#io draculea

[tuts-nocturnal-notes]

Why do I enjoy making these so much?

Somebody stop me 😄

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[io-draculea]

If we are being realistic here, real vampire!Vlad would heavily change the history of Romania and Balkans in general. That part does not make any sense in the stories of fictional Dracula(s) - as soon as they turn into a vampire, they forget about their most bitter enemy (TURKS) and go live in their own private la la land for the next 500 years. Uhmm??? I can understand, to some degree, why Stoker's Dracula did that, since vampires are weak in the book and it's easy to kill them. But Hellsings Alucard? You really want to tell me this eldritch ball of fury and hatred did not kill every ottoman soldier with his bare hands and burn Constantinopole to the ground when he finally had power to do so??? Did he really just packed his bags and said "my work here is done. adios 🫡" I meaaaan-

Ah, this is an excellent question!!!

And yes, I did think of that.

(actually by a complete coincidence I was just brainstorming a scene where he nearly succumbs to doing exactly what you say 😄, and how that would go - although it happens in the 21st century. I mean I have the kinda same scene planned when he gets cursed in the 15th century, but I don't have it written down yet 😅)

And I plan to explain it in several psychoanalyses, namely in these posts I have planned for the future 😄:

But for now, I can either give you a complex answer or a more simplified answer 😄.

OR I can actually post the part of the story where he goes through that development! 😁 ...and attach to it notes explaining why he's acting the way he is.

Or I can do it the same way I did it with The Beheading (story + later detailed psychoanalysis of the scene)

Which one would you prefer?

A complex answer

A simple answer, for the details I'll wait for the analytical posts

The story + shorter explanations in the forenote

The story + later detailed psychoanalysis

Voting ended onMar 27, 2025

[tuts-nocturnal-notes]

WiP

Had no reference for the face, so it's made up from 4 different pictures. Still couldn't decide whether I like it or hate it, but then came this phase where he looks so kind I had to save it. Maybe it won't be in the final pic, but he can be on my phone background giving me hope and courage in these trying times.

[tuts-nocturnal-notes]

I don't know why I have decided to murder you all... I apologise

The Beheading of Vlad Draculea

…a short story intertwined with history.

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Now I STRONGLY RECOMMEND PLAYING THIS WHILE READING! (sorry for the weird format but I haven't figured out how to do it properly here on Tumblr yet, someone help me 😅)

Because it captures perfectly the tone of the scene, thus making your experience fuller too 😉

(The video is amazing too if you'd be interested later)

First, the (un)necessary wall of text (feel free to skip 😄):

What historical facts I was inspired by that we have at least somewhat documented:

What his personality seems to be from what we know of him - pragmatic, resilient, unbreakable, a genius strategist and warrior

His behaviour and crowd interaction I base in the ways of mediaeval aristocracy, a field I specialize in*

We know he'd been killed by his enemies shortly after he'd ascended the Wallachian throne for the third time after 12 years of exile, in 1476, at the age of 45.

He was probably attacked by another pretender for the throne

There's a possibility he suffered from haemolacria

Even though in the world he became known by the propagandistic stories depicting him as a monster, fascinatingly, it has never happened in Romania itself. Somehow there survived his image of a just and beloved ruler, something only now the modern science started to discover has basis in history

Facts for those that don't know much about him:

For his memories, I use the real historical events that we know happened in his life

We know he built his castles with secret passages

We know he was an excellent fighter

His war strategies were legendary, he must've been incredibly clever and was very resourceful

His people probably really loved him. He defended them against the Ottomans and brought down those nobles who exploited them. Their living conditions improved greatly during his reign (justice for everyone, no unfair immunity for boyars, support of lower class, tax exemption for craftsmen, new roads, ending exploitation from Saxons, rewards for common people, commoners lifted to boyar status, ending the sending children as slaves to the Ottomans).

One theory states that that was the reason why they called him Drakgwlya (Dracula means ‘son of the dragon’- his father had the nickname ‘Dracul=Dragon’, his enemies changed that to ‘son of the devil’, but it has one other possible origin - as you'll find out later in the story)

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My assumptions that I used to cover the missing parts:

If I was Vlad's enemy and managed to overpower him, instead of murdering him on the spot I'd choose to behead him publicly, had I the chance (beheading was the only allowed way how to execute a nobleman - btw Vlad upheld that too, he never impaled them, as opposed what the propaganda stories accuse him of).

Why? See the following:

His people were waiting for his return for 12 years with patience and hope. I would want to make sure that they'd see that he's finished for good and that there's no chance that he could return again somehow someday

Vlad the Impaler at this point had an absolutely massive reputation as undefeatable scourge of his enemies (an image even strengthened by the propaganda depicting him as the devil incarnate). I'd absolutely want to create in the public eye the physical image of me being the one ending him

We think that his head was probably sent to the sultan of the Ottoman empire, Mehmed II. Possibly shortly after. But in mediaeval times, the body of the fallen monarch was preserved and paraded around, so that people could make sure that he's really dead - both his followers and his enemies. However without head, how could you persuade them that that's really the legendary Vlad the Impaler and not just some guy in his armour? Public execution solves this, as there would be testimonies from people that saw it happen

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*His personality in my works is based on my own thorough research. I'm considering his upbringing as a 15th-century voivode - influenced by medieval Christianity, and needing the moral code required of a ruler who led his people into battle (I'll do some posts on these later).

Does he sound like a B-movie superhero to you? That's not a coincidence! Modern superheroes are the continuation of mediaeval legendary knights. And many traits we associate with classic heroes - unwavering courage, honor, strategic brilliance, and even calculated ruthlessness - were not just ideals for a medieval ruler. They were necessary for survival. A voivode leading his army personally into battle couldn’t afford fear, hesitation, or weakness. His power depended on his ability to inspire loyalty, intimidate enemies, and outmaneuver both foreign invaders and internal threats.Those who succeeded in embodying these ideals became themselves legends or saints - like Charlemagne or Vlad’s cousin, St. Stephen (guess whom he had the opportunity to learn from…).

And if one thing is certain, Dracula’s name became more than legendary.

This short story tries to imagine how that could've happened.

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Now let's leave the realm of cold facts and musings, and let us step into the warm embrace of art:

Hear, hear! For I have a tale to tell you, of the last day of Vlad Voda of Wallachia:

And let the captivating tones of the bard Farya Faraji wash over your ears while I will be doing so.

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Vlad Draculea, or "the Impaler" as he's become known lately, was standing in a cold, dark cell of his own castle. A massive iron collar around his neck, the chain linked to it binding him to the iron bars of the prison.

That collar was the problem.

You see, he had expected something like this could happen. He wasn't called one of the best strategists of his time for nothing. He knew that there was a chance that one day some of the pretenders to the throne could capture him and throw him in a cell so they could prepare to execute him publicly. He would have done the same. That's why he had rebuilt his castles with secret passages leading from the prison cells he could one day find himself in, including this one. The secret way was hidden under the wooden bench, its opening accessible after removing the third floor stone from the right of the northern wall.

But he hadn't counted for the collar.

It wasn't there when he last checked the state of the castle after his return from 12 years of exile. But his enemy has fished it out of who knows where.

Apparently, the ingenuity of Vlad Draculea had become so legendary, that his enemies made sure to be thorough. Curses.

And so he had ended with an iron collar around his neck, chained to the bars, just a few steps away from the secret passage that could've led him to safety, and yet now made agonizingly unreachable.

He tugged at the chain again, but it was no use, the metal was just too strong.

Vlad couldn't but laugh heartily at the sweet irony of this whole situation.

The saddest thing is, that of all places, the shackle was around the neck. If he'd been chained by wrists, he would consider breaking his thumbs. Maybe he'd manage to break his ankles too, if the shackles had been there instead. But breaking his neck was... a possibility, for sure, but not one that would lend him much advantage.

Vlad smirked again and slightly bowed his head in respectful admiration. "Well played, indeed!" he mused. As a warlord he could always appreciate a clever strategy, even when it was used to defeat him.

But he didn't bash himself over his defeat for too long. He knew he had done the best he could. This wasn't really something he could have prevented in advance.

Sometimes, life was just like this. Sometimes, even the best strategy still couldn't guarantee that you stayed alive.

There was no use in spending his last moments on earth wallowing in pointless grief.

So instead, he decided to use this moment of respite to contemplate his life. And what a life that has been!

He smiled sadly at his cruel childhood. He wept briefly for those he'd loved that had fallen. He laughed again at the times that had brought him joy. He smiled with gratefulness at the moments when he had felt true happiness.

And then he finished with a short prayer, thanking God that he could've lived through all that, and now pleading that his soul be received in heaven.

He then took a deep breath in and out and then looked at the cold cell around him anew, his expression now calm.

"I wonder what awaits me next?" he pondered. The thoughts about his own death inadvertently looming over him couldn't be escaped. But maybe, it won't be so bad... Maybe he'll see his loving wife again. What a nice sight that would be, to once more see her with her arms open, welcoming him home after he will return from his very last battle.

He might even set his eyes upon the face of his beloved brother Mircea, now surely a better sight than when he'd last seen him, when his dead face with gouged out eyes was marked by the horror of having been buried alive. Ah, how he was excited to see him smile again instead!

And his father would be there too... father who he'd hated until the last moment for giving him away to the Ottomans as a hostage and then subsequently betraying them, thus sentencing his own son to death, which neither of them couldn't have known at the time that wouldn't come. But then when Vlad met him again he'd sacrificed himself to save Vlad and Radu’s lives... Vlad longed for the opportunity to talk to him again ever since.

And then of course there would be his dear mother, who he had last seen when he was just 7 years old, and never got to know what had become of her after that. Now he will finally be able to hear her story.

Vlad smiled wryly at those thoughts.

His chain of thought was broken by the metallic sound of keys in the door. Ah, the time has finally come. He looked with a bittersweet smile as that damned collar fell to the floor. Oh well. Now when the fully armed soldiers had clasped him firmly with their hands, it was a dead end anyway.

As they led him over the courtyard that his steps had marked for so many times before, he quickly assessed the situation. The soldiers were many. Too many. And they were armed too. Even if he managed to wriggle himself free from their grip, they would catch him before he'd even reach the closest window. No, the only thing that would achieve was him dying sooner, with no pride whatsoever, and staining his reputation with the mark of "coward" as well. That simply wasn't worth it.

So he let them lead him to the newly raised wooden terrace, where his enemy already awaited him, along with the executioner's sword, and the crowd to behold that. Draculea walked with his head proudly raised, a brave smile across his face. He wasn't scared at all. Why should he be? Fear would do him no service, especially not now. Being scared wouldn't change the situation in any way, so why spoil his last moments with it? He was calm instead, his gaze already fixed beyond mortal matters. He didn't pay much attention to the words of his enemy. It didn't matter anyway, and he would risk that he would roll his eyes if he heard his enemy boasting how he was the one to bring the fearsome Vlad the Impaler to his demise.

His gaze stopped at the sight of the beheading block, and his eyes sparked with curiosity: "I wonder how that will be!"

Then suddenly, a sharp shout tore him away from his thoughts.

It came from the public.

He looked at the crowd for the first time. He didn't pay them much attention before, as he wasn't interested in seeing faces of people cheering over his demise or laughing at his defeat. But he was surprised that that wasn't what he saw. No. The expressions he saw were full of... sadness. The people... His people... were mourning him. "Vlad Voda!" one man had cried with desperation. Soon one woman accompanied him, tears running down her face. These were the people who'd waited for 12 years for his return, and now they were forced to see their hopes of him being their ruler once again thwarted before their very own eyes. "Vlad Voda, don't leave us!!! Don't go, dragul...!"

Dragul. Beloved. The name his people had given him.

Vlad smiled at them kindly, saying without words "But what can I do?"

From the crowd came the answer: "Fight!"

Vlad almost laughed out loud. What use could there be in fighting? Don't they see the odds? The platform was full of armed soldiers, two of them were holding him as well, and his hands were tied behind his back.

But the crowd stood firm. "Fight them!! Fight, Vlad Voda!!!!"

Vlad smiled again at the unfaltering faith they had in his fighting skills.

But then he gave it a moment's thought. Sure, there was no chance to win whatsoever, he knew that beyond doubt. But maybe... Maybe it would be nice to have one last battle. To once more unleash the admirable strength of his body that he had cultivated since childhood. To use the battle skills he had drilled into his mind with such care that they became part of his instincts now. To feel his heart race with adrenaline in the heat of battle ...for that one last time.

But the voice inside his head had stopped him. It was that voice which always rose up to make him aware that he as a voivode had responsibility to his people. He couldn't just let his own desires win. His life wasn't his own, it never was, it always belonged to his people. He was there to serve. And starting a fight here and there wouldn't do them much service, what if they'd risen up and started fighting the guards themselves? That would result in a bloodshed.

He looked back at his people with an apologetic smile.

But they weren't satisfied, no, they had started to rally even more when they noticed he'd actually considered their proposition. Someone started shouting his name, and more people joined. They wanted to see. They wanted to see their Vlad Voda fight one last time.

Vlad again eyed the surrounding, his eyes narrowing in focus as he was taking assessment of his situation. Then he smiled with a playful smile. Truly, there was no chance. But he himself was curious - how many soldiers he could take down before they'd overpower him? One? Two? Five? It was surely a challenge with conditions like this, especially since his own arms were still tied behind his back. But he always rose up to a good challenge!

And if this was the wish of his people, he'll hear out their call! All his life was tied down with responsibility, but maybe now, moments before his own end, he could let himself be free. He deserved at least that one short moment of freedom.

So be it then!

He gave his people a mischievous smile as his old fighting spirit was rekindled in his green eyes. The crowd had noticed and held their breath with excitement. But the guards, who didn't see his face, didn't notice. And so he striked!

In one fast moment, quick as the strike of lightning and just as deadly, he'd butted the head of a soldier next to him with his forehead. The soldier shrieked out with pain as his nose broke and sprayed him with shower of blood. Before the other soldier had even time to notice what happened, Vlad had already managed to slam with full force into his belly with his shoulder, effectively bringing the soldier to the ground. The crowd cheered loudly. Seeing Vlad fighting was a symphony to behold. Vlad was always an excellent fighter, there wasn't anyone who could've bested him in one to one combat. Even here, overwhelmed, his moves were lightning fast, and his hits powerful and resourceful too. When he couldn't use his arms - as they were tied behind his back - he used his feet instead, kicking with deadly precision at the weakest points in the soldiers defences, who weren't prepared for such an unorthodox attack from below. While they were trying to grab him, he'd kicked them out of balance, toppling them to the ground before they could even use their weapons. Vlad had moved with the swift elegance of a deadly dancer, dancing between their pole arms and using his legs, head and shoulders to carry out strikes. He even managed to make use of his elbows, restricted that they were. And at one moment he made a soldier run away while only using his fierce expression, he was proud of that one!

No less than eleven soldiers were out before one managed to hit Vlad in the back of his head with the pommel of a sword, bringing him to his knees. Another five soldiers clasped him, taking a hold of every inch of his body should he find a way to use that in a fight somehow. The crowd shouted with disappointment. Vlad gave them one last look, an apologetic smile across his face, as if he was saying "I did the best I could, but the odds weren't in my favour. Forgive me.

But thank you. It was fun."

With the corner of his eye he saw the massive blade of the executioner's sword swing. He bowed his head in reverence, accepting his fate with grace.

And then, just a moment before the sword fell and severed his head from his body, one single tear dropped from his eye. It had the vivid colour of blood - a condition he was affected by since childhood. The scarlet tear contrasted brightly with his pale face as it made its way across his cheek, found a way through his beard, until it reached his chin and from there dripped on the soil of his kingdom.

It wasn't a tear spilled over a sadness of his life, or the cruelty of his fate.

It was a tear mourning what could've been but wasn't to be anymore.

And as his enemy has grasped his raven black hair and lifted his severed head for all the people to see, the face of Vlad Draculea had for one last time looked down at his people. And on his face has been clearly strewn his last expression, now etched there for the rest of eternity. It showed his people kind smile, yet his brow was full of courage, his fighting spirit staying alive even while his own soul has left the mortal plane.

Because his face told to his people this last message:

"We have lived. We have fought. And it was worth it!"

And his people have never forgotten this. Outside of his realm he became known as the sadistic tyrant from the woodcut-printed stories. But his OWN people have never forgotten who he really was. Even as the dent of time has stripped down every living memory of him, deep down they remembered.

Even 550 years later.

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Made in thank you to the marvelous community around the real Vlad Draculea. The illustrious Corpus Draculianum, working tirelessly on finding new knowledge about Vlad, buried in old documents and archaeological sites. For their dedication in clearing Vlad’s name in the eye of the public, fighting against vampiric monsters and child-eating tyrants, however impossible a task that seems to be. And also as thank you to the Vlandom, the amazing community which celebrates what could Vlad teach us still, and in their works, be it written stories or memes, make him live once again.

… And last but not least:

Mulțumesc, Măria Ta.

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[tuts-nocturnal-notes]

HC: Vampirized Vlad III. would spend a considerable amount of time scrolling through memes

Actually I think he'd consume the world news almost exclusively through that format

Because after you've lived for 600 years, you no longer make your head heavy with grave details. You've lived through so much that you've realized how absurd life really is.

And that even though the times change a lot, humans, and life itself, will always be the same. Nothing will change that. You can complain about it, you can be angry at it, but that's all you can do with it. And so you start to at least laugh at it :D

...Also I think the biggest side effect the curse of immortality would have on Vlad would be that

he'd become one of the biggest trolls in history 😆

His name has become engulfed with so many untruthful stereotypes that if he ever revealed his true identity, he'd enjoy every chance he'd got to take his favourite warhammer and smash the expectations the others have of him into tiny little pieces. He'd have much fun with that 😄. He'd live for that face that reporter made above 😁

You can look forward to see how that will look like in the short story I'm releasing (at least I wish 😅) this Sunday 😁,

Edit: it is here! Yay!

... a small snippet from my bigger work, Io, Draculea, where you'll see what would happen if you let a 15th century voivode survive to modern times 😄

[tuts-nocturnal-notes]

My version of Vlad reading CD

[tuts-nocturnal-notes]

I promised you some art, and so I keep my oath!

Here's a piece of mine I have been working on for quite some time.

Vlad as your knight on a horse with shinning armour! Behold!

You'll be surprised that this is actually not from a battle, but rather a knight tournament! (In battle the horse of a voivode would probably be armoured better)

I actually think in his life Vlad might've taken part in knight tournaments (but feel free to correct me if you have better info 😉. Sure, I'll be crying if I find out that I should throw this piece into the trash, but I wanna be historically accurate 😅). You see, I don't think the Ottomans would've trained him in fighting with plate armour. So he'd need to learn that somewhere. That's why I think he might've taken part in some tournaments when he arrived at Bogdan's court at 16 years old.

But maybe he would have a chance even later in life, when he was held by Matthias in Hungary - you see, Matthias kept him in reserve if the Ottomans would attack Hungary, so he'd absolutely want to keep Vlad in fighting condition! And that's what tournaments were actually used for, to practice your battle skills outside of war.

Vlad was a great fighter, what use would it be for Matthias if he lost all his muscles and muscle memory while rotting away in prison? Also it would allow him to get back some prestige after the horrible propaganda dragged his name through mud, which would be profitable for Corvinus too - it would enable to put him on the Wallachian throne or in the lead of an army way quicker should the need arrise.

The complimentary wall of text: Some noteworthy details:

The face:

Physical characteristics I once again based on Modrussa's description and Vlad's seal

However his expression is strained with exercise and focus

Does he look too young for you? Remember that he've lead an army attack for the first time when 25 years old! And in Hungary he was through the age of 31-44! Vlad Draculea would in no case look like the withered, aged old man how he's so often depicted as!!

The sweat:

Yes, Vlad was a warmachine, but he was still a human being, and even such a god of war would sweat when wearing plate armour in the sun and while doing exhausting moves

The teeth:

I have a bad feeling mediaeval person with no access to Collgate wouldn't have pearly white teeth. However there was no coffee, black tea nor tobacco yet, so they wouldn't be yellow either

The horse:

A favourite breed for knight battle horses were the Friesians. I am aware that they probably looked different than today, but since I have no clue HOW different, I settled on drawing the modern one

The coat of arms:

Combination of Draculea's family crest and the coat of arms of Wallachia. Lately I've found that maybe during Vlad's reign, he changed the Wallachian eagle so it would have its wings open, but I have once again no good reference to depict it realistically, so I settled with what I have

The sword:

I think Vlad would still use the Ottoman kilij, since that would always be a weapon he'd be most proficient with (since he had the most time to train with that, and when you're literally fighting for your life in a battle, you don't want to experiment with novelties). So he'd make an absolute unique and rare sight, because he'd have Western armour and Eastern sword.

The missing helmet:

Ah yes, the artistic purpose. I am guilty of that too, because drawing Vlad's face behind the millimetres-wide slit of a jousting helmet is... ehm. But wait, have you ever seen a knight tournament? I highly recommend!!!

(for those less lucky ones - if interested - I might be able to make a short compilation of a tournament I saw of Traken on Karlštejn, they're amazing, I actually started drawing this when I saw them there on the grape harvest festival in September - that's a great historical event as well, with historically accurate costumes 🥰. I recommend!).

If not, then you'd be surprised that it's not full time clashing only! There are many tasks to test your agility, dexterity, and also proficiency in riding a horse - like shooting from a bow, spear throwing, cutting wooden logs with a sword, picking sword from the ground, catching a bracelet with a sword, etc. - and all of that on a horseback in speed! 😳 Fun 😁! And also for these you wouldn't need to wear a helmet.

Disclaimer: this is made on a digital tablet, but it's still painted nonetheless. No photoshop. I did use a photo reference (not for the face, though, that's from imagination only), but I still painted everything from scrap. At the beginning there was a blank canvas.

I know this is probably a totally useless and pointless disclaimer, but it had actually happened to me that I showed people a piece I was sooo effing proud of - another one with armour, I think the best piece I've ever made tbh - and people were like "eh, nice that you drew the face". And I was like "asdfghshdjd@# I also drew the effing armour, it took me weeks!! Why doesn't anyone appreciate that, have you ever tried painting a suit made of metal?!! It took SO MUCH WORK to make it look realistic and not one single person comments on it??!! 😭😭😭

...only to later find out that people didn't think that the armour was painted and not photoshopped 😅😆)

[tuts-nocturnal-notes]

This year, Sherlock Holmes indeed joined Dracula Daily.

Watch him hunt the mysterious "Count Dracula", who looks suspiciously close to a certain detective!

Thank you lovely @windmaedchen , my most favourite Sherlock Holmes artist, who has done me the unimaginable honour of drawing my version of Holmes (still can't believe it 😭 I am such a fan of them 🥰. Thank you thank you! 🥹), standing right next to our favourite Vlad Voda, now hiding in London under a pseudonym in the 19th century. And, well, it wouldn't be Holmes if he didn't figure out there's some strange existence joining the London underground. Surprisingly though, the vampiric Voievode is not the bloodthirsty psychopath one might think.

Here you have them, joining forces to solve the final case: What's going on? Who really is this Mina Murray? And most importantly: where the hell is Jonathan Harker?

that poor fellow down there is of course poor dear Watson, who had to listen to twice the insanity than usual and it took a toll on him