#I want to see Alucard finally let down these stupid walls of his and let them in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

faithintheunknownsblog · 2 years

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Chapter Summary: A newbie vampire who is determined to kill every vampire with no ifs, ands, or buts about it, meets the notorious Alucard and joins the Hellsing Organization

TW: Slight gore

Master List

To Kill A Monster

Chapter 1: An Unwanted Interaction

After that day- about twenty five years ago- when Alucard was finally freed from Sir Integra’s control, he immediately got bored. He tried living like an everyday person, but that didn’t even last a week.

So he went back to the Hellsing Organization to continue his work as if he never left.

After Sir Integra passed Seras Victoria took her place, keeping the Hellsing Organization running to this day.

The world still- somehow- had vampires that needed to be killed, and that is what Alucard did.

But the nice thing about it is that he doesn’t have to listen to anyone like he had to before.

=======

“Alucard, there have been rumors of a new vampire being spotted around London.” Seras tells him.

“Ooo, fun.” Alucard smirks as his eyes show his excitement, “I will get my guns ready.”

“I want you to bring them back to me alive.” Seras ordered, she has become more mature and is stern with him ever since she has taken over. She knows she’ll never be Integra, but she tries to live up to the Hellsing name.

“Excuse me?” Alucard asks, he was confused by her odd request.

“Bring them back alive,” Seras says again. “Just trust me on this one Alucard.”

Alucard bows his head in obedience, he still has to listen to an extent.

=======

You disappear down a dark alleyway, following a tall man- a vampire- dressed in all red. “I will kill them all,” you think as you follow him with your knives ready.

Alucard senses you, but continues to let you follow him. He won’t know for sure if you’re the one he was sent out to find until he sees you. Seras sent him a message earlier with a description of what you are rumored to look like. He pulls out his phone to pretend to double check, even though he has already got it memorized.

Now that- you’re tricked into thinking- he is distracted, you take the chance to try to kill him.

Alucard turns around real quick and hits you in the face with the butt of his pistol, knocking you hard against one of the brick walls of the alleyway. “Now, now, wasn’t that stupid? What ever happened to loyalty to your own kind?”

You get up and wipe your nose that is starting to bleed, both of your knives still gripped firmly in your hands. You look at him with an eyebrow raised, “I’m not your kind.”

You attempt to cut him again but it is no use, he dodges your attack and lands a heavy hit to your back.

“So tell me why that is,” he says while you’re on the ground.

“Because blood doesn’t fuel me, it’s my will that makes me get out of bed and get rid of scum, vampire and human alike!” You dash toward him.

“I see, that must be why Seras Victoria wants me to bring you back to Hellsing.” When you get close enough Alucard puts his gun right to the middle of your forehead.

You move swiftly, side stepping and stabbing your knife straight into his side. “I won’t let you won’t take me, dead or alive.”

He sucks in air between his teeth, now he’s getting annoyed because you managed to land a hit

“Well my orders won’t let me kill you, so you’re going to have to come back alive.” He says, holding onto your throat and right before you pass out you hear him say, “I must admit, you are a rather peculiar little thing. I’m impressed with your power as well.”

=======

You wake up in a room that you assume is underground since there are no windows, the walls are made of stone, and the only way out is a singular door. One that you can’t even get to because you’re tied to a chair. You start trying to get free.

“There is no use in trying to escape, I let you live this time. But if you escape I will have no hesitation when I order Alucard to kill you.” Seras says plainly.

She is the only one who is fully visible to you, but you can see the silhouette of the vampire you tried to eliminate in the darkness behind her, to the right. You could also see the smug smile on his face.

“You’re going to kill me anyway,” you continue to struggle. “I'd rather have it happen now.”

Seras sighs, “I’m not going to kill you. Well, I’m not going to kill you unless you refuse to cooperate.”

“The fuck is that supposed to mean?” You glare daggers at her.

“I am Seras Victoria of the Hellsing Organization. We hunt down and kill vampires.” She explains.

“As I said, you’re going to kill me anyway,” you feel the ropes starting to loosen from around one of your wrists.

“I am willing to make a special exception for you.” Seras gives you a big smile.

“And why is that?!” You get one hand free and right before you can start to undo the other knot Alucard grabs your wrist. You didn’t notice him disappear from Seras’ side.

“Because you clearly are different,” Seras pauses for a moment as she thinks. “And I think the Hellsing Organization could use someone like you.”

“I don’t trust vampires,” you say as you fight to free your wrist from Alucard’s grip. “They’re evil scumbags that all deserve to rot in the deepest depths of Hell.”

Alucard condescendingly looks down at you and smirks, he enjoys your fierceness. The way you’re acting is a change of pace and truly invigorating for him. He decides to speak on Seras’ behalf, “that attitude is the exact reason why someone like you belongs here.”

“Let go you son of-“ You struggle.

“Alucard, enough.” Seras says sternly.

“Yes, as you wish Seras” Alucard lets go and bows his head for a moment.

“And why should I trust you?!” You demand.

“Have you ever heard of the Hellsing Organization before?” Seras asks plainly.

“No, because it doesn’t exist.” You reply.

“Do you see hundreds of vampires roaming the streets of London?” Seras asks again.

“No…” You say hesitantly.

“Don’t you think that there might be a secret organization that is keeping not only London, but the world safe from vampires?” Seras asks again.

You stay silent.

“What I thought,” Seras stands up and begins to leave the room. She looks over her shoulder and says, “welcome to the Hellsing Organization. You’ll start training tomorrow.”

Alucard follows Seras as she exits the room, leaving you to get out of the ropes all by yourself. Which doesn’t take long, but it was still inconvenient as Hell.

Once you’re out you put your ear up to the door and listen for the sound of footsteps to slowly dissipate. Once they do you peek your head out of the door, seeing that no one was there.

You head in the opposite direction from where you heard their footsteps heading. You cautiously look around every corner, and make sure your footsteps are unable to be heard.

=======

Seras Victoria watches you through hidden cameras that are set up all throughout the basement.

Alucard sighs in impatience and annoyance, “can I just kill her already?”

“No Alucard,” Seras says and continues to watch you. “She is quite fascinating.”

Alucard watches the screen, seeing how well you were doing only annoys him more as he sees how close you are to escaping. In aggravation he asks “Seras you can’t be serious about this? Letting her escape? What kind of game are you playing?”

Seras gives a sweet smile and says in a perky voice, “Alucard don’t worry so much! Sir Integra wouldn’t have let me keep Hellsing running if she didn’t trust me to make good decisions!”

Alucard frowns in disapproval, he is still mad at how you stabbed him and he can’t kill you because of it. He plainly says, “this is ridiculous.”

Seras studies you with pure fascination, and right as you almost escape, “Alucard, go now!”

“Finally,” Alucard swiftly leaves, excited to fight you.

“You still can’t kill her though!” Seras calls after him.

=======

You nearly made it out when Alucard comes out from a portal he made in the door. “Fuck!”

“Such a disobedient vampire,” Alucard manically chuckles and points his gun at you. It’s filled with blanks because he can’t kill you but still plans on getting you back for stabbing him. “You were given a warning, but didn’t listen.”

You turn around and run the opposite way of the exit, opposite way of him.

“I didn’t take you as the one to run away from the consequences of your actions,” Alucard aims at your back and yells out aggressively, “It’s disappointing that you won’t fight me like you did before!”

Alucard shot at you, and you ran up the side of the wall to- successfully- dodge the bullet.

“Hmph-“ Alucard got angrier and started to go after you, “-you made your death inevitable. So why run now? Fight me!”

Another shot was taken for you, but he predicted how you would try to dodge this bullet.

When you hear the click of the gun you move, you get hit by the bullet. But with how fast you are, instead of getting hit in the back you get hit in the shoulder.

“Making this more and more fun for me, little hunter.” Alucard makes the hallway go red, he wants a fight.

You slow your steps and look back, seeing Alucard releasing the dogs. You get off of the walls and back onto the floor, “alright, alright. You got me.”

“No! Fight me!” Alucard screams.

You walk towards him as he comes closer, “no, you’re right. I need to face the consequences for my actions.”

The angrier he gets the more you want to smile, you had a plan of course. Once he was close enough, you run up the walls again getting past him and dash for the door. You use your full speed, which was much faster than what you showed before.

Alucard turns around quickly and tries to grab you again but you have already kicked down the door. You thought you were going to be outside, you thought you were free. But you’re just in a big room that only exit was the door you just busted through.

But the room is filled with weapons, weapons you plan on using. You hurry up and grab a gun, you load it and start shooting.

It was no use because Alucard’s eyes just filled with more excitement. He yells in pleasure, “yes! Yes! Fight me little hunter!”

You hit him nearly each time, but the bullets just keep going straight through him. You keep reloading, but it’s no use. When he finally makes it into the room he blocks the doorway, turning the room completely red.

You think of how you could get out. You would slide out of the room from in between his legs but his legs just seemed to be gone.

“What’s the problem little hunter! Come on! Release your full potential!” Alucard was going mad, his screaming getting even louder and more aggressive. “Do it! Do it! Do-“

“That’s enough,” Seras says plainly.

Alucard looks at Seras, wanting to finish the job.

“I said that’s enough!” Seras repeats herself in a stern tone.

Alucard goes back to normal, then walks out of the door in angry silence. He’s mad because he still isn’t allowed kill you.

“You weren’t even scared! And hit him a few good times! That’s so impressive!” Seras says with a huge smile.

You throw the gun down in anger, “I have no reason to fear anything.”

“Most would think differently!” Seras keeps her peppy attitude. “Please join us! I firmly believe that you’d make a great addition to us in the Hellsing Organization!”

“Why would I join you when you just tried to have him kill me?” You frustratedly asked.

“I didn’t try to have him kill you! I actually just stopped him! But-“ Seras tone becomes normal, “if you really wish to leave we won’t keep you here.”

You walk past Seras- not caring that you bump shoulders with her- and leave the Hellsing mansion.

=======

You walk back into the city of London, and when you finally calm down- after a few too many hours- you realize that you just gave up the chance to no longer be homeless. “Shit…”

You look back over your shoulder and genuinely contemplate if you should join the Hellsing Organization.

A high pitched scream from an alleyway cuts your thoughts off, you instinctively run towards the alley. When you get to the entrance you reach for your knives… Your knives that were still at the Hellsing mansion. “F-“

A gunshot rings in your ears, and the vampire who had a girl now has a bullet hole straight to the skull. The girl immediately runs away.

You look over- and up- to see Alucard, “why are you following me?”

“So if you fucked up in any way I could give Seras Victoria a plausible reason to kill you.” Alucard says bluntly.

“You’d never get one of those, I’m not evil like you.” You sneer while looking at him in disgust.

“You’re just as much of a monster like every soul in the rest eternity.” Alucard turns on his heels, heading in the direction back to the Hellsing Mansion.

“I’m going back with you,” you say plainly and start following behind him.

Alucard sighs in annoyance, but knows that he would never hear the end of it from Seras if he denies you from going with him.

=======

Seras claps her hands in delight as she sees you following Alucard, “yay! I’m so happy you decided to join us!”

You ignore her welcome and ask her, “so where are my knives?”

Seras doesn’t let it get under her skin that you ignored her. But what does bother her is that Alucard didn’t follow her orders, which were for him to find you and give your knives back. Seras looks at Alucard, annoyance plastered across her face, “you didn’t give them back to her?”

“I must have forgotten, my apologies.” Alucard says in a formal tone but it’s obvious that he wasn’t planning on giving them back to you.

Alucard pulls them out of his coat and you snatch them back, with a glare you say “yeah, I bet you did.”

You and Alucard hold eye contact, both clearly ready to break out into a fight.

Seras tries to break the tension and says in a chipper voice, “I don’t think you two have properly introduced yourselves!”

“Yes, I suppose we haven’t.” Alucard’s smirks and you can see a hint of those sharp- deadly- pearly white fangs. “I’m Sir Alucard.”

You totally ignore him and don’t introduce yourself, instead you turn your head to look around. Then you turn back to Seras and plainly ask, “so what do I do now that I’m here?”

“Well, tonight we’ll let you rest. But tomorrow we’ll start off with the basics, you’ll get set up with weapons and such. Introduce you to the rest of the organization's members. Then you’ll start training, it will be exclusively with Alucard.”

“Seras-“ Alucard starts, he wants to protest the idea.

“I think you’re the perfect one for this Alucard! After all, you did train me,” Seras says.

“Doesn’t matter, I’m not going to train with him anyway!” You say defiantly.

“Well it doesn’t matter, you two are training with each other or neither of you are allowed to work.” Seras says sternly.

“Seras, if I’m going to train with someone, at least have me fight against a worthy opponent.” Alucard says with annoyance

You give Alucard a death glare then turn back to Seras, “I don’t want to be around that monster anymore than I have too.”

“I don’t understand why you keep calling me a monster, little hunter.” Alucard plays innocent.

You turn to him and with eyes full of pure hatred you aggressively say, “because you’re an evil blood sucking twat that deserves to burn in Hell. Just like every other vampire!”

“Bold words coming from you,” Alucard smirks.

“I haven’t had a single drop of anyone else’s blood, and I won’t ever.” You state.

Alucard looks over at Seras and chuckles, “sound familiar?”

“Yes, yes it does.” Seras admits.

You look between the two, “the Hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Well I was the same way, for awhile. But, if you drink blood you become harder to kill! Then you can get rid of the bad guys easier!” Seras says with a peppy smile, in hopes of changing your mind.

“Seras, there is no point. This one will learn one way or another,” Alucard looks down at you and smirks. “And I’ll be there to watch you fall off your high pedestal you sat yourself upon.”

“I’ll be sure to make you my footrest before that ever happens,” you clench your knives between your fist.

Seras steps between you and Alucard, “alright that’s enough. I’ll show you to your room now.”

Alucard walks off, he usually isn’t like this with anyone, ever. Why do you set him off? He has not a single clue.

You let Seras take you to your room, which was in the basement with no windows. You absolutely hate it. You can’t be in the sun, and you know that. But when you were hiding out before, you still would open up the shades. You’d stay out of the sun, but still be able to see outside, and see how the sun brightens up the world.

Alucard steps into your room from a portal after Seras leaves out the door. “You know if you drank blood you’d be able to go outside during the day.”

You swiftly turn to look at him, “how the fuck-“

Alucard chuckles, “your mind isn’t protected that well.”

“You bastard! Stay out of my head!” You throw your knife straight for his head, but he catches it inches away from his face.

“I’m just trying to help you, vampire hunter.” Alucard tosses your knife down on a table in the middle of the large room.

“I have gone perfectly fine without help for the past month,” you say plainly and walk up to the table to grab your knife.

“A month? And I just heard about you today? That’s a little impressive, I must say.” Alucard watches as you pick up the knife.

“What can I say-“ You get a smug smirk, tossing the knife up and catching it, “-I don’t have to drink blood to be great.”

Within a second Alucard is standing behind you, “now, now, don’t let your ego inflate too much.”

You quickly swoop around, taking your blade and aiming it straight for his side. But he moves before you get the chance. Now he’s facing you at the other side of the table. “You still are weak.”

“And I’m still going to kill you whenever I get the chance,” you flip the table and it hits him in the face. You use the table as a shield and reach around it in another attempt to stab him.

Alucard was caught off guard but figured out what was happening directly after and quickly took a side step. However you do manage to graze his arm, which made him excited. “Oooh, nice one little hunter, you actually managed to give me a little scratch”

With nothing holding it up the table falls flat on the floor and you fall with it. But you quickly roll over onto your back, just to be met with a shoe against your neck and a gun pointed down at your head. “Too bad you already forgot that I could easily blow your head off at any given moment.”

Seras hears the fight and rushes into your room, seeing Alucard standing over top of you. “Alucard!”

You and Alucard both ignore her. You didn’t break eye contact when you say to him, “do it then.”

“If you insist,” Alucard pulls the slide back with his teeth and aims it straight for your forehead. He waits for you to stab him in the leg or attempt to escape, but when you don’t he pulls the trigger.

You didn’t flinch when you heard the shot, expecting a bullet hole through your head. You watched him pull the trigger and not a single round came out of the barrel. You smirk and condescendingly said, “fucking pussy.”

Alucard chuckles and takes his foot off your throat, “you might actually be worth a little more than the dirt on my shoes. Nowhere near a true vampire’s skill set, but I’ll train you to the best of your ability.”

You stand up, “like I said before, I don’t train with monsters.”

“Yet you just did… Well it was more of a test then a training.” Alucard smirks.

Seras looks at him, then looks back to you, “this wasn’t my idea.”

You give Alucard a death glare, “you fucking ass-“

“I will see you tomorrow night, right after sunset.” Alucard says and leaves the room.

“I’m going to kill him,” you say plainly.

Seras stays silent for a moment then says “alright, see you tomorrow.”

After she leaves you flop down on the bed and even though you fight sleep it takes over because this is the first time you’ve been in an actual bed in… you can’t even remember.

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As soon as you hear a footstep in the hallway you get up and ready your knives. You move without a sound to the side of the door that will conceal you when it opens.

Alucard comes through the wall and says, “you pay good attention little hunter.”

As you turn around you aim your knife straight for Alucard’s heart, but he grabs your wrist and holds your arm firmly in place. Putting his gun to your temple he chuckled and sadistically said, “you really need to remember that your knives aren’t that great.”

“They’re good, you just play dirty.” You tug on your arm and he lets it go.

“All is fair in love and war,” Alucard knows that the ‘love’ part will tick you off. Which is precisely the reason why he said it.

“I’d never feel love for a monster, especially a monster like you.” You go to stab him again but he dodges your swing.

“You have all eternity to change your mind,” Alucard continues to tease you as he dodges every swing you throw.

“I’ll kill you before that ever happens,” you go to hit Alucard but he dodges yet again and hits you in the back.

“You’re doing a terrible job at that,” Alucard chuckles and throws you up against the wall, holding you by your neck.

You stab at his wrist and arm, he doesn’t budge. But after a few moments Alucard let go of you, “okay little hunter, let’s get you weaponized.”

Alucard leaves the room before you get the chance to run your mouth, you follow him in silence.

=======

“Take your pick,” Seras says as she leads you into a room filled with weapons. “I recommend something that is long range since you are still unwilling to drink blood.”

You are immediately drawn to the swords, knives, and daggers. “So what’s the difference between these and any other weapons?” You choose the swords and a few knives to be your weapons.

“Well, unlike yours these are blessed,” Seras says.

“Blessed?” You ask in confusion.

“It means they are holy weapons to use for unholy acts,” Alucard smirks.

You ignore him and go over to an insanely large riot shotgun, “alright. I’ll use these. Now if you excuse me I’m going to go sleep until I’m completely recharged.”

You take the weapons with you and go back to your room. It’s going to take you a while to get used to this new way of life.

#hellsing fanfiction #hellsing ultimate #hellsing #fanfic #alucard x reader #vampire #alucard #alucard hellsing #alucard fanfiction #long post

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highly-opinionated-nerd · 5 years

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I finished Castlevania season 2

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aquilaofarkham · 3 years

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title: the little death rating: T+ word count: 2,409 summary: Two years after his fight with Death, Trevor’s injuries start catching up to him while Alucard realizes that humans are more fragile than he thought.

For @trevorsmellmont ❤️ Thank you so much for commissioning me!

READ HERE

There’s a sharp pain pooling beneath his right arm, coursing through his ribcage. Trevor ignores it just as he’s ignored all the other aches, jabs, and stings over the past two years. Two years of building something better, something sustainable to last far longer than its young, admittedly green founders. Countless days, weeks, and months erecting homes, gardens, and pens for those dumb gentle animals who think the entire townscape is their personal pasture. Not another mistake of allowing them to wander aimlessly straight into the castle. As if heifers need to learn how to craft medicine or conduct what’s being referred to as “electricity”.

The work will never be finished. Even on days like this when the sun burns hotter than any circle in hell. A few drops of warm salt-ridden sweat crawl past Trevor’s pressed lips and into his dry mouth. Pain and thick heat were never enough to stop him before—he tells himself this, barely certain of his own supportive thoughts (a new concept taking root in his mind). Take it slow, don’t push yourself, idiot. This cabin made from the earth will get built eventually. Another family will receive their forever home to fill with lots of babies. Old wounds beg to differ as Trevor’s arms begin to weaken, each movement slower than the last, struggling to keep up with Greta’s superior pace. She’s always known her way around a mallet.

Another bead of sweat gets caught in Trevor’s lashes, sparing his eyes from temporary discomfort. Though it wouldn’t have mattered as they’re already past any sort of respite. He looks for distraction but can only see the blurred shapes coming from a huddle of bodies, despite being a short distance from them. He knows it’s only Sypha and Alucard with the village children, which gives Trevor some relief.

There’s more comfort to be felt when he remembers that one of those little monsters is his own, nestled in Sypha’s lap then placed in Alucard’s gentle arms. She has a name far too long for any toddler to pronounce—Elizabeta Belnades Tepes Belmont—so what rolls off her developing tongue instead is simply “Liza”. She’s innocent now but once she leaves this little man-made paradise and ventures into a harsher world, she will take more after her mother and father. Grabbing whatever life offers with both fists, clawing and biting her way through every obstacle until her teeth are reddened with bloody meat. For the time being, they relish Liza’s soft cheeks, wispy hair, and the way she throws herself at whichever adult happens to be in her nearest vicinity. The other children are helping her socialize by playing games and embracing frivolity; a tactic Trevor remembers from his own upbringing, though with less games and even less frivolity.

“Think you can handle one or two more?”

Greta’s voice manages to cut through Trevor’s mental fog. Funny how she asks if he can “think” about anything especially at this suffocating moment. She must have noticed the way his lips curl into a happy doped up grin while observing his family and couldn’t help but inquire. As any close, loved and valued friend would.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”

“What’s wrong with looking a bit further into the future? Now that we all have one.”

“Looking is one thing, but seriously suggesting is something else completely. My… performance in certain areas isn’t as up to snuff as it used to be.”

As Trevor says this, things deteriorate and get a bit fuzzier from his eyesight down to his chest. Out of focus. Painful. He keeps talking, keeps ignoring the inevitable. Always ignoring what his own body screams for.

Greta wrinkles her nose at his statement. “There are children present, Belmont.”

“What? I’m referring to the house. I barely managed to get one wall up while you’re already on the fucking roof.”

“So dramatic. You three really do deserve each other. And you’re still young.”

“On the outside, maybe.”

She laughs at his lie, misinterpreting it as another piece of mild self-deprecatory banter he might never be able to live without. Greta says something else, perhaps her own personal jest to counter his, but Trevor cannot hear. Breath grows heavier, forcing out a raspy “it’s fine. It’s just my chest”. Barely able to tell if Greta actually said anything about his sudden condition. Or rather, not so sudden. No, this has been building over quite some time now. His muscles and bones screaming, begging for relief or death, and end to everything—whichever comes first. Feelings that only worsened over the years.

Trevor loses control over his legs, now practically boneless. The collision between his head and the ground is nothing compared to the inner war over his heart. Whether it will finally succumb. Greta immediately calls for help—he thinks without confidence, once again. Trevor can still hear voices, but not their exact words. Not Sypha when she demands to know what happened. Not Alucard when he begs for him to stay conscious. Not even Liza as she cries for her papa.

Then all the chaos in the world fades into slow darkness.

Alucard stands outside the closed bedchamber door, contemplating how often he’s touched Trevor’s body. Lithe fingertips have memorized every crevice, scar, soft and rough spots alike. Not just as a lover with wandering hands underneath blankets in the dead of night. Or a friend who holds him steady on both feet when he needs it. But as this family’s self-appointed physician.

Perhaps the prince of two worlds took after his father after all. “Polymath” is what Alucard used to describe Dracula and the very same word others have referred to him as, mostly in the realm of medicine. He knows more than anyone, little offence given towards the herb dispensers and leech farmers (only to be polite for his own townsfolk). Thus, through the anxieties and trembling hands, Alucard gave Trevor his diagnosis: heat exhaustion along with a muscle somewhere in his chest that decided to go rogue and strain itself.

The son of Tepes, the only local doctor worth trusting, and arguably the co-leader of their little prospering hamlet paces across the hall like Trevor did the day Liza was born. He’s on the other side of that closed door, resting. Bedridden from heat exhaustion and a fucking pulled muscle. It bothers Alucard. This shouldn’t have happened to someone who stood up to the personification of Death and pissed in his eye. A stupidly common and easily treatable inconvenience to the human body shouldn’t be the end of a fucking Belmont.

It shouldn’t—unless Trevor’s scars have anything to say about it. The ones on the inside and outside. Inside, unseen, and untreatable. There’s a harsh revelation to be found there; one which the prince has been purposefully avoiding up to this moment. Alucard can try as he wants, use the tools left behind by his father and mother as though it were their final death wish, but he might never tend to what pains Trevor on the inside. He’s a Belmont, undeniably so, but Belmonts are human despite the many recurring signs pointing to the contrary. Then there’s Sypha with her magic, but she’s human as well. Greta and Liza are still human. Humans are more susceptible to dying easy, little deaths even when they follow world-saving victories.

Where does this leave Alucard? Thoughts spiral down, down towards darker places the longer he nervously hovers outside the bedroom. He’s been known to awkwardly stumble into deflection, insisting he’s only half human whenever certain someones bring up this topic of necessary conversation. Meaning he might as well not be human at all. Not when the bodies of those he loves change so rapidly while his remains petrified. It’s only been two years, filled to the brim with countless hours he wouldn’t ever want to trade for the entire world. But the thought of one night as they nestle themselves into bed and Alucard touches either Trevor or Sypha’s chest only to feel an anomaly within their hearts. The earliest sign that time and age will eventually betray them as it does for all mortals—it could be the one thing to break him.

Alucard stops himself at the opportune moment, right before he starts thinking about his mother and father. Did Dracula ever contemplate Lisa’s mortality? Was the decision to never turn her easy or the hardest thing he forced upon his unstable, immortal conscience? Arms crossed over his chest like a protective cage, fingernails digging into the fabric of his shirt until it hurts, Alucard swallows a bitter glob of spit and reaches for the doorknob. Sypha will have to accept the fact that he couldn’t wait for her. He quietly thanks her for the lessons she taught him. If he needs to talk about something—truly talk, no sarcastic wit or banter, just the raw emotions—Alucard no longer hesitates. He won’t, not as he enters the room and immediately sees Trevor still in bed, not quite altogether there. At least he can manage a decent smile and wave of his hand.

“Evening.”

“How does your chest feel?”

“Still a bit tight, but I’ve been taking deep breaths like the doctor ordered.”

The amount of strain heard in Trevor’s voice worries Alucard. Hopefully the Belmont has learned something from the recent past, so he won’t be stupid and suggest anything having to do with leaving bed or getting back to work.

“I think I should get up.”

“I think that’s a poor decision.”

“Are you saying that as my physician or because you’re letting that pretty little blonde head of yours get too worked up?”

No. Yes. Both? If only Trevor didn’t look up at him with those glassy eyes (can he still see him?) the colour of stained glass windows erected in cathedrals he felt so unwelcome inside. If only that smile, somehow both soft and shit-eating, wasn’t in place of a more serious expression. Then maybe Alucard could voice his concerns without being accused of acting overbearing—an accusation grounded in solid evidence but he’s not ready to admit that yet. Not out loud.

“Normal, healthy adults do not become bedridden after pulling a small muscle in their chest.”

“Belmonts aren’t normal… or healthy in my case.”

Alucard’s brow furrows. “I want to think you’re healthy—” I need to. “—that you’ll live long enough to see the children of this village have little ones of their own. Liza included.”

“God’s sake, she’s only two years old. You and Greta, always talking about looking one step too far into the future. Let her be a child before adulthood rears its ugly maw.”

“Try not to change the subject.”

Trevor lifts his head off the indent pressed into his sweat drenched pillow. “Alright. Fine. I feel much better. I won’t push myself and give my heart some more time to recover.”

No response coupled with broken eye contact; sure signs of Alucard’s reluctance to accept his rather weak assurance. The Belmont has no other choice.

“Come here. Sit.”

Another moment’s hesitation before Alucard complies. Feeling his weight upon the mattress, Trevor blindly reaches for his wrist until calloused fingers grip cool, unblemished skin.

“Now lie down. No, no. Not like that. Place your head right here.” He pats his chest and with a fleeting amount of guidance, Alucard’s cheek fits perfectly between his breasts. Two hands smooth over the dhampir’s curves before one before one rests on his silk smooth head and the other against the small of his back. Alucard lied about one thing: his own body can change in small yet noticeable ways. Without the need to fight for the lives of others, whether today or tomorrow, sharp edges turn softer. Trevor and Sypha have finally let themselves breathe as well, let go, and enjoy all of life’s pleasures.

“Hear that?” He asks Alucard.

“... It’s slow.”

“Slow and strong like it should be.”

Alucard wishes he could bottle up that heartbeat or place it in a box. Preferably a music box to listen to its soothing melody long after its original body and soul are both eventually gone from this world. Who knows? It might make things hurt a little bit less like when he redrew his parent’s portrait or built a much larger nursery where his own used to be. Not a lot, but Alucard could possibly live with just “a little”.

“Speaking of Greta…” The baritone of Trevor’s voice sends deep vibrations through his broad chest, tickling Alucard’s cheek. “She said something about more children.”

“More orphans joining us?”

“No, even though I know how much you love those damn orphans. She asked if we could handle one or two more.”

“What did you say?”

“I implied that she was taking after Sypha’s influence by being wonderfully insane.”

Alucard chuckles in agreement. That sounds like Greta. “You never know. It might be good for Liza if she has a younger sibling.”

With the sound of Sypha’s well timed arrival, he’s mercifully saved from Trevor’s lengthy speech about how patience is apparently a virtue and tirades about his “performance” or lack thereof. Greta reveals herself shortly afterwards with a still crying Liza in tow. So many bodies gathered around one inebriated individual, here for him and him alone. Trevor’s consoled yet exasperated expression directed at Greta in particular says “isn’t there someone more important you could be helping right now?”

Sypha is the first to voice her gratitude after fussing over her exhausting loved one. “I will never be able to thank you enough, Alucard.”

“I think the bed did most of the heavy lifting, love.”

Trevor is given an affectionate, somewhat caring glare in response but his focus is demanded elsewhere once he suddenly notices Liza jumping onto the bed. She snuggles herself between him and Alucard, wetting their shirts with her tears.

“Easy there, you little monster. Papa’s still a bit tender.” Not that she can understand or care.

There’s an aura of relief felt amongst everyone in the room—less with Alucard who smiles bittersweetly. It’s a truth he knew he had to acknowledge before it tore his heart open. Trevor and Sypha will die one day and he will have to bury them. He’ll bury Greta, he might even bury Liza. Not today thank all the gods, or tomorrow, not for the next few decades if fate is kind enough.

But the day will come. And it will be Alucard’s own little death.

#castlevania #castlevania spoilers #castlevania fanfiction #trevor belmont #alucard #alucard castlevania #sypha belnades #greta danesti #trephacard #trevorcard #my writing #*cvfic

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antihero-writings · 3 years

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Such Fragile Things

Beautiful cover art by niuan_ on Instagram!! I’ll put a link to her insta in the replies!!

Fandom: Castlevania Netflix (the first chapter works for SOTN too)

Summary: Dracula thought love was gentle, soft, and breakable...but what he feels when holding his newborn son (ch1), and in his final moments (ch2), is anything but.

Chapter 1: His Son’s Life

Dracula did not read romance novels. He wasn’t really one for novels in general, especially written by humans. Science. Philosophy. Medicine. Not flights of fantasy.

But the humans have a word for this…and it isn’t quite scientific.

That word is ‘love.’

…But that can’t possibly cover it.

But ‘love’ was always a silly little notion. Love was flowers and candy. Love was sappy letters and maudlin advances. ‘Love’ was sensitive and easy to break. ‘Love’ was soft.

But this… this is anything but soft.

This is a thing that does the breaking. It is painful, and sharp in the way it pierces him so thoroughly. It is tethered so tightly around his heart, that if he tried to sever its bonds his heart would burn, and quite possibly break.

This is daggers and I’d die for you. This is a stake stabbed through the chest.

And that is not what he knows of love.

The the baby boy murmurs quiet nonsense beside his sleeping mother.

Vlad stands over the cradle—(a cradle his parents made out of metal, and cotton, and dedication)—the fabric soft against his fingers.

His mother. A human. Completely, and thoroughly. No turning necessary. He could have turned her…but that would have sullied the pink of her cheeks, the red of her lips, the blue of her eyes.

So many humans are out for blood without thirst involved. He needn’t corrupt one that didn’t experience such desires.

Just an ordinary human, who was either brave or very stupid… or maybe a bit of both to walk straight into the demon’s castle. Maybe she was just curious. …He hoped it wouldn’t kill her one day, like the cat who meant well.

His mother. Lisa. With golden hair, and certain shimmer to her words too.

His father. Dracula. A vampire. The vampire. The king of night and all its hordes. A scary story, full of blood and death and the moon was full that night.

—(Could he even be a father after all that killing? Was there a father behind all that bloodshed? Dare he even try to keep something alive, when these hands were constructed to kill?)—

And Adrian. Just born, already with one foot in each world. Half human. Half vampire. The stars dripped from the ceiling, and the sun spilled in through the window.

Would they hurt him for it?

Would this fact grant him safe passage into both worlds, or make him hated by both? Had he cursed this being to a life of not belonging? Or had he given him an opportunity no one else had; to belong to both?

Would being Dracula’s son make him a villain? Or would it make him a prince? Would the humans fear and hate him? Would the vampires bow to him?

Would being Lisa’s son make him a hero? Would the humans accept him as one of them? Would the vampires exile him as a half-breed, impure, no matter if his father had a castle, and a crown, and fangs all too ready to sink into their necks?

Barely noticeable now, he has golden hair like his mother, and fangs like his father.

…He wonders how this creature, so full of light, could come from the king of night.

Then Adrian starts crying.

The king of night is uh…not equipped for this. He’s never comforted a crying child before. He’s made more than a few cry in his time, but he’s never been on the other end…it seems the much more difficult side of things.

He has half—(okay, more than half)—a mind to wake Lisa for help. …But Lisa has done enough for today. Surely he can handle one crying baby.

Vlad is careful not to let his nails pierce the child’s skin as he scoops him up, cradling him in his arms.

Adrian is so small. It doesn’t feel like he’s made of thumping, pumping blood and bone. He feels as if he’s made of glass, and Dracula fears he’ll shatter in his hands.

Dracula has killed so many things in his life. He has killed humans, and animals and, yes, another vampire or two. But he doesn’t want to kill this one. He is so desperate to keep him alive he thinks he might die himself before he saw anything touch him.

Lisa stirs, and Vlad moves the child further away so as not to wake her. He sits in the chair in the corner of the room, by the basket full of toys he will soon play with, and the alphabet charts he will soon learn with.

Dracula did not read romance novels. But he had once heard a lullaby, and he wonders if he can remember the lyrics.

At the gentle song, slowly Adrian calms down in his father’s arms, and looks up at him with those golden eyes.

And Dracula wonders if the world was always this big.

Vampire’s eyes are usually so cold and dark. But he is only half dark, and his eyes are full of sunlight.

He looks up at his father, this dark thing, the killer, the monster king. The creature they said could never learn to love.

And Adrian smiles.

When Dracula returns that smile, it is not an evil sneer tugging at his lips. It is like his face breaks, pouring out all the joy inside him. He leans forward and rests his forehead gently upon Adrian’s.

“My boy.”

***

Chapter 2: His Father’s Death

Dracula throws the golden man into wall, hard enough to break it, revealing the room on the other side.

Nails against the wood, against stone, footsteps merciless as a death toll, blood in the burning halls; Dracula is the monster from the stories after all.

He stalks into the room, his cloak furling behind him, seeking his prey. The kind of snarl only things not-quite-human-anymore make emanates from his throat.

The moment he crosses the threshold, that snarl morphs into a gasp, and, as if it were some magic barrier…everything looks different.

His cloak falls softly, quietly like a hand on his shoulder.

This dhampir, this man, up until now has been Alucard. The reverse of him. The thing meant to destroy him and stop his war. A hunter of vampires that is himself a vampire—(or half of one at least). No, not a vampire hunter. Just Dracula’s hunter. All he has been is another thing in Dracula’s way.

But this thing sitting against the bed, failing to catch his breath, golden hair falling about his face…looks different.

A little boy is gasping, leaning on his wooden sword just to stay up.

“Father, do you think we can stop? I need a break.”

Vlad laughs, and the sound is warm. His hands fall to his sides and his smiles, stepping up to his son.

“Of course, Adrian.” He puts his hand on his shoulder/ruffles his hair. “You’ve done well today.

He is…so small.

This bed. A bookshelf. A wardrobe. A desk, with charts and maps. A basket of toys in the corner. All too small. Too dusty.

The window is letting too much light in.

On the wall, a painting of a family. Too happy.

…a boy, hurting, beneath the bed.

Not a hunter, or an annoyance, or an enemy. Not a mindless, heartless, thing. Not an other. Not a him or an it to be disposed of, but a living, breathing, thinking, hurting you.

A very specific you. A you with a name. A you with whom Dracula had shared so much of his life. A you who perhaps knew Vlad more than anymore else. Not a him or an it to be destroyed, a you that he needed so desperately to keep alive.

Not Alucard; the thing meant to destroy him.

Adrian.

“It’s your room.”

His fingers, a moment ago poised to claw at this man, curl gently into a fist, hiding his nails.

The rest of the castle was drenched in bloodshed. The rest of the castle was full of war. The rest of the castle had turned itself towards it’s master’s deeds, destroying itself in a pointless fight, just like him.

But not this room. He had protected this room from all the blood. He dare not bring it with him.

The heavens turn from hazardous red to delicate blue.

Both of them stare up into the stars. Not the real ones—though they are here to guide them too. The ones on the ceiling. The ones they played under, read under, the ones this golden man once dreamed under, the ones he used to learn their names and places in the sky when he was but a child. The rich blue like a spell, putting the warriors into a trance in the middle the battlefield.

—(But this isn’t the battlefield, and that’s why the war must stop here)—

The blood is clearing from Vlad’s view. It has been a long time since he’s seen the world without the blood.

The room has been empty for a while, but the boy it belongs to is here now.

And, in his proper place, all at once this golden man is that fragile thing again. That thing that could break if Vlad held him wrong. That thing Vlad, more than anything, wanted to keep alive, to protect, and who he would die for before he ever saw him get hurt.

Barely perceptible, Vlad is shaking.

His hands are no longer claws against the walls. He sees them for what ugly, monstrous things they are. Ugly, monstrous, because of what they’ve been doing. He crosses them over his chest, as if to cage them; as if trying to keep them from hurting anything, ever, anymore. As if to feel his own heartbeat, and remind himself there is still something living there.

This is the boy who he played cards, and chess, and swords with. This is the boy who asked about the myths in the stars, and the ones in our hearts. This is the boy who he bounced on his knee, and read to, and comforted when he cried, and on very special occasions sang to sleep.

“My boy.”

Adrian is trying to stand, and for a moment his father sees a tiny thing on wobbly legs reaching for his open arms.

“I-I’m killing my boy.”

Dracula steps to the painting—(though he can barely feel his feet)—where an echo of his wife sits on canvas, holding that infant golden thing.

He remembers her now. He wasn’t sure he did before.

“Lisa…I’m killing our boy.” His voice is soft and cracked and breakable itself. “We painted this room. We…made these toys…”

He was never one for sentiment, never grew attached to objects…but as he looks around at this room, and the things in it, those moments are flickering through his mind now—(is this what they mean when they say one’s life flashes before your eyes? Had he really forgotten so much? Had he really forgotten what life was?)—and the blood seems so obscene now.

Not in front of Adrian.

“It’s our boy, Lisa.”

With an exhale Alucard gets up, and it sounds like the world being crushed into a fine powder. The motion is not gentle…it comes with a cracking and all-too clear purpose, and now his steps are as calculated and foreboding as Dracula’s were moments ago.

Vlad’s hands are now too dangerous to let sit at his sides, so he uses them to cover his eyes…to hide his pain from the world, to hide the world from his pain. A feeble defense against the pointed intention in his son’s own dangerous hands. Playing peekaboo one last time.

“Your greatest gift to me. And I’m killing him.”

He hears Adrian’s breath very close to him, but it is not that of a beast ready to pounce, it is heavy, like the world is sitting on his chest.

He takes his claws from his eyes to look into his son’s face.

Vlad laughs, and the sound is cold.

“You mean to stake me?”

“You want me to.”

“What?”

“You didn’t kill me before. You’re not going to kill me now. You want this to end as much as I do.”

“Do I?!”

“You died when my mother died. You know you did. This entire catastrophe has been nothing but history’s longest suicide note.”

And if he could hurt this boy—Adrian—who he loved more than anything, then:

“I must already be dead.”

Adrian’s eyes are not full of malice. He is not like anyone else that would try to kill the vampire king. Anyone else’s eyes would not be soft; they would be solid and still, pointed and gleaming with with hunger and hate. Anyone else wouldn’t hesitate, wouldn’t be gentle.

Even now, Adrian’s eyes are still full of sunlight; trembling, rippling, ripping sunlight.

It is not fear, nor anger that makes his eyes shudder. It is heartbreak. Imminent heartbreak.

Because he wishes he could save him. Because he knows he cannot.

His heart has been aching for a very long time, slowly coming apart, and it is about to shatter. This golden man is about to split his own chest for the sake of saving the world.

Once upon a time all the stories they told him ended happily, and families stayed together, and no one ever died. His heart must fracture, for he knows their own cannot.

How could Dracula ever try to take that sunlight from the world, when Lisa had brought it down to him from her place in the sky? He’d traveled the world in search of the sun...but his sunlight was right here…and if he couldn’t see that then…

He closes his eyes. He opens them. A silent ask. A silent answer. They both know.

Alucard steps closer. And it is not to hold him tight—(no matter how much he they both wish he could just wrap his arms around him and cry, like long ago, and understand that after the rain everything would be better).

Now Dracula is the fragile thing. And they both know what he must do.

He is trying to be gentle. For love is the only thing that can be harsh in the kindest word, and gentle in the cruelest stroke.

That horrible cracking, crackling, squelching sound. Red drips from his chest along the golden man’s sleeve.

It isn’t death, really. It is mercy. Mercy on humanity. Mercy on Vlad himself. Death had already administered its kiss when Lisa died. And in his undead state Dracula had tried to spread that death to everything and everywhere else, in the world’s most exorbitant suicide note.

“Son.” The word is soft, rasping; the wind in a hollow house.

“Father.” The word is a broken plea; the sun on the abandoned floorboards and dolls, wishing it could illuminate the family that once lived there instead—

And this hurts, yes, but even so, it is the love behind it that is more piercing than any stake.

Love has never been breakable. Love is what does the breaking.

There is something defiant in Alucard’s eyes as he drives it in farther.

His heartbeat fills the room.

And, after much bending, the stake bores through, and the mirror breaks.

—(And for a moment Adrian could have sworn the sound came from his chest)—

Dracula does not burst into flame. Death, for him, is not an explosive show. It is soft whispers: he turns slowly to ashes, without any burn.

Vlad wants to wrap his arms around this small, precious, golden thing one last time. To say goodbye.

Adrian never looked at his father like a monster before, never backed away from his touch, but Dracula could swear the fear in his eyes now—(a little boy hiding from the thunder)—is the only reason the breath is leaving his chest.

Adrian is so, so tiny. (And after everything, he cannot bring himself to deliver the last stroke.)

Dracula’s last thought, the sonnet of a dying monster, is not a curse, or a threat, but something very gentle indeed.

Lisa, Adrian…I’m so sorry.

The only thing left of him is a wedding ring.

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symphonyofthewrite · 3 years

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Such Fragile Things

Beautiful cover art by niuan_ on Instagram!! I’ll put a link to her insta in a reblog!!