Tumgik
#hellsing but its just me married to alucard
alucardsathomewife · 11 months
Text
Happy Father's Day
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Because I'll call Alucard daddy anytime of the year
408 notes · View notes
doodleferp · 3 years
Text
The Red Yarn
previous | next
The young Sir Hellsing is told how Alucard and Allison met and married and questions the legitimacy of the No-Life King’s memory.
This takes place in 1990. Integra is 12/13 years old and a relative amount of time has passed since she released the couple from the dungeons.
TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of abuse, mentions of violence
Tumblr media
Once upon a time, there was a king. This king did not rule over a kingdom -- but rather, he ruled a species. He was the king of vampires.
For the longest time, the king had no-one to call his own. All of his human loved ones grew old and died, and the minds of his servants were skewed and warped to serve only him. He had no-one to call his own. And he liked it that way. There was nobody who could tell him no, nobody who could keep him from feasting on the blood of women and children. If he wanted something, he could take it. And nobody could stop him.
One dark night, the vampire king was stalking through a small town, in search of his next meal. As he indiscriminately left bodies in his wake, he heard a commotion in an alleyway -- a witch trying to kill a passerby and take their limbs for an enchantment. Seizing his chance, the vampire king attacked the witch, ripping her limbs from her body amidst her pleas for mercy. When he had finished sucking down the witch’s tainted blood, suddenly he saw something. Or rather...someone.
A peasant girl, no older than thirty years of age. She was cut and bruised, no doubt from the witch’s attack. And oozing from her wounds was the sweetest blood he’d ever smelled. The king felt a warmth in his heart that he could barely remember feeling before. He could not bear to strike the peasant girl dead. Almost instantly after he laid eyes on her, he felt like his weary heart was whole again. The vampire king knew what he had to do. Without a second thought, he picked up the poor girl and took her back to his castle.
“This sounds an awful lot like a bedtime story.”
Alucard smiled. “Well, you are getting ready for bed, my master,” he said. “I simply thought it appropriate to frame it as such.”
“That’s not the point,” Integra said. She was sitting across from him, in her pajamas and bundled up in the thick fluffy comforter. “I asked you to tell me how you met your wife. I did not ask you to tell a fairy tale.”
“No, you didn’t.” Alucard crossed his legs. “But this is much less tedious, don’t you think?”
Integra opened her mouth to retort, but stopped herself. Then she leaned back on her pillow, pulling the comforter above her neck. “Very well, then. Continue.”
Alucard chuckled. He cleared his throat, and began anew,
Inside the castle of darkness, the peasant girl’s wounds were dressed and her safety was assured. She was waited on hand and foot by the king’s three servants. Though she did not come from status, the king of vampires treated her like nothing less than a princess. As time went on, they grew to appreciate one another’s company. Appreciation turned to fondness. Late-night conversations became secret whispers meant only for the other’s ears. The distance between their hands soon became nothing. And their fondness turned into love.
But alas, the vampire king was not satisfied. He did not want a princess. Every night, he would beg her to marry him -- to become more than just a mere human; become a being of light and darkness. The queen of vampires.
But though she loved him dearly, the peasant girl was afraid. Her family was bound by fear to a horrid creature. One that made even the vampire king sick to his stomach.
“Oh, wonderful,” Integra rolled her eyes. “A monster.”
“Not a monster,” Alucard said, his eyes darkening. “A demon.”
The peasant girl was terrified of what the demon would do to her family when he learned that she was going to leave. He would use threatening promises to control them, and keep them rooted in the spots he deemed best suited for them. And he had no kindness to spare for anyone. Least of all the girl herself. She knew not why, but the demon seemed to hate her more than anyone else. When he heard of her engagement, the demon was enraged. He would not lose control over his pawns, he said. He was going to put a stop to this.
But he did not reckon with those the peasant girl had to defend her. The moment the vile demon set foot in his home, intent on stealing the girl back to its lair, the vampire king attacked. He made his stand in the moon’s light and vowed he would allow no harm to come to his beloved. He sent the demon away, his cowardly tail tucked between his legs.
With the demon slain, the girl and her family were free. She and her vampire king were finally able to marry without fear of reprisal. And within months, they were wed, with a small gathering present to view them join their lives together. That night, amidst the dim candlelight of their bedchamber, the vampire king lay his queen down in their bed. He lavished her with all of the pent-up desire he had held back for so long.
Then, after many kisses and whispers of encouragement; the king of vampires sank his fangs into the flesh of his new wife. And she had the sweetest blood he had ever tasted.
“The end.” Alucard looked over at the young girl, who had somehow fallen asleep during the ending of the story. He chuckled to himself and got up off the bed before going over to Integra and pulling the comforter over her neck. “Good night,” he said softly. “Miss Hellsing.”
The vampire turned away from the sleeping girl and headed for the bedroom door. His wife stood outside, having been watching them through the whole ordeal. “That was quite a tale,” she said.
Her husband shrugged. “My master wanted a story. Who am I to deny her request?”
“I supposed that’s only fair,” she said. “And by the way, I thought I was the one who became infatuated with you first.”
“I can take a few creative liberties, can’t I?”
Allison chuckled. “Well, if you backhanding my father counts as slaying an evil demon, I suppose it’s not entirely inaccurate.”
“He was about to strike someone. I just had to beat him to it,” Alucard said with a bemused smile. He went to his wife. “Besides, it’s so cliché these days for the woman to be the one who falls in love. When did it become unfathomable for a man to fall head over heels?”
“I’m not saying you didn’t fall in love with me,” his wife assured him. “I’m just saying it took a little longer.”
Alucard slung his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him and resting his head atop hers. “That’s true,” he said, stroking the small of her back. “But it didn’t take long for me to realize it.”
Allison closed her eyes, listening to his softened heartbeat. “So,” she asked. “How does the story end?”
“With each passing year, the king and queen would only grow closer. The queen’s human relatives came and went; but she did not despair for long. For she knew that no matter what, her husband would always be by her side. And they are married to this day, living their unlives in nearly a hundred years of wedded bliss. Together, as they promised.”
He took her hand in his, his thumb stroking her wedding ring. “Together, forever, and even after that.”
His wife smiled up at him. “I like that ending.”
Alucard returned her smile. “So do I.” He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Who says, in this day and age, that stories don’t need happy endings?”
51 notes · View notes
theloveandthedead · 3 years
Text
A Wonderful Li(f)e
Pairing: Oliver Emese Song/Walter C. Dornez (one sided love)
Summary: 50 theme challenge revolving around Hellsing’s Dolos and Aphrodite
[Note: Like Olivia, Oliver is likened to Aphrodite. That is not changing lol. Olivia/Oliver are the same character except different names and appearances. However, if you want to imagine Olivia here, you can. Characterization remains the same.]
[Note 2: These themes will contain references to chapters in “L’amour et La Mort” so this one shot will not make sense if you aren’t familiar with the fic.]
-----
#01 – Ring
Walter prided himself on his well-honed ability to mask his emotions, an improvement from his youthful spitfire self. Yet, every time the ruby on Oliver’s finger caught the light, Walter felt a familiar scowl chisel across his face.
The triumphant smirk Alucard constantly shot his way didn’t help matters either.
#02 – Hero
At the tender age of eight, Oliver sold his soul to Hellsing to become a hero against creatures of the night.
How ironic that in the span of ten years, Oliver found a family in the darkness itself—even going as far as to marry its king.
#03 – Memory
“Even when we are old and no one remembers us, I will always be at your side, Walter.” Oliver had vowed on top London Bridge, ruffling the younger boy’s hair with a smile. “We are brothers for life. That’s all the matters, right?”
And perhaps that was enough for Oliver, but not for Walter.
Never for Walter.
#04 – Box
Walter leaned against the doorway of the attic, watching Oliver pull Martha’s wedding gown from the chest and bury his face against the lace. If he announced his presence, Oliver would’ve lashed out, so Walter remained stagnant as Oliver’s muffled sobs filled the room.
#05 – Run
In the beginning, Walter was miles ahead of Oliver, laughing as the bleeding hearted older boy struggled to keep up with him as soldier.
Then, with the passing years, Oliver caught up and was able to keep pace with him before suddenly bypassing him entirely.
Now it was Walter chasing after him, struggling to maintain his place as a solider and his place in Oliver’s heart.
#06 – Hurricane
The juxtaposition of Oliver’s angelic face and Adonis physique was a constant source of whiplash for Walter.
Destiny may be cruel to Oliver but puberty sure as hell was not.
#07 – Wings
When enemies and allies heard the name “Angel of Death”, they envisioned Walter’s cunning smirk as he sliced through his foes.
When Oliver heard the name “Angel of Death”, he envisioned six year old Walter with his chubby cheeks and missing front teeth.
#08 – Cold
As the bitter Oxford chill gnawed at his skin, Walter pulled his blue, handmade muffler closer, the faint scent of home lingering on each thread.
“Only you of all people could make such a shoddy gift, Oliver.” He scoffed with a smile.
#09 – Red
The blood glimmered in the moonlight, sticking to their bodies like a second skin.
Oliver stood a few feet away from him, his profile illuminated in the moonlight. The blood stained his face and neck, slowly dripping down his torso and seeping through his white button-up. His wavy, black hair clung to his forehead, his cheeks flushed with extrusion, and his plump lips were damp with saliva.
Walter had never seen a more beautiful sight, and as Alucard emerged and pulled his husband in for a heated kiss, he begrudgingly acknowledged that he and the mutt were of one mind.
#10 – Drink
Arthur’s habits kept them from over indulging, yet Oliver and Walter had fallen into a tradition of drinking together once a week.
They would sit in one of the reading rooms, share a bottle of wine, and chat about everything and anything until the early hours of the morning.
For Oliver, it was a get together with his brother and lifelong friend.
For Walter, it was an opportunity to have Oliver to himself.
#11 – Midnight
“You’ve downed more than half of the bottle already, and it’s barely midnight.” Oliver teased, holding up the translucent bottle to the candle light. “Stressful week?”
“You try to keep this manor running while training incompetent cadets day in and day out!” Walter huffed, downing the rest of his glass. “I don’t get paid enough for this.”
“You must really be drunk if your tongue is this loose.” Oliver leaned over and brushed Walter’s bangs out of his eyes. “Perhaps we should call it a night. After all, a hungover ‘Angel of Death’ is a fussy ‘Angel of Death’.”
“Piss off.” Walter hissed, latching onto Oliver’s hand and pressing his palm to his neck. “For fuck’s sake, why are your hands so cold?”
#12 – Temptation
“My hands are probably cold because your body is a furnace from all that wine.” Oliver tugged against his grip. “C’mon, let me go and let’s get you to bed.”
“Shut u—p.” Walter huffed, unbuttoning his shirt and placing Oliver’s palm over his clavicle. “Let me cool down first.”
Oliver gave an exasperated shake of his head before slouching back in his seat and allowing his head to fall back against the cushion.
“Who knew Walter C. Dornez was a light weight?” He chuckled while Walter continued using his hand as a cool pack. “You’re lucky I’m too decent to tease you about this when you’re sober.”
Walter didn’t bother responding, maintaining his inebriated illusion as he gave into foolish temptation.
In this candle-lit room with the scent of wine permeating the air, Walter casted aside his cocky façade and willingly fell prey to a songbird’s gentle touch.
Because, within the walls of this reading room, Oliver was his.
#13 – View
As the grandfather clock struck three, Oliver heaved another sigh before gazing upon the slumbering body across from him.
Even in deep sleep, Walter had a death grip on his hand and Oliver wondered if he’d made a mistake in playing along with his antics.
“You will always be my dearest friend and brother,” Oliver finally wiggled his hand away and rested it on top of Walter’s head. “And you deserve better than me.”
Walter’s eyes fluttered open for a moment, staring at their shadows against the beige wallpaper, before allowing them to fall shut again.
#14 – Music
Oliver was a talented singer; Walter would be a fool to deny that. Years of practice had tuned his once pitchy, strangled shrieks into a smooth, molasses-like melody. And Oliver wasn’t afraid to show it, constantly belting out arias day in and out to the jaw dropping awe of their soldiers.
But not Walter.
He would give credit where it was due, but Oliver’s tastes in music were rather dull to his ears.
That was until Oliver suddenly belted out a Chuck Berry number, his operatic tone taking on a raspy, soulful flair that had Walter’s jaw dropping like the rest of them.
#15 – Silk
Calling someone ‘angelic’ was not in Walter’s vocabulary, leaving such words to devotees or overly saccharine poets.
Yet, as a weeping Oliver adorned in Martha’s silk veil stood at the altar of St. Paul’s cathedral, ‘angelic’ was the only word he describe him.
#16 – Cover
“Alright, I’m going in. You got my back, Walter?”
“Do I have to?”
“I mean, you can just let me die I guess.”
“Very tempting, isn’t it?”
“…….I hope your socks rolls down in your shoes.”
#17 – Food
Walter pretended not to notice Oliver sneaking pieces of brownies from the dish behind him.
No, he just removed the fresh batch from the oven, sprinkled a generous amount of salt on the top, placed it on the counter, and waited.
#18 – Dream
In Walter’s dreams, he was a true Angel of Death—imperious, unbeatable, and feared by all.
In Oliver’s dreams, he had his family back and was able to grow up normally.
#19 – Candle
Oliver raced back up the aisle, leaving Walter on the ground with lips tingling and a flame igniting in his core.
#20 – Talent
“Chugging six bottles of Fanta at once is not a talent, Oliver, it’s an atrocity.”
#21 – Silence
During those four years at Oxford, Walter loathed to admit he missed Oliver’s show tunes and occasional rock numbers.
#22 – Journey
Walter knew the moment he took The Major’s deal, his path and Oliver’s had split in different directions. Yet, sometimes after a bottle of wine, he hoped their paths would intersect again.
#23 – Fire
Millennium’s Warsaw base burned around them like a sea of fire, and Oliver stood above it all with his mangled arm outstretched as he unwillingly commanded the No Life King to slaughter all their enemies.
For the first of many times, Walter felt a twinge of awe and fear.
#24 – Strength
It took everything for Walter’s knees not to buckle when Oliver picked him up by the waist and moved him aside.
“Sorry,” Oliver bit into his apple, the juices dripping down his chin. “You were standing in front of the fruit bowl.”
#25 – Mask
Although Walter was brash and had a sharp tongue, Oliver knew his friend had a heart deep down.
#26 – Ice
Walter knew the moment his treason was brought to light, Oliver’s eyes—warm and green like the spring—would become frosted and bitter as a blizzard.
#27 – Fall
In their youth, Oliver and Walter used to hide in the leave piles and scare Arthur during his morning walks.
#28 – Forgotten
The root of his treason, and the eventual cause of Oliver’s heartbreak—all of this stemmed from Walter’s one and only fear.
#29 – Dance
As Oliver twirled him around the palace ballroom, Walter understood why children were obsessed with fairytales.
#30 – Body
Walter considered it horribly unfair that, upon his return from Oxford, Oliver was a head taller than him and twice his muscle mass.
#31 – Sacred
Alucard may have Oliver, but Walter was his first kiss and he would carry that victory to his grave.
#32 – Farewells
Upon their return from Warsaw, Walter held Oliver as they stood in the foyer.
To Oliver, it was a gesture of brotherhood and comfort.
To Walter, it was a farewell to the future they could’ve had together.
#33 – World
In their younger years, the two of them marked an old map in the library with where they wanted to travel together, with crayon lines zig-zagging everywhere from Montreal to Antarctica.
#34 – Formal
“For the love of all that is holy, Oliver, button your shirt up! We are attending Her Majesty’s banquet, not a cocktail party in Vegas!”
#35 – Fever
Walter had a fever once when he was 10, and Oliver had made some homemade chicken noodle soup for him.
Never again.
His taste buds can only handle so much salt.
#36 – Laugh
The way he hunched over with a crinkled nose and a toothy grin, Walter could see why Oliver’s nickname was Rabbit.
#37 – Lies
“You can trust me, Oliver.”
#38 – Forever
Despite his sins, Walter hoped to meet Oliver again in the next life.
#39 – Overwhelmed
When Oliver leaned over his shoulder, his chest pressed to his back, and whispered in his ear, Walter swore his heart beat could be heard from space.
#40 – Whisper
“Move your ass, Walter, you’re blocking the bathroom door.”
#41 – Wait
4 years.
1,460 days.
2,102,400 minutes.
And, in the end, Oliver still chose Alucard.
#42 – Talk
It took Walter by surprise when Oliver said he didn’t believe people are inherently good.
“It is easy to be cruel and selfish, but to be kind and loving—that takes effort.” Oliver elaborated, swirling his wine glass with a far-off expression. “And it’s hard to make that effort sometimes, especially when the world is hellbent on breaking you down.”
#43 – Search
Walter never thought he would miss the days when Oliver would reach for his hand during mission briefings.
#44 – Hope
The words Oliver stitched into his muffler.
#45 – Eclipse
Oliver stands above him, rays of moonlight filtering through his raven locks, and offers him a hand and a smile.
“Another successful mission by the dynamic duo, hmm?”
#46 – Gravity
It seemed the more Walter tried to pull away from Oliver, the harder he fell for him.
#47 – Highway
The officer was tempted to turn on his sirens as a black Cadillac Sixty-Two Convertible and a Silver Triumph motorcycle zipped by him, but upon recalling the drivers’ identities, he just closed his eyes and prayed none of his colleagues would be foolish enough to pursue them.
#48 – Unknown
The future was a mystery but, as long as he had his ‘family’, Oliver wasn’t afraid.
Too bad Walter didn’t share the same sentiment.
#49 – Lock
The memories Oliver had given him would be guarded in his heart forevermore, even as his wires sliced through Oliver’s skin.
#50 – Breathe
As his final breath passed through his lips, Walter clutched the rabbit keychain in his hand and bid farewell to his first and only love.
3 notes · View notes
blood-and-cigars · 5 years
Note
More alutegra angst pls
Integra slipped the door closed behind her with a light click. She should have noticed the icy chill in the air, how the shadows clung darker to the corners of her room despite the first rays of dawn filtering inside. But she was hazy on terrible vodka. (It wasn’t even cheap, just bad) It took her a moment to register the figure standing by the window, silhouetted by the bruise purple sky. Of course Alucard was still awake.
She ignored him, instead she dropped her handbag on a chair and wrestled out of her coat— still in the dark. Ghostly fingers reached out for it, and she let them slip it from her shoulders. He was clearly trying to get some sort of rise out of her; she didn’t intend to let him.
Integra had stopped staying at the manor past sundown and so he’d taken to waking early in the day. He anticipated her return, she thought, like some trapped damsel in a tale. No, like a dog watching the driveway. Waiting always waiting with a blind devotion that she knew was unearned, and shuddered to consider how it had come about.
“My Master.” He turned to her with what she thought to be a smile playing at his lips. “You must be trying to put Walter in an early grave.”
Only then did she remember the briefing she’d missed, scheduled hours ago.
It wasn’t the first time either, she’d taken to staying away, to drinking late and working remotely in the evenings. She preferred to avoid the manor at night, and more specifically the vampire waiting in the basement for her return.
How could she have simply forgotten? She wanted to think it wasn’t like her to be so scatterbrained. Well, she supposed there’d be other briefings.
She shrugged. “He hasn’t said anything yet.” She slipped her shoes off letting them fall where they may. There was the not entirely unpleasant echo of a song stuck in her head. Whatever had just been playing on the radio. Oh, she was more than a little tipsy.
Sometimes she wondered what his hands would look like on her skin. If she rested her head on his shoulder and listened to him breathe—
No. That was the opposite of where her mind should be wandering.
“He won’t. You’re his employer.” It took a bewildered moment for her to remember what he was replying to. Right. They were still talking about Walter.
He had to be grinning. It was difficult to tell in the dim light, but she heard the mirth in his voice.
As if on cue, the lights flipped on. She blinked as her eyes adjusted. If she turned to look over her shoulder, no doubt she would see a disembodied hand— or if he was feeling exceptionally dramatic, maybe some inky half liquid mass—lingering on the light switch. She didn’t give him the satisfaction of checking either way.
“And I am your Master. Does that stop you?” She walked past him— just a touch too close, the fabric of his coat grazed her sleeve— and collapsed onto a pile of pillows on her bed.
“I wouldn’t dream of questioning you,” he said, just solemnly enough to be comical. “I merely… suggest that you be more upfront about your excursions. You don’t need to pretend you’re sneaking out.”
She scoffed. “I wasn’t. And Walter’s fairly advanced in age already. I’d say he’s had a good life.”
He laughed at that before taking a seat next to her. “I’ll let him know you think so.” His hair lifted and swayed around him in an invisible breeze, a few locks reached out to brush her cheek. Presumptuous as always.
Yes she’d been avoiding him— the curve of his lip when he spoke to her. The way, among his ever changing forms, his eyes were always the same.
Alucard was her vampire, and though he seemed casually affectionate of her, though he sought her out even when she ignored him, she couldn’t help but think that every time she indulged him she was somehow exploiting this magic that tied them together, and the various ways a mind could twist after nearly a century of captivity.
However, for this moment the tension had fallen away by the graces of exhaustion and drunkenness and she remembered how easy it was to be around him, when she didn’t consider the blood on his hands, or what it meant to be the one that controlled him.
“Why are you still awake?”
“I’d ask you the same thing. You did not sleep the night, did you?”
“No, I didn’t,” she said.
“Now tell me Integra,” he said, grin acerbic. “Is this how you intend to lead? Sneaking back inside your own home stumbling and drunk? You’re setting such an example.”
“Says the man infamous for impaling his victims.”
“Am I the moral standard you set yourself to? That’s going to end very well.” His mouth twitched but he didn’t show any other sign of displeasure at the mention of his human life. “Oh and everyone’s half convinced you’re dead, might I add.”
“Of course they’re panicking.” She sighed. “I took the car, what did they think happened?”
He shrugged. “We are so accustomed to our Sir Hellsing being married to her work. Surely only disaster would keep her away from responsibility.”
“I was tired and… I forgot. Surely you can carry on for a single day without me?”
“Night,” he said. “It’s the question of whether we can carry on without you for a single night. And I’m not sure, can we?”
“Well apparently not.” She stared at the room not quite seeing it, wondering how she could clean up this mess. The worst part was that he was right, she knew no one else would ever say a word about this.
“Integra, as far as vices go, this isn’t the worst. But it isn’t the healthiest either. Will you consider… ”
“Consider what?” She turned to him, waiting. In certain conversations with her, he always chose his words very carefully. Yet another thing she didn’t want to think about; the list was ever growing.
For better or worse she liked his presence, he’d been a constant in her life these last few years. And she suspected there was genuine fondness in the way he gazed at her sometimes; perhaps even now.
He’d doted on her since she was a young girl in a way she liked to think he didn’t have to.
“I watched your father take on this very same mantle, and I saw how your grandfather shaped it. They both struggled. Hellsing suffocates its leaders, it’s a cloying thing. When you run from it, it only becomes hungrier in your absence. ”
“Are you sure you’re talking about the organization?”
“You might balk at the sheer burden resting upon your shoulders,” he said, ignoring her half hearted attempt at a joke. “However, your time is yours, and so are the decisions. Should you choose to leave, should you choose to work, should you choose to have me disembowel anyone who earns your ire.”
He was beautiful, in his own way. So beautiful that sometimes when he knelt at her feet to gaze up at her, her heart would hurt with it. And when he did not grin and show those teeth, his face was soft and almost kind.
Their faces lingered too close for a moment and she just knew he heard her breath catch. Of course he smirked.
“What are you getting at with this, Alucard?”
“I mean, my Master, that all of us bend to your will. If you do not wish to sit in for a briefing, all you’d need to do is speak the words and there is no briefing. It’s far simpler than making yourself sick with drink. You may hold my leash more literally than most, but do not forget we are all of us at your beck and call.”
She swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. “And, if I don’t want this power? If I don’t know what to do with it?”
There was no denying the fact that she was a teenage girl saddled with responsibilities and decisions she could hardly comprehend and each morning and night she wondered at her own inadequacy at handling them. She was so young, brimming with it. She nursed the slow growing wounds in her heart with more bad choices and staggered back to the manor— no it was not home— every time, feeling even more hollow than before.
“Contrary to what might often be said, there is more pain in youth. More suffering, and it will only reflect on your future. Set yourself up for unhappiness now and you’ll have a lifetime of it waiting for you. You may not want your power, but it has you. And it will consume you, if given the chance.”
She looked away, to the creeping dawn outside, and the daylight that did not reach inside her room. She didn’t know what to make of this conversation.The first year, the very first year, she’d decided that her father simply hadn’t known. Alucard was clearly a good vampire (whatever that meant) and Arthur must have been tricked into thinking otherwise.There was a mistake, somewhere along the line. There were many mistakes and misunderstandings but that didn’t matter anymore, she’d thought, because she knew now and things would be better.She’d been a foolish child. She thought she probably still was, in many ways. Unfortunately while hindsight is 20/20 it isn’t as easy to discern one’s current failings. Sometimes she liked to think of herself as a memory, as something far away. She’d sit and pretend she was watching herself from ten, twenty years in the future, which of her present choices would she be ashamed of then? Nothing? Everything?
She hadn’t noticed that he’d been searching her face, with varying signs of distress. Likely checking if he’d offended her somehow.
He’d told her before that while she’d forbidden him to take liberties with her mind, he did catch snippets of her thoughts here and there. That he could sense high emotions, even if he couldn’t unravel what exactly they were.
She smiled wanly in assurance.  “That was unnecessarily long winded, you know.”
He shrugged. “I wasn’t certain you were sober enough to keep up. Walter rescheduled the briefing for this evening. Will you attend?”
“Going out is much more fun though, don’t you think? If I’m staying in, then you must entertain me instead.” The change was subtle. She wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t close enough to touch. He went very still for a moment, and she could see something about his relaxed posture was now forced. She could’ve blinked and missed the look of sheer horror cross his face before he smoothed out his features.  
Integra watched him, confused. Had something happened? Had he sensed some disaster somewhere else? It’d just been a joke, she’d expected a half hearted smile. Another one of his silly responses. Really the question was nothing compared to the outrageous things he’d said to her before.
“If that’s what you wish, Master.” And the hollow, too steady tone to his voice made her understand.
“No.” She jumped to her feet, as if putting more distance between them would prove her point. “Absolutely not—  I’d never expect anything like— it was a joke. I was making a joke.”
He did not move for too long, that falsely pleasant expression frozen on his face.  “Are you running from me little Master? I thought you wanted entertainment. Come here, let me entertain you.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“If my Master desires my bloody embrace, who am I to deny it?” He crossed over to where she stood in a flurry of shadow. His voice turned raw, barely human. “Does it thrill you to think of all the lives I’ve taken? The bones I’ve snapped between my teeth? Or is the appeal in fucking a glorified corpse? Tell me Integra, do you aspire to necrophilia?” She flinched away from him, knocking into the wall behind her. From her eye level all she could see were his teeth. “Stop,” she hissed. “That is enough of this. Get away from me. Sit down.” “Is that an order?” He did not back away just yet, but he straightened, putting some distance between them.
“It is.”
And so he had to obey. She thought she saw his hands tremble, but then he folded them neatly in his lap. “Any other instructions for me, my Master?” Of course his tone was mocking. She raked her fingers through her hair. God knew she wasn’t sober enough for whatever this travesty was. “I have cigars in the nightstand. Give them to me.” He did as she said, but not before a disapproving look. “You’re too young to smoke.” “I thought I’d give myself a head start.” She lit one of the  cigars with an unsteady hand. It didn’t do much to calm her, she hadn’t expected it to, but at least it was something to focus on. She couldn’t quite bring herself to peel herself off the wall yet. “Well that explains the smell.”
“I was joking,” she said again.  It was not lost on her how quickly he’d jumped to that particular conclusion. “So that is Hellsing’s great legacy, is it?”
He did not respond at first, only watched her. She could tell the stillness was a thin veneer, ready to collapse at any moment. Underneath there was a depth of hysterical restlessness, or perhaps that was just how she felt herself.
“I have nothing,” he said. “Yet you Hellsings always want. ”
She thought of her father and his calm reassuring voice. Of the portrait of Van Helsing hanging in the foyer, of the stories Arthur had told her about the legendary grandfather she’d never met.
She took a deep pull from the cigar, let it out in a puff of smoke. She counted heart beats until her breath was sufficiently even before she asked, “Even my father?” But still her voice came out small, frightened.
“You mustn’t ask questions you don’t want answered.”
“Are you trying to spare my feelings?” She asked, incredulous.
Again that thin calm broke. “Fine. What would you like to know, Integra?” He all but snarled. “Your father liked his alcohol, just as much as you, and Abraham now that I think of it. It must run in the family.” His smile twisted. “ He expected drinks before bed, several. He preferred his top shelf scotch, but really he’d down an entire bottle of dessert wine if that’s all there was on hand.
“Do you know what else he liked? Young girls. Very young girls. Have I shown you my other forms before? It took some time before we settled on his favorite.”
“I’ve heard enough.”
“He was also very fond of rope, and chains. For himself ironically. And surprisingly enough that was the worst part, for me. You see I’m loathe to cause a Hellsing pain, I think it’s part of the seal. But Arthur—“
“Stop it, stop it. You were right I don’t want to know.”
“ Did you want to hear about Abraham instead? He had two identical medical kits— modified for vampires of course. One was for research, the other for—”
“Just shut up, I don’t want to hear it.”
“Is that an order?”
“Yes it bloody well is.” She shut her eyes for a moment, forced herself to calm down in the ensuing silence. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.  
“The iniquity of the father is indeed visited upon the children, Integra. You meet the eyes of your forefathers’ sin every day. Does that upset you?”
“What do you think?” She put out the forgotten cigar in her ashtray. Not much of it was left anyway, it had all but burned out.
“It isn’t my place to make assumptions, is it?”
“I’m sorry,” she said again, because really that’s all she could say. “I’m sorry for my family’s past actions, and that I made you recount them.”
“May I stand?”
She looked at him, confused for a moment before she remembered her orders. “Yes, of course. You may leave, if you wish.”
He did not stand. Instead it seemed he was slowly dissolving into thin air.
“Alucard, wait.”
“You are indecisive today, my Master.” He paused, more silhouette than person at that point.
“I will never use my power over you in such a way. And if I ever do, you have free reign to slit my throat.”
“And kill the last Hellsing? Who then will hunt the creatures of the night? Who will keep me in check? Do you intend to release me upon an unsuspecting world, Integra?”
She was silent.
“While I appreciate the sentiment, the seal wouldn’t allow anything so drastic, in any case.” He hadn’t appeared to move, but he was closer now, on his knees before her. “My first Master was far too clever for that, he thought of everything.”
“You don’t sound displeased by that.”
“He was an extraordinary man; I loved him. I loved Arthur too.” He laughed bitterly. He did not look at her as he spoke, “I embrace that which destroys me. I adore it. Do you intend to destroy me Integra?”
“No,” she said softly. Her throat was hoarse, as if she’d wept, as if she’d screamed. And maybe it was because she was still a little drunk, but she reached out, tentatively, to cup his cheek.
He tensed for a moment, before leaning into the touch. “Is that a promise?”
“It is.”
“No, it’s a pretty lie.” And with that he disappeared, leaving her alone in the morning sun, still reaching out for nothing in particular. 
For awhile after, all she could hear was her heart pounding in her ears. Unsteadily she changed into a fresh set of clothes.
Walter would be preparing breakfast, she best go down to apologize.
35 notes · View notes
katsbooks · 5 years
Text
Schwarze Nacht - Chapter Six
Walter C. Dornez x Reader
‘All orders by Master Integra Hellsing will be followed to the letter. Any complaints will be given in written form to the Head Maid, who will in turn give them to Master Hellsing. You will have Sundays and Wednesdays off to do as you please, within reason and without violation of Organization policy. Otherwise, you will be in the uniform given to you at all times outside of your room. Your shift will begin at 5:30 am and will end only when the Head Maid, Butler (Sir Walter C. Dornez) or Master Hellsing deems it over.
      If there are any questions or concerns that are not addressed in your pamphlet, please consult the Head Maid or Butler.’
           Walter began (Y/n)’s weapons training the day after the probation period ended.
           Where she was pretty efficient with a handgun and a normal rifle, Walter wanted her to try out a sniper rifle. He had her outside on the rolling grounds of the manor, with a target over 500 meters away. She laid on her belly, the rifle cradled in her hands as she looked down the target sight. Her shoulders and arms were cramping a little from holding the heavy gun for so long and her grip was starting to grow shaky.
           Walter was knelt down beside her, instructing her on how to steady the gun. He reached down and held the hand holding the underside of the barrel with his own, offering a little more stability. (Y/n) aimed carefully, for the heart of the target and held her breath for a second, before firing, releasing her breath.
           “Five centimeters to the left, but you’re starting to get the hang of it,” Walter said with an approving smile. (Y/n) groaned and flipped the safety on, setting the gun down so that she could sit up, rolling her stiff shoulders. “You’ll grow used to the weight and position. It’s always difficult to deal with at first.”
           “I hope so, otherwise I’ll end up looking like a board….” She commented, rubbing her neck and arms to loosen the tense muscles.
           “Hm….are there any other weapons you’re interested in learning how to use?” Walter asked. (Y/n) thought for a minute.
           “…knives.”
           “Knives?”
           “Yeah. They’re easier to conceal, lighter and just seem a little more practical in my personal opinion,” (Y/n) shrugged. Walter hummed as he disassembled the sniper rifle, placing it back into its case.
           “….well, I don’t know much about handling knives, but Master Hellsing and Alucard are quite familiar with blades. I could talk with them about possibly teaching you,” he suggested. “Until then, though, I would like for us to focus on your gun handling.”
           (Y/n) grimaced a little. “Lovely.”
           By the time Sunday rolled around, she ached in places she didn’t know she could ache. Walter had her practicing with that sniper rifle every day, assembling and disassembling it, cleaning it and shooting it. She rubbed the back of her neck, sitting in the galley with her morning coffee.
           “Good morning, Miss (Y/n).”
           She looked up wearily, “Morning, Walter.”
           “Are we tired, my dear?” he inquired, sitting down across from her with his morning tea and a small stack of toast.
           “Mostly body sore, which in turn makes one tired,” she said.
           “You’ll have to grow used to that feeling, working with that rifle,” he stated.
           “I know. I’m just being a whiner,” she smiled a little. Walter chuckled as he stirred in his usual spoonful of sugar for his tea. “Doesn’t training me take away from your own duties, Walter?”
           “Not really. It is part of my job to see that you’re properly trained,” he said. (Y/n) hummed and swallowed a mouthful of her coffee. “So what is the plan today, (Y/n)?”
           “I’m planning on walking to town today,” she said. “I’ve got a letter coming in and a book I’ve been waiting to come out is finally in the stores.”
           “Ah, would that be a sequel to that mystery novel I loaned you?”
           (Y/n) grinned, “You caught me.”
           “I suspected as much when you kept it a little longer than usual,” Walter smiled.
           “Yeah, I really liked it. I might pick up the first while I’m there, too, so I don’t have to keep stealing yours,” she chuckled.
           “Well, why don’t I accompany you today? I’d rather like to get my hands on it as well.”
           “It would be nice to have some company,” (Y/n) admitted. “I was planning on leaving after I finished breakfast.”
           “Very good, then.”
           (Y/n) smiled and turned her attention to finishing up her bowl of sliced peaches. Thinking on it, it really hadn’t felt like she had been there over three months. It felt both shorter and longer than that.
           “Something bothering you?”
           “Hm? Oh, no. Just thinking about how long I’ve been here. It doesn’t feel it,” she said.
           “Is that a good thing?”
           “I suppose so. I feel comfortable enough here to not really let something like time bother me, but then I think on how long or short it’s been since I arrived here and I’m surprised because it doesn’t feel like that much time had passed at all,” she said.
           “When you stay busy and you work with people you enjoy being around, you tend not to notice time passing by,” Walter stated. “Now then, are we finished?”
           (Y/n) looked down at her empty bowl, where her fingers had absently been feeling around in. “…I guess so. I hadn’t even noticed I had finished my breakfast. Darn.”
           Walter chuckled and stood, putting away his and (Y/n)’s dishes as she wiped down the table real quick, before they walked out of the manor together, once he let Integra know where he was going.
           It was a pleasant day, the sky was bright blue and there was a comfortable breeze blowing, the temperature just cool enough to ask for a light coat.
           “It’s growing close to winter,” Walter noted, having donned a light jacket before leaving.
           “Yes, my favorite time of year. I love the cold,” (Y/n) smiled brightly. “I love the snow and the warm blankets and hot chocolate, all of it.”
           “Even the blizzards and ice storms?”
           “Alright, not real big on them, but the results can be pretty.”
           Walter chuckled, “I’m rather one for fall or spring. Nice in between seasons.”
           “Mm, yeah. The colors around that time of year are lovely,” (Y/n) agreed. “Weather’s not too bad, either.”
           “Not at all.”
           They stopped at the post office for (Y/n) to grab her letters, which she opened as they walked to the bookstore.
           “’ Miss (Y/n),
                       As pleased as we are to hear that you have a full-time, successfully paying job, I’m afraid we must decline your offer of returning home, even for visit. Your parents have both decided that it is within everyone’s best interest for you to stay—‘ Oh this is just rubbish,” she scowled, folding it up. Walter looked at her curiously.
           “May I ask why you would have to send an inquiry to return home?”
           (Y/n) sighed, tossing the letter in the trash she passed by to open her second envelope.
           “I mentioned that I moved here from America, on my parents’ pushing. Well…I got into a little bit of a scrap back home, when my parents won the lottery and joined the rich folk. I didn’t approve of the change in behavior just because we had money and they didn’t like that too much. So…hence why I’m here, working for Master Hellsing, instead of living at home with my parents. I guess they got a secretary now to deal with the letters. Ugh,” she shook her head, tugging out the second letter. “Dear (Y/n), really happy to hear that you’re working full time now! So glad to hear that Head Maid got what was coming to her. Sorry this is so short, but expect a present within the next couple weeks! Lots of love, Sammy.’ Hm…what is that girl planning? Her letters are never this short.”
           “Your friend, I take it?” Walter smiled.
           “Yeah, Sammy. She’s something else, I’ll tell you that,” (Y/n) smiled fondly as she pocketed the letter, before glancing over the last three envelopes. “Marriage offer, marriage offer…ooh, what’s this? Oh. Oxford’s rejection letter.” She tossed them into the next trash can they passed.
           “Marriage offers? Because of your parents, I take it?”
           “Because of their money, is more like it. What these poor sods don’t realize is that I don’t see a penny of that money,” (Y/n) shrugged. “If I’m going to marry someone, it’ll be because I love them and they love me. Not because of money or looks or age or whatever…”
           “That’s a very wise thing to do,” Walter hummed.
           “I don’t know about wise. More like just…common sense. Why marry for money or looks if you’re going to be unhappy for the rest of your life, right?”
           “Very true,” he agreed, stepping forward to open the door to the bookstore for her. She flashed him a smile, stepping inside with him behind her. She loved the smell of a bookstore, breathing in the scent of paper and ink.
           “What a wonderful smell,” she sighed happily.
           “Indeed, it is such a comforting scent,” Walter agreed. (Y/n) smiled, and walked to the new books table, finding what she was looking for.
           “Oh yay, it’s a sales week too!” (Y/n) nearly squealed, hugging the book to her chest. Walter chuckled softly, picking up a copy for himself.
           “It’s a pleasure to see you so excited over something so small, Miss (Y/n),” he smiled warmly. (Y/n) felt warmth slide up her cheeks and she gave a sheepish smile.
           “I’m sorry, I just…I really like reading. I’d like to be a writer someday,” she admitted.
           “Really? I’d be most interested in seeing what you would write,” he said. (Y/n) chuckled softly.
           “Maybe someday,” she smiled, heading towards the checkout line. Walter smiled as he watched her for a minute, before following after her with a slight pep in his walk.
11 notes · View notes
fandomsunitedposts · 7 years
Text
@lesmismignon My second chapter!! Not sure how good it is. I will work on the editing later.
The first thing Alucard noticed when they walked into the hospital wasn’t the small children running around, or the kids who were sitting silently and staring at nothing. He didn’t notice the smell of disinfectant or the pristine whiteness of the place.
The first thing Alucard noticed was the screaming.
It sounded like an animal, furious at being trapped and screaming its defiance to the world. There were sounds of flesh hitting flesh and then a crash, as if something had been shattered.
A nurse came hurrying over with a look of relief on her face.
“Mr. Alucard! Thank God you’re here!”, stammered the nurse. “She’s thrown a fit! She’s biting and scratching and she-”
Alucard raised his hands to cut her off.
“Calm down. You’re becoming hysterical”, Alucard reprimanded. “Tell me what’s happened.”
The nurse took a breath. “Well, earlier while outside during free-time she decided to wander off. We went frantic looking for her! We found her several hours later in the kitchen eating all the fruit and covered head to toe in dust. She had climbed a tree outside, and from there she jumped onto the roof. From the roof she crawled through the ventilation ducts and into the kitchen to eat! We’ve been trying to get her into the bath.”
Alucard heaved a sigh. He knew she hated getting into any body of water deeper than a puddle.
Everyone followed Alucard as he stalked off towards the sound of the screaming.
When he arrived at the bathroom the screaming was coming from, it looked at first glance, that there were half a dozen nurses attempting to subdue a thrashing primate. Taking a closer look he could see that, instead of the wild monkey he has half expected, there was a filthy little girl.
Striding in, Alucard batted aside the nurses attempting to hold down the wildly bucking child and scooped her into his arms.
She cut off mid-scream when she saw who was holding her.
The child’s eyes took on that slightly unfocused look that while Alucard mentally communicated with her. Alucard gathered her into his arms and walked off a bit as Integra looked at Walter and Seras. They merely shrugged at her.
Alucard came back towards them and said, “She’s frightened of the water. Perhaps if you bribed her with food and didn’t fill the tub all the way up she would take a bath.”
“We’re not supposed to bribe the children with food too often. It leads to them being rebellious so they can get sweets.”, said one of the nurses.
Alucard gave her a LOOK. One that suggested she was possibly one of the dimmest creatures on the planet, second only to ghouls.
“She was raised by Western lowland gorillas in the wilds of African swamps. This child never saw a sweet before showing up here. She probably wants a insect or a piece of fruit.” Alucard countered.
Alucard placed the girl in the arms of the stuttering nurse and left the room with Integra, Walter, and Seras in his wake.
When they reached the hallway and sat down on some benches, Integra demanded an explanation.
“Alright Alucard! Enough secrets. I want to know who the hell that girl is and how you know her.”
And so Alucard told the tale of how he had found a little girl climbing the trees at the edge of the Hellsing property line. When he called her down and tried to ascertain who she was, he realized that there was something not right with her. She crouched down on the ground and when he questioned her her words were broken and hard to understand.
Soon he gave up on trying verbal speech and tried mental communication instead.
He spoke with her mind to mind and had a lovely conversation. She was frightened because she had been taken away from her home in the jungle. Now she was in a place that was cold, foggy, and very cramped. Nobody would let her outside to play,and nobody would groom her.
Alucard had felt a rare vein of sympathy for the girl. And she was so pleased to find someone who wasn’t human that she simply climbed onto his back and stared petting his hair. Having someone who wasn’t antagonistic or scared witless was such a rare treat that he allowed it.
For several hours they were together, just playing chase or wrestling in the grass.
When he finally returned her to the hospital that she came from she had been missing for almost 24 hours. The doctors and nurses were having fits, and when he placed her in the arms of one of the nurses she was so flustered that she blurted the entire story when he asked her.
She told him about how this little girl was found wandering the swamps of Africa with a group of gorillas. For the longest time nobody could get near her, the gorillas were fiercely protective of her, and any traps they set were dismantled. It took weeks, but they were finally able to snatch her in the middle of the night. She never forgave them for it.
There was a nearby village where she was suspected to have come from. When brought to the village she was confirmed to have come from there. About ten years ago an English man had come to the village, he stuck up a relationship with another English woman who was living there. She became pregnant had had a little girl. When the girl was about three years old she went outside to play in her yard, which was near the jungle. When the mother went out to bring her inside for supper the little girl was gone. Despite an extensive search, she was never seen again.
The villagers said that her mother had died of a broken heart several years ago.
“And that’s all they know about her.”, said Alucard. “But I know more.”
“Like what?”, asked Integra.
“Like who her father is.”
There was a short silence.
“Alright, I’ll bite. Who is her father?”
Just then a wet-haired little girl came out of the bathroom, munching on a pear, and stared at them curiously. All cleaned up, and with her dark hair pulled back out of her gun-metal, there was no doubt who’s child she was. She looked like an young, small, female copy of the man.
“Walter is her father.”  
****************************
Walter looked like he might faint. He felt like he might faint. Alucard had called the girl over and was speaking with her mind to mind. He would point at each of them individually and then she would look at him and nod in understanding.
They all heard the intercom calling for Elena’s “translator”.
Walter turned to a nurse that had come running out with a towel to dry the girls hair with. As the nurse was rubbing her hair, and getting an annoyed look from the girl, a pretty young lady came striding up the hallway. When she reached them the young woman crouched down and gave the child a hug.
“Good, you’re here.”,said the nurse. “These people are friends of Alucard and want to visit Elena. But they may need someone to explain her behavior to them.”
Walter privately thought that her behavior would require more than one person to explain. She had crawled into Integra’s lap and was currently picking through individual strands of hair.
The young lady came over and introduced herself while attempting to hide her grin from Integra.
She reached out her hand towards Walter.
“My name is Tess Antonise. If you decide to keep your daughter I will be staying with you for awhile. I specialize in gorilla behavior, and seeing as she was raised by them for several of her developmental years she has picked up many of their communication skills. I will help you decode what she is saying.”
Walter shook her hand and glanced Integra, shooting her a confused and mildly worried glance.
Tess noticed the glance and laughed. “I see she is trying to make friends with Miss Hellsing.”
“Sir Hellsing.”, Integra corrected. “And for what reason do you suppose we will be keeping her? We have no rooms for the child to live in.”
“You will keep her for two very good reasons Sir Hellsing. One: I’ve done my research on you lot and I can’t imagine you ever getting married and risking having your organization taken away from you. She could be an heir for you. And two: She is extremely clever. I’ve seen her solve puzzles faster then any other child I have ever seen. As demonstrated by her fiasco earlier.”
“I can’t have an heir that doesn’t talk or read.”, argued Integra.
“She can learn to read. And you can talk alright can’t you dear?”, she asked the child.
“Right!”, piped up Elena.
“The only thing she really has trouble communicating are her feelings. Her emotions tend to boil over before she can express them verbally. Alucard has helped increase her vocabulary immensely.”
Integra and Walter looked at each other and then seemed to come to a conclusion.
“We will at least see how it will work out.”, said Integra.
1 note · View note
alucardsathomewife · 7 months
Text
He only points at gay people
Tumblr media
201 notes · View notes