#like its okay alucard

[hellsing-shitposts-r-us]

Making notes for if I decide to write fanfic and I thought I would share

[vindicta-reliquiae]

-

[ahuwhenua]

castlevania nocturne..

[embalmus]

time to go get my butt stabbed (t shot)

[vermont-writes-fanfic]

Hi I was wondering if you’d be okay with writing yandere Alucard (hellsing) with a human s/o. Maybe they try to escape?

You are mine~

Request: Yes

Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, blood, vampirism, typical hellsing stuff, unwilling relationship, yandere

Characters: Alucard

Franchise: Hellsing

A/N: Woo, sorry that took so incredibly long, hope this is a long the lines of what you were hoping for! Let me know if you would like a continuation or perhaps a mini series.

A dull thud beats in your head as your consciousness swims through your foggy mind, what had happened? The last thing you can remember is walking home from the store and hearing someone behind you…oh god. As you attempt to sit up you feel like you’re swimming through a thick pudding, every move makes that throbbing pain in your head a little sharper. Where are you? Heavy with a drug induced fatigue, your eye lids lazily open and close a few times as you fight to see where you are, whatever you had been dosed with it certainly worked as intended. After a few minutes, you manage to open your eyes and propr yourself up against some pillows behind you so you can look around. Deep red is the first thing you register, the silken texture had made the fight to sit up that much harder for you, and now that you can see what it is apart of clearly the panic worms its way in. A small voice in the back of your muddled mind that something isn’t quite right. A thick duvet had been over you before you moved and now it rests heavy on your lower half. Underneath you, dark red silken sheets cradle you in a luxurious hold that threatens to lull you back to sleep, but you can’t go to sleep again, you need to figure out where you are. Slowly, you move your legs, sliding them across the sheets towards the floor. The moment your feet hit the cold stone floor you recoil and hiss, the coolness waking you up a bit further. Now the room seems less bleary and you can see the grey stone walls stacked up like the bricks of a house, and the equally stone floor that is cold to the touch. As your eyes adjust to the dim candle light, you spot a staircase leading up, up, up, into the darkness where you can just barely hear faint sounds echoing down. Fueld by the need to escape, to get away from this dark place, you steel yourself and step back down onto the floor beneath you. Fighting through the shivers that wrack your body as the chill touches your bones. After somewhat getting used to the chill in the air all down in this, what you assume to be, cellar, you walk towards the steps and one by one climb up the staircase only to find a locked heavy oak door.

You don’t give up, heading back down the stairs to look from some other way out. A lone window above the bed of your new eclosure catched your desperate eye and you quickly move over to it climbing on the bed. Your hands press against the window and it just barely has any give except for in one corner where the pane of glass seems to be looser. Looking out of it it seems to ground level if a little above it and you would be able to get out of it. You push, all of your weight leing on that one slightly less stable corner until the glass budges and a small piece of stone falls from under it. You quickly pick up this new tool and make use of it hitting the glass until that corner breaks apart from it. You curl your fingers around the open piece and take a deep inhale as you breathe in the crisp night air. It burns a little, the coolness of it, but you couldn’t be more grateful for such a feeling. pUshing and pulling against the window you finally make the glass come out in a few pieces. The rock serves as a tool for removing the sharper edges that were too stubborn to move by your hands alone, and finally you begin to shimmy through the window and onto the dew covered grass outside.

When you stand, you stretch and sigh, the feeling of the grass between your toes and up your ankles tickling your bare skin. The gentle midsummer night breeze that catches you and ruffles your hair, you hm’t even been in their for very long but this feeling felt as if you’d never felt it before. You don’t linger on this though, as the anxiety sets in and you pick a direction to start running in. North, this is the way your feet choose to take you as you run from what you ca now see to be a manor or estate of some kind. Dwelling on it isn’t within your line of thought as you run into some wood, the full moon shining bright over head. Branches and thorny vines catch at your clothes and skin, they create tears and light scratches on your clothes and skin and you close your eyes willing yourself to go faster and faster until the feeling beneath your feet changes to a hard unpleasant feeling. A light on the black of the road beneath you makes you snap your head to the left where two large headlights comes zooming at you., just as you are about to feel the harsh cold of metal and death a different kind of chill picks you up, and the feeling of gravity no longer weighs you down. You can hear the car swear nd crash and you an feel the breeze brush past your legs as the ground stays ever stationary below you. Much farther below you…you look up to see blood red eyes and a large grin staring at you their black ahired owner letting out a loud laugh,

“Where do you think you are going. Hm? You belong to me, little one, you are not going anywhere.” He says, his voice a deep velevty smooth as he speaks. It almost has you, until the sounds of panicked drivers bring you back. You kick and squirm only to grasp on to the stranger again when you nearly fall.

“Put me down!” You shout, trying to move barley doing so against his strong hold.. For a moment he does nothing but watch you squirm, predatorial eyes hidden behind his orange glasses before a wolfish grin spread across his face.

“Let you down? As you wish, little human,” 

You feel the wind rush past your ears as your heart plummets to the round much like yourself and as you close your eyes to wait for impact, it never comes. You are in the arms of your kidnapper once again. The feeling of your body shaking against his, the scent of your fear and the blood in your veins rushing everywhere as fast as it can is enough to make him chuckle as he looks down at your quivering form.. Despite the initial fear of being dropped from so high in the air, you manage to glare at him and through chattering teeth mutter.

“Asshole…”

His smirk level leaves his face and a feeling of nausea washes over your mind , feeling your stomach turn you close your eyes and try to will it away only to open your eyes to the same room you had woke up in. The window seems to be fixed and you doubt that you’ll be able to break it again, whatever he is, you bet he has some sort of magic that would prevent you from doing what you did the first time a second. As you look around you find that the sheets are perfectly tucked in around you again. In the corner of the room, sitting in an ornate chair like a king on his throne your capture sits watching you’re every move.

“Thinking about escaping again, little bride?”

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Can we please get a yandere alucard part 4 🥹🥹 Prettyyy Pleassee 🥹🥹🙏🙏

& Anonymous D asked: Is there a chance you will continue the yandere Alucard x reader storyline part 4? I’m sorry. I’m just so invested in the story. Your writing is good. - D

A/N: It’s been a while so I had to go back and reread/refresh myself. Here they are Part One, Part Two, and Part Three for you to read if you also need to catch up. Or you can use the tag: ‘yandere alucard’ on my blog to see all of the Yandere! Alucard-themed writings I’ve done. 

And a HUGE THANK YOU to @allthegoodbobdylanlyricsaretaken, my lovely beta-reader for this installment. Not only were they kind enough to offer to read this over for any grammar/writing mistakes, but they were so patient with me! I had writer's block pretty bad in the middle of this, and they were sweet enough to give me encouraging reminders. To them- I am so incredibly grateful! Normally, I finish something and just throw it up, so I want you all to know they are why this piece comes off as much more polished. 

I also wanted to thank @rl800 for commenting on Part 3, about how they hope Y/N’s father eventually gives Alucard some sort of blessing for a relationship with his daughter. I was initially planning on killing him off early, but because I like rl800’s suggestion better, I’ve changed my idea for this part to include Y/N’s father as a contributing character. Oh, and as always...

TW!: This is a fictional work about a fictional character. Manipulation and abuse in real relationships are never okay, and it’s never your fault. If you need help, please click on any of these: [x] [x].

Word Count: 3.2k 

If you’d like ambiance for this part, check out this link: [x]. 

*    *    *    *    *    * 

You were rather disheartened to learn that what your Father had was phthisis. 

The white plague. 

Of course, in the back of your mind, you supposed you had considered such reality a possibility, but you could not bring yourself to admit as much. You suppressed those sobering thoughts with various dissensions. 

If it was the plague, how come it wasn’t sweeping through the entire town? Why hadn’t you yet fallen ill? If it were truly a plague, then perhaps it was a milder strain?  

You had warded off accepting the unspeakable for so long that, even now that it was true, a good degree of your mind still refused to believe it. Surely, Alucard was mistaken in some way, despite his seemingly infinite wisdom. It simply could not be true. Then again, your heartache alone could not change the circumstances. 

You were grateful to be shown to your room quite soon after learning the true nature of your Father’s condition. The devastating revelation was the straw that broke the camel’s back— its brutality kicked you in the teeth— unveiling the weeks of fatigue that had been slowly gnawing at your battered bones. Besides the reprieve for yourself, you were extremely thankful to now have aid in caring for your Father, your cordial hosts’ compassion for your father’s condition released the short leash you had once ensnared yourself with, the one keeping you tethered to his bedside. Now you were free to sleep in your private bedroom, hell, on your private floor.

Seated on silky luxurious sheets, feeling the soft night shift’s fabric against your skin, you were forced to reconcile with the present reality: you were only a guest in this opulent room because your Father was ill, and at this point, there was nothing left you could do for him. In all honesty, it sounded as if there was little Alucard could do either. So much of the situation felt hopeless, despite your newfound companion’s assurances to the contrary. 

Alucard announced, quite casually, that should you need anything else, or if he could be of any more assistance to you, his bed chambers were just a few paces down the hall from your own. 

This sense of freedom was foreign to you, and it felt rather suffocating to be seated upon such a luxurious throw, all by your lonesome. Yes, you knew your Father was sick, and quite possibly contagious, but you had yet to catch anything at this point. What would be the harm if you spend an hour or two with him? For all you knew, you could have become immune to this illness. 

Earlier in the evening, you had asked Alucard if he truly expected you not to visit your Father. He firmly, but sympathetically shot the question down. 

‘It is still too great a risk to take,’ he had told you. ‘Your body needs time to be free from stress if you are to hopefully remain without illness yourself.’ 

The frailty of your muscles and the bags under your eyes made it obvious to you and Alucard that you were teetering on the edge of complete burnout. Should you continue to push through at the rate you were going, you’d no doubt join the ranks of your late family members. 

Nevertheless, the silken sheets and large feather-stuffed mattress atop a tester canopied bed did not stop the faint chill of loneliness from ghosting across your skin. You wondered briefly if your Father’s room looked like yours. Or perhaps, it was designed to be more medicinal than comfortable. Was he up thinking of you, just as you were thinking of him? 

It was late by the time your mind had ceased its seemingly endless racing, well into the early hours of the morning. Laid out flat on the bed, robed in a plain night shift with your hair uncovered, you felt an odd equilibrium of settled and aroused. 

You felt small in the extensive room. For example, there was a tiled area intended for bathing off the left of where you lay, separated from the wooden floor by an exquisitely hand-crafted partition. It was stocked with fresh towels, a matching wash-stand set, and pitchers of clean, warned water. Next to the washstand’s porcelain basin was a variety of bar soaps, each one a more exciting shade and scent than the next, and on the lower shelf was a series of glass bottles— shampoos, cleansing oils, and perfumes. Everything was in perfect order, arranged in such an inviting manner. 

The thought that Alucard took the effort to prepare such a collection just for you was almost disquieting. You had hoped he hadn’t gone to too much trouble securing such lovely items before your arrival, especially since it was rather short notice. Then again, perhaps these were just some things he happened to already own within the castle. The place was huge, after all. 

Honestly, you didn't know what would be more daunting, the thought of Alucard giving up his items for your sake, or the idea that Aluard hurriedly procured these new items with your freshly negotiated stay in mind. Both options felt significantly intimate; either act felt like a kindness you were unworthy of. 

As you formed a loose plan to kindly reject Alucard's lavish gifts and attentions, the man of the hour himself came to knock upon your door. 

*    *    *    *    *    * 

Alucard was beaming. No, he was more than beaming, he was practically flying. Well, not literally. Although, that would be no extraordinary feat for The Alucard, son of Dracula and Lisa Tepes. In his years as sole inhibitor and keeper of both Castlevania and the Belmont Hold, his wisdom and abilities flourished greatly, free from the looming threat of time that burdened the rest of humanity. His prowess had come to be unmatched, his dual heritage leaving little he could not accomplish. Alucard possessed the ability to conquer all things if he so wished; all things, except for one.

At the time this bold young woman had trespassed his home, it had been nearly a hundred or so years since the deaths of his last human companions. And while Alucard was not predisposed to loneliness, he was prone to fits of melancholy. 

Even though the castle was alive, it was quiet. It did not provide comfort or companionship the way a human would. Hell— at times Alucard found himself imagining what a close allyship with another vampire would look like among these vast hallowed halls. He certainly had no shortage of vampires and other supernaturally inclined beings desperately vying for the Great Lord Alucard’s attention. 

It was always futile, Alucard had come to learn. Vampires were paranoid and power-hungry by nature and rarely lived long enough to outgrow their newfound bloodlust. Young, power-hungry vampires who sought to usurp Alucard always came to meet the same swift, almost boringly inevitable demise. They did not present any real challenge to him, not anymore. 

It did pain a part of him. His human side, he supposed. Perhaps, it was the influence of his Mother’s memory, the way a sudden ache for companionship— a friend, a lover, an acquaintance, anything— would seize his heart at times. Mother wouldn’t have wanted him to be alone. She wished for him to be kind to humans, even if they could never understand him. She had always emphasized kindness when encouraging Alucard’s journey of self-discovery. Lisa Tepes knew her son would never become the kind of man her husband was, but she wanted Alucard to understand that it was okay. She did not wish for him to be defined by his relation to Dracula but by his relationship with humanity. 

It wasn’t that Alucard hadn’t tried— he had. For years, he had kept himself surrounded by humans, even after Trevor and Sypha, Greta, and the original descendants of Danesti had passed. But as humanity grew more evolved, and began to long for traditions and independence beyond all that his gothic castle could offer, he found himself alone for years in which there was little else to do other than take to his underground coffin and sleep to pass the time. 

His solitude had been weighing on him especially hard for the past several decades or so. But with his isolated routine so ingrained, Alucard could not see a viable way to invite a human into his life. He was aware that out there, perhaps even beyond what was once known as the independent region of Wallachia, several branches of the Belmont line continued to thrive. Of course, Alucard was certain he would be all but a myth to them at this point, something one of their descendants would speak of as they shared ancient stories around the campfire. 

In truth, he did not wish to seek them out. He did not wish to have to seek anyone out. 

Alucard wished that someone— someone worthy— would come to him. He had only found himself desiring such a circumstance for a little under a month when this strange woman, this (Y/N) made her way past his front door. 

‘Perhaps,’ Alucard mused, as he strode down the hallway between his and (Y/N)'s room, ‘There is a God after all.’ 

Balancing the tea tray in one hand, Alucard lifted his other to knock softly upon (Y/N)’s door. If she was already sleeping, he did not wish to wake her. 

Alucard felt a wave of relief wash over him as her melodious voice answered from the other side of the door. 

“Alucard? Is that you?” 

Amused with her question, Alucard opened the door with a carefree smile. “Yes. I’ve brought you some herbal tea. I assumed you would have difficulty adjusting to sleep in such a new environment.” 

His words were perfect: just the right mix of compassion and concern, yet not overbearing or anxious. If he just kept this up, if she could just see how well her life could be here, with him, how simple things would be, everything would work out beautifully. And speaking of beautiful…

Dressed in a simple white night shift, Alucard was taken aback at how elegant and feminine (Y/N) looked while robed in such a plain garment. Her hair, finally uncovered before him, had been unbraided, and let down to naturally frame her face. Her locks were full and lush, no doubt a sign of good fertility in addition to her overall health. This indication of her reproductive health ignited visions in the back of Alucard’s mind of all the different children they would have running around the castle halls. 

Swallowing down the fantasy for now, Alucard retained his external composure. ‘Remember,’ he chided himself, ‘For humans, it must be their idea for it to work.’ 

(Y/N) took the tray from his hands and set it down on the small table, opposite the washing room. It was centered between two wooden chairs, made to accommodate intimate meals between two people. 

“You needn’t do so much for me, you know? You’ve done plenty already.” 

“It is no trouble. I’ve found myself enjoying having someone more than just myself to feed.” Before his bravado could falter, Alucard took a seat at the table, gesturing for (Y/N) to join him. 

“Is it lonely?” (Y/N) asked. The sincere curiosity in her tone caught Alucard off-guard. “I’ve never lived anywhere on my own. I can’t begin to imagine being all by myself, especially in a place of this size.” 

Aiming to keep the conversation light, Alucard opted for a more humorous response. 

“Nonsense. The ghosts and ghouls in the dungeons keep me plenty occupied.” 

“In that case,” (Y/N) smiled, eagerly reciprocating Alucard’s playful parley. “Remind me to stay far away from the dungeon.” 

“Certainly,” Alucard answered, retrieving a cup of steaming tea. “I would hate for you to become the latest poltergeist haunting these grounds. Just imagine what your Father would say.” 

At the mention of her Father, (Y/N)’s smile faltered. Silently, she seated herself before picking up her cup. Taking a tentative sip, her brow furrowed at the odd taste. 

“It’s mandrake tea,” Alucard explained, continuing to swallow his down nonchalantly. 

“And do you normally drink, uh mandrake tea?” (Y/N) asked, politely feigning another sip. 

“It will keep you healthy. Ward off any infection or cold,” Alucard misled. 

Misled, not lied— mandrake root did have healing properties. Truthfully speaking, its main uses were as an anesthetic and a fertility aid. But until (Y/N) was as committed as he to their collective future, it was best she did not know such things. 

“Oh,” (Y/N) blinked in surprise. “I thought it was just used in witchcraft. And that it was dangerous to harvest.” 

Alucard chuckled, shaking his head. “The myth of the mandrake screaming is nothing more than an old wives’ tale, which the Church has exploited in their favor. They claimed Joan of Arc was carrying a mandrake root when she was seized by the Burgundians in the city of Compiègne.” 

(Y/N) shook her head, not quite understanding. “I’ll admit, I’ve never heard of this ‘Joan of Arc’. Nor the city of Compiegne, it must be quite far from here.” 

Alucard smiled, knowingly. “Very far, yes.” 

“Oh.” (Y/N) nodded, this conversation clearly out of her depth. “Well, those people, ah the Church,” (Y/N) corrected herself, “Why would they say that? What did they have to gain?” 

“They sought to cast a shadow over her reputation, and to besmirch any scholars proclaiming the mandrake’s healing properties.” 

“How—” (Y/N) started, “How do you know all this?” 

Alucard shrugged. “The original keeper of this castle collected centuries of suppositories of knowledge, many of which contained science previously vilified by the church. I’ve been fortunate enough to read nearly all which is stored here.” 

(Y/N) forced herself to swallow down another mouthful. “‘Original keeper’?’” she repeated. “I thought that was you.” 

“No,” Alucard said, somewhat decisively. His sharp tone indicated the matter was not up for discussion. “I was not the one who brought this castle into existence. I merely inherited it.” 

(Y/N) nodded again, her posture more notably hunched than before. She forced herself to take a good long sip before swallowing harshly. 

Thrown by all this newly shared information, (Y/N) licked her lips before pressing them together in a tight line. “I know earlier you said that it would be unwise for me to go see him, in the event I’d catch something…” 

“Yes.” 

“And while I certainly don’t like this being this situation, you are the expert here, as well as our host so I’ll respect it…” 

“But?” 

“I need you to promise me one thing. Just one thing, and I swear I will stop pestering you about visiting him.” 

Alucard nodded, encouragingly. 

“You will tell me when he’s dying.” 

Alucard felt the air in the room grow cold. 

(Y/N) said ‘when’ he was dying, as if she had come to that hopeless conclusion already. Did she truly have so little faith in him, that she couldn’t envision her Father recovering? Had he not been firm enough in assuring her of his medical knowledge? Was he doing too little to comfort her? Too little to distract her? Or… perhaps too much? 

Had Alucard’s honeyed words and kind intentions accomplished the opposite of what he intended? Had his constant reassurance acted as a warning for grief that had yet to come? 

This was not good— not good at all. 

Internally, Alucard’s mind was racing through potential future scenarios. 

If her Father died now, she’d have no reason to stay. She’d pack up and leave, and forevermore associate his name, his memory, Alucard’s very existence with heartache. No. 

No, she had to stay! Which meant her Father had to live! But, how?

Alucard was powerful; still, he had no dominion over Death. 

In every outcome, (Y/N)’s Father remained a crucial aspect of his plan. She revered him, she loved him— and most importantly—  she trusted him explicitly. 

‘Perhaps,’ Alucard’s mind supplied, ‘Therein lies the answer to our question. Instead of working so hard to gain (Y/N)’s approval, I could gain a blessing from her Father. If he were to see us as someone worthy of his daughter’s hand, he would no doubt share that final sentiment with her, before his passing.’ 

It was genius, foolproof really. 

If it was made clear to (Y/N)’s Father, that Alucard was the best option for her, and the one most capable of ensuring her safety and happiness… 

If the last thing her Father ever did was command them to be together, no daughter, especially not one as respectful and obedient as (Y/N) could refuse. 

Alucard needn't be so alarmed after all. 

Nodding solemnly, Alucard’s golden eyes bore unflinchingly into hers. 

“I promise.” 

Once the tea had been finished, Alucard bid (Y/N) goodnight, encouraging her to at least try and get a few hours of sleep before the coming sunrise. 

Quietly, he gathered all the teacups back onto the serving tray and exited the room, softly shutting the door behind him. 

For a moment, Alucard stood still. He waited until he heard the unmistakable ruffle of sheets, and the slowed heartbeat of a human finally at rest. 

Shortly after (Y/N) had agreed to bring her Father here, Alucard considered placing a sponge soaked in somnifera under her pillow. Now, Alucard was glad to have decided against it. Her body was beyond tired enough to fall asleep on its own, and it wouldn’t do him any good to set off any suspicions with unusual scents in the room. 

Besides, his plan had a new direction now— a superior direction. She was not the one he needed to charm, oh no. From where he stood, Alucard could also hear the person he needed to charm, coughing fitfully upstairs. 

And it was time, Alucard decided, to pay him an honest visit. 

*    *    *    *    *    * 

Notes: 

Mandrake, which gave Rachel children in the bible- used to be believed to treat infertility, but also loads of other stuff, but the fertile thing is what Alucard is utilizing it for here. It was also possibly in the wine given to Jesus on the cross. It had a strong sedative effect. The myth that could not harvest the roots without being killed up until 1597 (so this would be news prob to the reader, old news to Alu) It was also thought to be a love charm- medieval church cast it out as a demonic talisman, punished Joan of arc for ‘carrying’ one.

The mix called The Spongia Somnifera is From Arabian scientist Ibn Sina (c. 980 to 1037 CE), or Avicenna. In his authoritative Canon of Medicine, he identified certain plants with pharmacological action, such as mandrake, opium, and henbane. He described the Spongia Somnifera: “Opium, juice of hyoscyamine, unripened berry of the blackberry, hog beans, lettuce seed, juice of hemlock, poppy, mandragora. Put these all together in a vessel and plunge therein a new sea sponge, and put that in the sun during the dog days until all the liquid is consumed. And when there is need, dip it a little in water and apply it to the nostrils of the patient, and he will quickly go to sleep.”

TB was also called phthisis, or “wasting,” by Hippocrates. 

Some other interesting sources: Old-Timey Medicine; TB Throughout History; Mandragora: Anesthesia of the Ancients; Mandrake: The Scream of Death; and Gerad’s Herbal Chapter 65: Mandrake

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A/N 2.0: AGAIN PLEASE GIVE A HUGE SHOUT-OUT TO MY WONDERFUL BETA @allthegoodbobdylanlyricsaretaken , WHO VOLUNTEERED TO HELP ME WITH THIS INSTALLMENT. 

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Tag List: @peterpankat ;

Let me know, if you’d like to be added to the tag list by either commenting on this post, mentioning so in a reblog, or sending me an ask requesting to be added. 

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And as always… Please Like and REBLOG! 

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[pininghermit]

A Tale of Caution

Request: @queenondeezmatatas OOH I MISS ALU SO MYCH AS WELL💓I did the the wheel and got Power Play 👀A fem!reader and subby alu please? Hihihihihi

AN: I missed writing Alucard soo much!! It feels awesome to see you in my inbox. Okay so this turned out to be more of a hurt/comfort sub/dom thingy. But it's so sweet. I hope you like it 🥰because I had a lot fun and feels writing this.

Tropesvania Event- feel free to request

Genre: hurt/comfort

Pairing(s): Adrian Tepes x fem Reader

Summary: Power-play- fem reader

“He will not.” You cross your arms, huffing at the Belmont. “Adrian will not go anywhere.” Holding his hand tightly in yours, you look into his eyes, only for Alucard to avoid your gaze.

To be honest, you had never liked the Belmont couple. They were no better than the bastards who had done this to Alucard.

What kind of friends left a grieving soul to rot in the grave of his wretched past? What kind of friends ignored the trembling in his hands, the shadows in his golden eyes, and the cracks in his composure?

They had all failed him. Left him to fend for himself. Let the savior of their world crumble like the castle he wandered.

You despised them all. But mostly, you despised yourself for not finding him sooner.

For all the nights he begged for pain, sobbed for penance, for what he believed he had made you into.

To Adrian, you were his penance. A shadow of the demons of his past. That was what he needed. A force he could fight, a torment he could endure.

This cursed world was why the dhampir you loved more than anything would never be able to love you the same way. To him, you were his nightmare, his doom, a trial sent to test his strength.

But you had passed the point of return long ago. Love was a crippling addiction, and you were nothing if not an absolute slave to its whims.

So, you became exactly what Adrian desired. Combining all the rotten parts of yourself, you gave him what he needed. Acts his former lovers had made him endure, this time, with the control resting firmly in his hands.

Brittle ropes, gentle knots, whispered reassurances, kisses, and tender caresses. You refused to let his pain exist unaccompanied by pleasure.

And somehow, after weeks of tearful protests and self-loathing, Adrian began to accept it. His body learned, his senses yielded, his spirit softened under your whispered praise.

You were damn proud of that.

Until he came. The Belmont.

He barged in, shattering one of your stolen moments in the west wing of the castle. Right as Adrian had allowed himself to surrender, to relax in your arms for a fleeting moment of pleasure.

Perched on top of him, locked in a searing kiss, the slamming of the door was like a clap of thunder.

Adrian leapt up instinctively, his panicked stance shielding you. His sword appeared in his trembling hand, ready to strike the intruder.

It was Belmont.

He came for a simple reason—a quest, a call from some obscure, faraway town burning under the chaos of the Fae. A plea for Adrian, the savior, the hero.

Absolutely not.

Adrian would not go. If the world burned, so be it. It was no concern of yours or his.

He had given enough. Lost enough. There was no part of him left to sacrifice for others. Adrian wasn’t their savior anymore. He was barely holding himself together.

Gripping his hand in yours, you stood in front of him, placing yourself between Adrian and Belmont. Your hatred for the man blazed, unrestrained, raw and unfiltered.

“My love will not go,” you said firmly, voice low and trembling with fury. “He is no savior. I will not allow it.”

For the first time, tears of frustration welled in your eyes, blurring your vision. Why him? Gods, why him? “Leave him be!” You shoved Belmont hard, your voice shaking as you fought to steady it. “Some good you’ve done,” you spat.

Why had this man come now, when things were finally getting better? Why did Adrian have to be taken from you the moment he’d started to gather himself? Why must the world steal him away just as you’d found him again?

You lunged toward Belmont, fists clenched, ready to drive him out with whatever strength you had left. But before you could reach him, a hand caught your arm.

Adrian pulled you back gently, turning you to face him. For the first time that day, he met your eyes.

“I won’t go,” he whispered. His voice was calm, steady—the same tone you had used to comfort him through countless nightmares. “I won’t go anywhere.”

His words echoed softly in the room, but to you, they roared louder than any promise.

A chuckle escaped your lips, broken by an ill-hidden sob. You pulled him into a tight embrace, your fingers tangling in his hair as you clung to him. He wasn’t their savior. He was yours.

And that was all that mattered.

[multifandoms27-blog]

Early morning

Content: Adrian “Alucard” Tepes x gn!Reader

Warnings: None

Notes: I’m on phone so apologies if the format is weird.

• ───────────────── •

Every morning, Adrian gets up and makes you a splendid breakfast, complete with a coffee brewed with love. He knows how you like your breakfast, how you like your coffee. He’s spent so much time with you, he gets it to a T.

Even when he’s worn out from helping nearby villages fend off from night creatures, he still manages to make you comfortable. Never takes time for himself, no matter how much you may beg and plead.

Finally, his body caves in. He’s fast asleep by the time you wake up one morning, and you decide to make him comfortable. Slipping out of bed, making sure not to wake him, you ran to the kitchen to start preparing his breakfast.

• ───────────────── •

Alucard woke up without you next to him. His nightgown twisted around his legs and his skin felt hot. He had been under the covers for too long. Getting out of bed, his nightgown reaching past his knees, he opted to change before meeting you wherever you were. He guessed the kitchen.

He gasped. The kitchen! Breakfast! Hurriedly, he put on black pants and a white blouse before rushing to the kitchen. He wanted to start on your breakfast right away - you must be starving!

To his surprise, you were already in the kitchen, his apron on you, spatula in hand, and pan sizzling. He stopped. You were cooking. For him.

“Hi honey, how’d you sleep?”

“…Fine. What’s all this?”

“Well I hope it was more than fine, you slept for a while!” You grinned. “More than you have in a long time.”

“I know, and I’m sorry I did, I-“

“Adrian, stop. Let me take care of you for once.” You placed a hand on his chest. “I made eggs, sausage, and I’m working on the pancakes.”

“Need any help?” Alucard offered.

“No, you just sit down. I made you some coffee for you to sip on.” You reached over and grabbed a cup off of the coffee machine, quickly added what he liked and handed it to him with a smile.

Adrian reflected your smile, and moved to sit at the table. While your back was turned to him, he took a sip of the coffee. It…had an interesting taste. One that made his face scrunch up in disgust. He put it down and tried his hardest not to chuck it out of one of the windows behind him.

When you presented breakfast to him, admittedly he was a little hesitant. If your coffee was anything like it, he was scared. But when he bit into the pancake, he was surprised to find it perfectly fluffy. The sausage had the perfect amount of char on them, with brown insides. The eggs were perfectly scrambled, though its hard to screw up scrambled eggs. But the seasoning was on point.

As he was chowing down on the food, you were watching with admiration. “So I take it you like it?”

“Yes, darling. It is exquisite.”

You giggled and reached over and took a sip of his coffee. Your own face distorted in disgust. ��Eugh! I can’t believe I made you drink this, I’m so sorry hon.”

“I don’t mind.” He minded.

“Maybe I should leave the coffee making to you…” You sigh dejectedly.

“You okay?” Adrian asked.

“I just wanted the breakfast to be perfect.” You put your head in your hand.

“It is perfect. One small, bad thing isn’t going to ruin this moment, my love.” He put a hand on your shoulder. “This breakfast is perfect already, because it was made by the person I love most.”

You look up at him. “Really?”

“Really.”

You grin again, lean in and kiss him. “Eat up, Lulu, we have plenty more.”

“Are you going to eat?” Adrian asked.

“I will, after you’ve had your fill.”

• ───────────────── •

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to request, or look for more of your favorite character!

[shattersstar]

A possessive kiss in the rain for Alucard (Castlevania) and reader

First time ever requesting! I love your writing and your series on alucard! Feel free to make a whole new thing or to even ignore this,no pressure! Thank you!

possessive kiss in the rain + adrian tepes x vampire!reader

a/n: did i use this as an excuse to include striga? yeah of course <33 but tyyy for the request along with ur kind words im v honoured 😌 and sorry for taking forever with this i did have a lot of fun writing it tho so i hope u enjoy!!

—

It was quiet, the sun setting around an hour ago and it was still quiet. Quiet when you climbed out of the caravan to find Sypha and Trevor building a fire, quiet when you took a seat against a tree—the speaker not too far behind, even quieter when Adrian made his way back to camp, finding the magician laying her head in your lap while you stared into the flames. Both the men in your company grumbled at the sight, though Trevor had long dozed off against a tree of his own, while Adrian beckoned you with his eyes. You rose without warning Sypha, she yelped and scolded your manners as she rose to dust herself off. Her words went over your head, you offered a half glance over your shoulder in response, but tensed at the sound of her calling Adrian’s name—his other name.

Alucard rolled off her tongue as easily as all the other humans who dubbed him so. You did your best not to roll your eyes at the title, brushing past the half vampire who bid goodbye to the humans you traveled with.

You both moved silently, the ambient scape of the forest filled the air—branches snapped and leaves crunched in the distance as birds sang above and insects trilled below. You had stayed hidden amongst the trees, but followed parallel to the path that led to a cattle village nearby. And if the horde moved as you all predicted, they were likely to pass over soon. A buffet of beef would surely bring them calling, but it was still too quiet. Animals should have scattered when the wind chilled, bringing the scent of rot and decay. The sky also had not clouded over with the mass of the night creatures, the moonlight still slit through the trees and danced on your skin.

Adrian’s pointed silence didn’t help, but you were too caught up in where the night creatures were to dwell on it. It was not like them to wait so long to show themselves, the sun had set over an hour ago now—maybe they were not here yet.

You were simply ahead of schedule, you settled on, wondering if Adrian had decided the same. You were going to ask him about the silence, about the calm—yet he seemed anything, but calm. When you glanced over your shoulder you could see the emotions swirling in his golden eyes, contemplating and consuming him. “Are you okay?” You asked suddenly, your voice was the loudest thing within miles it seemed.

“Sypha’s quite taken with you.” Adrian replied, and your brows shot up your face. You stayed quiet for sometime in front of the dhampir, trying to understand the root of his statement. Perhaps the question within it. Sypha’a affection and interest towards you was what he had been stewing on?

Was it…jealousy?

No. “She has never been around our kind before and now she has two wells of knowledge. It's the speaker side of her—the only side of her.” You sounded defensive, and you hated it, over a century alive on this earth and still unable to hide yourself from those feelings. The ones Adrian brought out in you with a simple stare.

“I suppose, she does interrogate me to no end.” You both laughed lightly at that. You felt a little easier, ready to move one when he spoke again, “She’s quite comfortable around you—honest around you.”

“Comfortable?!” Your anger surfaced too fast—you knew it the moment you whipped around and Adrian took half a step back. Jarred by your reaction and the glint of your fangs in the moonlight. You wanted to calm down, but it was too heavy, “You think she should be weary of me, scared Adrian? Its okay because you can go out in the sun and survive without blood, but, but I’m—“

“No my darling.” He never interrupted you, never broke that respect he offered so easily a lifetime ago, but he did this time with a hushed tone. It silenced you, jaw clenching as you looked away. You were never one for dramatics, not in front of him especially, but it burned something deep in your chest to feel even more alienated. Forced to see skulls of vampires in the Belmont’s hold—trophies and artifacts of loved ones neatly cataloged amongst the goodies you know the Belmont boy was dying to use on you.

Adrian was easy to stomach and you were the one to be scared of, the one who stayed hidden in the caravan during the days and unable to spend a minute at night alone without wild accusations about your whereabouts, motives or more being thrown around. It had calmed down in recent days, Sypha’s unbridled affection towards you may have been a part of that, but it could also be the nights spent on hunts. Just you and Adrian, the only person who would never judge you, never see your carnage and violence and think anything of it.

It was to ease the burden the two humans had been facing, nights spent clearing areas far and wide while they worked through the days. And to quell the restless Adrian sensed brewing in you. You had barely been sleeping during the days, staring into the brief glimpses of sunlight from the back of the covered wagon with dead eyes, spending the nights irritated and distant, which never helped whatever they may think of you.

But the distance, that helped. The time spent alone with Adrian, moments to feed and drink in peace on the unfortunate souls who didn’t manage to escape the horde. Adrian often collected canteens of blood for you, keeping them with his things and out of Trevor’s knowledge. You never questioned the secrecy, but did have to stop your eyes from widening in surprise when he first gave you one. You had never asked Adrian to do such a thing, to care and attend to you in his own silent ways.

It made your anger dissolve fully, he called your name after you let out an unneeded sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you so. I know it's difficult, I see it. I promise.” His hand met your cheek, cradling you for a soft second. You leaned into his touch before remembering the reason you were out here. You would find the words later, instead you kissed his palm before turning back to the path. He stayed by your side as best he could, sometimes drifting behind with the forest demanded so, but always within reach. It was only when a scream pierced somewhere in the distance Adrian slipped in front of you. You both leaned into your senses, and while you both located the source of the scream, you also caught a scent of something familiar.

Something from lifetimes ago that brought back memories from your human life. You tried to shake the sudden onslaught of emotions, you were always drowning in what you felt. Alive or dead your feelings consumed you wholly. Adrian had already taken off in the direction and while you tried to follow, that warm floral scent only grew stronger. You found yourself stopping and watching him vanish into the dark of the woods. You knew another vampire was nearby, and as you carefully followed the scent, you found yourself in a small clearing.

A woman, tall and broad, sat sharpening her large blade while you lurked in the tree line. You watched her, wondering why she was here when she called out.

“No need to hide.” Her voice carried on the wind and reminded you of home. You moved at lightning speed, appearing in front of her, your long cloak settling as the breeze from your movements fluttered her long hair.

“Who are you?” You asked.

“Striga, one of four rulers of Styria.” She placed her blade against the log she sat upon, pushing herself up to her full towering height. The moonlight caught Striga's hair as she moved to stand next to you, and you couldn't deny the fact she was beautiful. Strong and powerful, but with the eyes of a lover. That kind that drew you in, saw into your soul and kissed the barest parts of your condemned spirit.

“Styria…” You whispered, it had been too many lifetimes ago since you had set foot on the shores of your birth place. And now, one of its vampire rulers stood in front of you, radiating that warm smell of jasmine and something indescribably citrus that reminded you of where you had grown up. You had left your past behind you, never returning to where you had been turned, not since you were free. Though, you had always hoped to catch that scent of Styria again and finally understand the complexities of its smell with your heightened senses. Yet you were still unable to place the adjectives that gave you a true answer to the intoxicating scent.

“You're the vampire traveling with the Belmont boy.” She was close enough that her arm brushed yours.

“I am.” You confirmed, while Striga raised a brow. Her strong arms crossed over her chest, black and purple armor amplifying her size.

“You ally yourself with the enemy.”

“I ally myself to Ad…Alucard, and if that’s the company he keeps, then it is the company I keep.” You explained, trying to ignore the bitterness at the sound of his other name.

She laughed, a low sound that made you smile involuntarily. “You’re quite something to be with a…half…thing like him.”

You laughed weakly, unable to gauge her tone. “Do you forget he’s the son of Dracula?” You inquired, scanning the tree line where just beyond night creatures howled and screeched.

“I suppose you have faith in him, leaving him to fight alone so you could speak to me.”

You didn’t reply, couldn’t muster a lie in response to what was an obvious statement. You both had lived long to know it wasn’t a question and that it was true. Striga intrigued you, standing tall and alone, and reminiscent of a life you had tried to forget. Her gorgeous purple robes were set against the royal blue sky streaked with orange as shards of leftover sunlight tangled in the thick evening clouds.

“I have heard such stories of his fighting.” Striga suddenly stated, the lit of her accent more noticeable with the casual cadence of her tone.

“Its breathtaking.” You found yourself murmuring, Adrian’s strength was always something to behold. His swiftness and keen eye, how he held his sword ever so carefully and cut many in half with more grace than a trained dancer. He was violence and art in motion. He was yours forever. It made you grin, small and fangs peaking out.

“You wear your affection on your face, he should be honoured to be cherished by someone as beautiful as you.”

“You speak like a true soldier, warrior even. Of honour and worth. It is a beautiful way to want.” You turned to face her, taking in her green eyes and the charm wrapped around a single braid in her hair. It was a long tousled mess of black waves that were half swept up. You noticed the glinting clip that held her hair back and wondered how a notorious commander would own such a thing. Perhaps it was a gift from a lover like the crystal bracelet you wore. Adrian had fastened it around your wrist one early morning. You were dozing in the caravan with him, listening to Sypha try to pry stories from Trevor while easily supplying her own. It was nice to fall asleep to the lull of their mindless talk while in Adrian’s arms. It was then he slipped it over your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a few soft kisses there before carefully slipping into the day.

“And how do you love him? If you do?”

You held her gaze, “You imply that I don’t?”

“I’m curious if you don’t.” She corrected with a simple nod. “I find you beautiful and interesting, it would be disheartening to know you are spoken for.”

“I am.”

“By a man who stands on the opposite of side the war?”

“It appears so.”

Striga turned her attention to the sky, appealing to the heavens as she spoke her next words.

“Then I apologize for any hurt I may cause you during this war. I’ll find you and apologize in person, repent for as long as I must.”

“That is, if you truly hurt me.”

“No, I would find you anyways.”

You chuckled, “Why?”

“To see if you are still in love.” Striga shrugged her broad shoulders, the words almost too casual as if she knew something you did not. It made you nervous, another half laugh escaping your lips before you turned back towards the tree line. “You do love him?” She inquired, shifting closer. A moment of silence passed before a howl broke through the woods. Inhuman and sending a flock of birds into the night sky. You followed them with your gaze.

“I try not too.” You answered honestly, watching the winged creatures disappear into another part of the dense forest. Adrian was far too great for this world to be yours. You were a lowly vampire turned by a lonely widow who needed company more than blood. She begged and begged until she stopped taking no for an answer and turned you in your sleep. You woke up screaming and sobbing, a life robbed by someone who didn’t even end up wanting you. Her guilt consumed her whole, she had doomed you to the same life she wanted reprieve from and choose to let the church find and kill her. She left you alone, and you wanted to spend eternity just like that.

But you and Adrian had found each other, lonely in your own torrential ways. You had never met someone like him before, someone caught between two worlds you had given up on entirely. Adrian brought something to quell the loneliness of your cursed existence, and for that companionship, you’d follow him anywhere.

You would accept death at the hands of his father if it meant stopping the bloodshed as Adrian wanted. You had nothing, but your entire self to give to him. Maybe besides the knowledge from the life you lived and the sword on your hip. He could have something more normal, more human than you, if that’s what he so wanted from his life. You had always understood that, accepted that and tried to love him a little less in spite of it all.

Yet, your heart bled for him in ways you had never known in your brief human life, and forever stretching vampiric one. It was almost painful, how much you craved him. And almost, almost, was more powerful than the lust for blood that fueled your existence.

“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear “ Striga’s soft voice broke you from your thoughts, reality crashing down as Adrian stood, panting, at the edge of the clearing. He was across from you, hunched forward slightly, and hand on his blade. “I will be seeing you, soon I pray.” Striga hummed, bringing your attention to her face as she grabbed your bare hand with her gloved one. She brought your knuckles to her lips, placing a chaste kiss all while her sea green eyes bored into yours.

You opened your mouth to respond, but she vanished into the night before your hand reached your side. You pivoted back towards Adrian, walking in his direction at a steady pace, while your gaze fell to your feet. You focused on each step, one foot in front of the other, until his hands jumped to your biceps and stopped you in place.

You were about a foot from him, head tilting from the ground to meet his angry gaze. Adrian dropped his hands from you, letting silence wash over you two as the forest’s din became too loud in your ears.

“I’m sorry.” You blurted out, anything to cut the silence and tension along with it.

Adrian shifted his weight, the sunny yellow of his eyes was a deep amber in the dark of night. “Why were you here?”

“I could smell a vampire, and investigated.”

“Investigated!?” His tone inflected with the anger he normally kept at bay.

“She was from Styria and I-I was curious. Is that wrong?” You were finding your ground, steadying your voice as challenge lingered in your tone.

You two never fought, not like this.

“Was it wrong to leave me—“

“You are more than capable, we both know that Adrian.” You snapped, you would not be guilted into seeing him as helpless. Adrian was anything, but that.

“Why did she kiss your hand?” Your angered confidence faltered, your gaze softening as something…sad bled into his voice. Something cold and lonely you knew well.

“I don’t know.”

His jaw clicked, and in an instant he was in your space, fangs flashing because he couldn’t help it, as his fingers grasped your jaw. He stared into your eyes and asked you again. Perhaps it was the proximity, or your own ego dying down, but you saw through him so clearly. So easily, as you always had, and understood.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, as the looming clouds finally began to cry soft tears of rain.

Pat. Pat. Pat. Against your clothes, it wasn’t torrential, but that misty rain that made everything hazy.

“She was interested in me, she complimented me and asked about you—us. She reminded me of a place I called home ages ago but my love, she is not you.” Maybe it was jealousy earlier when Adrian asked about Sypha, but regardless it definitely was now. You were unsure how he could think such things when you felt so unworthy of him, and he was worried about a woman you met once. Yes she was beautiful, and carried power and confidence like it was given to her by god, but she was not the man you loved.

The one you had swore yourself to, one you killed for and one you would gladly die for if he so much as asked. His grip faltered, eyelids shuddering as your soft explanation washed over him like the rain. With a voice barely above a whisper on the wind you continued, “I never have nor will I give myself to someone like I have you, Adrian. I would do anything at your behest. Anything beloved.” You pressed your hands against his torso, clinging to the fabric of his coat as best you could.

“Anything?” He rasped, like speaking was a chore he had no capacity for.

“I’d burn worlds down or build them up if you asked. I’d kill the Belmont boy or give my life for his if you asked. I’d lock myself away and never speak to anyone but you if that’s what you wanted. Yes, my love, anything.”

“Just let me kiss you.” Adrian’s mouth met yours before you could answer, but you both knew it was a yes. It was more teeth and fang than anything at first, as the momentum of his body slamming into yours, sent you reeling back a step before one of his hands moved to your waist. Your hands slipped up his chest, fingers still clutching the fabric before one of your hands tangled into his hair. Fingers toying with the golden lock that cascaded down his back.

Adrian still had one hand cradling your jaw, keeping you in place as he kissed you with enough desire to make you delirious. Your mouths moved together, his fangs grazing your bottom lip. He wasn’t usually like this, bold and desperate, but you would let Adrian kiss and hold you however he needed. To let the jealousy spiral through his system and find release in your lips against his.

You smiled against his mouth, nails scraping deliciously through his hair before his tongue found yours. You were faintly aware of the rain, starting to beat down heavier with each second you spent lost in each other's embrace. Adrian finally pulled away, letting his thumb smooth over your chin before finding the other side of your waist. You let both your arms wrap around his neck, stealing soft kisses as the thunder grew louder. You knew you would have to go back soon, but Adrian was still preoccupied with leaving open mouth kisses against yours, pulling back slightly before deciding he still needed more. It was more tender, what you were used to from him. Chasing your lips, a few soft pecks turning into something more heated before he would start the cycle again.

You played with his hair and felt his fingers twitch against your side as the darkness clouding his beautiful expression softened. Adrian stopped his assault of kisses, dropping his head to the curve of your neck. You kissed the top of his head, fingers slipping out of his hair.

“I love you.” You murmured, such sentiments felt a little too human and empty for you. And you did love him, but it was just more than that. He still said it to you often, and you were easy to repeat the sentiment, but you rarely offered it on your own. It was no reflection of him, it was just your distance from humanity you could never get back. But you knew Adrian needed to hear it.

“I love you too darling.” He hummed against your skin, leaving a kiss there before standing at his full height. You stared at him for a moment, the want still clear in his eyes as he tucked you against his side. You walked through the forest with clasped hands, the thick trees keeping out some of the rain, not that you cared.

You both had faster means of returning to camp, but pressed against Adrian who occasionally left kisses on the fabric by your shoulder or brought your intertwined hands to his lips, was enough to forget about the storm. Adrian engulfed you and drowned you in ways the rain never could, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[beevean]

https://fandomwire.com/i-wouldnt-even-know-how-warren-ellis-had-the-most-realistic-reason-for-not-consulting-the-castlevania-video-games-and-it-wasnt-because-of-wikipedia/

I have no words

I can genuinely believe that a 50 something person may be shit with technology, my mother can barely use her iphone, but an accomplished writer who most definitely should know how to write using writing programs in pretty advanced ways? Who even used to run his own online blog and website?

Are you seriously telling me that he wouldn't know to look on Youtube on how to use a fucking NES and GBA emulator?

The writer and co-showrunner of Castlevania, Warren Ellis, is the man responsible for bringing the dark vampire-filled world of Castlevania to the anime universe and making one of the best video game adaptations of all time. However, the shocking fact is that Ellis has never played the Castlevania video game in his life.

I'm gonna be blunt: it's impossible to write a good adaptation, let alone "one of the best adaptations of all time", without experiencing the source material.

If you like NFCV for its story and characters, as its own thing, it's a different conversation. But it is not, in any way, shape or form, a good adaptation. It's the equivalent of AI mashing together information it randomly finds on the Internet. Ellis and his crew took elements from the wiki and then smushed them without understanding their significance: things like Trevor's scar, Lisa's last words and her relationship with Alucard, Hector and Isaac's entire backgrounds and outfits, the Belmont legacy and the importance of the Vampire Killer. It superficially resembles the games in some details, but the core of the lore and the messages was twisted beyond recognition.

And clearly, the Deats' creed as fans hardly mattered, since the show's idea of being faithful to the games is random easter eggs like the wall meat or Gergoth or the Glyphs in Sypha's book or what have you, but they allowed the story to derail so much, Nocturne can't even be considered an adaptation anymore.

I also can't pity Ellis much, when the writers of Captain N, in the '80s, resorted to describing to each other on the phone what they could see on their discolored TV. Nowadays we have Youtube. It's the absolute bare minimum one can do to understand a game. Even my grandma knows how to use Youtube by now. We're not even talking about behemoths like The Last Of Us: an average playthrough of Dracula's Curse is 1:40 hours long, like a movie, and Curse of Darkness' cutscenes make for a 40 minute video. Fucking hell you might as well read the scripts on the wiki if you're that lazy.

Imagine doing this for books. Imagine refusing to read a book because it's too hard and just skimming the wikis for information before turning it into a movie. Book fans would riot and reject such a shallow adaptation. But it's okay when it's videogames, right? They're just a bunch of pixels anyway :^) good enough to use as a springboard for your edgy Berserk/GoT ripoff, not good enough to be understood, right? :^)

[shiklah]

resurrection

Castlevania

Alucard x reader

Every night was just as exhausting and sleepless as the one before. The darkness reigning in the castle was blacker than the night itself, and the quiet sobs echoing through the high corridors did nothing to calm her pounding heart. She wanted to rise, to run from her chamber, to take him in her arms and promise that everything would be okay—that he hadn't lost everything, that he could count on her. But she knew there were two things Adrian despised most: her and showing weakness. So she sat there, wrapped in her bedding, feeling the chill of the night air on her back, hearing the rain tapping against the windows and his weeping, which broke her heart like nothing else.

It was she, along with Trevor and Sypha, who had awakened him in the crypts beneath Gresit. She had helped them defend the towns and even kill Dracula. And in the end, at Sypha's request, she had stayed in the castle so Adrian wouldn't drown in his grief and despair alone—so he wouldn’t lose himself to sorrow and solitude. But what good was her presence if he didn’t want to see her? They didn’t eat together, didn’t talk; he avoided her at every turn, drifting through the halls like a shadow, either confined to his room or wandering outside. They could go an entire day without exchanging a single word, despite living under the same roof.

She had long understood that her presence wasn’t welcome. She tried her best to be a support to him, to help him, but he pushed her away time and again, refusing to even listen. So she stopped speaking altogether. They endured each other’s company only when necessity demanded it, and it broke her heart.

She loved him so much it made her physically ill just to think about it. She admired his love for his mother and humanity, his friendship with the hunter and the Speaker. She admired how good he could be—though never to her.

She knew he was mistrustful, and she didn’t blame him. Still, she hoped that after all this time together, he might show her a shred of sympathy. But she was wrong. It seemed to her that, day by day, his hatred for her only grew, and she couldn’t understand the source of his relentless, loathsome disdain.

But that night, she couldn’t bear it any longer. Whether it was the sound of the rain or the fact that his sobs seemed even more anguished than usual, she couldn’t stand the sorrow tearing her soul in two.

She untangled herself from the sheets, her bare feet meeting the cold marble floor. She walked to the door, opening it with a loud creak. She glanced down the corridor, lit only by long slashes of moonlight streaming through the tall windows. She listened to the silence—for his crying had stopped.

Still, she slowly made her way toward his chamber, her mind swirling with thoughts. She didn’t know if what she was doing was right; she was almost certain he would throw her out the moment she crossed his threshold. But she couldn’t stand the unbearable inaction any longer; it gnawed at her, and was surely one of the many reasons she couldn’t sleep.

The castle was as grim and foreboding as ever. No one cleaned it, no one decorated it, no one cared for it. She was too afraid to change anything, fearing Adrian would disapprove of her initiative. Even though she believed the remnants of that fateful battle only deepened their shared melancholy, she dared not touch anything.

At night, it was the worst. All the haunting memories crowded her mind. The wind howled outside the windows, the chill seeped under her quilt, and the castle loomed in its oppressive darkness. On those saddest nights, they both cried.

She slowly opened the equally creaky door, peeking inside timidly. On the grand bed at the center of the room, she saw his silhouette, curled up and frail, bathed in the silver glow of the moonlight.

"Get out," he growled at her in that low, warning tone he always used. But she, surprising both herself and him, stepped deeper into the room, closing the wooden door behind her. She leaned against it hesitantly, not wanting to anger him further.

And silence fell. Heavy, dense, oppressive silence. Only the rain, the wind, and her short, quiet breaths could be heard.

The man sat up, still hunched over, uncertain, furious, and full of sorrow. He glared at her from under his brows with a venomous gaze, giving her yet another signal that she was unwelcome. Yet she ignored even that warning, slowly making her way toward him. He still didn’t speak, his eyes carefully tracking her every move. Stray strands of his long hair fell across his tired, tear-streaked face, but he paid them no mind.

She stopped halfway between the door and the bed, her gaze never wavering from his. She clasped her hands together, nervously picking at her skin. And the silence remained.

“I want to help you,” she said timidly, cautiously. Adrian narrowed his eyes, but he didn’t move an inch.

“I don’t need help, least of all from you. Leave.”

She looked at him with warm, compassionate eyes. Taking a deep breath, she took a few slow, deliberate steps closer before sitting on the edge of the bed, as far from him as possible. She placed her hand on the plush quilt and ran her fingers over it. Its coldness surprised her. But she closed her eyes and exhaled softly. His room smelled like the rest of the castle��damp, musty, and full of death.

She could feel his piercing gaze on her. She also felt a flicker of hope, for he hadn’t yet thrown her out.

“You’re just like Belmont,” she finally said, not even looking at him. She didn’t want to see his reaction, didn’t want to be intimidated, angered, or saddened by it. She needed to say what had weighed on her soul for so long but had never found the opportunity to voice. “So stubborn, relentless, vengeful, and angry. You’re always angry, but also full of grief. The only difference between the two of you is that he’s no longer alone, while you treat your solitude like a cross you carry with both pain and pride.”

He didn’t respond. He just watched as the moonlight danced across her face, as her hair slipped free of its messy arrangement, as her pale hand moved across the quilt, as her chest rose gently with each shallow breath, as her lips formed each cruel word. And he was mesmerized.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

That question echoed in his mind like a church bell. Did he hate her? Quite the opposite.

When he had first seen her, he hadn’t noticed her uncertainty, hesitation, or fear. His eyes had fallen on her hands—slender, pale, delicate, and refined, so unlike those of a warrior. And he thought of them often—when she placed a hand on his shoulder, telling him some anecdote, or when she lit a fire, cursing softly at the leaping flames, or when she tended to Sypha’s wounds, speaking warm, comforting words.

That’s how she was to him—delicate, refined, and warm. He liked her calm voice that soothed his frayed nerves. He liked her cool touch, which burned him like the hottest flame. He liked her laughter, echoing through the castle’s walls. He liked her wide smile, which she offered him at every opportunity, though he gave her so few. He even liked her sticky tears because they showed him they shared something in common.

And she was so unique to him, one of a kind. So he knew he couldn’t trust her—because he had come to love her so deeply. And everything he loved so deeply turned against him.

“Just leave,” he muttered more calmly this time. He lay back down in his previous position and covered himself with the quilt. He only heard her sigh in disappointment, and it broke his heart.

She began humming a melody under her breath, one he had never heard before. But he didn’t move, waiting passively.

And she didn’t stop. She closed her eyes again, running her hand over the bedding, listening to the sound of the wind.

“They often sang this song in my village,” she whispered, trying to recall even a few words of the song her grandmother used to sing to her in moments like this—moments filled with sorrow and the weight of unspoken words.

She finally rose from the bed, smiling warmly, though she knew he couldn’t see it. Once again, she felt the chill of the floor beneath her feet, and a shiver ran down her spine.

“Don’t cry anymore. It breaks my heart.”

“What do you mean?”

She laughed softly, her voice a sparkling sound that quickened his heartbeat. He sat up again, this time propping himself on straightened arms. He studied her once more, his gaze much gentler now.

“That I’m tired of loving you.”

He didn’t know what to do. Should he throw himself into her arms? Should he respond to her confession with one of his own? Should he kiss her warm, soft lips, or grasp her cool hands and kiss them instead? Should he apologize for every bitter word? He did nothing.

“This castle makes my head spin. I’m leaving.”

After a wave of euphoria, he felt the icy shock of disappointment and despair wash over him. His hands began to tremble uncontrollably, and his breathing became uneven. She couldn’t leave him. She had promised Sypha, she had promised Trevor... she had promised him.

"No"

he finally said in a firm voice. He got up from the bed, standing tall, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

"I need you here."

"Many people need me."

That silenced him because he knew she was right. How much more useful would she be in the simplest village, defending those who couldn’t defend themselves, spreading knowledge to those without access, healing those who didn’t know how? And by his side? She merely lingered in the dark, old castle, enduring his difficult character, mood swings, and constant humiliation, wasting her potential within the four walls of her room, which was no longer a chamber but almost a cell.

And yet, as selfish as it sounded, he couldn’t let her go. Not when he knew he loved her as much as she loved him.

"Give me a chance," he whispered mournfully. Slowly, he stepped toward her, enveloping her hands in his. He looked at her with an expectant gaze, but she didn’t intend to speak. Not after everything, not in a moment when she had decided to let go of that cursed love. Despite her surprise, it was the first time Adrian addressed her with such care, kindness, and calm. The first time she saw, instead of hatred, his need for her to be there. "I live only to see your face every day"

"You breathe, you eat, you sleep. But that can hardly be called living."

"Then help me come back to life."

[shinjisdone]

Whenever I think of a Hellsing reader-insert my mind ALWAYS goes to the reader being another human, along with Seras, that Alucard transformed into a vampire. And I like to think that this new fledgling vampire reader really does love their master and their fellow fledgling.

It’s hard to explain because the concept is so vibe-based in my head but they’re like a little protective puppy. And I think Alucard would find it adorable that one of his fledglings is protective over him, even when they know that he is probably the most powerful person on the planet.

Its cute! You can definitely have/create a character that would find comfort in finding or turning into someone who they can call loved ones and family.

lol Seras may be like ????? Thank you but pls do not die for me! Pls pls pls stay okay!

Alucard would find it hilarioussssss

This newbie fledging wants to protect him???? Omg how foolishly adorable. He'd probably humor them just to see what they'd do and it makes him laugh. What a silly creature

[ygoartreviews]

Vampire Voivode

Okay, now this card feels like it came straight out of a Castlevania game. You could tell me that this is Alucard with some fancy demon armor on and I would nod and say "yeah." There's a ton of name puns going on in the Japanese name, from the way they spelled "Dracula" being capable of being read as "Dragon Blooded Prince" and the weird, otherwise unexplained bone dragon being there because of the origin of the name "Dracula." The English version only has a reference to Vlad the Impaler, who was a voivode (a military leader title) in real life. About the art itself, I think the high amount of detail here works until you get to this guy's face and shoulder area. There's just so much detail crammed in such a small space that a lot of that detail loses any actual meaning. I think a good example is his eyes, where it's impossible to tell what exactly is going on there (are they closed? Does he have two black eyes? Is he looking down with faintly red sclera and killer purple eyeshadow? I have no idea). There's also the bizarre posing of the bone dragon, but I can forgive that because, well, its bones. I also don't think its very distinct from the vampire proper in some places, but that's probably the point (see above).

Rating: 7/10

[randomlurker21]

okay, so I need someone who has played the Castlevania games to help me with this. I absolutely loved Castlevania: Nocturne and have been consuming all of its content on this website/app, and Ive seen a lot of people talk about Alucard and Maria together... but isn't Maria, like, AT MOST 16 years old??? Do they get together in the games when she's older? I know there are people who aren't bothered by ships with age gaps, but I feel like shipping a teenage girl with someone who's over 300 years old and has a physical age of at least 20-22 years old is a little weird. Like I said, maybe there's something that I'm not understanding since I haven't played the games and am missing some context, so could someone who has please give some insight???

[alpaca-clouds]

My fucked up Belmont family headcanon

Or: Let me talk about medieval religious persecution!

Okay, my exam is done, weekend is near. And a couple of days ago @autumnmobile12 posted about the child skull in the Belmont family hold.

So let me use this chance to talk about my headcanon both about the Belmont family - and the role of dhampirs in the Castlevania anime universe.

Please note, this at times outright contradicts the game canon. But in quite a few ways the series already does that either way, so to quote one Trevor Belmont: "I don't care."

When the trio comes to the Belmont Hold, Alucard expresses his disgust saying it is like a museum to the eradication of his species. And it kinda seems even more than that, given there are also quite a few other skeletons and what not from other monsters littered throughout the hold.

And, well... That is kinda messed up, right?

Now in the games the story somewhat goes "Leon is a knight and friends with Mathias, fiancé gets kidnapped, lays down his title, Mathias turns into Dracula, Leon swears to kill monsters, Belmonts become monster hunters." And while this gives a nice through line tying the family to Dracula... historically speaking it is also kinda boring.

So, I decided to tie the entire story back to something else.

And yes, this is mostly just another excuse for me to talk about history. Sorry about that.

Let's talk about Constantine and the late Roman empire.

If you have read up on your history of Christianity, you might know that first Christians were in fact a persecuted minority, who would in fact often be killed and burned by the Romans. But then in the late Roman period, Emperor Constantine converted to Christianity and suddenly Rome was a Christian empire. Now, there are myths and legends around why he converted. Stuff like him receiving prophetic dreams and what not. But in the end it does not matter. What matters is, that Rome was Christian now and Rome did its damnest to spread Christianity. Moving the capital further East to be closer to the holy land and what not.

Now, with Christianity suddenly being the main religion the tables were turned. And suddenly Rome began to outlaw pegan religion, which included the old Roman religion. You know, the one with Jupiter, Juno, Venus and what not. First it was just small stuff. Like animal sacrifices became outlawed and temples were taxed. But it quickly escalated from there, with temples getting looted and burned. And then, not too many years later, Theodosius I was the new emperor and the violence against the pegans escalated. Temples were burned down and pegans were hunted down, forced to convert or killed.

You might ask now: What does this have to do with the Belmonts?

Well, I will tell you. See, when we look at history, we usually do our damnest to distinguish fact from fiction. But that is usually not history is written down. Especially not religious history. That always comes with a good helping of god-killing.

So, yes. According to myth in fact there were heroes, that came the high medieval period would turn into knights, who went out to kill monsters. And I mean, probably everyone can name at least a handful of dragon slayers at least.

In real history of course we see these myths are embelishments and symbolism. As myths. But... If we look at the Castlevania world, we can obviously see that in this world monsters are real.

Sooooo... My headcanon for the Belmont family is, that they were in fact employed by the Vatican in the early medieval period to hunt down those monsters as the Vatican saw these monsters as an offense against God. That did not only include vampires, but all sort of other creatures that often were linked to old pegan believes of all sorts.

This means that in my headcanon the Belmonts did in fact hunt monsters before Mathias became Dracula. Even more so: Mathias was a monster hunter as well, which was what gave him the knowledge to become what he became in the first place.

In fact the church had them hunt down monsters of all sorts, making monsters all but extinct by the late medieval period. Which is in fact why the church turned on the Belmont family. They had lost their use and at that point the Belmont family were a constant reminder that those monsters at some point had been real.

To put it differently: The Belmonts have actively partaken in the genocide of several - at times intelligent - species. And have done their utmost to also eradicate vampires and their dhampiric offspring.

They didn't do that out of wickedness or anything like that, but out of religious fervor, because they did in fact believe that they were doing the right thing.

The entire Mathias-Leon-Thing mostly just lead to them having it especially out for the vampires.

Funnily enough though, this also meant, that within Europe where all the monster hunters were, the places that became safe for monsters and other supernatural creatures were either those areas ruled by vampires because vampires did not care too much if there was a griffon living up the mountain as long as it did not hunt down the humans. The other safe place? Granadia, aka the place that later on would become Spain. Because it was under majority Muslim rule and while Muslims were rather stern about not practicing sorcery they did not persecute religious minorities and did not have it out for the monsters so much.

See, my issue is that the entire "Belmont good, Belmont hunt monsters" does not really gel with what we see in the series. While in the game canon we see that monsters and vampire are creatures of pure evil, this is not what the show is depicting. Vampires are as much complex persons, as the humans are. And as such they absolutely can decide to be good.

And yes, that very much means that I have Trevor later grapple with the fact that maybe his entire family history is not quite as heroic as he had believed it to be before. And that in fact his family also did not quite know as much about the monsters, as he had believed, given that after he has made friends with vampires he finds out that quite a few things he had believed about vampires are just plain wrong.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hi. I don’t know if requests are still open or not, but I was wondering if you could do some headcannons of Hector, Isaac, Alucard and Trevor helping their S/O through a panic attack??

If you feel uncomfortable writing this or if requests are closed please feel free to ignore this request. I hope you are well and staying safe 💞

Ask: Hi. I don’t know if requests are still open or not, but I was wondering if you could do some headcanons of Hector, Isaac, Alucard, and Trevor helping their S/O through a panic attack??

If you feel uncomfortable writing this or if requests are closed please feel free to ignore this request. I hope you are well and staying safe 💞

A/N: Requests are still closed as of right now, but this one made it in before that- I’m just a super slow tortoise when it comes to getting things done. (I think I’ve had like a year of writer’s block. That or it was just a major depressive episode�� Who’s to say?) Anyways, onwards and upwards! Here is how I think Hector, Isaac, Alucard, and Trevor would help their S/O through a panic attack. I hope they're good, normally when I'm panicking I just let myself freak tf out lol

☮ ☮ ☮

Hector: 

Hector knows exactly what a panic attack is. Okay, well maybe he doesn’t know all the psychology behind it, but he’s had plenty himself, so he understands how overwhelming they can feel. 

He may not pick up on the fact that you’re having one right away if he’s preoccupied with making night creatures at the moment. But he’s also one to worry about you- he’s lost almost everyone he’s loved in some way or another, so he makes a point of checking in between every couple of creations. 

He’ll see your labored breathing, the fear in your eyes, or the way you bend your body in half and know immediately that something is wrong. He’s learned from observing your behavior: which words and movements mean you’re happy and which ones mean you need help. 

He’ll physically come over to you, and place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. If you’re in his workshop, or somewhere else that isn’t exactly an ideal calm spot, he’ll usher you- carry you even- if he has to, to a safer place where the two of you can sit quietly. 

If you’re okay with being touched, he’ll hold you close to him, placing one of his hands on the small of your back. Using the other, he’ll grasp one of your hands and bring it to his chest so you can focus on the rhythm of his heartbeat. 

He takes deep calming breaths and urges you to match yours to his. 

Once you're past the worst of it, he’ll leave you alone momentarily to go and make the two of you tea. The two of you can sip your tea and enjoy the company of your many adorable undead pets together. It may be unnerving to some, but to you, when you’re all together, it helps make the world look less intimidating. 

Isaac: 

Isaac doesn't panic often, or, well, ever to be quite honest. He used to be terrified as a kid, but now that he’s a man in charge of his own destiny, that’s all behind him. That doesn’t mean he’s unaware of your feelings or anything. As a matter of fact, he prefers the focus to be on your feelings so he doesn’t have to share his. 

The first thing he has you do is drink some ice-cold water, to help your brain shift its focus from your overwhelming feelings to the shocking and quite refreshing feeling of the cool liquid going down your throat. 

The second thing he does is rub soothing circles into the pulse points on both your wrists. He learned from an acupuncturist in one of his many travels, that these points, called the Great Abyss and the Spirit Gate respectively, are good pressure points to use in alleviating feelings of anxiety. 

Thirdly, he makes sure those in and around the palace respect your privacy. He ushers any passersby away and uses his night creatures to reroute people to ensure no one other than him sees you in this state. He doesn’t want you to feel negatively judged for having feelings, because he lived his life like that for so long and he knows how awful it is. 

Once you’ve reached the peak of your panic attack and begin to come down, he’ll ask if you want to talk about what triggered you in the first place. After all, he is the King of Styria now. If it’s something he can change in the palace, or in the way people work, you can bet he’s going to fix it for your benefit. 

If it isn’t something he or you can change, but rather something you have no other choice but to live with, he mentally makes peace with it and urges you to do the same. Yes, feelings of panic are scary and they mess up your entire day, but if this is a part of who you are, he doesn’t want you to feel in any way angry at yourself or at fault. People carry all different burdens, this one just happens to be yours. And Isaac is more than happy, to let you know, you don’t carry this one alone. 

Alucard: 

Alucard is pretty stoic most of the time, at least, he tries to be. He’s not used to vocalizing or expressing how he feels. Hell, he doesn’t even really know how to process all that he feels, much less share it. So it’s safe to say, being a knowledgeable and comforting presence is foreign to him. 

Greta and Sypha do end up teaching him a little bit, but you’re gonna have to be very honest and open with him going forward if you want him to anticipate your needs beyond eating and sleeping every once in a while.

You’d most likely come to him and tell him. Either with an “Alucard, I need you,” or even a whispered, “Help.” And he’d come running, like superspeed running, over to you. 

Are you hurt? Are you bleeding? He’s checking for blood. No blood! Okay, any bruises? No bruises! He’s going through the physical list when he notices the way you’re trembling, the way you keep grasping at your chest, and the way you keep shaking your head ‘no’. He soon realizes it's not that kind of injury. 

He takes you to your room and sets you gently on the bed. He asks you directly: what can he do, and what do you need? Whatever it is he’ll get it, or he’ll ask for someone else to get it, so he can stay there in the meantime and hold you. 

He lets you play with his hair, something he rarely does, to keep your mind occupied on something else. He’ll even shift into his wolf form if you’d prefer a big fluffy doggie to cuddle with. 

Stemming off of what he’s learned from Sypha and Greta, he reminds you how much he loves you, and how much you mean to him. He thinks you’re a wonderful person- brave and strong. Panic attacks don’t change that. And he’s not upset or even shocked- life is scary, and your guys’ life has been very scary. 

Basically Alucard just wants you to know that even though he isn’t an expert at emotions, he’ll stay by your side, throughout it all. 

Trevor: 

Trevor actually used to have panic attacks a lot as a kid, but back then he had his family to help him through it. After they were taken from him, he shut down emotionally- something he needed to do to survive. So now, his emotional IQ isn’t the greatest. That doesn’t mean he’s not observant though. 

Being a trained monster hunter, he’s good at reading people. He can spot fear or aggression from a distance, and he’d definitely be able to sense panic in you. 

He would want to make sure the two of you are in a place and position for you to freak out freely, preferably away from prying strangers’ eyes. It’s not that he’s embarrassed, he just wants the two of you to feel safe enough to calm down, and it’s hard to do that with a bunch of judgemental eyes on you. 

Trevor’s priority is safety: so once the two of you are clear of people (or night creatures), he turns his attention to you. He instructs you to take deep breaths: in through your nose and out through your mouth- he remembers reading something about that in one of his family’s books a long time ago. 

If you’re not too hot, or in the middle of an anxiety-driven hot flash, he’ll offer you his coat/cloak to grip on or to cocoon yourself in. If you choose the former, he’ll place a reassuring hand on your shoulder, and practice his breathing with you. If you prefer the latter, he’ll pick your wrapped-up form and cradle you in his lap. And he’ll tell you stories from a happier time in his life- something he doesn’t share with anyone other than you- to distract your mind. It’s his way of being vulnerable with you. 

Trevor knows he comes off as stony, bitter, and just completely over-it in general, but he never wants you to think he feels that way about you. He loves you, and he prides himself on his ability to protect you and keep you safe. You’re his family now. He’s going to stick through it all with you- thick and thin. 

He might even softly sing some of the old Romanian lullabies his mother used to sing to him. But that’s only if you’re really, really panicked. Once you start teasing him about how he’s really just a big softie, he knows you’re going to be just fine.