#hellsingfang

[nightslain]

"Sometimes I look upon your partner and see myself. A life I never had a chance to live and lament. Lament that such choices were taken from me with no one to pursue me to turn from a path of ruin. Now, I cannot even find rest and respite as I am cursed to haunt the earth forever, unending. Why? Why did this life and unlife betray me? Why does time never heal my pain?"

@hellsingfang || real man pain hours be like

                “…I know. Your tragedies are not entirely unlike one another’s–grief is what has spoiled you both in this life, one way or another. And I mourn that life for you has been so pitilessly cruel.” As Leon mourns almost helplessly for anyone that assumes the image of a friend; the irony of finding some sympathy for the plight of things once sworn to an ugly death does not quite strike him as being all that funny, tonight. His eyes are calm, but quietly sad, downcast to a ringed finger on his left hand as a look of apology seems to overcome the Belmont’s young, kind face. “But it is not for me to answer why you have suffered. Why you suffer yet. Or why your life remained empty of things that could have driven you to the peace you so crave.” As much as he wishes he could make sense of it all, fathom that grief into more recognisable patterns. Make it somehow understandable. That he can’t leaves him feeling momentary breathless with the futility of it all. Forces a sigh from his chest when his sorry gaze lifts itself back to the companion stood across the way. He means to smile. Means to sound hopeful. At the very least, his gentle voice brims with sincerity.

                 “I have always lived my life wanting to believe in better things existing for me besides my suffering, a trial though it was to remember it when I was in the worst pains of my life.” Though how far away those pains have slowly become, in recent times. If only the same could be said for all of them. Leon rises to that thought, stretching the ache of sleep from every limb as he strides from his seat and crosses the tentative distance between them. “You still have all the time there is to find a better future for yourself in this vast and senseless world of ours. Let that begin to be your hope sooner than it is your curse, as it was for me when I was first brought back from the dead.”

               His gait falters. A moment’s pause in wherever his wandering is meant to take him to offer the gesture of a single hand coming to rest on the other’s shoulder, “And know that I am your friend. I will always be your friend. And yours will no longer be such a lonely life, even if that is all the pain I am able to heal.”

[nclifeking-blog]

“ i seriously want you to throw something right at my face ” sock it to him, give urself ur best shot bRO

buzzfeed unsolved

     So it has come to this ─ facing his very own image. In the most literal way. Not the matchup he’d expect or think of, but it could prove an efficient mean of killing boredom.

‶ If you would be well served, serve yourself. ʺ

Ask and ye shall receive. A 13mm round aimed straight for the face, that is.

[executare]

“ they are more useful in death ” // two op war mongering vampires walk into a bar...

don’t starve || @hellsingfang

               “You truly think as much, do you?” Lazy amusement quirks the Lord’s thin brow–a look that could be curious if it weren’t for the depth of knowing always shining out of those bottomless, wine-like eyes. There is only certainty to Ayin’s indulgent expression, a polished smile and song-like words to match; silvery, light, and eerily blithe for the matter at hand as he leans his dak crown upon one curled hand. His lashes flutter. A laugh joins his lilting cadence. “Death is all the value there is to certain vermin scurrying the streets. But mere killing by itself–while fitting well enough for things no better than scum underfoot…” A pause. For theatrics more than for purpose. He keeps his companion waiting for mere seconds longer (why not make the occasion last long enough to savour even in its quietest moments?) His gaze is sharp, cruel, and suddenly hungry.

               “It bores me, merely to kill. It bores me, merely to watch the life and colour from their crude and foolish and ugly designs. Pleasure though it is to return them to the filth from whence they came.” A sigh bleeds, no more than a breath between the lull of his words as his emptier hand dances its fingers at the stem of his wine glass. “It would suprise me to hear that you find no craving inside yourself for more. What feeling is there to be had in a kill but what we have felt time and time again? Little. I’d wager you’d agree there is so very little to be found, any longer.”

                The cruelty of his smile worsens more by the minute. The wine glass tentatively entertained by his wandering fingertips is taken languidly into grasp, swayed to watch the moonlight filter through before he ventures so much as a sip of good red. The words he speaks are more delicious to him than wine, either way–but they make the drink all the sweeter for their company as they purr into the dark. “But what is dead is only more of what’s mine to command. A single drop of me sees that the dead will march their rotting flesh to my every whim. And it is more joyous to me to parade the empty, putrid flesh of a friend before the stupidity of their masses. More joyous than killing itself. They will know no better dread of me being here than they do when the dead that I have bent and mangled walks among them. Speaks. Warns. They will not know when I will come for the rest of their sad little lives. Only that I shall. And only that they shall meet endings no less ugly than the messenger I sent to them.“

[mawsitsit]

“It is not our abilities that show what we truly are. It is our choices.” for walter

"Is easy for someone who avoided dead and gain all the powers to crush enemies with one finger, to say that" 

The youthful butler sighed as he continues cleaning the books of the Hellsing Library.

Arthur seemed busy with all his "night ladies" and sent him to the higher floor od the mansion where he couldn't heart him have fun with the woman.

Walter was puzzled, curious to ask about why he made that choice, was he afraid of dead? Did he have to achieve something? Maybe he regretted his choice now? Who knows. Too many questions, but his stubbornness didn't allow asking.

" Oi, Are you not afraid to walk into the battlefield and be killed, or you have  don't give a fuck anymore?"

[madisonxrussell]

♡ just an awkward hug the kind that makes even onlookers cringe

@hellsingfang

“You’re not getting my blood through awkward bribery, sorry.” 

[madisonxrussell]

hellsingfang replied to your post: Dracula: Did I offend your sensibilities? Do I...

Madison: Dracula Alucard: who is this idk him. I only know Alucard and that’s me

Madison: IT’S JUST YOUR NAME BACKWARDS, IT WAS EVEN IN CASTLEVANIA! GODDAMMIT. 

[madisonxrussell]

i don’t think you have a choice, kiddo.

@hellsingfang

“I always have a choice, and right now, I’m choosing to walk away from the remains of these...’ghouls’ and go back to base. I have enough craziness in my life to deal with, and I don’t need to add vampires and their rotting corpse buddies to the list.” 

In the past year alone, she had dealt with numerous giant Titans and aliens. The weirdness threshold reached its limit way, way long ago, and only Madison’s willpower kept her going at this rate. 

[madisonxrussell]

hellsingfang replied to your post: Madison: Look, I’m just anxious because I thought...

Hi welcome to life with Alucard. You get trolled with no refunds

[ she’s going to end up beheading him at least once, it’s a habit with immortal beings that annoy her ]

[nightslain]

hellsingfang replied to your post: vampire leon but it's angstier (aka someone other...

👀👀👀👀👀

YALL HEAR SOMETHING? Sounds like Leon sweating nervously

[nightslain]

"How would you like to slay a real vampire? Come, and allow me to feel alive once more with the thrill of battle. You are a man and only a man can slay a monster like myself."

@hellsingfang || f is for friends who throw fists together

                “…A monster you may indeed be. But this duty you have resigned yourself to is not so unlike my own. Is that not true?” Spilling wicked blood in the dead of night; thankless work, but thanks is the motivation of neither soul. Their duty the same, their influence almost certainly different–Leon is not quick to think this creature a spirit of any kind of altruism. No, a monster can only have so much good in their heart, he is sure. But eyeing the vampire as they tower in the moonlight, Leon is not convinced even so that he is stood before an enemy. “You are not loyal to your kind and their cruelties–no, you have chosen in your time to destroy them instead. Perhaps it is not for me to know or understand why. But what is mine to understand is that we both prey upon the Night–we both cull the plague it has spread upon the earth.”

                 The Belmont shifts, booted stride slinking forward as a hand lowers thoughtfully to the weapon hung at one hip (howling, he hears her, enough to make him feel as though his skull might split with the force of her screeching hate.) “I do not kill for pride, or for spite, or even joy. I kill for the good of my people. And it is not my wish to do battle with one that fights the same for a goal to rid this world of its filth.”

                The whip is drawn. The chord burns hot under Leon’s hand as he snaps it taught between both hands. Resolve reaches his eyes, though there is something solemn to the set of his face besides. “But if life has grown so dull to you with as much of it as you have lived–if it has lost true meaning, become void of this feeling that you crave–” his words are sundered by the rage of the whip come raining down, all fire and thunder and lightning-sharp pain soon to be felt, “then from one hunter to another, I will grant you that wish to feel again.”