#hellsing organization

[author4013]

Too small 🤏

[zevanthsnecromancy]

Hellsing Ultimate: Red Crayon

He doesn't want your crayon. Dadcard is disappointed in you.

[married2avampire]

The Way You Look Tonight

Chapter Eight • Teeth and Tongue

Ao3 | tip jar | Next

A/n: for the sake of this fic, having your blood sucked by a vampire does not turn you into a vampire or a ghoul. Also, things are heating up! Stay hydrated. NSFW in the next chapter! I’m trying to keep smutty stuff as a solo chapter so that those of you who don't like it can just skip it & not miss anything!

P.S. For a romance writer, when things actually get romantic… I struggle! I suppose I’m a piner at heart. I’m always striving for it to be felt through the page, with hints of realism here and there. Hopefully, the feelings I'm trying to express in this chapter are tangible and come through the pages. Sometimes I worry… “Is this as exciting and romantic to my readers as it is for me?!” 

Contents: MULTI-CHAPTER, Alucard (Hellsing)/fem!reader, eventual NSFW, written in 2nd person, relatively ambiguous time period but pre-2000s, reader and family members descriptions (other than clothes and personalities) are kept ambiguous for the sake of inclusion, ghost Alucard (kind of?), spooky stuff, Integra is dead and the Hellsing Organization has been dissolved, Alucard in the flesh, super duper vague yandere/obsessive themes, I’m on team Alucard With Long Hair, blood, biting

6K words

You’d slipped only once on the cold walk back to the manor but had not fallen. As Alucard had promised, you weren’t met with cold, hard earth but a strong arm looping under yours, keeping you aloft. The vampire seemed rather proud of himself for catching you and you supposed that you had, after all, been proven wrong. Sly and villainous he may be — he was genuine in his desire to take care of you. 

He’d walked you to the edge of the forest, where the two of you parted for a short while to avoid him being seen by any of your family members. There, at the forest’s edge, he’d whispered a smug word or two into your ear, which you’d found yourself unable to ignore like you once had. Something in the way his breath sounded so close to your neck.

Lately, your ears had been more perceptive than you were used to. Once, you’d been able to drone out Alucard’s purring tone with relative ease. Now you find that even the slightest sound from him — a clicking tongue, rustling fabric, a short inhale — has your head turning and attention drawing to him. No other sound drew you quite like he did, though; not the crackling of the hearth in front of you, the low whine of storm wind at the window, or the clack of your mug of tea being set down on the coffee table by your own hand. 

You were sitting in the recently finished drawing room late at night. The fire was the only light in the room, casting a flicker of orange over your skin and chasing away the winter cold. There was a time when being in this room like it was now — dark, with hardly enough light to expel the inky black shadows — would have terrified you, lest a looming figure come creeping through the door to wick the fire out like a mere candle. That looming figure still lurks, only now you’re aware that it belongs to you. 

You curl your legs up on the sofa, leaning drowsily against the armrest as you watch the fire and listen to the shifting of fabric behind you. The air feels weighted and you look up only to find a pale face already peering down at you. It startles you a little; Aluard’s observational expression and the long black hair that trails down far enough to nearly tickle your cheeks. He smiles. It’s not a big smile, but you catch the glimmer of a snaggly fang in the firelight. 

“What?” you whisper up at him. 

Alucard tilts his head slightly, an eyebrow raising. “Am I not allowed to look at you?” he whispers in return.

You say nothing, eyes trailing along the shape of his teeth before turning your gaze back to the fire. Those teeth… You wondered how many had died from those teeth. Alucard was very old and had seen war and carnage you were positive you couldn’t even imagine. He’d killed with blade, hand, and jaw alike, you were sure. He could have slain you down in the basement, easily. But he hadn’t wanted to. 

You chew on the inside of your cheek. He hadn’t wanted to. Alucard had settled for licking up the blood from your wound instead of ripping you apart. Those teeth that were once so good for killing now rested patiently behind his lips and had never once broken your skin. 

“What are you thinking about, my master?” Alucard rounds the sofa, coat fluttering behind him. He comes to sit on the recliner at your right, crossing one long leg over the other and steepling his gloved fingers in his lap. 

Your eyes are drawn to the glimmer of his leather boots in the flickering light of the fire, travel up a dark, rumpled pant leg, up to the buttons of his suit, and then to those jagged teeth barely visible through the slight part of his lips. 

“You said you can go without blood for as long as I wish you to?” 

“Yes,” Alucard confirms with a slow nod. He raises a curious eyebrow at you but otherwise stays silent. 

One day, you knew, one day you really would have to feed him unless you wanted him to go back to being a dry, old corpse. What would you do when that day came? Would you prick yourself? Would you have the strength to break your own skin? You suppose you could simply permit him to go out and find blood as he pleased, but something about the idea of Alucard digging his fangs into who knows what struck a chord with you. He said he can go without blood for as long as I wish him to, but…

But what? You distract yourself by reaching for your mug of tea and settling back into the couch. Your mind swims as you take a sip and stare into the crackling flames in front of you. 

How would it feel? 

To be on the receiving end of a bite like that? 

You remember the feeling of his tongue well. It was strange then, cold, wet, and long. But how about his lips? His teeth? The brush of his nose on your skin? 

You swallow your sip of lukewarm tea and cough a little on it. You must have lost more than just your mind down there in the basement. Or maybe… you’ve gained something. Looking at Alucard now, your wonderings become less wondering and more concrete. 

“Are you hungry?” The words slip out before you even have half a mind to stop them.

Crimson eyes glitter for a moment, brought to life. Alucard’s lips twist into that villainous smile you’ve come to know well. “For you? Master, always.” He purrs and inclines his head in confirmation, lidded eyes staring at you through dark lashes. It's quick, but you catch the flick of a hungry tongue along his bottom lip. 

Your breath catches in your throat at that. Unable to look at him, you avert your eyes to the silver vase above the fireplace and clutch your mug a bit tighter. “I think…” You begin to get up from the sofa, hoping the walk to your room will calm your thrumming heart. “... I should head to bed.” 

“Oh, yes, It’s very late.” Alucard’s voice is filled with knowing. He too stands and follows behind you at an easy pace. 

“Why did you say that?” You ask when you’re in the privacy of your room after brushing your teeth and washing your face. Rummaging through your dresser for a pair of pajamas is your best excuse for not looking at him. Alucard’s answer to your question had been playing in your head since he’d said it.

“Say what, my dear master?” Alucard’s boots tap on the marble as he nears you. 

You watch his shadow move behind you, cast by the flickering light of a candle at your bedside. “You know what.” 

“Why did I say that? Hm… The same reason you asked it, I suppose.” 

You tense when two hands slide past your own and pluck a set of pajamas out of the drawer for you. No more excuses. You take the set and slowly turn to face him. The same reason I asked him? You weren’t sure what that was supposed to mean — no, wait — interest. Maybe a little more than interest. Yes, interest is a title you’re comfortable calling this feeling. You’re interested in those teeth of his. You’re interested in the ever-changing length of his hair, which seems longer when he's excited. You’re interested in his unusual clothes, in his eyes, in his purring tone, in the way he converses with you, and in the way he’s looking at you right now. 

“Turn around,” you order, spinning your finger in the air. 

Alucard turns, long, black hair sweeping in the air before settling in messy waves down his back. He’s so tall he blocks the candlelight from you. “You don't need my help getting changed, then?” 

Your grip tightens momentarily on your pajamas as you glare at the back of his head. “Since when did I ever need your help?” 

“I recall a time.” 

“A time that wasn’t your own doing?” 

“Touché.” 

You almost snort out a laugh while you also turn your back to him and begin to shrug off your clothes from the day. The set that Alucard had selected was more comfortable than they were flattering. Plain and unremarkable. You toss your old clothes into the hamper before brushing past him. 

A firm hand catches your arm, causing you to stumble before you turn to look up at Alucard. 

“Tell me what you were thinking about down in the drawing room.” He’s serious. You see no playful twinkle in his eyes. 

Part of you wants to come back at him with a cheeky remark about whether or not he should be making demands of you… but you want him to know. “I was…” you slide your arm out of his grasp, collecting your thoughts. “... Thinking about your teeth.” It sounds strange out loud, so you wince slightly.

Alucard looks vaguely confused. “My teeth?” He grins as if to show them off in all their sharp, jagged glory. “What, not white enough for you?” 

You scoff. Nothing would remove centuries of blood staining. Besides, he’d only be even more creepy if his teeth were pearly white. “Not that.” 

“Then what? Too sharp?” 

“No. I was only wondering what a bite from you would feel like.” You say it casually as your nerves build and your confidence in steering the conversation toward your unspoken end goal falters. You turn to climb into bed but are stopped by a hand gripping the back of your shirt. Again, you stumble to a stop.

“Ah? Now you have to elaborate. A bite from me? Master, is it possible that you… want me to bite you?” 

You feel heat rush to your cheeks, shoulders tensing where you stand. Alucard doesn't give you a chance to speak, though. 

“Ah, I can’t do that, now can I? I promised no harm would come to you. Unless you really want it.” The last few words are muttered right up against your ear. 

You shiver quite obviously and cross your arms over your chest. “Your coaxing won't work,” you mutter, squeezing your eyes shut as you feel a pair of hands ghost down your waist.

You both know it already has. 

Alucard whispers a word in a language you’re unfamiliar with. It sounds like a curse; quick, hissed, and heavy. The sound has your nerves tingling and your head tilting like you might catch it again. 

He sweeps you around with a firm hand and you’re quick to cling onto him. Fingers dig into the strange texture of his coat and you look up, bewildered, and standing on your tippy-toes. In a blur, you’re seated on your bed. Your weight sinks into it in time with Alucard sinking to his knees. 

Before you can even react with any amount of flusteredness, your hand is taken in Alucard’s and your eyes are captured in the deep crimson of his own. 

“I-it seems like you want it more than me,” you stammer, beginning to sweat due to your climbing body temperature. 

“So you do want it,” purrs Alucard, whose eyes go wide with excitement. Before you can speak a false objection, Alucard tugs your hand. “Where shall I bite, master? Here?” His lips brush against your wrist. 

You blink down at him quickly, your heart skipping a beat as you stammer some more. 

Alucard’s mouth trails higher, bottom lip dragging softly up to the meaty part of your forearm. “Here?” he whispers, like a demon in your ear. 

You gulp down a sigh and will yourself to think. It was as if your brain had turned to mush. There? No. You shake your head slightly and shudder as those lips trail higher. 

“Here?” He’s at your bicep. 

Through the hammering of your heart, you manage another shake of your head. No. 

When Alucard’s lips brush against your shoulder, you jolt and shift your dangling legs. Bare toes press into the warm fabric on his thighs. You feel the muscle underneath, strong, and undying. His body is between your thighs now, leaning ever closer. 

“Here?” 

“No,” you whisper, fingers gathering into the lapels of his coat, subconsciously pulling him in. 

Alucard leans closer, arms sliding past your waist to plant on either side of you. He rises higher on his knees and your legs slip further apart at the motion. Your nose is filled with the scent of him; strange, coppery, and somewhat sweet. 

There’s a tension there, palpable in the air. You felt like if you moved in any way that string pulled taut in the air would snap and the both of you would fall into a discordant mess.

Alucard noses gently into the crook of your neck and your eyelids flutter. His breath is hot and you catch the wavering of excitement in it. Soft hair tickles your cheek and warm lips ghost across your neck and you grab him. It's unspoken and instantaneous. You dig your fingers into his hair and pull him close, muttering ‘Right there.’ 

Alucard hums low against your skin, pressing up against you like a lulling tide. Chest to chest. His lips part and you feel the slow lave of that long tongue along the side of your neck. It makes you shudder out a gasp, a nervous jitter growing in your belly. Alucard’s teeth drag and then snag and he holds you against himself before he bites. 

“Ow, Oww!” You screw your eyes shut and crane your neck away, fingers digging into his hair. It hurt. You kick your legs out and bring them back in, digging your heels into his spine. It hurt bad. For a moment, with his teeth dug in deep, you wonder if pain alone can kill you. Tears spring at the corners of your eyes, only slightly soothed by Alucard gently removing his teeth to lick around the bleeding wound. 

Alucard hums a sound that makes you feel as if you’ve done a good thing. Praise. He gathers you into his lap, sliding you carefully off the edge of the bed and onto his thighs. There, he places warm, bloody kisses across your neck, occasionally stopping to suck lightly at the wound and swallowing with a shuddered breath. 

Your thoughts go from pondering death to nothing at all. You cling to him thoughtlessly, feeling no more pain. It had been replaced with a slow-building pleasure that seemed to spread out from your neck, where he laid a thousand affections. Your legs lay out haphazardly on either side of him and not even the chill of the cool marble on the soles of your feet is enough to distract you from his teeth and tongue. You’re crying, you think… but you’re not sad or in pain. There’s a feeling lulling in your chest, heavy and strong. It pushes at your ribcage like it knew his was right there pressed up against it; like if your chest could open up it would fill his with that feeling too. You wonder deliriously if Alucard’s heart beats so strongly too, or if it even beats at all. 

“There, there, master.” Alucard pulls away from your throat with a gulping sigh. He rocks you slowly, a soothing hand rubbing up and down your spine. “Have I satisfied your curiosity?” 

You nod your head faintly where it lays on his shoulder, wet eyelids drooping. 

The lack of a biting comeback or witty words from you has Alucard laughing deep in the back of his throat, like the purr of a dragon. He licks his lips, tilting his head to breathe in the scent of your hair. “My sweet, sweet, darling master.”

You feel weak in the morning. Dull, winter sunlight cast through your window, waking you from a deep, dreamless sleep. It had taken you just a couple of moments to realize your neck had been carefully treated and bandaged sometime in the night. There’s still a dull ache there, and a bruise, probably. 

The next thing you notice is that you’re entirely alone. This would be the first time since you agreed to Alucard’s deal that you’ve woken up alone. You frown a little — no, maybe it's more of a pout — as you sit up in bed and push the covers aside. He always said good morning. Sometimes you even let him fix your hair, but that was more recent. 

“Alucard,” you call him, sliding your legs so that you’re perched on the side of your bed. 

There’s no response. Usually, he’d appear before you within moments, saying something silly like yes, master? What can I do for you, master? You look especially lovely today, master. It makes you blink a couple of times before clearing your throat and re-adjusting how you sat. 

“Alucard,” you tried again, a little more demanding this time.

 Nothing. 

Your bottom lip twitches as you feel a pang not only on your neck but in your chest. Why aren’t you here? Momentarily, a thousand worries erupt in your mind; he only ever wanted my blood. He’s got it, now he’s gone. Maybe drinking my blood was his final wish and he’s gone off to some other plane of existence like a satisfied ghost. You shake your head and force the thoughts out, reassuring yourself that he must be off doing something else. What else?

There’s nothing you can do about it, really, so you get yourself ready on your own and head downstairs for breakfast. 

Your family is quick to notice the bandage wrapped around your neck, eyebrows raising. Your brother speaks first. 

“What the heck is that?” he points his fork, accidentally flinging a bit of scrambled egg across the table. Your mother reaches out warningly, pushing his hand back down. 

You chew on your bottom lip, pushing your scrambled eggs around the plate while frantically trying to come up with an excuse. With a blink, you find it. “I was… I took a walk yesterday in the forest and got scratched by a branch.”

Your mother sets her fork down and fixes you with a worried look. “You shouldn’t be walking about alone in the forest. What if somebody kidnapped you? This place is so large we wouldn’t even hear your scream.”

“That’s morbid, dear,” your father murmurs from behind his newspaper, earning a scoff and eye-roll from your mother. 

“At least take your bother with you next time.” She picks her fork back up and resumes eating, giving you the same worried look your brother’s giving you, though his looks more suspicious. “And how- how deep is it?” She lifts a hesitant finger like the ghost of this mystery branch that supposedly wounded you would whip through the air and get her too. 

You swallow a bite of egg. “I don’t know. I felt it when I got back so it must not have been that deep.” Out of the corner of your eye, you catch your little sister slowly tilting her head at you. Before she can say anything you shake your head the smallest amount at her. She closes her mouth, glancing at Mom before continuing to eat her cereal as if she hadn’t figured anything out. 

After breakfast, when you’re on your way to the garden to look for Alucard, you feel tiny hands grasp onto the hem of your shirt. Curious, you stop and turn around, pausing just before the two large front doors. Your sister’s looking up at you with a pouty bottom lip. You say her name sweetly and crouch so that the two of you are the same height. “What’s the matter?”

“Al bit you.” Her voice is wobbly like she might cry. “I told him to be nice to you!”

“Oh,” you sigh, heart clenching. “He is being nice to me.” Sort of. You glance sideways nervously.

“But he bit you!” Your sister reaches up to poke at the bandage wrapped around your neck. Thankfully, her jabbing fingers don't press on anything tender. 

You take up her smaller hand in yours. “I…” How does one go about explaining this to a seven-year-old? “... I let him. It’s alright.” 

Your sister scrunches her nose and tilts her head. “Huh?” 

Oh boy, you think with a sigh. “Well, Al um- he- uh- well, he needs blood to survive.” That was sort of a lie. Alucard just needed blood so he didnt turn into a rotten old raisin, but your sister didn’t need to know that. 

She gawks at you. “He’s a vampire?” 

“Well…” Really, you had nowhere else to go with this. “... Yes.” You wince, hoping you won't hear a shriek of horror or something similar. 

“Cool.” 

“C-cool?” You blink. 

“Yeah, cooler than a ghost.”

Wait, she knew he was a ghost? You decide not to ask her any of your boiling questions. You were sort of in the middle of something. Looking for Alucard. Speaking of which. “Have you seen Al at all today?” You steer the conversation away from his apparent vampirism and towards his whereabouts. 

Your sister shakes her head ‘no.’ “Have you?” She tilts her head. 

“No, I…” you stand to your full height, brushing off your knees. “... Haven't seen him at all today. Usually, he says good morning to me.” Looking towards the doors, you notice your sister hasn’t said anything in return. At her silence, you glance back down at her only to find her smiling like she knows something you don’t. “What?”

“Nothing,” she giggles. 

“You know something.”

“Nuh-uh.”

“Tell me.” 

“No.” 

“Tell me.” You wiggle your fingers warningly. Your sister bursts into laughter before you can even tickle her, backing a few paces away and holding her sides. 

“Okay! Umm… I think he likes you.” 

You feel heat rush to your cheeks. “Likes me?” You’d guessed that much after all the kneeling devotion, but it felt flustering to hear it acknowledged out loud. 

“Uh-huh. He asks me about you sometimes.”

“What… kinds of things does he ask?”

The small girl taps a finger on her chin. “Um… he asked me what your favorite book was but I dunno that. He also asked me your bedtime but I dunno that either. Oh, he asked me your favorite tea. I knew that one!” 

Ah, no wonder you’d find a cup of your favorite tea set out whenever you craved it. 

“Don't tell him I told you,” your sister gives you a worried look. “I don’t want him to be mad at me.” 

“Oh, I doubt he’d be mad at you.” You reach down and ruffle her hair. “From what I can tell, he cares about you very much.” 

You’d checked the garden, hoping to find Alucard amongst the hedges, but were met with nothing but frosted leaves and distant birdsong. You called, but nothing came. 

The dining room was empty and you found the overcast lighting too dreary and depressing to stay around for long. Months ago, you’d encountered him here in the dark of your lamp going out. Now, it was cold and empty. You called, but nothing came.

You checked many of the other empty rooms, most of them dusty and containing sheet-covered furniture. You called to Alucard in each of them but received no answer. 

The last place you could think to look was the basement. You still dreaded going near it even though every threat it possibly held had been removed; even the mold, which was what the inspector had commented on when your father called for one back when it was discovered. You were getting desperate, though, and your earlier fears of Alucard leaving you — which you’d previously dismissed — were starting to feel too real. So, you made your way down to the basement, into the part of the manor that was left alone despite it being fixed up — like that side had a permanent plague that permeated the air. 

The basement door creaked open underneath the push of your hand and with it, a gust of cool, damp air. “Alucard?” you call down into the dark, squinting into the strange darkness that allowed you no more than a few feet of visibility in front of you. Your voice echoed down into nothingness.

Like all the other places you’d looked; it was empty. You didn’t feel him here like you felt him when he was around. Alucard always filled up the room with his presence. At one point, that feeling had been choking and uncomfortable, but now, after weeks and weeks of his presence, you’d come to find it a comfort. 

Without it, you felt… cold and alone. 

It was nearly sundown now. The halls of the manor were a hazy orange as the sun dipped down the horizon and lit the clouds up like pink-tipped fire. You skipped dinner, feigning a stomachache, and made your way up staircase after staircase, heading to your room. 

You wouldn't cry. You told yourself you wouldn’t cry. It was stupid. He was only gone for a day. But he could’ve told me why. You don't know why it’s so upsetting. You should be overjoyed that he’s disappeared.

 No… I can’t keep lying to myself like this. You push the door to your bedroom open, wiping your wrist on damp eyelids. The truth was you’d been hoping to see him that morning after he’d bitten you. You were hoping for tender, cooing words. Hoping to be coddled a little, cared for, and looked after. Before you thought too hard about it and made yourself actually cry, you cut the thoughts off.  A shower should ease your mind. You were sweaty from walking up and down stairs and checking in every room of the manor for Alucard. Maybe that was part of the reason you felt so emotional. 

Pushing the door closed behind you with your heel, you look towards your dresser when you notice a shape in the corner of your room by your bookshelf. There Alucard stands, book in hand, flipping through page after page. You feel relief first, then joy, then anger. The latter comes out in a growl, like a wounded animal. 

“Where were you?” You stay put by the closed door, glaring at him and quickly wiping away whatever dampness still hung around your eyes. 

Alucard looks up from the book he was pretending to be interested in and snaps it closed. It disappears from his hand a second later. “Forgive me, I had something that needed taking care of.” His expression changes for a moment as he looks at you more closely. Long arms fold behind his back and he slowly makes his way towards you, head cocked. 

Your glare turns colder. “You could’ve told me before you decided to disappear for a whole day.” 

Alucard leans down, long, black hair sliding off his shoulder. “Were you looking for me?” His tone is surprised and he can't seem to help the quirk of a lip. A gloved hand reaches to capture your chin, tilting your head up. 

“Don’t change the subject,” you avert your eyes and pull your chin free from his grasp. “I don't believe your excuse. Why were you gone all day? Why didn’t you tell me?” You focus on the marble of the floor, inspecting the dull, swirling shapes within it. When Alucard doesn’t answer you, you look up at him, irritated and confused. 

He’s smiling down at you faintly, straightened up to his full height. “Hm.” His eyes flick down your body so fast you question if what you’ve seen was real. “I was out of sorts by morning, master, you see; your blood is very stimulating.” There’s a wild shimmer of glee in his eyes, which narrow as his jagged smile widens. 

You stiffen, watching him out of the corner of your eyes as he circles you. Stimulating? Alucard circles slowly, once, twice, and your eyes widen when he comes to stop in front of you once more. “You were…?” You gawk at him. 

Alucard bursts into laughter, deep and rumbling. The sound reverberates in your ribs and leaves you wide-eyed and shy. 

“Ew!” You shove his chest, ignoring the way he didn’t even falter, and rush to your dresser to pull out a change of clothes. “I’m showering. You stay here!” Flustered, you quickly make your way out of your room and to the bathroom. You didn’t want to hear any more, especially not when it made you feel�� like that. 

The tile is cool under your toes as you strip and prepare the shower.

Your blood is very stimulating.

Alucard’s words echo in your head as you gently peel the bloodied bandage away from your neck. It’s already scabbed over. You're thankful for that as you step under the steaming stream of water. You cup your hands, letting them fill with water before splashing it on your face. It’s not very refreshing. The water’s hot and it does little to erase the image of him pacing around you in your mind. 

You think — rubbing water from your eyes — that your blood couldn’t possibly be so stimulating it put him out of commission for the entire day. Wasn’t he an all-powerful vampire? 

You open the lid to your soap and pour a little in your palm. 

No, that was just it, wasn’t it? Alucard had mentioned weeks and weeks ago how he found enjoyment in — as he put it — delicate things. Mortal things. 

Your hands rub the soap across your arms. 

Had he really been…? You can’t even bring yourself to think the words. Just imagining Alucard like that was too… too… mortal. Too human. 

Soapy fingers glide down your chest. 

He was an all-powerful vampire. Surely he didn’t have a need for mortal pleasures; unbuckled pants and slicked fingers. You see him for a moment, without the coat, with a few buttons undone, with a little more skin showing, glittering, sharp teeth, and heavy breath and you suddenly feel too hot under the water. 

When you return from your shower with damp hair and warm skin you can’t bring yourself to look at Alucard. He’s sitting at the foot of your bed. You can see the dark shape of him out of the corner of your eye but make no move to acknowledge him. 

He acknowledges you, though. The vampire rises from his perch, peering at you as you pass by to fluff your pillow and pull back your covers. 

You don’t want to look at him. Something’s changed in you — you see it now. The idea that he’d been so out of sorts because of you, well, what wasn't flattering about rendering an ancient vampire to that kind of state? Not only that, you realize; you’ve been rendering him to all sorts of states the entire time. How many times had he pledged his loyalty, dropped to a knee, and proven himself with unwavering patience as you try time and time again to wrap your head around your situation?  

“Is something the matter?” 

The low, steady tone of Alucard’s voice draws you out of your head and you catch yourself bristling like he might've been listening in. You know he hadn’t and that he wouldn’t. Not after you’d told him not to. 

You can’t seem to find words. Instead, you busy yourself with making your covers as wrinkle-free as possible, which is ridiculous, considering you’re about to climb in them. 

Alucard steps a little closer. You can practically feel him leaning over you. “Did you set the water a little too hot, master?” His voice lowers. “I can hear your heartbeat. It’s rather… fast.” 

You feel your skin prickle at his comment, side-eying his shadow in the candlelight with wide eyes. Even without reading your mind, he could find you out one way or another. You’re quick to try and change the subject. “There’s no way you’d be gone that long if you were doing that.” You bring your previous conversation back to light. 

“Doing what, master?” Alucard smiles something slimy and knowing for having such a coy tone. 

Flustered now, and desperate to avert his attention from your rising heartbeat and straying imagination, you stammer. “You… You… You know what.” You round to face him, eyes trailing quickly up each button of his coat until you’re looking into narrowed, gleaming, red eyes. 

Alucard hums softly and tilts his head to the side before leaning down in an unnatural fashion. “Touching myself?” His breath blows a strand of his dark hair against your burning cheek when he speaks. 

“You’re a pervert.” You quickly avert your eyes, confirmation making your head swim more and more. He was so close. So close you could feel his breath on your cheek. So close you could dig your fingers into the fabric of his coat and— 

“And why is that?” Alucard puts on a fake pout, tone dipping into something more condescending. 

What? You watch his puffed-out bottom lip move as his lips twist into a grin and catch yourself biting your own. You feel like you’re forgetting. Forgetting words, forgetting why you were even putting up a fight and trying to hide from him. Why is he a pervert..? You spin the question around and around in your mind but can't seem to even care enough to find an answer. All you know is that he’s teasing you. 

“No answer?” Alucard studies your face like one would inspect an interesting artifact. 

You can think of nothing to say. Nothing, until — amidst you clinging on desperately to the last strings of your resistance — a question comes to mind. One last test. Something that had been nudging the back of your mind for a short while.

“... Just my blood?” 

Alucard’s features twitch faintly with confusion. He turns his head a little, pointed ear closer to your lips. “What was that?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut for a moment before opening them and fixating on the topmost button of his grey suit. “Was it just my blood that made you feel that way?” You suddenly feel a little ridiculous for even asking, not wanting to seem like some lovesick fool in front of him. Were you? It scares you to confront it and you lift a hand to cover your eyes. 

There’s a ringing silence that makes you want, more and more, to sink into the floor and go to whatever dark room Alucard had pulled you into once so long ago. 

But then there’s a rustle of fabric and a gentle hand clasps your wrist, pulling your hand away from your eyes. You catch a glimpse of some tender expression on Alucard’s usually jagged features and quickly hide away from it with a duck of your head. 

He doesn't let it last, long fingers catching your chin and raising your eyes to his. “Look at me,” he urges you sweetly when your eyes try and dance away. A faint smile — something gentle — graces his features when he watches you struggle to maintain eye contact. “My little master, always so headstrong. Who knew you could get so shy? Is that what you’ve been hiding from me?” He leans closer and doesn't miss the way your bottom lip trembles. “It’s never been about your blood. Last night, when you gifted me a taste, I did not feel as if I was drinking blood; but you.”

His words feel tangible like they’re plucking at every rib in your chest. You’re sure he can hear your thundering heart. You can. You can hear it. That and feel a trembling need. Like some beast had just woken up in your chest, unafraid now of being seen. Your fingers tremble as they twist the hem of your shirt and you can no longer bear staring into his eyes. You turn your head sideways to hide once more but Alucard brings you back to him with a firmer jerk of his hand. You exhale louder than you’d wished to, heart spiking. 

You realize he wants you to say something but you feel like there’s cotton in your mouth. You try anyway, holding onto the lapels of his crimson coat. “I… I think…” Your head’s spinning and a thousand words buzz past you too quickly to select any. 

You make up your mind and Alucard seems to sense it just as you do. He drops your chin, weaving his arms around your waist just as you rise onto your toes and drape your arms around his neck. 

His hair’s like a curtain around you, long and soft. His lips are soft too, meeting you halfway and with a low purr that makes you dizzy. Your breath mixes sweetness, dipping into the saccharine. Sharp teeth graze your bottom lip, the blade of his nose pressing against your cheek as you both tilt your heads to get closer. 

Teeth and tongue.

Next

[moliathh]

crossover: hellsing x identity v (Tarot gamemode)

Two factions: Hellsing Organisation and Vatican Section XVIII: Iscariot

Kings: Integra and Enrico

Squires: Seras/Walter and Yumiko/Heinkel

Knights (Hunters): Alucard and Anderson

(another part of hellsing/idv crossover)

[faithintheunknownsblog]

Would yall be opposed to having a blessed chainsaw being a weapon option?

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

How successful would Seras Victoria…

Would you like to submit a character? Click this link if you do!

[bxte-2-drxnk]

hiii to folks that may or may not know me !!

my name is tseli (she/they/xem) & this a sideblog for my hellsing content since it’s likely gonna be one of my central coping mechanisms for the next few years

my main blog is @tseliius !

this is just the little corner where i shove all my canon content, oc content, writing, and (self-made) hellsing sequel yapping.

these ocs include but are not limited to:

🥀 aleera mészáros, resident vampire whore & self-indulgent alucard s/o

🐺 tatiana randolf, teenage lesbian otaku werewolf extraordinaire (in that order)

🦇 livia drăculea, weird soul-clone of alucard with the worst mood swings ever

🗡️ esther / asthore finn, iscariot’s saccharine schoolgirl who is very “stabby stabby die die” about most things, actually

🐦‍🔥 the armageddon organization, resident fuckass doomsday cult & main bad guys of hellsing: resurrection (my fanmade sequel)

you may also spot random posts in-character so you can interact ^.^

my only requests are to be kind and respectful. i am cringe and i am free, bullies and general assholes (basic dni criteria) will be blocked

i’m just here to have fun and mash my touys together and i want you to have fun too 🩷

[nooowestayandgetcaught]

The Brat And The Beast

read on AO3

~1k, Alucard/Integra Hellsing, T-rating, Pre-Canon Summary: Integra gets lessons on how to stitch herself up. From a vampire.

[zestyaahbutler]

Wait is her psychiatrist Hannibal?!?!

Hey!! Something like that 🙂 her psychiatrist is heavily inspired by Hannibal.

I really enjoyed Silence of the Lambs and the Hannibal series and movies. I haven't read the books which I really should. But I am super interested in Hannibal as a character. I'm also a firm enjoyer of the cannibal trope as both a metaphor for love but also exploitation of power/ego.

Shes a redhead with a 70s blowout. Think curtain bangs but this is another image that is very her energy.

Amulya's psychiatrist is a woman by the name of Milana Spezia Deodato. She is an Italian woman that originates from a family of werewolf hunters. From a young age she was raised to be a hunter and it caused her to develop some peculiar behaviors and habits as a result. On the outside though, she is a very intelligent woman who at most seems a little eccentric and polite but snooty. She is also known as a very good cook! She was hired in the 1970s by Hellsing via a recommendation l from Sir Islands.

In my lore, I have it as Islands beinf part of the roundtable but his family owns and runs hospitals. Milana did her years of residency at one of the hospitals that the Islands operated. She obviously made an impression with the family and Islands himself for her background in monster hunting and how she was researching how to apply it to her field of psychiatry. Islands suggested her to Arthur for a new department of Hellsing that was focused in rehabilitating individuals who had experienced encounters with the supernatural. This was in hopes of keeping the operations of Hellsing from the public more and that people could return to normalcy in an easier fashion. Some people who have those experiences never exactly recover.

For Milana, she was given people to research and treat, while she got a good paycheck. But it also gave her plenty of food. Her cannibal habits are not known by anyone in Hellsing(aside from Walter ofc but listennn). Anybody she takes are simply seen as having fallen in battle and missing. She was always very good at covering her tracks.

Arthur handing Amulya to her was out of desperation because realistically, Amulya couldn't express the worries she had to any psychiatrist. It would put Hellsing at risk. Additionally, it gave Amulya someone in-house to talk to. If she had an episode, she always had immediate support through someone with actual experience and licensing.

Amulya came to rely on her and was being treated properly for some time. Many of her lapses was due to her own spiraling.

Milana had varying thoughts on her. She found her intriguing and a good ticket to get a look at what Arthur is like behind closed doors. She found herself very entertained by her dynamic between Amulya and Walter. She knew of his feelings from observing them both. It wasn't neccesarily wanting to match them up but more that she was interesting in seeing what would happen. The possibilities, the reactions of them all. She did eventually get bored of the situation. Milana did know Amulya was going to commit suicide before it occurred. It was how it affect Arthur, Walter, and anyone else in the organization. She got what she wanted, though she was out under alot of pressure by Arthur after the fact but Amulya's death was seen as her mental state getting the better of her.

After one of her attempts, Milana did start doing sessions with Walter. It was a conflict of interest but they couldn't exactly afford anyone outside of the organization. Their sessions was ordered by Arthur so Walter couldn't exactly refuse. Walter was never a fan of her. She had a habit of prodding anyone she talked to so he felt like he was always under a microscope. He never wanted to be analyzed while all she wanted to do was analyze him. Milana knew he was involved in an organization separate from Hellsing while he found out she was a murderer and cannibal. He was disgusted with her despite his own actions. Really they were two fucked up individuals that found a messed up but hesitant (on Walter's side) kinship with one another.

Milana remains in Hellsing till after the battle of London where she moves to America for a new start and new roster of meals.

Her and Walter's dynamic is this:

[alucardsathomewife]

Hellsing oc drop

Finally got him done, named Tom for slightly obvious reasons

Will be drawing ship art of him and Alucard, I have so many angst/fluff ideas

Some lore dump:

September 25th (somewhere in the hellsing ultimate timeline year[?])

27 years old

He is just a normal human with a friendly, introverted personality, so great for working with the Alucard ❤️

Childhood filled with super religious parents/community and ultimately the start to his trauma.

On the side outside of hellsing, he enjoys a bit of singing and puzzles/mystery games.

[couldtheyescortelliewilliams]

Do you want to submit a potential protector for Ellie? Click here if you do!

[zevanthsnecromancy]

Instead of calling her a sow and Alucard coming out to threaten him. Integras quick to fire back some shade. Alucard mid phasing through the wall loses his mind laughing at Integras insult.

[married2avampire]

The Way You Look Tonight

Chapter Nine • Seduction

Ao3 | tip jar | Next

A/n: The NSFW chapter is here!! I let my freak flag fly with this one. You’ve been warned. 

Contents: MULTI-CHAPTER, Alucard (Hellsing)/fem!reader, NSFW, written in 2nd person, relatively ambiguous time period but pre-2000s, reader and family members descriptions (other than clothes and personalities) are kept ambiguous for the sake of inclusion, ghost Alucard (kind of?), spooky stuff, Integra is dead and the Hellsing Organization has been dissolved, Alucard in the flesh, super duper vague yandere/obsessive themes, I’m on team Alucard With Long Hair, blasphemous sex, pretty much just monsterfucking, (kind of) femdom themes

4k words

You’re laid against the bed slowly, Alucard���s gentle hands cradling you as he joins you. His kisses are dizzying and metallic and his sharp teeth graze your bottom lip. It’s not an unwelcome feeling. In fact—as you card your fingers through his hair—you find yourself opening your mouth.

 The tongue that meets your own is long and strange. It fills your mouth, curling against the roof of it. You should find it disgusting, but your panties are slick under your pajamas and your heart is racing so quickly it’s beginning to hurt. 

Alucard pulls away with a sigh, his long tongue slipping from your lips, leaving them wet and lightly swollen. You suck in a breath you didn’t know you’d been needing and wipe your lips with the back of your hand, disappointed.

“Too much?” Alucard queries above you, to which you shake your head vigorously, ‘No.’

You want it again. Some hungry beast claws at your lower belly and you stare, open-mouthed, at the man before you. “Kiss me,” you demand, and he does. He scoops his arms underneath you, adjusting only to deepen the kiss. 

While the methodical moment of his mouth distracts you, Alucard glides a bare hand down your belly. Cold fingers tickle at your waistband, lifting, sliding past. You can only sigh against him, arms tangling around his neck, subdued, and finally, finally submitting to this feeling. 

How long had you really felt this way? How long had you been suppressing it? You’re not sure. Somewhere along the way, Alucard had stopped looking like a monster—or rather—he’d always looked like one, been one; you’d simply fallen in love with him. Despite it? Because of it? You’re not sure. 

What you are sure about is that you’d suppressed it long enough to feel a longing ache deep in your gut when Alucard’s fingers trail lightly down, far past your navel. 

He pulls away again, leaving you breathless and wiping away spit once more. “So flushed,” remarks Alucard warmly. “Do you like it?” He tilts his head, lips curling to show off a toothy smile. “How I kiss you?” 

Embarrassed, you turn your head slightly to avoid his gaze. “I do.” Your voice is a little hoarse. 

“It’s messy,” he says like he’s trying to convince you to change your mind. Alucard tilts his head the other way, sliding his hand further into your panties. “Though, I suppose, stuff like that doesn’t bother you. Am I right, master?” 

You swallow thickly, eyes darting down to where his wrist disappears into your pajamas. “Don’t… call me that in-in bed,” you whisper, avoiding the question. It was startling to admit it. You were in bed together.

“Mm? What should I call you?” Cool fingers trace your slick lips, feather-light. It’s teasing. He’s driving you mad. “Darling? Dearest? My love?” Alucard leans in, his chest pressing down on yours. There, nosing against your ear, he whispers your name as a sweet question. 

You’d never heard it from his lips before. In fact, you’re pretty sure you never told him it. Though, it was no surprise that he’d learned it anyway. It makes you shiver, unable to hide your quick inhale. 

“That got a reaction from you. Should I say them all?” 

You nod, lifting your hips faintly, wanting more. 

Alucard indulges you with a low chuckle. Fingers—now warmed from your blazing skin—slide between your folds. They find your clit rather quickly and give a tender, experimental circle. 

You sigh as your eyes fall closed. You’d never felt his hands before. They were always thinly veiled by his gloves. But now, you felt them with dizzying clarity: long fingers, rough fingertips, and careful pressure. Alucard was slow and studying. 

You hear the sheets shift and a weight presses to your side. Alucard’s lain beside you, an arm sliding under your neck so you fit against that spot between his shoulder and chest. When your eyes open, you’re greeted with a crimson gaze narrowed at you lovingly. 

You dart away from the expression, shy, and glance back down to where his wrist disappears into your panties. The sight alone makes your thighs press together around his wrist, stopping his movements. You don’t want Alucard to stop. You want him to continue. Keep going. Slide further. 

“Is this your way of telling me to work harder?” Alucard hums against your temple, where he leaves a kiss. Two slicked fingers tap your clit once, twice, then you feel the blade of Alucard’s nose brush your cheek. 

“I dunno,” you answer honestly and barely above a whisper. Heart thrumming, you squeeze closer to his side, turning your cheek to bury your face in the collar of his shirt and his soft, thick hair. 

You didn’t know. You didn’t know anything right now, really. Should you be doing something? Thinking something? How could anyone think at all in a moment like this? 

“You’re nervous?” Alucard hums above you, copying your whisper, though far less shyly. 

You answer his question with a nod, burying your fingers in his vest. His coat had been left behind some time ago, sunk into the shadows, and gone before you could remember it. 

Alucard’s hand goes limp between your thighs where you hold it tightly and your heart drops for a moment, thinking he’s about to stop. 

“Alright.” The arm under your neck curls. You feel the muscle of Alucard’s bicep bunch underneath you as his hand lays over your head protectively, holding you there against his shoulder. 

You can’t see a thing. It’s just darkness and senses here—and the scent of him. You lean into it, twisting, sliding an arm across him to secure it on his opposite shoulder. Alucard chuckles above you, cheek resting on your forehead. 

“Yes,” he encourages you. “Hide from the world. Forget about all of it.” 

Something clicks in your mind and you tilt your head, pressing your lips against the side of Alucard's neck. You hear it then; a change in his breathing. What was once unnoticeable and so silent you wondered if he even ever breathed was now deliberately measured and audible. God, you want it. “Please, keep going,” you mutter so quietly you’re unsure if you’ve actually spoken at all. Hesitantly, your legs fall open. 

Alucard seems to have heard you just fine and his hand comes back to life, sliding two of his long fingers around and around your clit. It’s not enough to bring you near finishing, but it makes you want with a panting breath. You’re not sure you’ve ever gotten this soaked before. In fact, there’s a little worry that you’re leaving a wet spot on the comforter. 

You tug on the gray of his vest, hips lifting slightly, chasing his fingers, and then…you feel them slide lower. Words sing in your mind; yes, yes yes. One long finger—his middle—dips into your entrance. It’s gentle. He's feeling you, becoming familiar with the ins and outs of this very private place. And when Alucard seems properly acquainted with that silky velvet, he slides a finger in. 

You tense and make a quiet sound against him. It doesn’t hurt. Not at all. No; it’s just a little strange having someone else doing it. 

“There, there,” Alucard coos. He’s knuckle-deep and cups his palm over you. Something about the pressure, the safety of that motion, and of his words, has you moaning quietly into his neck. He swallows, shifting his hand to deliver slow, pressing circles. Alucard’s finger stirs you a little and you feel your skin go hot at the sounds such a simple motion makes. “You want another?” Alucard squeezes you tighter to him. “There’s room.”

“Mm-hm.” You nod, tilting your head to suck at his neck. He tastes human, though there’s a faint difference in temperature that just feels off. 

The hand that held the back of your head slides down to find a more clawing grip on your shoulder. Alucard’s breathing sounds—just for a moment—like some shuddering animal as he slides his finger halfway out to make room for the second. 

This time it’s a little uncomfortable. That is… until Alucard slides both fingers all the way inside of you and you find the slight burn of the stretch far more pleasurable than you’d anticipated. 

The pace he takes is a little faster than before. His palm meets your clit every once in a while with a little smack that has your hips lifting for more. 

“That’s it,” Alucard breathes above you, watching intently the way your legs spread just a bit wider. “Two with little trouble. You’re that relaxed around me, aren’t you?” It’s said as more of a statement than a question 

There’s a clawing need creeping up your throat. You’re getting desperate and every little hum of pleasure that you make isn’t enough anymore to express how you’re feeling. “Please, please, Alucard.” You claw at his chest, nudging your nose against his jaw. 

The claw-like hand that grips your shoulder tightens and you feel the prick of nails. “A third?” He breathes raggedly as his hand stills once more below your waistband. 

“Something,” you whine, frustration bubbling in the pit of your stomach. “Anything.” 

Alucard’s fingers start again, faster. For a brief moment, he seemed to have lost his composure. It makes you squeal and lift a leg as you nip your bottom lip. Like that. “Oh, yes,” you breathe him in, jostled slightly by his pace. Shyness melts away here, where you’re hidden in his darkness. It’s impossible to have it—that shyness—when Alucard’s long fingers are stroking the deepest parts of you. 

“Your voice is the sweetest thing I’ve heard in centuries.” Alucard’s tone sounds strained and he presses his cheek to the top of your head, slowly working you up to the precipice with every press of his fingers. 

“You mean it?” You breathlessly suck a mark against his jaw. It fades moments later. 

Alucard rolls his hips against your side and you feel something pressing into your hip. “Absolutely.” The hand gripping your shoulder shifts again to glide through your hair. He pulls it lightly, craning your neck back to capture your lips in a deep kiss. 

You hum into it as you grind on his hand which has gone still, fingers pressed deep inside of you. It pulls a needy whimper from you, to which Alucard returns with an affectionate hum of his own. When he pulls away, lips wet with your spit, it’s to smile with all his horrible teeth. 

“Are you feeling rather hot, my darling?” 

You were sweating. ‘Hot’ didn’t even begin to cover it. “Alucard.” Your rutting hips start to slow as a frustrated huff leaves you. “Are you having a lot of fun torturing me?” 

“Torturing you? Oh, my love, you wound me.” 

Vaguely, his words feel familiar. You can’t quite remember, though. “It is,” you whine. “This is torture. I want- I want…” You feel the press of him against your hip, heavy and hard through his pants. 

“What is it?” He leans in for another kiss and is surprised when you turn your cheek. 

You avoid his eyes, shy as you reach hesitantly to palm the bulge in his pants. One of his legs jerks slightly and you turn to look up at his expression. 

For a while, you wondered if vampires were capable of blushing. Now you know they most definitely do. Alucard’s pale cheeks are flushed crimson with the very blood you’d given him. His eyes are fixated on your hand and its circular motions. Slowly, he slides his fingers from you and wipes the slick on your pajamas. 

You fight a smile but Alucard does that for you when he thumbs the button of his pants. “This is what you want?” His eyes dart down to yours, curious, and gentle. He’s acting like he’d give you anything. Anything at all, if you asked.

 You nod. 

Alucard pushes the button out of its loop and you brush your hand aside to make room for his. The sound of a zipper greets your ears like music and you wonder how such a simple sound can make someone so aroused. 

Intently, you watch with your warm cheek pressed against his silky, red cravat. Alucard’s bare knuckles shift, pushing cloth aside to free himself and you suck in a breath through your nose at the sight of him. His cock stands flushed and twitching beneath a trail of dark hair. Your fingers fidget as you swallow, shifting your weight against him so that you can trail your hand along a sliver of bare hip. 

Alucard is patient, watching as your hand slowly pushes his shirt up above his navel before your fingers graze down along that trail of hair. Closer, closer, your fingers draw to that twitching length. 

You’re shy. He knows this. So he waits while trying to keep a set of claws sprouting from the gentle hand that cups your head. It’s a difficult thing to manage when your fingers wrap around him experimentally. 

“Warm,” you comment quietly, dragging your thumb over the slicked head.

Alucard purrs. “You should feel proud. Look what you’ve done to me.” 

You do feel proud. He was lifting into your touch just as you had done to his. Your hand squeezes just a little tighter as you drag it down and back up again. It draws a hiss between Alucard’s wolfish teeth, strong hips rolling upwards. 

Just as you’d been noticing, more and more; every sound he made, every movement felt magnified in your senses. You can’t help it. You really can't. Turning, you press a feverish kiss against Alucard’s lips. His hips pause, distracted and breathing heavily through his nose as you lick into his mouth, which he opens for you eagerly. He tries to say something, you think, but you’re too busy nipping his bottom lip to pay attention. Eventually, you pull away you catch your breath.

“Yes,” Alucard praises in a tone that borders on intense. “Take what you want. Show me what you’re made of.” His eyes look mad with lust and the gentle hand cradling your neck feels like it's made of metal; cold and sharp. 

Your muscles move on their own before you can even think, tugging off your pajama bottoms and your underthings with them. Alucard’s laugh rings in your ears, somewhat taunting, but mostly amused. 

He gazes up at you when you slide over him, hands planted firmly on his chest, and looks like he’s seeing the stars for the first time in an eternity. 

“Is that what you want from me?” You lower your hips only to slide yourself along the length of his cock. It twitches and Alucard’s lips pull into a snarl at the feeling of you. 

“That, and many other things,” he answers, laying a hand on your hip. It seems to be more for his own good rather than yours. 

You stammer around your words as you reach a hand below yourself and guide the head of his cock to your entrance. “What-what kinds of things?” You press down slowly, wincing a little at the stretch.

 Alucard’s reaction makes it all worth the sting. His hands grip your hips and his eyes glow in the flickering candlelight. He looks like he might cry, actually; eyebrows pinched together, drawn up, and his sharp teeth clenched tightly as he watches where your bodies join. “All the things,” he hisses. When he slides home, nestled deep inside of you, you sit on him fully with a moan. Alucard’s head falls back against your pillow. 

You watch, trembling with arousal as his long hair moves on its own, fanning out like a cobra in warning. It should scare you, the way his hands aren’t hands anymore; but jagged metal claws of armor jutting through his skin. It should scare you that the candle’s flickering wildly in some unseen wind, that the shadows are getting darker, and that Alucard’s restraint is about to snap entirely. You feel it in the air like a bow pulled taut, ready to let an arrow fly. But just like you always felt with him; you can’t bring yourself to care much about what you should be feeling. 

This— you think, as you rock your hips back and forth, feeling like you’re sitting upon some jagged, untouchable, dangerous throne—is the best you’ve ever felt in your life. It pulls a shameless moan from you and your fingers curl into the lapels of his wrinkled vest. “Oh, my god.” Breathless, you do exactly as he’d begged you to; you take. Grinding back and forth, feeling him press so deep you have half a mind to clutch your belly. 

“You… won't find that here,” chuckles Alucard lowly like the devil itself, looking rather proud to have you here in his lap. “Beautiful thing! Only for my eyes.” His claws curl around you, pricking your bare hip where they slip beneath your shirt. Alucard sounds like he’s preaching. The candle flickers more. 

“Please,” you moan, thighs burning. “Please, please, just fuck me.” You both know what sounds like whimpering begs are actually scathing, bratty orders. 

He loves it. That greedy fiend nestled deep in your heart. So human. Alucard plants his feet behind you and begins to roll his hips up into you, faster, until you’re letting him bounce you in his lap. 

You lean back on his bent knees like he really is your throne, moaning freely and without shame. Power sings in your veins. You’re drunk on it and he only gives you more. Each buck of his hips has you sighing, shivering, feeling satisfaction deep in your bones. When you look down at the man, the monster below you, he’s half-cast in trembling shadow, devouring the sight of you with hungry, glowing eyes. There’s more than just two. Your hazy gaze drifts to the shadows, where more glowing eyes watch you.

 It’s all Alucard, up to the hundredth eye that slides open along the tall, dark ceiling. It’s all him; the claws, the trembling candle about to go out, and the rutting hips below you. When you tense and arch your back, feeling your heart climb up into the back of your throat as you tell him you’re about to finish, Alucard does not waver. 

“Fuck, yes, yes,” your voice climbs higher as you tighten around him and lay forward, cheek pressing into the curve of his neck. It draws a shaky groan from Alucard, who wraps his arms tight around you and rolls his hips earnestly. Held tight, you shake, clawing at his chest beneath you as you reach your trembling peak. “Alucard-!”

“Yes, my love,” he moans, strained. “Yes, that’s it.” He sounds more monstrous as he continues to rut into you. Another pair of arms grasp your hips, this set feeling bony and cold as death. 

Shivering with damp, fluttering eyelashes, you moan brokenly against him. The candle's wild flickering wicks out and you’re bathed in darkness; swallowed by it. There’s a groan by your ear and then a long tongue laving over your cheek, then another, lower, across your jaw, and another down your neck. You smile faintly, drunken on the hips that roll into you and the hands that stroke and fondle. It's all him: every kiss, every touch, and every whisper in your ear. 

Hands hold you under your arms, lifting you, pulling you back against a monstrous chest. 

“Alucard,” you whimper in the dark. A claw of a hand cups your chin and cranes your neck back. You’re met with wide, glowing eyes and fingers that slide down your belly. With trembling fingers, you grasp the wrist belonging to that claw for stability.

“Oh, my love, you’re divine.” It sounds like a hundred voices speaking at once, all of them him. In Alucard’s own, horrifying way; he’s making love to you. It’s an all-consuming thing. Vaguely, you wonder if drowning you in it is part of the fun. 

You’re having fun, shivering where he holds you in this form which made no logical sense. But had he ever made any logical sense, other than his words? No, he hadn’t. Another sighing moan leaves your throat at every tender press of Alucard’s hips. It leaves your thighs trembling and you squirm, overstimulation buzzing your nerves. 

“I-I can’t take anymore,” you splutter as you stare up into those red eyes, which cast a hypnotic glow across your cheeks. 

“Oh,” he purrs condescendingly as he trails kisses down your throat and to your breast—metal clicks as those armored claws tug your shirt up and over your head. The voice by your ear continues. “You can. You’re a big girl.” Something soft laves over one of your nipples, wet and barely warmer than your own skin. The other is quickly occupied by a gentle, cupping hand. 

As if he was made of smoke, you feel yourself fall through the broad chest you’d been leaning against. Your back meets the mattress and you let out a thrilled sigh when Alucard gathers your legs to push them towards your chest. He slides deeper inside you, pressing against a part of you that has your mind emptying. 

“No one gets to see you like I do, right?” You can hear how wolfish his smile is as he bears his weight against you, his form tangible and mostly human once more. Alucard’s breath fans across your lips and his nose brushes your cheek as he grinds into you. He’s proud of himself, panting like a mutt above you.

Pressed up tight like this, your eyes roll every time his pelvic bone rubs against your clit. 

“Right?” He coos your name and you nod profusely, only able to drool and cry. 

“Iloveyou.” It bubbles out of your lips. You felt like your heart was climbing up out of your throat, tears tracking down your cheeks. 

Alucard goes rigid above you, hissing a curse under his breath before leaning down to kiss you hard. 

You can barely keep up but he doesn’t seem to mind, holding your face with tender, trembling hands. You can hear his breath shudder with emotion, hips flush against you as he finishes then and there inside of you with a quivering moan. 

“I love you,” he says between messy kisses. Alucard’s voice is thick in his throat and you feel something drip onto your cheeks. 

It’s warm, sliding down to the corner of your mouth where you wick it away with your tongue. Copper tangs your tastebuds and you blink your eyes open. 

Even in the dark, you can tell he’s crying. Salty tears weren’t something Alucard possessed, but bloody crimson ones. He presses his blood-slicked cheek to yours, shivering above you, holding you tight.

You can’t help but join him, leaning into him, burying your fingers in his hair as you let your heart bleed. 

When your blissful sniffles subside, the both of you settle in each other's arms. You’re sure you’re a mess, smeared in blood, tears, and the product of both yours and Alucard’s orgasms. 

He looks at you like you’re the most beautiful thing, despite all that. Alucard kisses both your eyelids, admiring you in the pale shaft of moonlight that appears only now that he lets it. 

You admire him too; sleepy eyes blinking open only to trail a finger along his chin. The movement is slow, muscles heavy with exhaustion. “I didn’t know you could do all that,” you hum, dragging the pad of your thumb across his soft lips.

They curve into a smile, parting so that you can run your finger over his sharp teeth. Alucard’s tongue lifts to greet you, sliding against the digit until you pull it away to wipe it on the tip of his nose. 

He laughs lowly—more of a hum—and caresses your cheek. “I can do many things. Surely, that’s not surprising.”

You smile and shake your head, leaning in to fit your head beneath his chin. “It’s not,” you hum. “But it doesn’t make it any less impressive.”

There, you fall asleep and there Alucard gathers you close to himself, humming a low and unfamiliar tune.

Next

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

In a previous post, I mentioned that the book Dracula is not a work of fiction in the Hellsing universe. This has some rather interesting and utterly horrifying implications mostly having to do with Alucard and how he spent five hundred years of his life, as well as questions about what the fuck happened to everything.

First off, the more obvious stuff such as Alucard canonically having eaten babies and threw a goddamn woman to literal wolves while his poor fucking solicitor watches on. To be fair, I don't think Dracula meant for Jonathan to see that but my point still stands, Alucard mentally tortured his solicitor for a few months, and also nearly got him eaten by his roommates who were possibly more than that. I am not entirely sure what the dynamics of the brides and Dracula is aside from dialouge suggesting that they're not on terribly good terms.

That or the brides were being bratty. Most likely bratty. They seemed happy enough to be fed a toddler though.

Onto potentially less disturbing aspects of Alucard's character, he would be very much into reading. Potentially to the point that I imagine that Integra has most definitely found him reading the most strangest of things such as the labels on a can of soup.

If we talk about the whole Demeter ship thing, this is also something found in the Dracula fandom, but it is still highly amusing to think Alucard had started off with transforming into a wolf when he first set foot in England, only to be quickly faced with the fact that everyone just saw him as some scraggly mutt that needed to be protected in classic yorkshire fashion due to wolves being very extinct. Must have been a bit ego damaging when he figured that out after potentially running away from dog catchers.

I imagine he just took on the form of Baskerville out of sheer spite at that point.

I do deeply question what the fuck happened to Alucard's assets upon his death. Perhaps it was the wealth that he had accrued over his lifetime that was used to start the Hellsing Organization and said wealth is still used in some capacity to fund it.

[faithintheunknownsblog]

Hİ HELLO

OMG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH

[could-they-be-a-pro-wrestler]

HIGHLIGHTS FROM THIS EPISODE OF MONDAY NIGHT FRESH

SANJI TRIES TO DEFEND NAMI’S HONOR

Previously, Seras Victoria (Hellsing) became the new ABW Women’s World Champion after defeating the previous champion, Nami (One Piece). Seras immediately took charge in her reign as champion, starting by redesigning the belt to more of her liking.

(Imagine: the title belt now has silver, red, and black as the primary colors, reflecting Hellsing)

One person who didn’t take too kindly to Seras’ reign was Vinsmoke Sanji (One Piece). Sanji says that Nami was just having a bad day and that Seras couldn’t beat her if she was at her best. Seras laughs this off, saying that she beat Nami fair and square and that Sanji is just whipped.

Before the banter can go any further, they were interrupted by Alucard (Hellsing). Alucard, who didn’t like how Sanji was talking to Seras, challenges him to a match. Sanji immediately accepted.