

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Concept art of the Space Shuttle returning from Space.

Artwork by G. Harry Stine

Date: 1978

Posted on Flickr by Numbers Station: link, link

#Space Shuttle #Orbiter #NASA #Space Shuttle Program #re-entry #space #earth #concept art #artwork #1978 #undated #my post

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drac-kool-aid · 8 months

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Seward's bone deep desire to run away from the asylum is not exactly surprising. There have been a lot of really good meta posts about how the return of Van Helsing into his life is the turning point where we see the caring and good side of him and how we can interpret his life as a student in Amersterdam as one of freedom and happiness. How he is part of the tragedy of manners, how strict social expectations allow Dracula to persist, and how they only exacerbate the unhappiness of the characters.

And I think the tragedy of Seward is that, really, he should not be the head of an asylum. It's a job that brings him no joy, and he's BAD at it. We can all recognize that if your first reaction to going back to work is "What if I just leave it all." That isn't a healthy work environment.

Now, in the modern day, the ability to pick and choose a work environment, even to leave one that is damaging your mental health, is a privilege. (IT SHOULDNT BE, but it is). And, although it is definitely reaching crisis levels in modern times, major changes in your career have almost always been difficult (unless you are really rich, or a particular brand of academic in the 17th-18th century, or both).

Seward can't just leave and become a surgeon. To give up the lofty position of "Head of an Asylum" would be unthinkable in the 1890s, especially for a reason like "Being here is basically turning me into the Joker." Like, how would Seward explain that in polite society? Would they accept that reasoning? Would they create salacious gossip if they didn't? Can Seward leave his position without losing a great amount of social capital?

Probably not.

His rise to head of an asylum, as many have pointed out, was meteoric, to say the least. It has afforded him status and respect and also left him deeply, deeply fucked up. And he can't leave!

I think his desperate attempts to quantify Renfield's behaviors into a new mental illness are telling in this regard. Maybe he is too used to having to meet some sort of expectation, and now he thinks this is the logical next step (It's NOT, but I digress). The feeling of having to keep performing above expectations, grasping at straws to do so, and subsequently burning oneself out (as well as others around you) and engaging in unethical practices? Idk. It sounds like something that would happen today. (tbh there are probably a ton of Sewards out there today, as there are still systemic problems within the mental health system that allow for the dehumanizing and abuse of patients).

It doesn't excuse his behavior. Nothing he does to Renfield is excusable, but I think it does explain some of the *why*. He isn't just cruel for cruelty's sake.

So, tldr I guess: I think reading Seward as someone who got stuck on a career path that he realized was unfufilling and that he ends up hating. Social conventions restrict him from just quitting without and a (socially acceptable) good reason to do so, and a lifetime of being regarded as one of the smartest people in the room means he can not allow himself to fail. Unfortunately, this also means he can not admit when his actions or his ideas are wrong when it comes to his job.

(But he can show that uncertainty FOR Lucy, and TO Arthur and Van Helsing, which speaks his trust and love for them)

#dracula daily #jack seward #re: dracula #i think im rambling #but this kind of hit me #Jack's trapped in the asylum too in a way #only difference is his place of power allows him to take out that frustration on others #and i think it speaks VOLUMES that one of Jack's first entries was about how he regretted exacerbating Renfield just to study him #and as the sleepless nights and days filled of performing a job that he hates (and cannot bring himself to admit he hates)#as well as the depression from rejection #he stops feeling guilty

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burekstation · 8 months

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anyway happy anniversary Jonathan and Mina Harker for their Not Dream Wedding at a Catholic hospital in Hungary on a sickbed surrounded by strangers as their only witnesses and yet it still being the happiest day of their lives

#there's mooore to say this entry is juicy #but for rn no thoughts only imaginary bells #dracula daily #jonmina #jonathan harker #mina harker #dracula #re: dracula

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afoxdoeswrite · 7 months

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I tend to listen to music when I'm going on walks, but Spotify recommended me that Dracula Daily audiobook version, so I figured I've have a listen. Dracula's pretty cool and all, but I always remember it being super long and kinda hard to read through in anything more than little bits, so I figured 'hey, a daily mini thing might be neat to try'.

It is incredible how that team is able to make things scary. I was walking around in broad daylight on a main road, there were dozens of people all over the place, and somehow I felt so alone listening to it that I got chills. Genuinely brilliant, I'm really impressed and this is definitely going to be my background audio for going on walks for a while now.

#re: dracula #dracula daily #admittedly when i first read dracula i was pretty young #so that might be part of why it was always difficult for me to focus on reading it for more than a couple entries at a time #but listening to it as a podcast is actually working quite nicely #the acting is amazing and i've barely heard any of the cast yet #i'm quite looking forward to more of it

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tteokdoroki · 1 month

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‘Gojo is racist’ ‘gojo is a bad person’ ‘gojo is this’ ‘gojo is that’ did we ever consider that none of what gege has written recently goes past surface level ? he is not a good writer. he has said multiple times he doesn’t care about jjk anymore. there are hardly any deeper meanings to character deaths/actions. he’s just trying to fill the space until the manga can end at an acceptable length ☹️☝️

#i have said a few times he’s not rlly thinking that far ahead or deeply about his characters #i dew not like how he handled Miguel’s re entry at AWL #and if he kills Miguel it’ll be such a waste of a character #why dew this silly flashback (that doesn’t move the story along)#instead of giving him a nice tasty backstory #✧ ₊˚💭੭ — aali just posted

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mercury-sulfide · 7 months

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just shaking thinking about how long that 80-page Dracula Daily entry is going to be in Re: Dracula. But I also can’t remember exactly what day it happens so one of these mornings I’m going to open the podcast for the new entry and get hit with like a two hour update

#I just know ITS SOON RIGHT #dracula daily #re: dracula #would love to hear the behind the scenes on that entry #tbh I doubt it’s two hours but these past few have been about an hour so!!!

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spankerella · 7 months

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Quincey.... outside... shooting at bats... as one does.

As a Texan, I can confirm that this is one of the most Texan things ever.

@re-dracula, today was *chef's kiss*

#dracula daily #re: dracula #bram stoker's dracula #quincey morris #september 30 entry

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bratphilia · 4 months

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── ★ ˙ slice of heaven ̟ !!

pairing ✧.*‎‎ leon s. kennedy x reader

cw ✧.*‎‎ reader is of age, hyperfem, afab!reader, real dad!leon, incest, age difference, oral sex (f receiving)

taglist ✧.*‎‎ @gilfhub @iwantyouinacage @d10nyx @leonspup @snowzbun

synopsis ✧.*‎ your dad comes home from his mission without your mom there for him to go bother.

the sound of the door shutting and a sigh ringing out from the lower level of the house was your cue to get up from bed and close the door to your room. your dad was called into another mission, having to fly out from the town you and your family resided in, to san francisco in order to carry it out. your dad never confided in you about his missions. you just were never close. polar opposites, really. when he wanted to teach you to use a gun, you were more interested in learning how to braid your own hair. it’s not like the two of you didn’t like each other or anything — you got along just fine — it was just something about him that always put you off.

for starters, he isn’t funny. not in the slightest. and the problem with that? he’s a wisecracking-dad-joking-machine. it’s annoying as fuck, the amount of times your eyes can roll until he gets the message. then there’s the part where you’re just not interested in his line of work. something he always wished for in his offspring — someone to take after him, take a liking to serving justice, and that just wasn’t you.

anyways, you always try to avoid your dad.

post-mission. he’s tired, in a pissy mood, fucking horny, and you want no part in that whatsoever. you can hear the bed rocking from downstairs sometimes after a particularly rough work trip, and it’s disturbing to be quite honest. sometimes, the shit he says travels through the vents, words such as “such a good fuckin’ pussy” and “gonna cum buried inside you” and other disgusting utterings you would rather not think about at this current moment. not unless you felt like puking your guts out.

however, this time is unique. your mom is away on a business trip herself. no, not something related to a viral infection, but something a lot more mellow — it’s still important, though. it’s rare that you have the house to yourself for days at a time, but you’ve enjoyed the excuse to do nothing, keeping a promise to leave the house in one piece.

so naturally, your dad is stumbling around downstairs. the telltale sound of the fridge opening and closing, most likely grabbing a beer bottle. you can hear him muttering curses to himself through the thin walls before he flicks on the television, drowning down everything. this is usually the part where you put a vinyl in on your record player and ignore the outside world around you, but you’re interrupted by your dad calling out your mom’s name.

“where the hell are ya?” he calls out once again.

it’s pissing you off. did he forget? you want to call back to him, tell him she still isn’t here, but a wiser person wouldn't disturb him. you did not want to draw any attention to yourself whatsoever. however, the worst case scenario comes true: you can hear footsteps up the stairs. you pray he’s using the bathroom, or going to the guest bedroom, or—

a knock resounds on your door. you bite back a sigh and get up to open it. you’re met with your dad, beer bottle in hand and supporting his weight on his right leg. the smell of alcohol overpowers the natural scent of vanilla your room seems to produce. he clears his throat. “hey kiddo, what’cha doing?”

“nothing,” you say, hoping the frown on your face conveys the message that he should not be still calling you ‘kiddo’ at your big age.

he mockingly pouts. “don’t look so down, kid. dad’s just teasing ya.”

“right,” you say, unamused. “i heard you calling out for mom. she’s still not back from her trip, y’know.”

your dad brushes past you to sit on your bed. he runs a hand through his hair. “right. okay.” he sounds thoroughly disappointed. he sets the beer bottle down on your nightstand, much to your chagrin. he pats a spot next to him on the bed, “c’mere.”

you sit next to him, hugging your knees to your chest and resting your chin on the joints. “how was it? staying home for a ‘lil while?”

“it was fine,” you say, keeping your answer short with disinterest.

“yeah? do anything fun?”

“no.”

"jeez, tough crowd,” he chuckles. you roll your eyes but keep yourself from talking back.

he sighs and nudges you with his arm. “hey, kid, why don’t we get along like we used to?”

“probably because you still call me ‘kid’ while i’m literally an adult,” you deadpan.

“ha-ha. fine, i’ll stop.”

you stubbornly don’t say anything back. he sighs again. “i’m sorry i give you a hard time and stuff. i’m just trying to mess around with you; don’t mean anything by it. i miss being close to you.”

“when have we ever been close?” you huff with a roll of your eyes.

“you kiddin’ me?” he says, not accusatory or anything, with a smile, actually. “remember when we would play baseball outside? or when i would give you piggyback rides n’ run up n’ down the stairs? what about all those batches of cookies we would make?”

“we did all that stuff when i was little,” you grumble. “i’ve changed.”

“right. that was before hello kitty n’ the gang came in your life and took my spot,” he chuckles, grabbing your my melody plush laying on your bed and flipping it over, running his hand over the soft fur absentmindedly. “we could still do that stuff together, y’know.”

“i don’t want to do that stuff,” you say finally.

“what? you like baking cookies, ‘s perfect for this whole coquette thing you got goin’ on,” he says.

you cringe at his use of the word. he’s too old to be using coquette in that context. where did he even learn that? he takes your pout in, your gaze fixed on the ground, and shakes his head. “c’mon, i’m trying here.”

“i can tell,” you grumble bitterly.

he soothes a hand on your back, plays with your hair ‘til it sweeps over the left side of your head, leans close to plant a kiss to your forehead. his arm stays slung over your shoulders. “gimme a break, you little monster.” you can’t help but smile and lean into his touch. when was the last time he held you like this?

then he ruins it when his hand runs down the small of your back and lingers there even when he pulls away to look at you. the way he looks at you is different. it instantly fades your smile, you can’t quite put your finger on what’s weird about it, though. “dad?”

“yes, baby?” he coos, blindly reaches for his beer and takes a long sip. he wipes his mouth with his sleeve when he sets it back down. you shake your head. “you’re so grown up, look just like your mom.”

oh. “in what way?” you hear yourself asking before you can stop yourself. the smile that overtakes leon runs a shiver down your spine.

“c’mere,” he holds his arms out again for you and you hesitantly, stupidly accept his embrace. his hands instantly go to the hem of your babydoll top and reveal your chest to him. you yelp in surprise, but before your arms can cover yourself he grasps them. he lets you go of your wrists, but he’s quicker to grip onto your bare breasts.

“mmm, no bra, sweetheart?” he comments but you’re too shocked to respond. shocked he even laid a hand on you.

he gropes your boobs, the calloused palms of his hands rub deliciously on your sensitive nipples. you’re sick in the head, you decide, absolutely mentally ill, for liking the way your dad is touching you right now. you hum uncontrollably, back twitching sensitively, anything to get away from his grip on you. your dad’s face is one of a kid’s in a candy store. all marveled at everything in front of him.

his thumbs reach out to tease your nipples. they run over the pointed skin and the noises that escape your mouth are absolutely pathetic. “this,” your dad says, “is what i mean.”

“dad,” you sniffle. “dad, stop. this is so wrong.” your hands grab at his wrists but you don’t have it in you to do anything with them. all you do is shut your eyes and let tears water them, hoping he’ll get the message and just stop.

“come on, baby,” you open your eyes and see your dad’s stupid pout. “won’t you let daddy touch his babygirl? i’ll be so gentle. just want us both to feel closer for a few minutes.”

you feel your stomach curl at his phrasing. was this what he had in mind this whole time? it makes you sick. you want to double over and throw up at his shoes right now, and maybe that will get him out of your room for the rest of the night.

“daddy,” you try to speak his language but it only makes things worse as he buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales deeply. “stop, please.”

“c’mon, baby, lemme make you feel good,” he leans up to whisper in your ear. another shiver shoots down your spine and you wordlessly soften at his touch, your permission for him to continue. the truth is, nothing else can settle the ache between your legs that he started by putting his hands on you.

he settles you back onto the bed so that you laying down, both arms wrapped around you so lovingly. all the while he’s pressing kisses to every inch of flesh he can reach. “let’s get these off, ‘kay?” he mutters, hands tugging at the hem of your flimsy shorts. it’s the cute, waffle-knit white pair, with a pretty pink bow in the middle. he slides the material down your legs and you help him by kicking them off. you also take off your top in the process, the fabric is wrinkled from his earlier ministrations.

you didn’t think to wear a bra or panties since you were just lounging around in this outfit, no intentions to go out anywhere, and that went straight to leon’s cock. instantly, his face is pressed to your mound, sniffing you down there, running kisses up your thighs. your legs shake a little and he settles you by pressing your knees to your stomach. “just let daddy take care of you, he’ll kiss it better.”

with that, he presses a kiss to the hood of your clit. warmth dissipates throughout your stomach and tightens. “oh,” you moan out. your dad suckles on the sensitive area, expertly runs his tongue along it. you, with the limited experience you’ve had, can’t believe the attention you’re getting from him. you never even expected your dad to be capable of doing this.

it’s your intoxicating scent that pulls him back in for more, though. the way you internally have to wrestle yourself, he notices, to stay composed is just so adorable. the taboo-ness of it all fills leon with a sick sense of delight, too. that’s why he licks your pussy with fervor he didn’t even know he had within him. he laps up the area, slurping around, suckling you like he would with a straw. you squeal and hold onto your legs, trying your hardest not to move them and accidentally kick him.

wetness coats the area around your pussy and drips down to your ass. it’s to the point that an ugly squelch resounds every time he brings his mouth back down. you’re coating his face with your arousal and he honestly wishes he could drown in it. his tongue thrusts inside your weeping hole to gather the wetness there, all the while you dig your fingers into your sheets and muffle your moans with a closed mouth.

“‘s that feel good, honey?” he asks, and you catch a glimpse of his face. pupils blown out from pleasure, usually kempt hair in a mess, lower half of his face coated with your juices.

“mhm,” you whimper in response.

he takes that as a cue to amp things up a notch. suckling your clit like a vacuum, face pressed against you so that you could feel his cheeks buried against your pussy lips. he keeps sucking, shaking his head against you, ‘til you’re cumming on his face. he moans at the wetness flowering into his mouth and onto his chins, furthering your orgasm at the vibrations against you.

leon pulls away to press his forehead against yours, kisses your nose sweetly. “you’re my princess, you know that?”

“yeah,” you say quietly.

"yeah?” he repeats. “my best girl.”

#🎀 — diary entry #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x you #leon scott kennedy #re leon

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see-arcane · 6 months

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Alright, slightly more coherent now

Yes! YES! Mina's heart-eyes were coming through at full volume when describing her Jonathan riding up, terrifying the guarding crowd out of his way, leaping on the wagon, and Lifting the Whole Box o' Dracula over his head just to slam dunk it on the ground. It was exactly as, "Dear Diary, I knew that now wasn't the time to climb my husband like a vampire-chucking cryptid tree, and I hated that, but I was so brave about it" as I was hoping it'd be

Oh man, the final Dracu-cackle was delightful. The big mounting villainous laugh building to its horror story crescendo...only to have Jonathan K.(ukri) Harker slice right through the bastard's neck as he chokes and gurgles. Plus the Bowie heart staking as punctuation. Magnificent. Delicious. Stupendous. The Power of Love is here to collect your fucking head, buddy, 1000/10 stars

And then. Quincey. Oh God, Quincey. This is the first time in the entire series--in any podcast series--that I laid where I was and cried. Listening to this good man bleed and smile and die the way I had always known he would, but the wound of it hurting so much more than mourning a sheet of paper had. The acting. The sound design. The music, both there and in the parting song. It carved my heart out. And it was great.

One. More. Episode. I am not ready to hear it. I am not ready for this ride to be over. But I can't wait regardless. It's a day early, but thank you for all of this @re-dracula. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

#I need a moment #I need several moments #god this entry...#re: dracula #dracula #dracula daily

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