#anything for you Alucard

[loadingbones]

ily Alucard

[cogneartive]

post-game life

[herushingu]

There is existence

Then there is expansion

What we need is motivation to move from one to the other

& sometimes its right there 💫

[glorfys-glorioushair]

I laugh myself silly every time I think of the first interaction between these two, so here's a colored doodle hehe

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

There's a severe lack of coffin sex in the AO3 tags when it comes to the vampire fandoms. I know Hellsing should have it, I think I've read a fic with coffin sex, but it is rare. Hell, Castlevania is also surprisingly lacking. It's surprising. Why the fuck are the vampire fandoms less horny when it comes to coffins, while the fucking Sims and SVSS seem to have it downpat with only one having it with vampires.

[birdhouseblogredux25]

Just finished both seasons of Castlevania Nocturne and this show gave me such a headache and an adrenaline rush that I absolutely adored it with every fiber of my gosh darn being. There's still one question that I need to know for next season:

DID ALUCARD MEET HIS PARENTS PLS CAUSE MY GUY, GURL, BRO, SIS, MA'AM, SQUIRREL- DID HE GET CLOSURE?

WRITERS YOU CANT LEAVE ME HANGING LIKE THIS.

[sorrowveined]

"There's no need for you to remember."

On Arikado's lips, the words he speaks taste like ash. He couldn't say why, exactly, they feel so hollow - after all, he doesn't want Soma to remember, and he really does believe that that's what's for the best. Not just for the world, but for Soma himself, too...

After all, if Soma starts remembering the past, no-one can say what will happen or who he might become. But more so than that, Arikado doesn't wish for Soma to bear that burden. The rage and grief felt by his father, so strong that they drove him to madness and devoured the man Arikado used to know, leaving nothing left... he has no doubt that Soma deserves better than to experience them again. ...Soma is different to Dracula - so it's only natural that Arikado would come to care for him, isn't it? After watching over him for such a long time... that's all it is. He's sure of it. So...

"You should just live your own life, Soma." Arikado insists, as he always has done, in response to Soma's latest question. It's not the first time they've had this conversation.

"Aren't you satisfied with what you have now?"

@reincarnight ( starter! )

[ruiniel]

In Aeternum - II

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Relationship: Alucard x Reader

Count: 1.9k

Rating: M

Tags: Pining, Alternate Universe, First Meetings, Dark Romanticism/style, Castlevania References, Reincarnation, Post-Castlevania 2017-2021, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, F!Reader, Herbalist Reader, Magic, References to Speakers, Creatures, Shapeshifting, Second Person POV, Adventure, Alternate Universe - canon divergence

Part I

Summary:

Alucard centered story, where his s/o in ~1476 is a herbalist who eventually dies of old age. Fast forward to the 1790s, Alucard stumbles into you: a herbalist and magician, with the same appearance of the one he knew long ago.

II.

You close the door behind you, wondering what had just happened, more than a little unsettled by the abrupt departure of your new acquaintance.

Why? 

Another part of you is, in contrast, more than a little intrigued. It was as if he could sense your concern about the eavesdropping townsfolk, but that's not necessarily unusual if he's one versed in reading people. You lock the door still pondering on this, on how you nearly died today for the first time in a long while, on how fortuitous his presence had been.

The act of unwrapping the herbs and roots you collected then laying them to dry helps to quiet the mind and alleviate those constant, flowing questions. Somewhat.

You take your time, and the hour is late when you finally set to wash and change. Your feet hurt as you climb the old set of stairs leading to a cramped little attic room you use for a bedroom.

Crawling into bed, you notice the moon is still up in the sky, its silver face shining through the long, tilted window.

Bundling yourself in an old throw and lying on your side, you can’t shake the memory of a warm gloved hand helping you to your feet, and a lingering scent.

Lavender… the thought occurs, inescapable, the last as your eyes close.

That night, you dream of running through a shadowy forest to catch the dawn, your feet bare and dewy, chasing a white wolf and laughing as castle spires rise beyond ancient trees.

The next day passes, uneventful; as does the following, and the one after it. There are rumors and unrest seeping through the fabric of life as you and others know it, but for now, they amount to nothing more than words and sometimes worried, sometimes hopeful predictions.

There is but one certainty you feel in your bones as others do: change is coming.

You rub at the back of your head, then at your eyes, still nibbling on a crust of bread well past the time for a midday meal—your sales had never been bountiful, but in the past two years especially, they all but sank as prices soared and folk became more and more impoverished.

It’s not until late afternoon that you sigh, thinking to close up for the day, but not before there comes a knock on the window of the apothecary shop.

You turn, and smile without thought.

“Well met, Martin,” you open the door, meeting a pair of blue-green eyes.

“Miss,” the young man smiles back, “How did it go, today?”

“… so and so. And you?”

Martin shrugs, shaking his head. “Interest in poetry has dwindled, but the cobbling business still goes, for better or worse.”

Since you’ve known him, Martin has always kept a buoyant outlook on life and sees the full side of the glass no matter if it’s water or poison. And yet, he is no fool. It is, perhaps, one of the reasons he’s become your friend—of the few you boast in this place.

Even now, with his clothing ragged and the gauntness in his cheeks more prominent, he smiles at you.

“How is your father?” you ask, biting your lip.

“Oh,” his smile fades. “He’s been better, but the joint pain keeps hindering his movement, and—where are you going?”

“Wait here.” You’re gone inside only to return, producing a small jar. “I had this ointment freshly made yesterday. He can try massaging the sore area with this twice a day. It should alleviate some discomfort.”

Martin gazes down at your offering, his brown curls falling into his face; he looks uncomfortable. “I… you know I can’t pay for this,” he pushes your hands away.

“Martin, don’t.” You take his larger hand and press the glass receptacle into his palm. “I know, all right? Just take it.”

He looks down at your hand over his, features scrunching. “It should not be this way, you know. All of us, struggling to get by.” He looks up at you, all mirth gone from his face. “Have you eaten today?”

“Of course,” you smile now, but you know he’s right. Just as you know he came to see you now, before the end of your day, because he cares; and so do you, though perhaps not in the same way. “Go rest, Martin.”

“Only if you promise to do the same. And to ask once again that you don’t head out into that damned forest alone, as you used to. There's... been another disappearance. I heard about it at the tavern on my way—that’s what I came here to tell you. Be careful.”

Heart beating faster, you nod. “Of course, thank you, same goes to you.”

Half a crooked smile shows he’s satisfied—and with a last friendly nod, pressing the gifted ointment jar to his chest, he walks away. “Until tomorrow.”

“Until then…” your words fade in your mouth as you turn back inside, wondering what the world is coming to.

You remove your apron just as the door creaks, signalling an arrival.

“We’re closed for the day,” you say, placing the apron on a chair.

“Oh. Should I come by another time, then?”

You freeze. Your body jolts at the mere inflection of that voice, and slowly you turn, meeting his eyes.

Adrian stands there, unassuming, wearing black as usual, his long coat trimmed with yellow. He looks much too pale in this light, but then the ghostly allure does something for him. His face changes into a dim smile; his bright eyes are smiling too.

Running, barefooted… the wolf stares back, ensuring you follow.

You shake your head, realizing you’d been wordless for too long. “No, I’ll make an exception. I mean—for you, of course I will. Come, come,” you urge, going behind the counter and donning a near-professional manner. “Let’s see, then. What can I help you with today?”

Adrian nods, and only then steps forward, reaching inside his coat. He retrieves a piece of paper, showing it to you.

It looks yellowed with time and use, and you’re wary of touching it for fear the frail-looking parchment might disintegrate between your fingers.

But he’s handing it over with no apparent concerns and before your hesitation turns to embarrassment, you gingerly take the paper to glance at the etchings.

“Hmm… this script is...”

“Old?… Yes.”

You look up at him briefly, finding his gaze intent on the torn slip.  “Valerian root,” you read the first word, turning to the shelf behind you. “... evening primrose,” you head over to another shelf, this time going around Adrian, your attention focused on the items. An unusual meld, and you wonder what kind of concoction this may be. “Bloodroot,” you say, frowning as you skim over the next item scrawled in a flowing hand. “... Frankincense.” You turn around, meeting the eyes of your last minute customer. “I don’t keep stock of this,” you add, but then the list does look quite out of sorts with everything else on there. It’s also very unlikely he wrote it, but you resist the urge to ask as you hand him back the note.

“No, of course not,” Adrian gently reaches for the paper and tucks it back inside his coat at his chest. “The rest will do.”

You nod, and after pulling on a glove, take the quantity required of bloodroot from one basket at your feet. You look down in earnest and carefully wrap the herbs and roots requested. The sun has dipped low enough to beam through the window, splashing light over your working fingers. You raise your head.

Sunset looks good on him, too; enhancing the shimmer in his hair, setting a pale flame to his eyes. “What spells are you up to, Mr. Țepeș?” 

You smirk around your question. You don’t mean to be nosy, and it’s none of your business after all to know what strangers go about doing in their spare time. Even if said strangers are unreasonably strong shapeshifters that prevented your demise.

Too late to bite your tongue, anyway. 

“Adrian, remember?”

Heat pulses through your body, warming your cheeks. “Adrian.”

Adrian shakes his head, and his face softens in another smile; one that comes easier this time, warmer and more sincere. “Nothing that should worry anybody,” he replies, sliding into an assured, simple manner. “Thank you.” And he reaches inside his pocket, at which point you realize he wants to pay and so begin shaking your head and wagging both index fingers at him.

Adrian regards you with owlish confusion, comical on his otherwise dramatic features.

“Please, no need,” you gesture for him to place his satchel on your small counter. “You saved my life, remember?”

Adrian pauses with his hand inside his coat, a bemused frown on his face.  “... henceforth, I have earned an unlimited supply of free herbs?”

You scoff, “Well… why not? I mean, I... I suppose?”

He’s laughing before you know it, head falling back in delight; the sound is so unexpected, so lively and musical in this red sunset that your smile freezes on your face, and that feeling from the woods slithers right back between your ribs as if it never left. There is magic on him again. Something unrevealed. Its arcane flickers speed towards you and your own strength, recognizing another conductive vessel.

A glamor. You can’t quite grasp what it shields, but it lacks any form of malice, and so fails to worry you. For now.

You cross your arms as a strangeness rises at the back of your mind again, pulsing like something strong and familiar and warm, eager to break its bonds.

You’re staring as Adrian simmers, tilting his head slightly to one side with a contemplative air. “Forgive me, I am not laughing at you, it was… just the way you said it.”

“How about this?” You offer back the satchel. “Whenever you need supplies...” you add in a faux affected tone, “... henceforth, I’ll do my best to provide you with what I have on stock. Without charge.” Before he can protest, you add quickly, “My trade, my rules.”

Adrian retrieves the satchel you’ve filled with the herbs, bringing it over one shoulder. “I appreciate it, but I don’t know if that’s necessary, especially considering the proven risks you take to gather these.”

“Nonsense,” you say, foolish in your sudden excitement. Perhaps it’s the idea of being able to do something for him that has you so riled, so drunk on this exchange. Perhaps you’ve simply been lonely, and welcome the interaction. It makes you bolder, and before you know it, your traitorous tongue goes off. “Why did you leave so suddenly last time?”

Adrian taps a gloved finger on the wooden counter, his expression unchanged. “I… did not realize I had. I am sorry if I did. I truly am.”

You want the floorboards to swallow you whole. “There’s nothing to apologize for, I’m sorry it was not my intent to pry this way, I—” 

The crash is so loud, so deafening, you lose balance, your back striking the shelves. Adrian rushes over and you grab at his arms to steady yourself against the pain as a second blast hits somewhere outside, causing the windows to shake. 

“What now!?” You release him, turning to the door. 

“Wait!”

You don’t hear him, cannot see the muted desperation on his face as you throw the door open, as you run into the street thinking of Martin and how he was on his way home, as flames burst to engulf you.

The last you see is red: red beams, red lightning, cutting between you and devouring fire.

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

[alucardsathomewife]

What if seras was never turned into a vampire how would things change what would be the butterfly effect

Same thing only not alive

Also here's a small Baskerville

[see-arcane]

Honestly the whole "only virgins become vampires" not only is inconsistent with Alucard and Mina Harker, but a lot of terror goes away. Fear of becoming a bloodthirsty monster you once feared and aware of it should be universal. There's a reason why the First Mate jumped. There's a reason why Jonathan vowing to let Mina turn him into a vampire hits. There's a reason why there was the looming threat of Mina turning the men into Dracula's "jackals". With the virginity rule so much tension goes away.

Yeah, Dracula's vampire rules are kind of prone to being screwed with in every adaptation and spinoff under the sun.

I think Hirano just threw the virginity thing (and the 'They have to be the opposite sex!!!' thing) in so he could have the threat of the zombies 'ghouls' to play around with rather than an endless legion of vampires. If it were the novel's rules, that'd mean

A) Way more intelligent vampires to deal with every arc

B) A much higher body count as vampires tried to avoid making new vampires, opting for full slaughter instead. Which would have worked super well in a manga as grisly as Hellsing! But Hirano wanted his un-zombies, so what can you do :/

[lycankeyy]

"Somebody's going to die" "Of fun!!!" ass dynamic in the front rn

[whippedcloudsofcream]

Not only did Alucard fucking decimate Drolta in one hit, but he killed her by giving her what she wanted. Her only desire was to wreak havoc, drink everyone dry, and deal out senseless death. So Alucard made sure to cut her life short by making her choke on her own blood.

[herenvibing]

the fact that “problematic ships” are being written about in actual articles by actual publications is just. so brainrotted it’s absurd

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

So I've been thinking about chemical warfare and how it was used in both world wars...and I'm just thinking that Alucard would be disturbed if not outright afraid of chemical warfare. Sure Alucard survive pretty much anything and yes, he absolutely has a stronger sense of smell than humans do. However I don't actually think Alucard would be totally immune to gas. Sure he can regenerate, but I think even he would wary of the stuff, especially considering he's probably had white phosphorus used on him before, and that stuff just eats away at flesh right down to the bone and sometimes through it.

Sure some gasses he probably wouldn't be terribly affected by seeing how if he can smell it, he'll probably just stop breathing. But the ones that don't have a smell? The ones that are more insidious and tend to not act until much later? I think Alucard is incredibly wary of those kinds simply based on the fact that the delayed reaction would likely happen much quicker to him due to his likely increased metabolism as a result of his regeneration, and personally on something like Alucard? I think gas would be horrific. It would probably be just as horrific as it is on humans, and I do wonder if Alucard ever was allowed to fight in the first world war. He might not have, but there's a chance he might have, and had been introduced to such things either via being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or thanks to Van Helsing.

Either way, I don't personally see Alucard for all that he is, being okay by any means with chemical warfare. Either by seeing it as an abominable thing, feeling fear towards it, disgust, or a combination of all three. I just can't see him condoning the useage of such.

[beevean]

I feel so out of things to say like really this is the adaptation of all time

Tell me about it.

I don't want to watch this. I really, really don't. What I'm learning is enough.

Like the fact that Annette is a cunt! :D

How con-fucking-venient that she's the residential WOC so any criticism can be deflected with "WHY ARE YOU BEING A DISGUSTING MISOGYNIST/RACIST KYS". No wonder they turned her into an ex-slave girlboss! They can do anything they want with her! Peak writing, everybody! They Fixed The Stupid Character From The Stupid Game!

[sorrowveined]

This place, this fog, it's... Alucard can't find the right word for it. The first that comes to mind is 'dark', but Alucard has been in plenty of dark places before, and none were quite like this.

Not much is capable of unsettling him, but right now, Alucard finds himself feeling surprisingly shaken as he moves across the forest floor, twigs snapping with every step. The feeling of his powers - or rather, their absence, likely has a large part to do with that. It's not the first time that his abilities have been snatched from him by another, but even so... this time, not knowing the cause, along with the sense of malevolence that makes even the air feel suffocating here... it's something he needs to be very careful about.

What he wasn't expecting to see, when he does finally encounter a figure in the all-encompassing dark, is a boy. He looks young - younger than Alucard, certainly, and dressed in clothes that stand out as unusual in a way that he can't exactly place. But somehow, there's something about him... that it feels like he should recognize. In a way that makes chills run through his veins.

"Are you alright?" he asks, though the question is sharp, without any attempt to hide his suspicion. "You... what are you doing in a place like this, alone?"

@reincarnight ( dead by daylight verse starter! )