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ruiniel · 1 year

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ok I just thought of this but Alucard x reader where the reader has been turned into a vampire (while he's away or something or during battle)and feeling like maybe he won't love them anymoreeee?

Ouch, anon!

This will be so angsty.

A Place to Hide

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Pairing: Alucard x Reader

Count: 1.5k

Rating: T

Tags/CW: Oneshot, Mutual pining, Angst, Context of battle, Mention of death, Alternate universe, Dark fantasy AU, Alucard POV, Vampirism, Longing, emotional hurt/comfort

Summary: This can be considered a follow-up of sorts set after 'To be free'. The murder of Lisa never happened. Instead, sometime in the future there is strife in the vampire world with an alliance of rebelling war chiefs over territory and Dracula is forced to respond. Reader character is an apprentice learning the doctor trade under Lisa. Trying to seek Adrian out after he left for battle was not a successful endeavor...

All characters depicted are 18+

"And you worry too much…"

Your words ricochet through his mind as he dismounts in haste along with the returning troops, the too-hindering armor singing mournfully with every movement, as it had done all those cold, cluttered days and nights he'd been away.

He crosses the barracks area built before the castle and ascends the stairs of his home, a bloodied letter crumpled in his right hand.

"Adrian!"

Like a ghost, a drop of crystal-clear water in a sea of blood, his mother runs towards him, sullying herself against his filthy form as she enfolds him in a fierce embrace. Her dainty fingers curl into his tattered cloak, and Lisa holds on to him with a frenzied relief after, he knows, weeks of fretting.

"You’re safe," Lisa murmurs, "You’re home," she shivers, drawing back to run swift, trembling fingers through his windswept hair.

"Mother," his eyes press shut, and he falls against her. She whispers to him, and all he wants is to drown in her arms and forget; the missive burns like hot coal, still crushed in his hand.

"Your father arrived ahead of you," Lisa says, holding him fast to her. "...they're still assessing status in the council chamber."

And Lisa, for her part, had been running the improvised hospice for their human allies. She looks as weary as he feels. "I know." He can barely speak. "Mother I… I received your letter; before the last skirmish."

They won. Careful tactical planning and losses included, there will be peace again in the borderlands without. For how long? None ever know.

He does not care. "... Where?"

Lisa releases him, slowly, holding him by the shoulders. "Adrian, will you not take the time to... to …"

"Where?" His voice cracks, his bones ache. He wishes he'd never welcomed you here, wishes he'd never met you, befriended you, loved you. He wishes, wishes, wishes as fools do.

"Why do you always push me away?"

Your voice, your face: enraged and so desperate. You needed him then, needed him and he was not here, and the closer he is now, the more the truth gains a near physical weight he pushes against with sisyphean misery.

"Adrian," his mother tries again, as he slowly pries her from him, shaking his head.

"Please."

She tells him. She tells him how you insisted on riding after him, two weeks or so prior, with a meager company through war-torn lands. How Lisa had done her utmost to deter you, but the influx of wounded human soldiers demanded most of her time and energy, day in, day out. She failed, and you would wait no longer. "Forgive me, forgive me..."

He brings Lisa close again, fervently kissing the top of her head, "Don’t. Please. Just... just tell me."

They stay embraced for another moment as the clamor of many rises up to the high, domed ceilings, and figures wade around them like wraiths. "The east tower," Lisa whispers, finally.

By the time he reaches the door, having carelessly stripped and cast off pieces of armor on the way, his vision is blurred. Memories of that day, that last day when you were angry with him but would not leave his side, had been a torturous comfort to his nights through each cut and healing wound, each enemy pierced, each slash of the sword; that day, when he awoke the evening of his departure with you in his bed and in his arms while the chamber's golden light caressed your bareness.

The hinges creak. The door opens, and darkness greets him.

"How am I to learn, Adrian, if you stand in my way?"

He calls to you. He seeks a heartbeat, but there is none; of course, there wouldn't be. The letter falls from his hand like a withered autumn leaf. He calls again, and again, stepping inside the room.

Darkness never posed a challenge to his sight, and as his eyes follow along the richly woven rug, he sees a bare foot, slowly retreating; a huddled shape, in one corner.

"Leave." A broken, barely audible voice.

Never again. Adrian nears and kneels by your side. "But I’ve only just arrived," he says through a forced, trembling smile.

A stir, a rise of hunched shoulders. "... you..."

"Yes, me," he says. "And I’ve missed you… so, so much."

A sigh his only answer, Adrian curls and uncurls his fists. "Will you look at me?"

"Why?" The shape stirs anew. He cannot tell what you might be feeling, not anymore. The signs are gone, but of course, it is you; wherever you are, whatever you are, he will always know.

"Because I… you went seeking for me, and I understand. A part of me... longed for you to do so, from dawn to dusk, every hour, every minute and second." He swallows. "Please," he begs even as a pair of glowing eyes meet his.

He reaches; cups your cheek and falls in dismay when you shun his touch, hiding your face away from him.

Your beautiful, determined face. His anger is boundless; he wants to know who, and make them pay. But you would tell no one of it, from what he learned, and it matters not at the moment. An interrogation is not what you need, nor does he.

"I am sorry. It should have been your choice, if it ever were to happen. I did not listen to you that night where... where I should have."

"Not your fault," he sees half of your face, eternal now, cut by a beam of moonlight. "I was impatient, wanted to reach you, to see you. I was—am, a selfish, selfish fool," you press your knuckles into your eyes "And now, look at me..."

Adrian carefully sits beside you. "No," he objects, poorly, but he's too exhausted, too weak; entranced by you being here, so close, alive despite the shadow imbuing your essence.

"You cannot hear it anymore, can you?"

Adrian shakes his head.

"It is gone."

"But you are not." He reaches, tentatively, and takes your hand, massaging into the knuckles.

"You're so... so warm..." you whisper, close to tears. "I never noticed before, but now, now..." Your words are as cold as your skin. "... what you knew is gone."

He is exhausted, you are hurting. It is over, it should’ve been over, he’d barely convinced you to stay behind back then, to keep safe and continue your work; but here you are anyway. Adrian tenderly pries your other hand away from your chest. He remembers the texture of your skin so well, remembers it soothing his face, his chest, gripping his hips with earnest abandon. Now, it barely returns the slightest pressure. He brings it to his forehead, breathes in deeply and raggedly before pressing the hand to his dry lips.

What can he say? That he regrets not being there? That it eats him from the inside like rot? That he’s never felt such longing nor such pain, and unless you demand it, he will never let you go again?

"I've not slept in days."

Adrian nods slowly, bringing a tentative arm around your shoulders. "It will be so for a while, from what I know." The freezing nightly air glides through an open window by your naked feet, but he realizes it has long ceased to be an issue for you.

"I hear everything around me; every beat of wings, every sigh of wind or flutter of a living heart. The darkness in all things speaks to me in a language I understand, and yet do not."

Unable to resist any longer, Adrian brings and cradles your head to his chest. "There are other changes, yet to come. It is fresh, and you will… you will hurt for a while longer. But... but I am here now, and, if you'll have me, will... I can help."

You're shaking against him, and he knows, if you had tears to shed, they'd be blood. "Adrian, I regret what I said to you that night, how I pushed you, how—"

"I do not." He tips your chin up, rubs his thumb over your lip. "You spoke your... our truth. And for that, you were much braver than I," he follows. "I missed you," he repeats, like a craven.

You melt against his side. "You are warm, I am cold."

"You will take from my warmth."

"I've lost… I’ve lost myself, my very being, my humanity, all my doing," you murmur, spent.

"No," he shakes his head, "Humanity consists of much, much more than a beating heart, you know this."

You smile sadly against the black canvas of the room. "So many out there who would beg to differ."

"... and none of them will ever lay a finger on you in this life, or any other."

Adrian dares to bring you more into him, a hand pressing into your back. You feel the same, he feels whole again. Will you see it? Will you understand?

"I hunger," you speak, the word coated with shame as you melt into him. "I hunger, but I refuse to… to…"

"You must drink to live, now. That is the way of things."

Your fingers claw at his chest. You are strong, so very strong. "My creed is to save lives, not take them."

Adrian draws you into his lap as you finally meet his gaze fully, a peek of fang between your lips. "And so it will stay," he tells you, soothingly but with conviction, pressing you closer as his hand cups the back of your head, as he reaches and unfastens the collar of his tunic. "... I promise."

MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER

More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]

BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)

Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated

#alucard castlevania x reader #castlevania fanfiction #adrian tepes x reader #x reader #alucard x reader #castlevania x reader #alucard x you #ruiniel:fanfiction #finally finished another ask #castlevania imagine #adrian tepes x you #castlevania x you #second person POV

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heraldofcrow · 4 months

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Every day I wake up, check tumblr, and witness the many different types of fandoms on my dash.

They include:

World Ship War III

Mean Girls But With Grown Adults

They Jus’ Vibin’

Cat Fans

Cat Fans (except the cat is a fictional mass murderer <;3)

Half This Fandom is On a Discord Server

Marine Biologists

Witchcore Aesthetic Goth Vampcore Cottage Moodboard Flowergarden Fairycore Whimsigoth Anti-Colonialism Activists

Smol Fandom is so Tiny and Hopeful

Old School Nerds

Gay Gay Homosexual Gay

Everything Is Yuri If You’re Not a Coward

We Really Fucking Like Birds

Mini Figure Bros

Council of Tolkien

Council of Martin

Council of IRL History

Vampires vs Werewolves

The Thirsty People

That Cannibal is Hot

Cannibalism is Hot

Dracula

That Pukicho Creature

Neil Gaiman’s Funhouse Extravaganza

We Like Creatures In a Not-Normal Way

Weird Obscure Surreal Video Games

Everything Leads Back to Silent Hill

What the Fuck Kinda Manga is This

Baldur Is Gay For the Third Time

Neon Genesis Evangelion

Guilt-Trip Political Commentators

Terrified Political Commentators

Sincere Political Commentators

80s Goth Music Fans

We Have Been Having the Same Arguments For 27.5 Years

Slavs

#did i miss anything #ajshss #i wake up to 99+ notifications on my dash every fucking day and it’s amazing #keep it up freaks #tumblr stuff #tumblr #fandom nonsense #silly post #CrowNotes

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theivorybilledwoodpecker · 5 months

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Idea: A Renfield/WWDITS crossover and au where Renfield and Dracula encounter the Staten Island group and it becomes clear that the reason no other vampire ever showed up to help when Dracula was weak was because most vampires can't stand him.

I mean the guy has zero chill. It's not like Nadja, Lazslo, Nandor, and Colin are opposed to the occassional blood binge, but that thing with the support group? Not cool.

Drac's notorious for doing stuff like the whole plot of Dracula, and for what? To torment a solicitor? Whenever he pulls this shit, it becomes harder for the vampires who just want to live.

The Guide, in particular, hates him because the number of times he's been before the Vampiric Council has caused so much paperwork.

The Baron, who's older than Dracula, sees him as the equivalenr of Justin Bieber. This young, upstart vampire who think he's the devil's gift to vampiric kind.

Nadja, Nandor, Colin, and Laszlo don't know him personally, but they've been chased out of enough towns because Dracula decided to hunt and psychologically torture the wrong group. So they see him as a prat...until he attacks Guillermo, and then it's all out war.

Meanwhile, Guillermo is cool and calm. He can take Dracula, and as he smugly states, "I live here. You are a guest. They like me more than they like most vampires. I made it into the family portrait. You don't even qualify as their friend."

#what we do in the shadows #Dracula #renfield 2023

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villainsimpqueen · 3 months

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Enternal bloodlines

Adrian tepes/ alucard x Male Dhampire reader

Also available on A03.

This fanfiction is for 18+ Audiences as it does have gorey themes and later on smutty themes.

Chapter 1

The sea waves were softer than they had been in weeks. As he commands his ship across the ocean to arrive at the king's call. Godbrand thought of the recent news that had so many other General's furious.

The king, Dracula himself, was marrying a Human woman.

Dracula called on his council to not only meet his wife but their so appointed Queen. From what he had heard or gathered through stops and gathering supplies or feasting on the local villages of livestock, Many General's had refused even going as far to pull away their support wanting to be separated from the king. Apparently it hadn't ended well for them.

For Bastards to be around for so long, it was surprising to find out that this was the line they were willing to go against the old man.

It was almost amusing to the Viking General, They spent the past few centuries ignoring or shutting him down when he did try to speak at the meetings. Calling his point of views on their tactics or other things scribblings of a child, simply because he was the youngest among them.

fifth youngest.

He had to remind himself as he moved to turn to the front of his ship.

There were those newerlings that had taken over Styria. When the call from the king came the new vampiresses sent the king's wife fine garments, jewelry and gowns. With their apologies for needing to decline the call due to the shift of power in the frozen land they strived in.

It was granted seeing as the King had called for the old vampire ruler of those lands and that the newlings taking over had not seemed disrespectful.

While it was a disappointment in not getting to see the newlings in the council, Godbrand wasn't going to the king's castle for them.

He was going to see if it was true.

That the king of Vampires was really serious about marrying a human pet. To make a human pet his bride and Queen over all vampires.

To see if the King had finally gone mad like the other Generals who pulled away and had disappeared surely by being killed for going against the old man himself.

That's what separates Godbrand from the others, He didn't do the whole he said thing. He didn't like the wild spread of rumors that could easily be changed and fit to one's agenda. He prefers going straight to the source himself.

So that was what he was doing when his ship ported in Wallachia. Traveled through the land to the Kings Castle to attend this meeting of vampires and to see the Human who took the Old man's stone cold heart for her own.

Lisa Of Lupu.

A Human woman in a small room full of vampires centuries old and older who saw her as nothing but livestock and a pet of the king they believed had lost his mind.

And yet her resolve was unwavering, her eyes never looked away from the generals eyes, If she had any hint of fear she never showed it. If any of the vampires in the council room had intemendated her, they would never know for how she held her head high beside the King. It was something Godbrand could respect, he supposed the woman had a pretty face but other than that he saw nothing special of her. He didn't see what Dracula saw in her and he didn't have any strive to find out.

The meeting went as about what could be expected, The king announced that Lisa was his wife and that she was to be respected as the Queen. What had surprised him was how the woman seemed to reject such notions only claiming she was his wife nothing more.

A notion that surely irked some of the Vampiresses in the room, for this little human pet was being given such a powerful role that she didn't even understand it. Or perhaps she did.

Godbrand didn't care much about it as they went over discussions of Territories and the livestocks current little wars.

So much delicious blood being wasted by their wars over nonsense.

The General's disgusting ways to turn the wars into the vampires favors once more, the typical goals.

The viking general wondered how the human pet was taking their conversations. Seeing how her husband and his men thought about her own kind. Using them for their own gains and if she had any rejections or hatred she did not show it, her displeasure or perhaps empathy for the humans suffering in the wars, but other than that nothing. Her hand kept moving to rest on her stomach, seeming to absentmindedly do such actions.

Such actions that kept him silent during the meeting, an unusuality for him and didn't go unnoticeable from the king.

When the meeting was adjourned and the other generals left, Godbrand moved, finishing the last of his blood in the dainty glasses the King used getting up.

"Little Godbrand, your tongue seemed to be missing this evening." The king's words called making him pause and turn to look at the old man. His dainty wife beside him, her blue eyes seeming to fall on him as well hands on her stomach once more.

Perhaps he had stared too much at them.

"You are more observant than I had thought." The old man mused.

"So she is then?" He spoke, watching his words carefully, he knew well that the king had a peculiar way of handling those who had offended him and Godbrand hadn't seen all that the ocean had to offer nor fancied dying so soon into his seemingly immortal life.

"What little vampire?"

The air grew more chilly than the land's winters and it was merely autumn on the trees.

"Will it live? Is it possible?"

A human having a vampire's child, that was something He had never thought about before, nor had thought was possible.

Sure he had his fun with harlots as much as he pleased, and there were chances of vampires conceiving but the chances were so thin that heirs were chosen by Vampires turning a hand pick disciple.

But a child born of human and vampire blood? What could such a creature even survive? Then again, He doubted the king would go so far out of the way that it was unnecessary to bring the pet he decided to marry pain ... .Or maybe he would, perhaps the king was more cruel than ever.

"We believe it is possible. So far I've been careful." The woman spoke, her voice was soft as she rubbed her stomach that showed no real sign of life in her womb.

Godbrand took that information with a silent nod as he moved to leave, the king seemed to allow him to as well.

The young Vampire found himself thinking back to that meeting, that fleeting moment he was given alone with the King and his mortal bride. He was unsure about his thoughts as he watched his men tear through a village he planned on taking over. Watching humans scream and run as his men tode through their limbs and necks. Blood staining snow as it rushed along the village proximity in small rivers.

The next meeting he had attended the King's pet was nowhere to be seen and the King's patience seemed slim as thin ice.

He had later found the woman when he walked through the castle's Halls to live, hearing her in a room which had the small beginning of childrens things. She was crying those clear crystalline tears when her head snapped towards him.

"It didn't make it." Was all she offered him, making the Viking silent.

He had never needed to give condolences in many many years and so he held his tongue as he watched the human move down a small blanket to her lap.

He left the human pet to her mourning.

He fed from a man who had some sort of bravery to attack him as he watched other human bodies be torn through like ancient parchment.

Men and women torn and scattered in the snow, children either sharing same fates or sobbing clinging to their dead mothers sides as they watched the horrors of masters of the night feast among their friends and families before there flight sensory came to them making them gallop through the snow like herds of deer fleeing from a forest fire.

A sound by a nearby cabin caught his ears as he moved towards it, his eyes landing on a young woman holding onto a dead human man, her eyes staring up at him wide and streaming crystalline tears.

She was merely several years from her beginning years of womanhood, possibly her early twenties and she did seem to have the hips to survive pushing a child out.

Godbran moved towards her watching the human scramble away fear filling the air from her.

"I'll give you a choice lass. You can die tonight like the others, or you can try baring a little lad for me and be let go to live with the rest of the livestock as soon as he walks."

She had chosen the later option and she had followed behind him silently to his ship.

through the massacre of her village and burning home to be a vampire's breeder.

The human woman he had taken did better on land than sea and so he had to live with her in the safety of his lands, where his men's women could watch her closely and aid when it came to the excitements of childbirth.

Many of them were not sure why his sudden interest in such things but they did not question him. He was the chieftain and he provided his clan with as much blood and human pets as they desired. Why would they stay too focused on his current interest, even dare to question them.

His little mother had lost many, barely making it a few months from when she would stop her monthly bleed mother nature's way of showing she was with child. Each time she mourned over them, whether it was because her freedom slipped away or she actually had mother instincts to them. Godbrand was only interested in what she had changed, what she ate differently? Did she over exert herself? Did she move around too little, coddling the pregnancy too much for a hellspawns liking?

Or was such a possibility of a Human and Vampire sharing blood in the form of a child even possible to begin with?

During most of the human womens miscarriages Godbrand had heard rumors through the sea winds that Dracula's little wife was having such problems as well.

Yet they were still trying to create such an impossibility. It seems like He too was trying as well, only to see if such a creature could be born and what conditions were needed for it to happen.

After a solid two years his little mother to bear his hellspawned had passed the few months range. Her body even started to change and show his seed taking sprout.

There was curious excitement in his clan, or more so curiosity. Everyone in his clan was interested to see his human give birth to his hellspawn. The pregnancy seemed to be going smoother than the others and his little mothers diet was steady on freshly killed lamb. The spring seemed to be a better time than the following seasons.

But despite how well the human pregnancy went with his undeadish offspring it had ended with her giving birth to a quite dead thing. Simply born way too early and deformed and as Godbrand inspected the thing that came from his human pet, she had sobbed for it.

"Please…Please let me hold them." She had sobbed in her blood soaked sheets.

He didn't.

He carried the dead little thing wrapped in a ripped sheet, the womans shrieks piercing his ears as he left the Hut that she stayed in.

It had fangs.

It was blue like a corpse and just wrong in all sorts of ways.

But, this one had come so much further than the others.

Godbrand had stood over the sea looking down from the cliffs of his village as he dropped the blanket and the dead little thing to it, watching its waves devour what could have been.

He would let his little mother rest before he would fill her womb once again to have her cook another hellish spawn.

The next Seven were born similarly or simply unfit to live. The second, third and fourth were born way too soon, leading him to question the reasoning and the sudden change of his little mothers health. She seemed weaker and tended to pass out more and more even if she barely moved around.

By The Fifth, Things had shifted. A steady supply of blood added to his pets diet had led her to being able to carry the hellish thing to labor.

But it didn't live any longer than a mere few hours. It didn't even bother to respond to any method of his pet trying to care for it.

Seemingly dying out of spite for its birth.

The sixth shared a similar birth and death as its fifth sibling.

The seventh had been born wrong, nearly bringing his human pet to her death as well as it tore its way in her body, to tangle itself in the womb and be born strangled by her umbilical cord.

You were the eighth.

Born almost similarly to the seventh.

But you had fallen out of your human mother when the nursing woman had her stand up and squat, learning from the last one well, and had dangled by your neck just above the floor before you were scooped up and wrapped into a blanket. You did not scream or cry and they believed you too had been born wrong like the others. You were taken out of the room from your crying mother and brough just outside to your father. Godbrand had taken you in his arms, carrying you to the cliffs that overlooked the sea.

He had you outstretched over the ledge and was about to release you and have you return to the hells you were sent from until the wind had faintly carried the faintest of gurgles from your throat to his sharp ears.

The Viking general had pulled your hanging blanket from the clift and nack to his chest opening the covering to see your pale and blue tinted flesh resembling a corpse and yet your face turning in hues of purples, your chest convoluted here and there and bubbles leaving your tiny mouth.

His eyes narrowed on the cord still wrapped so tightly around your neck before taking a claw slicing through it with ease, the flesh falling away from your neck and your chest heaved with air.

A small hellish pitch wailed over the cliffs at the sea and it echoed through his village as he carried you back to the hut his pet, your mother stayed in.

You were given back to your human mother who had weeped holding you tightly to her chest rushing to feed you.

And fed you did, with a mixture of your mothers blood and Milk from her bosoms.

You had survived the night and seemed to be eager to continue to live your strange blooded life. You grew faster than human children, by four months you were already the size of a year old and were starting to stand and take first steps.

Already recognizing him as your father despite his distance from you traveling back and forth to Wallachia for the king's call of his council and back to the land that was your home.

He was coming back from Wallachia this time with Gifts to the old man and his wife, well made fur blankets to keep the king's pet warm during the winter months in Wallachia and a small flock of sheep expecting to birth lambs. He had joked obnoxiously like was expected of him, about how Lamb's blood is sweeter when freshly born and he left it to that. It was to the old man if caught onto the hidden hint at aiding his human bride's current pregnancy.

The village was eager to greet their chieftain and sailors as they unloaded his current ship of loot from several human villages in nearbying lands they pillaged. Dragging tied humans from.the ship that would be food to them all.

An Excited shrill cooing in the crowd making him look to see your mother carrying you on her hip towards the ship. You bounced against it until she placed you down on the green grass that the moonlight gleaned from. He watched you wobbly walk over to him, a wide smile on your face despite what seemed to be a bright red rash over your face and arms.

He carelessly picked you up holding you away from him as he inspected your small body.

His eyes snapping to the human woman.

"Why is he sick." He wasn't asking and she by now knew that.

"He was playing in the river while I was washing his clothes. The rash came hours after we left it." Her frail voice spoke as she looked down docile.

His eyes moved back to you,Taking in your features. Your hair color is highlighted with his shade of red hair, your eyes of your mothers unlike his. You had rounded ears like your human mother if anything you looked more human like her than vampire like him. Yet you had fangs you inherited from him.

You could and did go into moving water and had not disintegrated on immediate touch Another little discovery he learnt with your existence.

Half breeds like yourself could go into the sun without suffering too much at all.

You could go into moving water, something that could kill him. A death he risked everytime he took a step on his ships.

He wondered if the King and his human pet child would be able to do the same things as you, his half breed son could.

Or would their child have different abilities?

He carried you to a captured human and he snatched the human by their neck ripping it open with his own fangs swallowing the chunk of flesh before moving you to the gushing throat.

When it was time to feed, that's when he got to see himself in you. How your eyes would glow in bloodlust, fangs growing ever so slightly longer and your nails would sharpen to claws. You would feast as ravenously as he did and he watched you feast without any remorse, a grin forming over his lips, his bloody fangs glinting in the moonlight.

"Atta lad, Gotta get ya grown to ya can aboard the ships too my boy. And when ya pillage your first village, then i'll name ya boy."

He said with his wide grin watching you guzzle down the rushing blood of the dying human.

He would not speak of your existence to any of the generals and not to the king and his human let if they could not succeed in having a half breed child like he did.

His curiosity from if such a creature like you were possible now Satisfied. He could have killed you now and be done, but as he watches you pull your small head away covered in blood looking like a small reflection of himself. He couldn't.

You were His blood.

A continuation of his bloodline.

And despite you being purposely born a half breed and would be looked down upon like the livestock you fed from.

You were His son, and Godbrand would make you into a fearsome Viking and Vampire where the other vampires in neighboring lands will doubt if you ever had an ounce of human in you.

chp 2

#castlevania fanfiction #Adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes #castlevania x reader #18+ only

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ibrithir-was-here · 6 months

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Council of War

@animate-mush (and everyone else following/contributing to this AU!)

Arthur Holmwood stood with his hands pressed down hard upon the round table where he was holding cabinet; trying to look like the collected, confident, and assured leader he knew his organization needed him to be--and not the tired, battered, worn to unraveling wreck he felt like inside.

“I'm sure by now that you've all heard what happened last night”, he began, his voice low and solemn, but with an edge in it that made everyone in the room sit up straighter.

“Count Dracula himself came into the grounds and attempted to abduct young Mr. Harker. He was stopped only by--by the quick intervention of Lucille”

If the agents around the table noted the slight tremor in Arthur's voice as he recalled that particular event of the night, they wisely kept their silence.

“The Count was also followed by two more vampires who were also able to enter the grounds…Mr Harker's parents.”

This revelation did produce a faint flutter of disturbed whispering, which was instantly cut off by a firm look from Jack, seated as ever at Arthur's right hand.

“Both they and the Count managed to escape, miraculously without any casualties. And what I want to know now…” Athur said slowly, forcing himself with every inch of aristocratic decorum that had been drummed into him to keep calm --

“Is just how they all got here, where they are now, and how soon can we be ready to finally end this?”

Arthur stood straight, looking each person at the table in the eye, one by one. Each person in his organization had their reasons for being here, their own strange and often terrifying experience that brought them into his circle, that had led them to believe him and Jack in their warnings of the threats that lurked within the shadows.

Henry Harrington, who's brother had run afoul of a truly nasty hedge magician, who'd sent something to stalk his brother's steps day and night, and which finally overtook him on a lonesome road with no help in sight.

Harrington had gotten justice on the fiend, and had gladly joined their ranks when they'd crossed paths while doing research on one of their missions, determined that no one else's loved one would suffer a similar fate.

There was young Ben Edwards, who'd somehow caught the eye of a vampire-witch at the age of 16, and been stalked by her in dreams until only a few years ago, when she'd finally tried to sink her teeth into him upon the unfortunate occurrence of him being put up for the night in her old tower room.

He'd escaped with his life and soul, been desperate for answers, stumbled onto Arthur's organization, and eagerly joined up.

And Alwyne Hargreaves…she'd also found them, trying to make sense of the strange memories she had of being carried off by ‘A Bloofer Lady’.

Arthur had been sick all day after their first interview, and Jack was not much better.

Her experience had apparently rendered her sensitive to all manner of strange phenomena, and she and her employer (and later husband) had made a good business out of clearing out houses reputed--and often proved-- to be haunted, so that they could finally be put on market.

Though her abilities often drained her, she was more than willing to put them to use to help keep her country safe. In truth, with her cheerful cleverness, she reminded him of what Mina might have been, had they all been luckier.

And, of course, dear, unstoppable Kate Reed, Lucy's old friend. Mina and Jonathan's old friend.

Their first recruit.

She’d tracked him and Jack down after it had all gone wrong, demanding to know what had become of her friends, what he and Jack had done to them.

Kate had dogged their steps until finally, she'd found them facing down the last of the Count's victims, had seen what the no-longer-a-woman had done to her staff--to Lu's mother--and she'd had learned just what had happened to Lucy and Mina and Jonathan. And she'd vowed to fight them ever since.

The people seated here at this table were his top agents, the ones he knew he could always count on in crisis, who had proved themselves time and time again, each time the threat of a vampire had reared its fangs, weather in town or country or seaside, they had risen to thrust it back down into the earth where it belonged.

And none of them, it seems, had managed to see the devil coming until he--they, were at the door.

There was a moment of weighted silence, each person at the table going over Arthur's questions.

“As to how the Count got passed us, I'm sorry Art, I just don't know”, Kate said with quite calm, a calmness that Arthur knew well enough was hiding her own unease and frustration that after all their preparation and prior successes they'd still all been taken so unprepared.

Kate Reed wasn't a woman who brooked failure well, especially her own.

“But as to the Harkers…you told me that before you and Jack went off with the rest to try and stop Dracula that you performed a-a burial service for Mina, correct? And since she was not in fact laid in any one resting place…it's possible that anywhere in England could count as hallowed ground for her to rest in. It's all her native soil.”

Kate paused, looking at Arthur and then away before going on.

“And Jonathan…Jonathan's home was always wherever she was…That could explain how she and Jonathan have been able to seemingly move about unimpeded, without us getting any wind of a vampire's nest being set up anywhere near.”

“Yes…that's a plausible explanation.” was his terse reply.

Arthur knew he needed to be calmer, less brittle. He'd already broken down last night with Lu, when she'd offered her blood up to the boy. It had brought back far too many memories of similar, ultimately useless gestures done by himself and Art and Quincey's namesake.

It seems he was destined to keep being reminded of the futility of all his grand gestures.

He wished he could just crawl into bed with Jack, Lu still small enough to tuck between the two of them and wake to find the last few months nothing but a terrible lingering dream.

While he was at it, he might as well wish to wake from the last 21 years.

But he didn't have the luxury of wallowing, none of them did.

“Is it possible that the Count, by dint of having fed on Mr. Harker so long and so singularly, could have had something of that connection transferred to him?”

Harrington asked, brows furrowed in concentration, no doubt thinking over his eclectic knowledge of the arcane, built up from the many old tomes they'd confiscated and stored away for safekeeping.

“After all, we've seen from Edwards' case and what we read about that business in Styria that a vampire can establish a psychic link with a victim if they share blood that can persist through time and space without the victim necessarily being turned by the exposure. But the link can draw the victim to the vampire, and the vampire to them”

“Couldn't we extrapolate out from that? The blood shared needn't necessarily be familial, it could, well, actually be shared.”

“Oh!” Alwyn jumped in, the light of discovery coming into her eyes at the prospect of a new puzzle to solve.

“And the longer it's shared the stronger the psychic and physical link! Through the physical blood! So that the Harkers, being bound already, and Dracula, bound to them by sharing blood, and both concentrating on the same goal of reaching our young guest, have been, so to speak, drawing each other along?

He wants to reach Quincey, he knows they'll follow if he does, and so uses their own determination to head him off to follow in their wake, as it were?

Because they can walk here, The Count can walk here, and because Quincey is already here--”

Jack interrupted this spiraling metaphysical explanation by tapping at the table to gain everyone's attention--and drawing it away from thoughts of Quincey, Arthur noted, unsure of his own feelings on that point.

Arthur hadn’t wanted to throw the boy to the Count, and he’d agreed, reluctantly, to let Lu…provide for him. Quincey had been nothing but polite and courteous since the day he’d walked into Arthur’s study— and in doing so dug up the most painful parts of his past to literally haunt him once more.

He didn't see how trying to shield the boy from his role as lynchpin in this whole mess helped anything.

Except, perhaps, to spare the boy what little innocence they had not already shattered by revealing the truth of his existence to him. Jack had told him of the…conversation he and Quincey had after Arthur had given him the saved documents to read over.

He’d never wanted to drive the boy to those extremes.

He just wanted his own family to be safe.

And now Jack had gone and declared Quincey part of it.

And Arthur didn’t know what to do.

* There's certainly something there I think,* Jack was saying, each person seated having learned his signs by now *But it's something we'll need to look into more at a later date, I think the more pressing matter now is finding where they're all sleeping during the day*

“Well if they've all of England left open to them, that could be anywhere!”

Edwards said with a shudder, lacing his fingers together tightly as if it would help keep his thoughts steady under the weight of free roaming vampires.

“It's a miracle they seem to have at least been kept out of the house proper, that protection doesn't seem to have been overcome by whatever psychical link or blood bond might be going on.”

“True, we'll need to be extra vigilant to ensure nothing could be possibly said to invite any unknown factors in.” Arthur said, going over the conversations he'd had and overheard between everyone last night, trying to assure himself nothing had been said then, in the heat of everything.

None of the vampires had been able to enter the house physically. Even if they had apparently manifested themselves to both Quincey and Lu through dreams.

He clenched his fists at the thought of the vampire that had replaced Mina Harker rummaging around in his daughter's head, extracting promises that fed off Lu's far too big heart and could only ever lead her into greater danger.

But no, whatever else might be going on, the rule of Invitation still held, and at least did not seem to extend to relations in Quincey's case. His unwitting invitation did not grant his parents nor the Count access to Arthur's physical threshold, if not his grounds.

This mercy, at least, seemed to be granted to them.

Not that they didn't need to still worry about whatever “blood bonds” might be in play.

Dracula had entered Quincey's dreams, played mind games with him, and had eventually been able to draw him out to where he'd been vulnerable to the Count's physical attack via his mental ones.

And Arthur knew it was only a matter of time before he tried again.

The devil was determined to drag the boy back to hell with him, whether it was due to some darker plans, where he wished to use the boy's unique existence to further spread the Count's misery, or to further torment his parents, or simply out of spite for having his ‘property’ dare to disobey him--none of that mattered.

Whatever Arthur felt personally about any of the Harkers, he wasn't about to let Count Dracula have anything he wanted ever again.

“Our main objective should be finding the Count.” Alwyn said, echoing Arthur's own thoughts. He wondered if her sensitivity wasn't picking up his roiling feelings and tried once more to sink into aristocratic composure.

“If Mr. Harrington's theory is true, it's likely he and the Harkers are all in close proximity anyway, whether he likes it or not.”

* What do you mean?* Jack asked.

“Well, If his ability to walk England freely is siphoned off them, well that blood bond will have been getting weaker by the day since Mr Harker senior…isn't available anymore.”

“He may still be able to siphon from Mrs Harker, being bound by turning her, but either way he's caught in a leash that's winding tighter and tighter around a pole.”

“And besides, their wills and blood are all bound together, his reason being here is the whole reason they're here as well as. He's the reason that any of this--” She waved her hand about the table and out towards the estate in general, “--Even exists. If we can find him, finally end him once and for all…”

“We can finally have some peace. All of us.” Kate said softly.

“But how do we track him?” Edwards asked, “We don't have any hard evidence for this link to the Harkers, just conjecture. You said before that Mrs. Harker used her link to track the Count, but even if we could find her first, I doubt anyone here wants to be making alliances with a vampire, even if they are temporarily aligned against a greater threat.”

“ No. ” Arthur said bluntly. “That most certainly won't be happening.”

The group sat in silence, each lost in their own doubts and conjectures as to what they should do.

“...The boy could do it”, Harrington said finally, looking grim, but certain of his proposal.

“He's linked to his parents, by blood and bond. And last night he bit the Count, tasted some of his blood, or what passes for it. Everything you’ve told us and we’ve learned points to him being by far our best bet for tracking any of them down.”

Arthur saw Jack's face blanch, causing the bit of scar that peaked above his high collar and through his beard to stand out like it was still fresh, and he rapidly began to sign:

* No . That's putting him directly in Dracula's sights. Besides, all else aside we can't possibly ask him to turn over his parents--*

“Dracula must be stopped .” Arthur said, and his tone instantly made each person sit up straighter.

“I don't wish to put anyone in any undue danger but--”

“I'll do it.”

Each head whirled around at the declaration, to see Quincey Harker standing framed in the doorway.

The door they had locked before coming in, which none of them had even heard open.

“Just how did you get in here??” Arthur asked, wondering what new vampiric power he was going to have to produce a counter for given this intrusion.

Quincey for his part ducked his head sheepish and fished something out of his pocket, holding it up towards the group.

“Lu slipped me the key this morning before she fell asleep and told me to go listen.”

Of course.

“Mr. Harker,” Edwards said slowly, speaking as if to a skittish hound, "Do you understand just what it is we're asking you to do? The danger it will bring on your head?”

Quincey's gaze dropped to the floor, and one of his hands moved to the wrist of the other, rubbing softly at clear skin that had only a few hours ago been mottled black and blue.

“I believe danger has already come to me sir, and to all of you because of me.”

“ I know you said you wouldn’t send me out as a scapegoat. But I-I wish to help. I couldn’t…I couldn’t call myself a good man if I didn’t do my own part to stop Fa…The Count. You’re right, Lord Godalming, he must be stopped, he deserves to be stopped.”

The boy stopped, swallowed hard, before continuing, hands clenching and unclenching.

“He threatened Lu, he tried to hurt her and… he-he hurt Mama and Papa…he’s been hurting them for a very long time…”

He raised his head and looked Arthur steadily in the eye, his own dark red ones alight with hardened determination.

“I’ll help you to find him, so that you can stop him from hurting anyone else. But…”

“But?” Arthur echoed, raising an eyebrow.

“But…I would ask, that—that you don’t harm my parents.”

“…And if your parents try to harm any of us?”

Quincey looked as if he was about to object, to say that they never would do such a thing, but stopped, swallowed again, and said quietly, “You of course should be able to defend yourselves…but please, don’t hurt them if you possibly can.”

Arthur’s nails dug into the palms of his hands, memories of white snow awash with red blood threatening to rise up and undo the little calm he’d held onto this whole meeting. The faces of Jack and Dr Van Helsing and his own Quincey flashed across his mind, one by one. All the men this boy was named for, all the men his father had cut down like nothing.

Didn’t he owe the dead and damaged vengeance for what they’d lost?

….Would vengeance bring any of it back?

At last, he managed to grit out;

“I promise, that no harm will come to your parents, so long as they pose no harm to anyone else. That’s the best I can do. Does everyone agree?”

There was a faint murmur of assent from the group, with a nod from Jack. Arthur nodded back, before turning once more to Quincey, and there was steel in his voice as he said;

“And you must promise me something in return, Harker.”

“Yes sir?”

“You say you love my daughter, you want to undertake this mission so that you can protect her?”

The boy blushed deeply, and Arthur had the bizarre realization he was blushing with Lu’s own blood, her gift to him coursing through his veins.

“Oh yes sir! I’d do anything for her.”

Arthur nodded, his blue eyes narrowing as he locked them on Quincey’s red ones.

“Then you promise me, that when it comes down to it, no matter what happens going forward, that you will do anything for her. You choose her , you understand? You do whatever it takes to keep her safe and whole and alive.”

He wanted to say: “If she’s so damn willing to walk into hell for you, it only seems right you live up to your family legacy and follow after her. If your father was willing to slaughter all the other people who he cared for to save the woman they’d failed to, the least you can do is the same. She must be the priority, no one else, no matter whom, no matter the bond. ‘ Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife and they shall be one flesh’ and all that.”

Of course, given the boy’s reaction to seeing a crucifix for the first time, Arthur doubted he’d ever so much as seen a Bible, let alone read one to recognize the verse. Remembering the crucifix, Arthur made a point to tell the young vampire to start wearing it. Heaven knows the boy could stand to have some extra protection going forward. They all could.

But back to the matter at hand.

“Do you understand what I mean when I say ‘you choose her’?”

Quincey’s face paled slightly, Lu’s blood rushing back to hide within his barely beating heart. But at last he whispered.

“Yes sir…I do…And I promise”

Arthur nodded, satisfied. The boy had never lied, Arthur wasn’t sure he even knew how.

“Good. Well you may as well go back and see if Lu’s awake and have her come in on all this properly. I’m sure she already told you to report back everything you heard anyway.”

A small smile crossed Quincey’s face, and from his other pocket, he pulled a small notebook and a bit of pencil.

“I took notes”

Of course he did. If there was anything else one could mark as an hereditary trait of the Harkers, they were wonderful for taking notes, no matter the circumstances. If they all managed to live through this, maybe Arthur would finally see about getting the boy his inheritance in the solicitors firm. It was probably time it moved on from being a front for the organization to getting used for actual real estate opportunities, with property taxes going up and all.

“Alright then, go and get her. And then, we’ll get to work”

I have to give credit to @see-arcane on tumblr for the line “he’s been hurting them for a long time” as it came from their own divergent Blood of My Blood fic which ripped my heart out and can be found here

Also the people at Arthur's round table are all from actual ghost/spooky stories of the time!

Alwyne Hargreaves nee Sargent is from Allen Upward's "The Ghost Hunters" series

Ben Edwards is the hithertoo unnamed narrator or E. F. Benson's "The Room in the Tower"

Henry Harrington is a character from M.R. James' excellent "Casting the Runes"

(All of which I would highly recommed listening to for free at the links provided)

And Kate Reed was a cut character from the original Dracula novel, a friend of Mina and Lucy and Jonathan's from school.

#blood of my blood #dracula #arthur holmwood #quincey morris #jack seward #lu holmwood #casting the runes #mr james #ef benson #the room in the tower #allen upward #the ghost hunters #victorian horror #edwardian horror #ghost stories #vampires #dracula fanfiction #re dracula #dracula daily

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beevean · 5 months

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Some ideas on how I'd personally write Lenore. for future reference?

We keep the trait that she's the black sheep of the sisters, who don't take her and her job seriously. Maybe they don't even speak to her often, judging by Striga's ill-fitting jab about her supposed "romantic" nature. Perhaps we could see her act in different ways, tougher in the council and softer with Hector. This establishes her as a seasoned liar: we never know if she's sincere or not.

Unlike Hector, who seemed to be blissfully unaware of how much Dracula and Isaac looked down on him, Lenore is more than aware of being seen as "weird" and "weak". However, she prides herself on being needed, as a balance for the others.

We also keep that she is "compassionate" towards animals (and humans), and that she has experienced war as a child, which left her with a desire to be a benevolent ruler.

tl;dr: she is superficially kind, but has no empathy, and her priority is the council's wellbeing and desires. She and Hector share this trait of very misguided, ultimately selfish mercy. He needs love, she needs to feel good about herself.

We emphasize the implication that she clings on her humanity. She's shown eating food despite not needing it (maybe she feels ill?), she insists on the importance of diplomacy and how violence and conquest should be last resorts, and she seems fascinated by human culture, in the same way Hector is fascinated by vampire culture. However, she also comes off as condescending - think Rose Quartz when flirting with Greg.

(bonus: she struggles with her vampiric instincts. Show her resisting the temptation to bite Hector, not wanting to frighten him. Show her resisting the dark thoughts that he's nothing but meat to devour and a warm body to fuck.)

Hector falls for her diplomacy because she is (seems) genuinely kind. She's apologetic for his conditions, she seems really eager to help him as much as she can. She's not smug at all, although she points out the holes in Dracula's logic and tries her best to paint Carmilla as a better mistress. No pet play. When Hector attacks her, she does her stunt of leaving him alone for a week then acting scared around him, to make him feel guilty and dependant on her. In short: her manipulation is more emotional, and it hits Hector's weak spot, his need to be loved.

No rape. They never have sex. Lenore slips that ring as they're talking, and Hector accepts of his own volition to be loyal to her. He still feels betrayed, though, as that act confirms he'd been played again and Lenore is no different than Carmilla. Even worse if Lenore goes to gloat about her victory to the sisters in that "cruel vampire" way, bonus if we keep the "the real people are talking" line. She apologizes for speaking about him so rudely in private, but at that point he refuses to listen to her.

Their interactions at the beginning of S4 are awkward. Lenore tries to be friendly and even jokey (not in that childish "penis jokes" way), but Hector acts exaggeratedly professional, calls her "mistress" and is clear that he's full of resentment. Lenore is frustrated and asks what more does he want. Hector refuses to answer. No more will he shown weakness. Bonus if he makes a cruel joke asking when she's going to fuck him, since clearly he's nothing more than a toy. (to be fair, being the only man in the clutches of predatory women could put some fears in his mind... especially if he was abused as a child.)

Lenore's love language is being clingy and possessive. She won't leave Hector alone. She genuinely thinks that tying someone to you is showing care for that someone, much like Carmilla did. She's growing fond of Hector, his wit and his knowledge on black magic, and she doesn't understand why her affection isn't reciprocated. She's treating him well, isn't she? Why is he so moody?

We keep Lenore's fears about growing useless in Carmilla's big, insane scheme. Finally, she opens up about her worries to Hector, and this is what makes him warm up to her. He understands that she only acted out of loyalty, but now they're in a similar position: he understands, on his own, that it's no so different from his position as the unfavorite in Dracula's court. It's not enough to become friends, but the two now can at least be civil towards each other. They're the first to do so. Maybe Hector opens up himself about his past and how he now feels about Dracula.

When Isaac attacks the castle (Hector did not participate in that stupid plan to revive Dracula), Hector and Lenore decide to go stop Carmilla together. However, Lenore still wants to reason with her. Hector wants to kill her 🙂 he and Isaac do so. Whether Carmilla kills herself or not is honestly irrelevant at this point, but she's dead and Lenore, once again, feels powerless. Hector cutting his own finger hurts her even more: she wants to see it as him gaining the freedom he deserves, but her vampiric instincts tell her that it's him refusing to be with her.

When she effectively becomes Isaac's captive, she starts to understand why Hector never grew fond of her; she could never love that bastard who stole her home and destroyed her existence. She's horrified at the realization. She knew that she had to hurt Hector to give the sisters what they asked of her, but she understands that not only it was worse than she imagined... it was all for nothing. They never cared about her. She starts to wonder if she could ever be a good person.

The suicide scene is kept, but it's clear that it's because Lenore feels terrible about herself and her own nature, nothing about not wanting to be in a cage since in theory she could just wait for Isaac to die. When she suns herself, she dies horrifically just like Dracula did - behind her prettiness and good intentions, she really was nothing but a vampire at her core.

bonus: Hector, who has learned to appreciate his own humanity more, decides to travel and meet more people, so that he won't resort to beg for scraps of kindness anymore.

#lenore thoughts #not anti nfcv but close enough #but i don't feel comfortable tagging her character

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anothermoirafan · 4 months

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more war council hc bc they deserve it

no.1. they all had bad lives as humans, except dragoslav. carmilla was sold off and abused as a bride to a misogynistic husband, raman was a slave to an old man, sharma was working in the court since a young age beacuse his family fidn't have enough money so he was on his legs financially since like 6yrs old. zufall was a commander to a stuck up king who led wars with no sense. hell everybody knows dracula lost two wives. godbrand was insane but thats just the child abuse kicking in and staying. and dragoslav? he just liked the idea of night since he had too sensitive skin for the sun.

like the generals will talk shit abt humanity for 5hrs straight no pause all at the same time and zufall will say something like "its better for them to not even have children anymore" and dragoslav will be like what the fuck man? my mom had 10 kids and it was super fun. and all the generals will be like what. and hell continue completley seriously like "yeah there were 10 of us and sure most didnt survive to adulthood but like the games were fun."

and he is no longer invited to venting nights. which is a shame since he brought the alcohol.

#castlevania carmilla #castlevania cho #castlevania dragoslav #castlevania raman #castlevania sharma #castlevania zufall #castlevania godbrand #castlevania hector

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xblubotx · 6 months

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Merry Christmas Adams!!!

I have been trying to unravel the mystery of Doctor Who in my whole life strange way, by watching the old series. But only the ones the interested me. While they aren’t the most exciting, it’s been fun trying to piece all of it together.

I like how the second Doctor is literally a Beatle. He has the haircut and plays a…I can’t remember the name but it is basically a special flute. In the 10th anniversary special, he complains about losing it and the third Doctor says he’ll get him a new one. Later, he finds it but has to use it to stop Omega. Something interesting is that the second Doctor was sentenced to Earth in exile by the high council, leading the way for his new form.

The third Doctor has his own charm. He’s got this Dracula looking get up (which he later changes) and drives around in a yellow car. Apparently the car is the reason why he stayed, but had to get a new own because he stole the first one. A small little detail I don’t know people point out, but when the Doctor gets out of the shower, he has a snake tattoo on his right arm. So metal! In the 10th anniversary special, after defeating Omega, the Doctor is sent something as a sign of forgiveness from the Council, meaning he is no longer in exile. Also one more detail, the Doctor says his name is John Smith. I don’t know if this just for the third Doctor or it’s his actual name but it’s interesting.

All of this seems like it doesn’t matter for the new series, but considering he’s the last Time Lord, and there are other Time Lords present in the classic series, it makes me wonder if the war was something shown in the mysteries 1996 middle era. I call it the middle era, because people don’t say it’s part of the 2005 new series. The way people section this series is weird as hell. I like to have a timeline of when things came out just helps me understand reality better.

That’s about it for now. I do have a tendency to spoil myself on things but personally it doesn’t bother me. Especially if it’s not much given to me and I have to see for myself. It just adds to my curiosity in a way. And for something as long running as Doctor Who, I probably won’t be able to watch it all. At this point, I might as well watch the new series. I just want to give some appreciation for the old series.

#doctor who #classic who

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autumnmobile12 · 1 year

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This is an interesting and really vague line, and it’s unfortunate Zamfir’s arc is probably the most rushed subplot in the series. (I mean, I didn’t really care for what Sumi and Taka had going on, but at least they got a brief flashback explaining their motives.)

So let’s dive into the historical context here:

Since it’s founding in 1310, Wallachia was ruled by the House of Basarab, a family that some historians believe may have migrated from Asia. Wallachia’s first ruler on record was Basarab the Great.

After the death of Mircea the Old in 1418, a direct descendant of Basarab the Great, the ruling family split into two factions: Mircea’s descendants through his sons known as the Drăculești and the descendants of his brother, Dan I, known as the Dănești. This split would become the defining feature of Wallachian politics for this time period. During the last years of Mircea’s reign, he named his only legitimate son Mihail as co-ruler to ease the transition of power after his death. Within three years of ruling on his own though, Mihail was overpowered by the Ottoman Empire and the boyar lords under him defected to his cousin Dan II and Wallachia broke into a civil war. Mihail was killed in the spring of 1420, after which several of his illegitimate half-brothers took up the Drăculești line’s bid for power, fighting the each other as much as Dănești faction. It’s like Game of Thrones but even more chaos and the bastards are 100% valid players in the eyes of the law and society.

Castlevania takes place in 1476, so in between this year and the year of Mihail I’s death, rule of Wallachia (the Voivodate) would change hands 24 times and see a total of 10 separate rulers, only one of whom would die of natural causes. (In comparison, England’s throne saw three different occupants in the same amount of time. Although, one of those three was a usurper and one died under mysterious circumstances of the ‘probably murder’ variety.) So Sypha coming out and guessing that Zamfir is the last of the nobles is thought-provoking in that the royal court was already a hostile place even without Dracula bearing down on the capital.

Zamfir’s psychosis may have deeper roots than what happened when Dracula attacked, and I really want to explore that further. ‘Last person of noble birth’ can have a few meanings. The Wallachian nobility were the boyar lords, whose power and influence was dependent on wealth and/or land. At court, there was the princely council who advised (or schemed against) the ruling prince, and there were also a few court positions that weren’t part of the council. More to the point, Wallachia’s society behaved the same way as most European nations did at the time: ‘You have no power for you are but a woman.’

As for the mummified corpses in the Underground Court, in the interest of loose historical accuracy, the dead prince could only be Vlad III Dracula of House Drăculești. In November of 1476, Vlad III usurped the throne from Basarab III, who had held it since 1474 after killing his predecessor Radu III (Vlad III’s younger brother, actually.) In December of that year, Basarab III returned to Wallachia and took back the throne, killing Vlad III in the process. Basarab III would live another four years. In addition, the capital of Wallachia was moved from Târgovişte to Bucharest this same year. So intentional or not on the creators’ part, the show roughly matches up with the historical timeline. There’s also the fact that it’s not entirely clear exactly how Vlad III died and there is some speculation by historians that Bram Stoker’s Dracula and the historical Dracula only share the same name and the latter was not the actual inspiration for the former.

It’s a bit of a stretch to say Vlad III Dracula and the vampire Vlad Dracula Ţepeş were intended to be two separate people in the series, so I won’t go out there and make that claim. The mummified royals are probably just nameless artifacts for the plot and we are definitely in speculation, headcanon, string and thumbtacks territory now.

Still, the ‘last person of noble birth’ line does have me wondering what Zamfir’s connection to the court is aside from ‘leader of the Târgovişte resistance.’ Daughter of a courtier, daughter of a council lord, or daughter of the ruling prince himself?

#castlevania netlix #castlevania zamfir #sypha belnades #historical context #medieval history #Medieval Wallachia #medieval romania #medieval europe was terrible #wallachia #Historical post #castlevania post #Castlevania #targoviste

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