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#castlevania on main
soapkid · 2 years
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i’m enjoying the castlevania show so far. it’s not perfect and it’s definitely not for everyone, but i enjoy its portrayal of humanity. specifically the concept of humanity, rather than exclusively the humans themselves
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siderains · 6 months
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yk what has been not enough talked? how annette SLAYS with her “who is dracula?” sentence like yeah girl!!! who is that? why would it be important to know who he is now? we have enough shit to deal!
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asofterepilogue · 6 months
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I will say though. olrox being like "lol mizrak I wouldn't turn you because I'm not in love with you at all" is a little bit funny when he immediately reveals himself the moment mizrak is in a sticky spot, despite saying he can't be seen doing anything for the moment. it's rushed af and ok maybe he's not in love the same way. but it's definitely not nothing either.
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sleepynegress · 8 months
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CASTLEVANIA: NOCTURNE Yall... That's ANNETTE. That is a serious upgrade. She is now a magic wielder from the Caribbean. Yes, that's Thuso Mbedu from The Woman King and Barry Jenkins' Underground Railroad, voicing her.
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shattersstar · 8 months
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A possessive kiss in the rain for Alucard (Castlevania) and reader
First time ever requesting! I love your writing and your series on alucard! Feel free to make a whole new thing or to even ignore this,no pressure! Thank you!
possessive kiss in the rain + adrian tepes x vampire!reader
a/n: did i use this as an excuse to include striga? yeah of course <33 but tyyy for the request along with ur kind words im v honoured 😌 and sorry for taking forever with this i did have a lot of fun writing it tho so i hope u enjoy!!
It was quiet, the sun setting around an hour ago and it was still quiet. Quiet when you climbed out of the caravan to find Sypha and Trevor building a fire, quiet when you took a seat against a tree—the speaker not too far behind, even quieter when Adrian made his way back to camp, finding the magician laying her head in your lap while you stared into the flames. Both the men in your company grumbled at the sight, though Trevor had long dozed off against a tree of his own, while Adrian beckoned you with his eyes. You rose without warning Sypha, she yelped and scolded your manners as she rose to dust herself off. Her words went over your head, you offered a half glance over your shoulder in response, but tensed at the sound of her calling Adrian’s name—his other name.
Alucard rolled off her tongue as easily as all the other humans who dubbed him so. You did your best not to roll your eyes at the title, brushing past the half vampire who bid goodbye to the humans you traveled with.
You both moved silently, the ambient scape of the forest filled the air—branches snapped and leaves crunched in the distance as birds sang above and insects trilled below. You had stayed hidden amongst the trees, but followed parallel to the path that led to a cattle village nearby. And if the horde moved as you all predicted, they were likely to pass over soon. A buffet of beef would surely bring them calling, but it was still too quiet. Animals should have scattered when the wind chilled, bringing the scent of rot and decay. The sky also had not clouded over with the mass of the night creatures, the moonlight still slit through the trees and danced on your skin.
Adrian’s pointed silence didn’t help, but you were too caught up in where the night creatures were to dwell on it. It was not like them to wait so long to show themselves, the sun had set over an hour ago now—maybe they were not here yet.
You were simply ahead of schedule, you settled on, wondering if Adrian had decided the same. You were going to ask him about the silence, about the calm—yet he seemed anything, but calm. When you glanced over your shoulder you could see the emotions swirling in his golden eyes, contemplating and consuming him. “Are you okay?” You asked suddenly, your voice was the loudest thing within miles it seemed.
“Sypha’s quite taken with you.” Adrian replied, and your brows shot up your face. You stayed quiet for sometime in front of the dhampir, trying to understand the root of his statement. Perhaps the question within it. Sypha’a affection and interest towards you was what he had been stewing on?
Was it…jealousy?
No. “She has never been around our kind before and now she has two wells of knowledge. It's the speaker side of her—the only side of her.” You sounded defensive, and you hated it, over a century alive on this earth and still unable to hide yourself from those feelings. The ones Adrian brought out in you with a simple stare.
“I suppose, she does interrogate me to no end.” You both laughed lightly at that. You felt a little easier, ready to move one when he spoke again, “She’s quite comfortable around you—honest around you.”
“Comfortable?!” Your anger surfaced too fast—you knew it the moment you whipped around and Adrian took half a step back. Jarred by your reaction and the glint of your fangs in the moonlight. You wanted to calm down, but it was too heavy, “You think she should be weary of me, scared Adrian? Its okay because you can go out in the sun and survive without blood, but, but I’m—“
“No my darling.” He never interrupted you, never broke that respect he offered so easily a lifetime ago, but he did this time with a hushed tone. It silenced you, jaw clenching as you looked away. You were never one for dramatics, not in front of him especially, but it burned something deep in your chest to feel even more alienated. Forced to see skulls of vampires in the Belmont’s hold—trophies and artifacts of loved ones neatly cataloged amongst the goodies you know the Belmont boy was dying to use on you.
Adrian was easy to stomach and you were the one to be scared of, the one who stayed hidden in the caravan during the days and unable to spend a minute at night alone without wild accusations about your whereabouts, motives or more being thrown around. It had calmed down in recent days, Sypha’s unbridled affection towards you may have been a part of that, but it could also be the nights spent on hunts. Just you and Adrian, the only person who would never judge you, never see your carnage and violence and think anything of it.
It was to ease the burden the two humans had been facing, nights spent clearing areas far and wide while they worked through the days. And to quell the restless Adrian sensed brewing in you. You had barely been sleeping during the days, staring into the brief glimpses of sunlight from the back of the covered wagon with dead eyes, spending the nights irritated and distant, which never helped whatever they may think of you.
But the distance, that helped. The time spent alone with Adrian, moments to feed and drink in peace on the unfortunate souls who didn’t manage to escape the horde. Adrian often collected canteens of blood for you, keeping them with his things and out of Trevor’s knowledge. You never questioned the secrecy, but did have to stop your eyes from widening in surprise when he first gave you one. You had never asked Adrian to do such a thing, to care and attend to you in his own silent ways.
It made your anger dissolve fully, he called your name after you let out an unneeded sigh. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you so. I know it's difficult, I see it. I promise.” His hand met your cheek, cradling you for a soft second. You leaned into his touch before remembering the reason you were out here. You would find the words later, instead you kissed his palm before turning back to the path. He stayed by your side as best he could, sometimes drifting behind with the forest demanded so, but always within reach. It was only when a scream pierced somewhere in the distance Adrian slipped in front of you. You both leaned into your senses, and while you both located the source of the scream, you also caught a scent of something familiar.
Something from lifetimes ago that brought back memories from your human life. You tried to shake the sudden onslaught of emotions, you were always drowning in what you felt. Alive or dead your feelings consumed you wholly. Adrian had already taken off in the direction and while you tried to follow, that warm floral scent only grew stronger. You found yourself stopping and watching him vanish into the dark of the woods. You knew another vampire was nearby, and as you carefully followed the scent, you found yourself in a small clearing.
A woman, tall and broad, sat sharpening her large blade while you lurked in the tree line. You watched her, wondering why she was here when she called out.
“No need to hide.” Her voice carried on the wind and reminded you of home. You moved at lightning speed, appearing in front of her, your long cloak settling as the breeze from your movements fluttered her long hair.
“Who are you?” You asked.
“Striga, one of four rulers of Styria.” She placed her blade against the log she sat upon, pushing herself up to her full towering height. The moonlight caught Striga's hair as she moved to stand next to you, and you couldn't deny the fact she was beautiful. Strong and powerful, but with the eyes of a lover. That kind that drew you in, saw into your soul and kissed the barest parts of your condemned spirit.
“Styria…” You whispered, it had been too many lifetimes ago since you had set foot on the shores of your birth place. And now, one of its vampire rulers stood in front of you, radiating that warm smell of jasmine and something indescribably citrus that reminded you of where you had grown up. You had left your past behind you, never returning to where you had been turned, not since you were free. Though, you had always hoped to catch that scent of Styria again and finally understand the complexities of its smell with your heightened senses. Yet you were still unable to place the adjectives that gave you a true answer to the intoxicating scent.
“You're the vampire traveling with the Belmont boy.” She was close enough that her arm brushed yours.
“I am.” You confirmed, while Striga raised a brow. Her strong arms crossed over her chest, black and purple armor amplifying her size.
“You ally yourself with the enemy.”
“I ally myself to Ad…Alucard, and if that’s the company he keeps, then it is the company I keep.” You explained, trying to ignore the bitterness at the sound of his other name.
She laughed, a low sound that made you smile involuntarily. “You’re quite something to be with a…half…thing like him.”
You laughed weakly, unable to gauge her tone. “Do you forget he’s the son of Dracula?” You inquired, scanning the tree line where just beyond night creatures howled and screeched.
“I suppose you have faith in him, leaving him to fight alone so you could speak to me.”
You didn’t reply, couldn’t muster a lie in response to what was an obvious statement. You both had lived long to know it wasn’t a question and that it was true. Striga intrigued you, standing tall and alone, and reminiscent of a life you had tried to forget. Her gorgeous purple robes were set against the royal blue sky streaked with orange as shards of leftover sunlight tangled in the thick evening clouds.
“I have heard such stories of his fighting.” Striga suddenly stated, the lit of her accent more noticeable with the casual cadence of her tone.
“Its breathtaking.” You found yourself murmuring, Adrian’s strength was always something to behold. His swiftness and keen eye, how he held his sword ever so carefully and cut many in half with more grace than a trained dancer. He was violence and art in motion. He was yours forever. It made you grin, small and fangs peaking out.
“You wear your affection on your face, he should be honoured to be cherished by someone as beautiful as you.”
“You speak like a true soldier, warrior even. Of honour and worth. It is a beautiful way to want.” You turned to face her, taking in her green eyes and the charm wrapped around a single braid in her hair. It was a long tousled mess of black waves that were half swept up. You noticed the glinting clip that held her hair back and wondered how a notorious commander would own such a thing. Perhaps it was a gift from a lover like the crystal bracelet you wore. Adrian had fastened it around your wrist one early morning. You were dozing in the caravan with him, listening to Sypha try to pry stories from Trevor while easily supplying her own. It was nice to fall asleep to the lull of their mindless talk while in Adrian’s arms. It was then he slipped it over your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips and leaving a few soft kisses there before carefully slipping into the day.
“And how do you love him? If you do?”
You held her gaze, “You imply that I don’t?”
“I’m curious if you don’t.” She corrected with a simple nod. “I find you beautiful and interesting, it would be disheartening to know you are spoken for.”
“I am.”
“By a man who stands on the opposite of side the war?”
“It appears so.”
Striga turned her attention to the sky, appealing to the heavens as she spoke her next words.
“Then I apologize for any hurt I may cause you during this war. I’ll find you and apologize in person, repent for as long as I must.”
“That is, if you truly hurt me.”
“No, I would find you anyways.”
You chuckled, “Why?”
“To see if you are still in love.” Striga shrugged her broad shoulders, the words almost too casual as if she knew something you did not. It made you nervous, another half laugh escaping your lips before you turned back towards the tree line. “You do love him?” She inquired, shifting closer. A moment of silence passed before a howl broke through the woods. Inhuman and sending a flock of birds into the night sky. You followed them with your gaze.
“I try not too.” You answered honestly, watching the winged creatures disappear into another part of the dense forest. Adrian was far too great for this world to be yours. You were a lowly vampire turned by a lonely widow who needed company more than blood. She begged and begged until she stopped taking no for an answer and turned you in your sleep. You woke up screaming and sobbing, a life robbed by someone who didn’t even end up wanting you. Her guilt consumed her whole, she had doomed you to the same life she wanted reprieve from and choose to let the church find and kill her. She left you alone, and you wanted to spend eternity just like that.
But you and Adrian had found each other, lonely in your own torrential ways. You had never met someone like him before, someone caught between two worlds you had given up on entirely. Adrian brought something to quell the loneliness of your cursed existence, and for that companionship, you’d follow him anywhere.
You would accept death at the hands of his father if it meant stopping the bloodshed as Adrian wanted. You had nothing, but your entire self to give to him. Maybe besides the knowledge from the life you lived and the sword on your hip. He could have something more normal, more human than you, if that’s what he so wanted from his life. You had always understood that, accepted that and tried to love him a little less in spite of it all.
Yet, your heart bled for him in ways you had never known in your brief human life, and forever stretching vampiric one. It was almost painful, how much you craved him. And almost, almost, was more powerful than the lust for blood that fueled your existence.
“Speak of the devil, and he shall appear “ Striga’s soft voice broke you from your thoughts, reality crashing down as Adrian stood, panting, at the edge of the clearing. He was across from you, hunched forward slightly, and hand on his blade. “I will be seeing you, soon I pray.” Striga hummed, bringing your attention to her face as she grabbed your bare hand with her gloved one. She brought your knuckles to her lips, placing a chaste kiss all while her sea green eyes bored into yours.
You opened your mouth to respond, but she vanished into the night before your hand reached your side. You pivoted back towards Adrian, walking in his direction at a steady pace, while your gaze fell to your feet. You focused on each step, one foot in front of the other, until his hands jumped to your biceps and stopped you in place.
You were about a foot from him, head tilting from the ground to meet his angry gaze. Adrian dropped his hands from you, letting silence wash over you two as the forest’s din became too loud in your ears.
“I’m sorry.” You blurted out, anything to cut the silence and tension along with it.
Adrian shifted his weight, the sunny yellow of his eyes was a deep amber in the dark of night. “Why were you here?”
“I could smell a vampire, and investigated.”
“Investigated!?” His tone inflected with the anger he normally kept at bay.
“She was from Styria and I-I was curious. Is that wrong?” You were finding your ground, steadying your voice as challenge lingered in your tone.
You two never fought, not like this.
“Was it wrong to leave me—“
“You are more than capable, we both know that Adrian.” You snapped, you would not be guilted into seeing him as helpless. Adrian was anything, but that.
“Why did she kiss your hand?” Your angered confidence faltered, your gaze softening as something…sad bled into his voice. Something cold and lonely you knew well.
“I don’t know.”
His jaw clicked, and in an instant he was in your space, fangs flashing because he couldn’t help it, as his fingers grasped your jaw. He stared into your eyes and asked you again. Perhaps it was the proximity, or your own ego dying down, but you saw through him so clearly. So easily, as you always had, and understood.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, as the looming clouds finally began to cry soft tears of rain.
Pat. Pat. Pat. Against your clothes, it wasn’t torrential, but that misty rain that made everything hazy.
“She was interested in me, she complimented me and asked about you—us. She reminded me of a place I called home ages ago but my love, she is not you.” Maybe it was jealousy earlier when Adrian asked about Sypha, but regardless it definitely was now. You were unsure how he could think such things when you felt so unworthy of him, and he was worried about a woman you met once. Yes she was beautiful, and carried power and confidence like it was given to her by god, but she was not the man you loved.
The one you had swore yourself to, one you killed for and one you would gladly die for if he so much as asked. His grip faltered, eyelids shuddering as your soft explanation washed over him like the rain. With a voice barely above a whisper on the wind you continued, “I never have nor will I give myself to someone like I have you, Adrian. I would do anything at your behest. Anything beloved.” You pressed your hands against his torso, clinging to the fabric of his coat as best you could.
“Anything?” He rasped, like speaking was a chore he had no capacity for.
“I’d burn worlds down or build them up if you asked. I’d kill the Belmont boy or give my life for his if you asked. I’d lock myself away and never speak to anyone but you if that’s what you wanted. Yes, my love, anything.”
“Just let me kiss you.” Adrian’s mouth met yours before you could answer, but you both knew it was a yes. It was more teeth and fang than anything at first, as the momentum of his body slamming into yours, sent you reeling back a step before one of his hands moved to your waist. Your hands slipped up his chest, fingers still clutching the fabric before one of your hands tangled into his hair. Fingers toying with the golden lock that cascaded down his back.
Adrian still had one hand cradling your jaw, keeping you in place as he kissed you with enough desire to make you delirious. Your mouths moved together, his fangs grazing your bottom lip. He wasn’t usually like this, bold and desperate, but you would let Adrian kiss and hold you however he needed. To let the jealousy spiral through his system and find release in your lips against his.
You smiled against his mouth, nails scraping deliciously through his hair before his tongue found yours. You were faintly aware of the rain, starting to beat down heavier with each second you spent lost in each other's embrace. Adrian finally pulled away, letting his thumb smooth over your chin before finding the other side of your waist. You let both your arms wrap around his neck, stealing soft kisses as the thunder grew louder. You knew you would have to go back soon, but Adrian was still preoccupied with leaving open mouth kisses against yours, pulling back slightly before deciding he still needed more. It was more tender, what you were used to from him. Chasing your lips, a few soft pecks turning into something more heated before he would start the cycle again.
You played with his hair and felt his fingers twitch against your side as the darkness clouding his beautiful expression softened. Adrian stopped his assault of kisses, dropping his head to the curve of your neck. You kissed the top of his head, fingers slipping out of his hair.
“I love you.” You murmured, such sentiments felt a little too human and empty for you. And you did love him, but it was just more than that. He still said it to you often, and you were easy to repeat the sentiment, but you rarely offered it on your own. It was no reflection of him, it was just your distance from humanity you could never get back. But you knew Adrian needed to hear it.
“I love you too darling.” He hummed against your skin, leaving a kiss there before standing at his full height. You stared at him for a moment, the want still clear in his eyes as he tucked you against his side. You walked through the forest with clasped hands, the thick trees keeping out some of the rain, not that you cared.
You both had faster means of returning to camp, but pressed against Adrian who occasionally left kisses on the fabric by your shoulder or brought your intertwined hands to his lips, was enough to forget about the storm. Adrian engulfed you and drowned you in ways the rain never could, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
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🦇𝒯he  𝒱isitor (Alucard Tepes x BlackReader) Pt.7
PART 7 SUMMARY:
You and Alucard traipse from town to town together...until trouble strikes in the form of claws, fangs and delayed vengeance. With you left shaken and marked, your host isn’t keen on letting you back out of the castle anytime soon. Normally, this stifling limitation would annoy you...but Alucard has been spending more time with you, lately. Getting closer and closer...
...perhaps being stuck in the castle isn’t so bad, after all?
─── Alucard x black female reader
─── imagery + fiction
─── explicit smut
─── Fantasy, vampires, hurt/comfort, enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, magic user, cute bats, gardening, cooking, cottagecore MC, castlecore Alucard.
☾ previous. ☾ next.
┌───────────━┿──┿━──────────┐
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The next chilly morning, true to his word, you and Alucard make your way down to the garden to gather the harvest.
You’ve switched into a road dress, not wanting to let the nicer gowns that Alucard has conjured for you go to waste. Your hair is bundled up in a scarf neatly behind your head. You’re wearing gloves, ready to work. Alucard makes his way over to the garden and leans down, showing you how he intends to prepare the harvest to take into town.
“This is how we’ll wrap them. Watch closely...You see? Show me.”
He is watchful at first, instructing you on how to bind and rope the packaging just so. It is to keep any of the stock from falling to the wayside while you’re both on horseback, leaving a trail of produce behind you. 
His eyes are as sharp as ever, framed by lowered, dusky blonde lashes as he takes in your handiwork. The low rumblings of his voice give constructive critique, and you manage to avoid any accidents under his gaze. You wonder what he thinks of your hands briefly, before refocusing on the task.
You’re curious now, finding his instructive personality to be a much calmer one than his default. He seems so sure of himself here in the garden, and less walled off. Prepping vegetables is clearly something he had learned prior to your visit (as unseemly as it seemed to be for someone like him), and it is something he seemed more than willing to teach. Alucard seemed like one who liked to learn, now you thought of it.
Soon after, you wait as Alucard spirits away. He reappears with Brutus at his side and together, you prep the saddlebags before mounting the steed and taking off into the woods.
You lean back into Alucard as you watch the tree leaves speed by overhead, the feel of hooves stamping and thrumming through you both. The sound is rhythmic, soothing, and the smell of the green fills you. Alucard’s cologne mixes in with it, his hair beating against his back, with stray locks falling past your shoulders. It is still cool, yet the heat of the horse and his heavy riding gear warms you both. 
You sigh, realizing.
‘I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,’ you think.
Eventually, you arrive in town and it is lively. You sell everything, making a good profit. You know it isn’t needed, but it is nice to have something to do. You talk to vendors and merchants, your tongue wagging in conversation and your mood feeling light.
‘No,’ you readjust. ‘It’s not in the woods I want to be. Perhaps here? This town? But there’s nothing special about it…’
Currently passing by a stand of jewelers while in thought, one of them reaches out to you, giving you pause. You look into a wrinkled face.
“Yes?”
“A necklace for you, girl? A ring, an anklet?”
You stare at the wares, considering. You’re not here for jewelry you remember, though they are pretty.
“I couldn’t, but thank you.” You say.
“Oh, but you could. What a lovely dress you have on. Never seen one like it.”
You look down to your dress, another that arose from the depths of Alucard’s inventory. It is simpler in comparison to what you know him to have from the clothes you’ve seen this far.
“Thank you,” you say.
“Did your husband gift that to you?” the jeweler inquires, gesturing over your shoulder. You follow their gaze and realize they are looking at Alucard across the stalls, across the road itself. He is kneeling near a tavern wall, gifting coins to some street children, an old woman or two huddled beside the shadows of the building. 
He does not realize you are looking. He doesn’t know you are watching him give what you’ve both earned away to those that need it.
You find yourself surprised. You thought that Alucard ignored most of the world outside his castle and his surroundings. He could certainly afford to. Someone like him would never need to understand or empathize with the destitute and the ill. The human.
And yet there he was. 
“He’s…not my husband.” you find your lips saying to the merchant as you continue to watch Alucard.
“But you came into town with him.” The voice is suddenly sharp. You turn to look and see the merchant appears oddly hostile.
“What concern is it of yours?” you say, retreating a step back.
“Nice dress,” the merchant spits. “He is finely dressed, like you. He gives money away like water. Your skin is clear and dewy. You want for nothing. It’s in the way you move. Slow, measured. You can afford the jewelry. You can.”
You find yourself turning to go, yet the offending seller follows you down the line of stalls.
“Are you a mistress? A hanger-on? Does his wife know? How shameless of you, to parade around like this. The things young ladies do for money, these days.”
Your temper gets the best of you. By the time you feel it, it is too late.
You turn around and crowd in on the seller. Their eyes widen, understanding very quickly that the dynamic has changed. They take a step back. You follow.
“Go on, do slander me. Great sales tactic, I’m sure your wares fly off the shelves, the customers love it so much! And not that it’s any of your fucking business, but do tell me; how you would know anything about what I do and why?”
“...Why else would an unwed woman be out and about with a man so blatantly—”
“ —I could be anything, you bint. I could be a mercenary with a partner, a scholar with a professor, a diplomat with a guide…is your mind so small that the only thing you could conjure is an escort? Even if I was, I still wouldn’t buy your jewelry…you insult me, and you insult him. I won’t have it.”
“Is there a problem?”
You and the seller turn to find Alucard towering over your shoulder.
“No,” you and the seller say in unison, one out of fear and one out of dismissiveness.
Alucard gestured to the gems in the jeweler’s hands, plucking a shining necklace from the bunch easily. The jeweler tremored a bit, looking between you both.
“Ah, sir...your wife was simply looking at my wares. Pretty things for a pretty thing.”
Alucard holds the necklace up beside your face then, not answering the seller. He doesn’t refute or explain, only watches you. You watch his eyes take you in alongside the gem before he seems to make a decision. 
He clutches the necklace back into his grip and hands some coins over to the seller wordlessly. The seller mumbles their thanks before shuffling away, seemingly disbelieving that they made a sale after such a torrid argument.
Alucard dangles the necklace before you. “Do you like it?”
You frown. “You heard what they said to me.”
“I heard you defend our honor.”
“Is this a thanks for that?”
“This is because I want to.”
You pause then, a bit taken aback. 
“I suppose...it’s pretty,” you try.
Alucard situates behind you, fastening the necklace to your neck before clasping it together.
“Then,” his breath warms the back of your neck, “I suppose it’s yours.”
Together, you continue through town, the necklace on your neck. The gem weighs against your sternum and you wonder if other people are noticing it, noticing the two of you.
You are too nervous to inquire further on it.
Soon enough, the day’s dealings are done. On the way back home, you find yourself liking the woods once more, and then the castle itself upon the return home.
Home.
Ah.
‘I want to be where he is,’ you realize.
Yes. That’s it.
Alucard stalks up the steps before turning to you, curious.
“Coming?”
You find yourself smiling, not quite sure why. He also seems taken aback by the sudden expression.
“Yes. Let’s go home.”
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Every other week, the two of you venture into different towns for supplies. Sometimes you go with hooded shrouds, other times you walk freely out in the open. Sometimes Alucard takes you into the nearby towns, and sometimes he steers Brutus further out. You have a feeling he has a system on how he navigates the outside world, a system that keeps eyes off of him and keeps nosy townsfolk from tracking his identity. 
You love the trips. You love seeing other people and conversing with them, you love shopping through the inventory, you love getting the little bit of sun left in the chilly weather and you love going there and back with Alucard. He is like a patient specter…whether right next to your side or not, you have a feeling that he keeps his eyes and ears on you at all times.
It is during a return from another town, that something amiss happens.
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You’re riding in a wagon this time as Alucard directs Brutus, hitched and pulling the wagon along. It brings with it some new items, and a few things for you to use. You both could have went without any of it, you understand, but the socialization in bartering and trading was well worth it. It keeps the castle from feeling stifling, at times. You find yourself looking forward to return to it.
Brutus stops suddenly, rearing back a bit. Alucard’s eyes sharpen as he looks out into the forest, clearly hearing something. You watch him turn his head this way and that.
He calls your name. “__________, stay in the—”
You feel something drop into the wagon behind you, knocking things aside and pulling up close to your back.
It is not a warm presence. It is ice cold.
A hand grabs you roughly by the hair from behind, forcing you to bear your neck. You shriek in pain, unable to hide it. The shriek breaks into a gasp as you feel something sharp at the front of your throat, barely catching a gleam of the attacker’s blade.
Your head is wrenched so far back by the fist threatening to yank out your hair, that you can’t even lock eyes with Alucard. You can only focus on the trees lining above and try not to wrestle too much so that you don’t cut your own throat. 
‘This is very different from the last time I looked up like this,’ you note uselessly. ‘Let me understand who we’re fighting before I try anything…’
You quickly try tapping into other senses. You can hear two others drop nearby, on either side of the wagon. You can smell the scent of old blood and grime. 
Alucard doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t say a word. Brutus settles.
The one holding you at knifepoint laughs, their belly bouncing against your back. You feel sick.
“Little prince,” the one behind you calls. His voice is thick, like the seafaring folk of the north. “We heard the king is gone. Thought you were too. Guess it got mixed up in the letters.”
‘Vampires,’ you understand, putting it all together.
The breath rolling off your attacker smells rancid and you wince. Your captor notices, yanking you again and earning another whine out of you.
“Don’t like that, do you? Here, have some more—ah, ah, ah, little prince!” you feel the knife burrow a little closer in your skin, barely cutting it. “You’re fast, yes you are! But my knife will be faster. And your pretty little livestock will not recover from a blow like this. Hold your place.”
It is silent then, and another heavily accented voice from the side chips in.
“They say our leader never returned from your father’s castle,” it spits. “Where is Godbrand?”
“It seems,” Alucard clips in a low, threatening manner you’ve yet to hear yourself before, “you already know. What did you come for?”
“Godbrand,” they state again. “You will take us to him.”
Alucard laughs then, low and mirthless. “An army came and went. A rebellion began and ended. Where have you three been this whole time?”
You hear hissing and shuffling about. 
“Give her to me,” Alucard says, “and I let you live.”
The one behind you laughs again, curdling your stomach with the smell, the cruelty. 
“This isn’t a bargain or a trade, boy. Have you gone insane? Look at all this shit,” he kicks something in the wagon aside, “Cabbages! For a bloodsucker? Ha! You’re a trader now, Prince? You play merchant and house with this human whore? You, who can fly across nations, teleport through realities, and shapeshift into anything...taking this piece of shit wagon in the woods?”
The man spits and you pray it was to the side and not in your hair. Fucker.
“You sicken me! Weak. Your father would rattle to life if he knew what you were up to with those talents, wasting them for pussy. Like father, like son I guess.”
You can see the woods darken from where you are. You can spy the treetops begin to shroud in dark clouds. The air feels heavy.
Something is coming.
“You do not know my father,” Alucard says. “And as you said yourself…just like your pissant leader, your king is dead too.”
You shiver at the boldness in his statement, afraid of the knife slicing across your neck in retribution. Is he even thinking of you? But you hear it then…the vampire behind you…his breath hitches. You are saved from the foul smell. 
The vampires are afraid, you understand. Alucard knows this.
You decide to use this moment. You feel behind you for the vampire holding you hostage and try to focus the energy from your core. Sparks fly between your fingers and it is enough to jolt the assailant. You use his surprise to lean back into him, away from the knife and staggering him to the side.
It is the wrong move. The vampire simply uses inhuman strength to get you right back where he wants you, hands gripped in his fist behind your back and your neck under the blade. You’re both gasping from the struggle, but now with the vampire’s grip twisting your wrists instead of your hair, you can see Alucard and the others.
Alucard is closer, now. Just before the wagon, almost. His eyes burn into you before focusing on the attacker. You have never seen them more animalistic than that first day you met.
“See? Fast,” the assailant behind you sing-songs again. “But not faster than the knife!”
The other two vampires draw in behind Alucard, who pays them no mind. The one behind you tightens his grip on you. You feel your eyes begin to traitorously well up, all the emotions running high from this dangerous situation and frustration from being unable to reach Alucard…safety…who is just out of arm’s reach.
“What’s so special about this one?” the vampire asks, nudging his face against yours tauntingly. His beard leaves a burn behind that you despise. “Can’t be what’s under the dress. Those are all the same. Maybe it’s the blood?”
You feel a tongue lathe at your cheek then, and groan in disgust as you try to inch away without running towards the knife. It’s impossible, and you’re trapped in the game of cat and mouse.
Alucard’s eyes darken even further.
“I think,” Alucard begins, his voice steady and his footsteps backing slowly away from the wagon, “you abandoned your posts. I think you felt that you could slither back from where you came without Godbrand…only to find others like him, who would rip you apart for your cowardice. You thought by coming here you would spare yourselves from that...”
The darkness grows so heavy that you can hardly see. Alucard’s voice is the only thing that can cut it.
“...You should’ve let them rip you apart.”
“Oh-ho…now I know she must taste divine, for you to act this way,” your trapper calls, before he foolishly moves the knife from your throat and uses it to cut at your dress in a quick move. Your dress’s front opens and your sleeve is harshly moved aside, sharp teeth sinking into your shoulder. Before the teeth even puncture, you hear something sharp ring through the air.
It all happens so fast, you can hardly catch it. 
A long sword erupts at your side, running through your assailant’s head and missing yours by inches. The vampire pulls off of you to shout, dropping his knife, and you lunge forward and away. You hear his screams warble and croak off behind you. 
Another vampire leaps to grabs you up by the shoulders, yanking you off the wagon entirely. You feel his hands get ripped away from you as you hit the forest floor harshly. You’re quick to stand, swaying in confusion and adrenaline before trying to flee. Alucard and another assailant visualize before you, weapons swinging midair before they vanish once more. It’s almost as if you imagined it…but you can still hear the battle echoing around you.
'Fast,' you understand, turning back and ducking under the wagon.
Too fast for a human to run away from, likely. You don’t want to get in Alucard’s way while he disposes of these ambushers.
You hear clangs and hisses, shouts and bodies hitting the forest floor. Soon enough, it is quiet. You see Alucard’s boots materialize in front of the wagon.
‘He’s here,’ you think.
You crawl from under the wagon and before you can even move to stand, Alucard’s hands pull you up and draw you in. You clutch the front of his blouse tightly, squeezing into him and the cradle of his arms.
That was scary. You don’t want to go through that again. Now that Alucard’s here, it’s alright. 
You peek past his hold and spy a leg on the ground. Just one, nameless leg.
‘Right then. He took care of things.’
He pulls you back, his grip firm. His eyes rove over you as his hair flies astray, made a mess from the fight.
“Are you hurt?”
You look up to him to speak, and find yourself voiceless.
The ride back to the castle is a blur for you. The bodies of the vampires are left long behind and Alucard is sure to let the wagon roll over them on the disembarkment.
You sit in front of him instead of in the wagon, his arms tight around you.
Once at the castle, he makes quick work of unholstering the horse and stabling it away. He unloads the wagon. Then he finds you, still standing amongst everything, waiting for him and lost in your thoughts.
You’re guided through the castle in silence, the arrival to your personal bathroom harkened by the loud steps on the floor.
Alucard runs the tub’s faucet, steaming water jetting out. You sit aside, looking straight ahead and pawing at your neck, feeling the puncture marks and frowning.
Alucard looks at you then, stepping over to lift your hair aside, gazing at your bruised neck.
“Will I turn…?” you rasp.
“No,” he murmurs. “Their intent was to feed. Not to change.”
You feel the tears then, and sniffle a bit before looking down at the floor. Alucard lowers his hand before brushing a few of the tears away. His thumb, his touch, is not cold like theirs you realize. 
It is anything but.
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The trips come to an end, abruptly.
After the attack, you find that Alucard is unwilling to return to town anytime soon.
You’re annoyed, but you understand why. He’s borne of an immortal creature, somewhat like a demigod on Earth. Trouble like what you faced on the road before is not hindrance to him. 
It’s you.
You’ve picked up your skills, but you still feel shaken after those vampires got so close to you…literally close enough to taste. It scared you then and it rattles you now.
He buffs up the insulation for the stable and prepares bedding and blankets for the animals. He takes cuttings from the garden to inventory in dry storage, there for future use while the Earth’s soil freezes over for the season.
Not long after, the snow begins to fall and frost begins to set. 
It is terribly beautiful from the castle. You can see the forest spread out far and wide, the treetops painted white and the snow falling easily. The stone of the castle keeps you warm from the elements, able to enjoy the beauty from a perch you weren’t always able to use.
You can almost remember the feel of trudging through thick snow like that, nothing but boots and cloth. Like a true adventurer. 
You feel a bit nostalgic.
‘What am I missing…?’ you wonder.
One day, he catches you staring out the castle windows at the snowy grounds below.
“Don’t fret,” he assures, interpreting your expression to be woe. “Spring will return soon enough. It may be safer to travel, then.”
When you don’t respond right away, he comes nearer and looks out the window with you.
“You’ve made your way through the library, I would assume. Nothing left to peer over?”
You think for a moment, your thoughts taking a while to gather as you take in the snow.
“Are you reading something at the moment, Alucard?”
“I am.”
‘I am lonely,’ you realize.
Yet, your host is right here. Perhaps he could help solve this dilemma?
“Can I read with you?” you ask, your voice softer than intended.
Alucard pauses a moment, clearly surprised. “With me...?”
“Yes,” you say. “With you.”
“I…” he looks at you for a long moment before nodding slightly. “Where would you prefer—”
“The parlor,” you decide. “In front of the fireplace.”
You head to the parlor together, quiet through the halls. Soon enough, you enter one of the many throughout the castle. You often wonder why this one is favored for Alucard, though you’ve never drawn it upon yourself to ask why.
You find you quite like it yourself. The colors are warm, the books rise high against their glassed cases, the fireplace is grand and warm, and the rugs and throws are divine. The settee is of a more soft material than the other leathered furniture in the castle.
It is softer, here. 
You sit easily in front of the fireplace, on the fur rug before it. It is clean and cozy for a floor, a far cry from the floors you’ve both sat and slept on in the past during your travels when an inn was out of the question. The fire crackles loudly as you settle, thinking back on the days before you were housed, your vagabond adventures.
You sigh contentedly and watch the fire, your dress swaddling around you as you settle. You don’t even notice your host until he is beside you, holding out your current book.
‘So he still tracks me,’ you think amusedly. “Surely my reading habits cannot interest you this much?” you jest.
Alucard ignores your teasing before taking his own and seating himself in the chair next to the rug. It faces the fire, the glow warming you both.
You watch as he takes off his jacket and vest, hanging them aside and relaxing in one of the simpler white blouses he sometimes dons. He palms open his book and begins taking in the story before him.
You note how rigid he is. 
‘Is he nervous?’ you wonder suddenly. As far-reaching as it is for someone like him, you feel as though he is. Maybe all this time, he wasn’t disgusted, but instead unsure of what to do with himself.
‘Hopeless man.’
“Relax,” you insist, tugging at his nearest leg beside you. He pauses in the chair at your touch, but you do not relent. You smooth a comforting hand down his calf casually before pulling away easily. “There’s no reason to trouble yourself with whatever is rattling around in that head of yours. Let the fire warm you. Relax.” 
You relax on the rug, one hand on the floor and the other flipping through your book as you read.
“Are you quite comfortable?” he asks suddenly.
You look up, watching Alucard watch you. You nod, smiling before looking back to your book.
It is a warmer feeling now than it was by the window, and though the fire helped, it was not the cause.
You find yourself toeing your shoes off and curling into the carpet, watching him watch you.
'Enough of this.'
You go over to him and his chair before seating yourself on his lap and curling up on him in the chair, book in hand. You feel his body turn like stone underneath you, but you choose to relax further, opening the book as you lay your head on his chest, curls tumbling down his front.
It is quiet for a long time, and you sigh comfortably before sinking back into your story and relaxing on your host. He unfolds inch by inch before finally unclenching himself all the way through, loose and easy.
He does not ask that you stop. He does not say a word. You hardly think he's breathing at this point.
You smile. 'Now was that so hard...?'
Alucard's hand suddenly reaches over to pluck the book out of your grasp before putting it aside; he then touches the underside of your jaw.
"What are you doing?" he murmurs at you. It's not a question, not really.
"Whatever I want," you reply easily, meeting his gaze. "I know that's probably fascinating for someone as straight-edge as y—"
His lips are against yours before you can even finish the sentence. His hands tangle in your hair, fingers unable to run through and clenching at your scalp instead, directing you. He leans you back as he leans forward, eager to seemingly sink into the very being of you.
He's never been this forceful with you before. It has never felt so good.
Your eyes draw closed against it, a whimper escaping you before you kiss back eagerly. You don't know who started with tongue but you're both pursuing it now, chasing one another down as the kiss continues into something more heating.
'He doesn't taste like blood,' you think. 'He tastes like wine.'
You hear the fireplace crackling at your side, the fever of the flames against your skin, the rustling noise of your dress against his clothes, and more than anything...you feel the hot, iron handprint of his touch at your waist, at your neck, at your shoulders, on and on the touching continues.
He pulls back, rasping words escaping him.
"You don't know what you're asking for," he begins, stroking at your waist as he eyes your mouth, fighting himself not to kiss you again. The words are bitten out, barely restrained.
"I'm not asking anything," you say, repositioning yourself in the chair to straddle him. "But if you show me...? Then maybe I'll ask nicely. Just for you."
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AN: Do not under any circumstances copy, repost, or edit any of my work. If you see someone do so, please let me know.
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kermit-coded · 1 month
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damn i forgot how hard this scene goes. "lies, in your house of god?" is such a banger line.
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beevean · 2 months
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Dracula and Rosaly accepting Hector in a world that doesn't, and protecting him from commoners who mistrust him. However, Dracula cared about what Hector was - a powerful cursed human who could learn the most forbidden of dark arts, while Rosaly cared about who Hector was - a mysterious yet kind and helpful person.
Dracula denying Hector's humanity to allow him to live among demons, and convincing him he is one. Rosaly appreciating Hector's humanity, but ignoring his dark past.
Dracula filling Hector's head with notions about how God hates his own creations and won't be there to help him (he will :) ) and how power is the one thing that matters. Rosaly being a full, devoted Christian that believes in the strength of mankind so much that she manages to convince Hector as well.
Dracula caring so much about Hector's life that he organized an expedition to find him again, although only not to waste his powers, and ready to punish him in case he had betrayed him. Rosaly caring so much about Hector's life that she searched for him when he ran away from home and was nearly dying after fighting Isaac, because she was seriously concerned for his wellbeing.
He, the mighty Dark Lord, stayed in the castle and sent Isaac. She, a normal young woman, ventured into the forest all by herself.
They both indirectly died because they wanted Hector with them this much.
Rosaly's sole presence dispelling Dracula's curse, his nefarious influence from beyond the grave. Hector musing that he was going to die together with Dracula, until Rosaly saved his life.
Hector being the best General on Dracula's side. Hector being a common househusband to Rosaly. Both of them cherish him, but in such different ways.
Hector being used as a tool and ordered around by Dracula no matter what he thought. Hector being free to be whoever he wants to with Rosaly.
Hector giving his life for them without hesitation. Hector serving Dracula out of gratitude for being allowed to live. Hector saying that he would give his life for Rosaly "without forgiveness or atonement", and technically doing so when he goes on a revenge quest for her.
Hector being ready to let himself die after betraying Dracula, even musing the irony of dying together. Hector being ready to let himself die after avenging Rosaly, because he felt he had no reason to live anymore.
Hector attempting to pay Rosaly with what little he has, his belt, because he can't conceive someone being kind to him without reason - Dracula requested his services in exchange for being allowed to live, after all.
Hector clutching Rosaly's ribbon as he thinks one last time about Dracula.
Hector dressing with his old Devil Forgemaster uniform in the game, the one given to him by Dracula and complete with the crest, but completing it wrapping Rosaly's ribbon to his waist.
Hector rejecting the notion that his old Master was right about humans and judging them, because Rosaly showed him what humanity is actually made of.
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memoriesofafallen · 4 months
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I'm In Castlevania Hell 😏
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shelbybunny · 1 month
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i just saw a gif of netflix richter belmont and ive never seen him in motion before. its disturbing. he looks like a koi fish
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petrigrofcannibalism · 7 months
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hey maybe we shouldn't be using screencaps from the scene where Alucard was literally assaulted for your x reader fics but thats just my opinion 👍
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chibishortdeath · 5 months
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Yippie! So silly (kinda sad) idea I had I while ago that I need to draw about again aaaa— Anyway, there were a lot details that had me thinking about stuff in certain games. Harmony of Despair has the “Helmont/Shiimon/Simon Wraith” enemies that have this ominous description of “some say this is what happened to Simon Belmont in the end”, and it’s just never mentioned again. Like damn ok that’s uh some interesting information wow uh— Also that coupled with the hanging skeletons being a reference to Simon in CV4 and also being in the hanged man position, the family heirlooms in the ghostly Dracula’s castle in Harmony of Dissonance, and the quest for Anna in Order of Ecclesia about helping her cat protect her from dark spirits that’s ended with a really sudden line about her having nightmares about a man with a whip fighting something scary, my guy is haunting the narrative and doesn’t sound like he’s doing so great 💀.
So the Ghost Simon concept was born and uh here he is I guess lol. Part of it also came from the idea that we’ve already seen a ghost companion in the series in Wind (if you know you know), but what if there was one you had to help that was a little more uh what’s the word… tormented? Vengeful? Upset in general? Yeah. He’s kinda just a mix of a bunch of different ghost lore, not one in particular. Fun fact: Dulahans sometimes use their own spines as a whip :3. And in a lot of folklore Strigoi often prey on their own family members, especially the younger girls in the family. But yeah, he’s just kind of a nuisance, not really like ‘evil’ or anything. Breaks things sometimes, generally pesters people, only occasionally a minor threat. Maybe leaves bloody footprints sometimes, turns paintings crooked, writes omens on walls, ya know, average ghost activities. I like to think that the boss rush with him in HoD is what he’s been doing for a while. Maybe Juste unknowingly takes him home with some of the furniture, probably the grandfather clock lol. Idk it’s just a fun what if idea for fun tho mostly d(^^ ).
#castlevania#castlevania games#simon belmont#art post#my art#does this count as an AU?#I don’t really think it does???#it’s just some ‘what if he spooky’ funny idea idk#does this count as cringe or whatever (joke I know it’s cringe I’m just happy with it)#some of these details I would love to see more on tho like#Konami what do you mean Simon’s name can be a pun in Japanese on the word for death#what do you mean if you spell it a little differently it means Gates of Death Konami I need answers—#or don’t explain anything and give more random ominous vague information#i would appreciate it#a lot actually#please say more random spooky things about this guy#what little to no content does to a mf#Simon’s Quest is a great game (I am going insane)#should I even tag all the games I mentioned in this or is putting this on the main tags enough of a risk as it is—#anyway I wanna make more random speculation collages I’m just on and off burnt out constantly help#this is primarily for silly situations like idk Maxim asking if anyone else has seen that dead guy in the mirror they brought home lol#thinkin about the idea of a game set in the 50s about a horror movie being made about the legends of Simon#and he’s there (in spirit lol) being a complete nuisance on set#the lead actor is just trying to work and here’s some ghostly voice say ‘I would not have my hair that short ewwwww’#aaaaa I should also draw that idea damn#maybe Halloween being a thing will get me to do it (TwT )#TUMBLR JUST KICKED ME OUT OF THE APP I THOUGHT I WAS GONNA LOSE THIS WHOLE POST THAT WAS SCARY—
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tokensonsaturn · 5 months
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Euclid by sleep token is definitely trephacard but Alucard's pov of Trevor and Sypha final days type of way
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wygolvillage · 2 years
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“go to hell” is basic, “i hope your favorite video game gets adapted by netflix” is smart, its possible, its terrifying
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sleepy-bear-tm · 5 months
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"He's sad... but it's not like your sadness."
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princeyarthur · 1 year
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it was (based on real events)
when I was a kid I got Firewing from the library without ever having read the first two books in the trilogy and it left an indelible impression on my psyche, that I think Soma Cruz should also get to experience,
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